- guide to the tome: Magus Scriptorius
Sunday, January 20, 2008
Siramere
...The Siramese Empire was founded 1562 years ago, but the city of Siramere itself is much older, tracing its origins back to before the New Bronze age that followed the Great Rebellion and the end of the Age of Magic, almost 3000 years ago. It grew from a small tribal villiage built on the site of a much older ruin. The later crowning here of the first King of Tribes gave the settlement its name along with the great lake that it lies on (Siramere means: Royal Lake or Lake of Kings). The city continued to grow in size and power, becoming a Republic 812 years after the Great Rebellion. The Republican city-state lasted 253 years before being overrun by the iron weilding armies of the Mountian King sweeping all before them from the east. The monarchy and supporting nobles ruled for a further 300 years before internal power struggles saw the formation of the Empire under the First Emperor Pristine...
Sunday, January 13, 2008
Age of Magic
The boy opened his eyes as a shadow flew across him, blocking out the sun. Enormous leathery wings beat against the air as the dragon climbed and turned. He stared in amazement as the huge creature flew overhead. Never had he seen one so near. They had always been faint specks, far in the distance. Another flew overhead, and another. Five in total, arrayed in formation as they flew across the slopes and headed out across plains. The red banner cracked and whipped in the wind, trailing behind the lead rider, so tiny upon the back of the great beast. It let out a great screech and the boy covered his ears against the terrible noise, scrambling belatedly for cover among the rocks.
By the time his head rose from his hiding place, the dragons and their riders were far past him, ignoring him. He watched as they wheeled out across the plains and dived, one at a time, swooping low and climbing again into formation. He watched as they breathed forth flame and fire, waves of heat blowing across the fields, burning and blackening crops. It took a moment to register what was happening. His village was being attacked! It did not make any sense. The village was small, insignificant. What possible reason could there be to attack it?
Slowly his thoughts formed as he watched from his rocky perch, the dragons swooping before him. The Overlord’s banners were blue and silver. The red and gold these dragons bore were not his colours. These were dragons from a neighbouring territory; raiding, plundering and destroying for their masters.
With another screech, they climbed and wheeled away, moving further out across the plains. The boy watched as they flew away, waiting until they were dark specks before he ventured down from the mountain slopes. The smoke stung his eyes as he neared the edge of the village, lingering hot and acrid in the air. People ran back and forth from the fields, carrying buckets, tools and small children, crying in the heat and confusion. A few men carried weapons, swords and axes as they ran. Some shouted orders, gesturing urgently while others called out the names of family and friends.
The boy picked his way through the chaos towards his home. The village itself appeared mostly untouched by the flames, although fires still raged in the surrounding fields and could easily spread if not soon brought under control.
“Jaden!”
The boy turned at the sound of his name as his brother appeared behind him. He smiled, pleased to see his elder brother unhurt, and then gasped as his brother grabbed him roughly by the arm.
“Where have you been?” his brother demanded. “Father is going to skin you alive for running off again. Don’t you know how dangerous it is at the moment?”
The boy, Jaden looked guilty, mumbling an apology.
“Come on, they were worried sick. Janna thought you had been fried to a crisp.”
“I saw them!” Jaden suddenly exclaimed. “Real close. I could almost touch them. They flew right over me!”
His brother looked down disapprovingly and Jaden looked down in turn at his worn boots. His big toe was sticking out of a hole in his left boot. He wiggled it.
“Do not tell Father or Janna that,” his brother admonished. “You are like to cause their death from worry as it is.”
“Was anybody hurt?” Jaden asked. “I saw them breathing fire onto the fields. I hid in the rocks.”
“Good, you did that right at least. Yes, people were hurt. A few died in the fields when the dragons came. And the fires are fierce, many others have burns.”
“Why did they attack us, Jacen?”
“I do not know,” his brother admitted, shaking his head sadly. They continued in silence, keeping close to the buildings as others hurried back and forth around them.
“There you are!” his father’s voice called out to them from the crowd. “Thank you, Jacen. Jaden, we were worried sick. Where did you run off to?”
“I was up the trail. I saw the dragons come. I hid,” Jaden said, keeping to facts that would not get him in too much trouble.
“It is not safe to do that any more, Jaden,” his father told him. “We talked about this. You cannot leave the village on your own.”
“Sorry, father,” Jaden replied miserably. His father seemed about to continue when he stopped, looking over Jaden’s shoulder, his eyes growing wide.
“By the God’s…” he whispered.
Jaden and Jacen turned and they both stared.
It hung in the air, impossibly huge, like a mountain turned on its head. Crafted walls and towers gleamed, rising from the rocky mass. Banners and pennants flew from their spires, flapping redly in the rising wind. Silently, it came, drifting nearer, a city of earth and air.
It had cleared the mountains, descending down the slopes to the plains. As he watched, Jaden saw several small dots move away, descending quickly, dwarfed by the city’s sheer impossible size.
All around him people stood, staring in awe and amazement. Someone screamed, people started to run. His father grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in the direction of the hills.
“Quickly!” his father called. “Make for the hills!”
But it was too late. Soldiers were streaming into the village from all sides, cutting off their escape, cutting down any who resisted. They were herded together.
His father’s grip was torn from his arm and he stumbled, crying out.
“Jaden! Run! Hide!” his father called, in the grip of a soldier. Jaden ran. He could not see his brother. He ran and dodged, slipped under reaching hands, past blocking legs. More soldiers appeared, blocking the route to the hills, driving him back. Back to his home he ran, the sounds of pursuit behind him. Jaden dived and slid, wriggling on his belly, crawling through a gap in the stonework and under the floorboards. A man cursed, his face appearing in the opening then vanishing again. Another man laughed, the sound rich and good humoured. Jaden lay still, listening, hoping they would leave. Where was his brother? Where had they taken his father?
The heat was oppressive under the house, the dust tickling his nose and throat. He tried to blow it clear and scratched at his nose with a grubby hand. The heat was getting worse, the crackle of flames suddenly loud above him. The soldiers had set fire to the house. He looked around and wriggled closer to another opening. Jaden squirmed free and tensed to run.
A rough hand clamped down on his shoulder, hauling him to his feet. Jaden found himself spun around, a hand gripping him under the chin, turning his head left and right as the man studied him.
“You’ll do,” the man declared, apparently satisfied, pushing him towards another soldier. He stumbled before being firmly seized and dragged back over to the others.
The city hovered over the village, blocking out the sun.
By the time his head rose from his hiding place, the dragons and their riders were far past him, ignoring him. He watched as they wheeled out across the plains and dived, one at a time, swooping low and climbing again into formation. He watched as they breathed forth flame and fire, waves of heat blowing across the fields, burning and blackening crops. It took a moment to register what was happening. His village was being attacked! It did not make any sense. The village was small, insignificant. What possible reason could there be to attack it?
Slowly his thoughts formed as he watched from his rocky perch, the dragons swooping before him. The Overlord’s banners were blue and silver. The red and gold these dragons bore were not his colours. These were dragons from a neighbouring territory; raiding, plundering and destroying for their masters.
With another screech, they climbed and wheeled away, moving further out across the plains. The boy watched as they flew away, waiting until they were dark specks before he ventured down from the mountain slopes. The smoke stung his eyes as he neared the edge of the village, lingering hot and acrid in the air. People ran back and forth from the fields, carrying buckets, tools and small children, crying in the heat and confusion. A few men carried weapons, swords and axes as they ran. Some shouted orders, gesturing urgently while others called out the names of family and friends.
The boy picked his way through the chaos towards his home. The village itself appeared mostly untouched by the flames, although fires still raged in the surrounding fields and could easily spread if not soon brought under control.
“Jaden!”
The boy turned at the sound of his name as his brother appeared behind him. He smiled, pleased to see his elder brother unhurt, and then gasped as his brother grabbed him roughly by the arm.
“Where have you been?” his brother demanded. “Father is going to skin you alive for running off again. Don’t you know how dangerous it is at the moment?”
The boy, Jaden looked guilty, mumbling an apology.
“Come on, they were worried sick. Janna thought you had been fried to a crisp.”
“I saw them!” Jaden suddenly exclaimed. “Real close. I could almost touch them. They flew right over me!”
His brother looked down disapprovingly and Jaden looked down in turn at his worn boots. His big toe was sticking out of a hole in his left boot. He wiggled it.
“Do not tell Father or Janna that,” his brother admonished. “You are like to cause their death from worry as it is.”
“Was anybody hurt?” Jaden asked. “I saw them breathing fire onto the fields. I hid in the rocks.”
“Good, you did that right at least. Yes, people were hurt. A few died in the fields when the dragons came. And the fires are fierce, many others have burns.”
“Why did they attack us, Jacen?”
“I do not know,” his brother admitted, shaking his head sadly. They continued in silence, keeping close to the buildings as others hurried back and forth around them.
“There you are!” his father’s voice called out to them from the crowd. “Thank you, Jacen. Jaden, we were worried sick. Where did you run off to?”
“I was up the trail. I saw the dragons come. I hid,” Jaden said, keeping to facts that would not get him in too much trouble.
“It is not safe to do that any more, Jaden,” his father told him. “We talked about this. You cannot leave the village on your own.”
“Sorry, father,” Jaden replied miserably. His father seemed about to continue when he stopped, looking over Jaden’s shoulder, his eyes growing wide.
“By the God’s…” he whispered.
Jaden and Jacen turned and they both stared.
It hung in the air, impossibly huge, like a mountain turned on its head. Crafted walls and towers gleamed, rising from the rocky mass. Banners and pennants flew from their spires, flapping redly in the rising wind. Silently, it came, drifting nearer, a city of earth and air.
It had cleared the mountains, descending down the slopes to the plains. As he watched, Jaden saw several small dots move away, descending quickly, dwarfed by the city’s sheer impossible size.
All around him people stood, staring in awe and amazement. Someone screamed, people started to run. His father grabbed him by the arm and pulled him in the direction of the hills.
“Quickly!” his father called. “Make for the hills!”
But it was too late. Soldiers were streaming into the village from all sides, cutting off their escape, cutting down any who resisted. They were herded together.
His father’s grip was torn from his arm and he stumbled, crying out.
“Jaden! Run! Hide!” his father called, in the grip of a soldier. Jaden ran. He could not see his brother. He ran and dodged, slipped under reaching hands, past blocking legs. More soldiers appeared, blocking the route to the hills, driving him back. Back to his home he ran, the sounds of pursuit behind him. Jaden dived and slid, wriggling on his belly, crawling through a gap in the stonework and under the floorboards. A man cursed, his face appearing in the opening then vanishing again. Another man laughed, the sound rich and good humoured. Jaden lay still, listening, hoping they would leave. Where was his brother? Where had they taken his father?
The heat was oppressive under the house, the dust tickling his nose and throat. He tried to blow it clear and scratched at his nose with a grubby hand. The heat was getting worse, the crackle of flames suddenly loud above him. The soldiers had set fire to the house. He looked around and wriggled closer to another opening. Jaden squirmed free and tensed to run.
A rough hand clamped down on his shoulder, hauling him to his feet. Jaden found himself spun around, a hand gripping him under the chin, turning his head left and right as the man studied him.
“You’ll do,” the man declared, apparently satisfied, pushing him towards another soldier. He stumbled before being firmly seized and dragged back over to the others.
The city hovered over the village, blocking out the sun.
- Excerpt from Book One of the Age of Magic
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
History of the Brotherhood
…The Brotherhood of Sanctuary Isle traces it roots back to the Age of Magic over 3000 years ago. The Brotherhood was formed after the discovery of the first demons, to counter their increasing influence as they succeeded in gaining control over several of the ruling Wizard Cabals of the era. Instrumental in the downfall of the ruling Wizard Cabals, they settled on the newly formed Sanctuary Isle after the Great Rebellion and established their fortress monastery over the isle’s ruins. From this base the Brotherhood has continued to hunt for any surviving demons to this day…
…Widely regarded as the finest warriors in the world, the Brotherhood is sworn to neutrality in political matters. Any request to involve themselves in any conflict has always been refused even under extreme pressure. The siege of Sanctuary, in the Siramese calendar year 202, by the Emperor Conquestine remains the only attempt to subdue the fortress by force. The signing of the treaty following the complete failure of this venture, has ensured the Isle's independence from Imperial rule in the years since…
…The warrior monks are dispatched to respond to reports from across the realms. In the last few centuries, the reports have been few, but the Brotherhood maintains its vigilance and continues to train its members well…
…Widely regarded as the finest warriors in the world, the Brotherhood is sworn to neutrality in political matters. Any request to involve themselves in any conflict has always been refused even under extreme pressure. The siege of Sanctuary, in the Siramese calendar year 202, by the Emperor Conquestine remains the only attempt to subdue the fortress by force. The signing of the treaty following the complete failure of this venture, has ensured the Isle's independence from Imperial rule in the years since…
…The warrior monks are dispatched to respond to reports from across the realms. In the last few centuries, the reports have been few, but the Brotherhood maintains its vigilance and continues to train its members well…
- guide to the tome: Magus Scriptorius
First Contact
The rest of the day proved uneventful, despite the warnings, as did the following day. The next afternoon however, the monks came upon another patrol. Their horses caught the scent before the scene came into view, shying and snorting their concerns to the four riders. Terrance drew a long curve-bladed sword as they came over the rise.
The patrol had been made up of six men. Their bodies and that of their mounts were now strewn over the road and to either side. Two creatures sat feasting on the corpses. The monks own mounts became more skittish as one of the creatures looked up and snarled. Terrance exchanged a quick look with Gregor and dismounted, handing his reins to Duncan. Gregor did the same, drawing his own blade.
“Take the horses back a short way, Brother Duncan. I don’t think we can rely on them in this battle. William struggled to calm his own horse before dismounting and handing over his reins. Duncan did not object, just nodded and turned the horses back down the road without a word. William drew his blade as the closest creature moved away from its feasting and studied them. It snarled again and the second creature pulled its head out from the ribcage of the horse it was devouring. It also snarled in their direction and started circling to their right.
The three monks stood in the road swords drawn.
“Any ideas, Brothers?” William asked.
“Some breed of lesser demon,” Gregor ventured. Terrence nodded.
“It would appear so,” he agreed. “This is what we have trained for, Brothers.” They moved apart, giving themselves more space to manoeuvre. Terrance eyed the closest demon as it studied them in turn.
“They have a long reach,” he observed. “They look fast, too.” He smiled grimly as he saw a gash on the creature’s leg. “But they bleed.”
“The texts have always taught that lesser demons in physical form can be killed like any natural creature,” Gregor supplied.
“But not necessarily as easily,” William pointed out. Gregor smiled grimly.
“Caution in this encounter would certainly be advised,” Gregor agreed.
The closest creature charged without warning. Terrance was ready and moved to intercept, his long sword held before him. It slashed at him with a long clawed arm, not slowing its charge. Terrance dodged aside, curved blade flashing out catching the demon on the arm as it passed. It halted, snarling, then pounced, claws slashing. Terrance dodged again, backing away.
“Watch the other one, William.”
“Way ahead of you there, Brother,” William replied as the other demon snarled and charged at him. His arm flicked out and a pointed disc sprouted from the creature’s right eye. Its charge faltered, but did not stop, closing the distance far too quickly for William’s liking. He dodged back and to his right as it raked the air with its talons. He backed up further, waving his blade in front of him, keeping the demon’s attention on him. The creature obliged by crouching and lashing out low, trying to slash his legs out from under him. William danced out of range, sword weaving the air in front of him.
Gregor hit it from behind. Moving in from the demon’s right, the blow took off the creature’s arm just below the shoulder. It let out a high scream and swung round, blood spraying from the stump of its right arm as the left swept through the air, clawing the air where Gregor had just been standing. He leapt back, barely missing flailing talons as it rent the air again and again. Gregor backed off. The creature snarled and followed, then stumbled as William opened up a wide gash across its back. Screeching, it whirled around, left arm flashing out and catching William’s blade as he backed up. The blade snapped and went spinning out of his hand. He hastily backed up further, left arm flicking out again. Another spiked disc thudded into the creature, catching it in the throat and another in the chest. It recovered quickly and tensed to pounce.
Gregor’s two-handed blow took its head from its shoulders. He turned to see how Terrance was faring as William drew his second shorter blade watching the demon’s body for any sign of movement.
Terrance was backing up again, spinning away, his blade leaving another gash across the side of the demon as it charged past. It turned faster this time, anticipating the move, claws flashing out, tearing a gash in Terrance’s robe as he moved fluidly out of reach of the sudden attack. His own blade struck in return, severing the offending, clawed hand at the wrist. They both backed off, eying each other warily. Gregor moved up behind Terrance, studying the demon. It snarled back, then turned and ran for the nearest trees. It moved quickly on all fours, not noticeably hampered by its missing hand.
Terrance raised his eyebrows as he watched it go.
“I did not expect it to do that,” he commented.
“These things are definitely smart,” Gregor observed. “Though not too smart,” he amended, indicating the second creature. The corner of Terrance’s mouth flicked upwards, his version of a grin.
“Good.”
They dissected the demon where it fell, learning what they could before they moved on.
The patrol had been made up of six men. Their bodies and that of their mounts were now strewn over the road and to either side. Two creatures sat feasting on the corpses. The monks own mounts became more skittish as one of the creatures looked up and snarled. Terrance exchanged a quick look with Gregor and dismounted, handing his reins to Duncan. Gregor did the same, drawing his own blade.
“Take the horses back a short way, Brother Duncan. I don’t think we can rely on them in this battle. William struggled to calm his own horse before dismounting and handing over his reins. Duncan did not object, just nodded and turned the horses back down the road without a word. William drew his blade as the closest creature moved away from its feasting and studied them. It snarled again and the second creature pulled its head out from the ribcage of the horse it was devouring. It also snarled in their direction and started circling to their right.
The three monks stood in the road swords drawn.
“Any ideas, Brothers?” William asked.
“Some breed of lesser demon,” Gregor ventured. Terrence nodded.
“It would appear so,” he agreed. “This is what we have trained for, Brothers.” They moved apart, giving themselves more space to manoeuvre. Terrance eyed the closest demon as it studied them in turn.
“They have a long reach,” he observed. “They look fast, too.” He smiled grimly as he saw a gash on the creature’s leg. “But they bleed.”
“The texts have always taught that lesser demons in physical form can be killed like any natural creature,” Gregor supplied.
“But not necessarily as easily,” William pointed out. Gregor smiled grimly.
“Caution in this encounter would certainly be advised,” Gregor agreed.
The closest creature charged without warning. Terrance was ready and moved to intercept, his long sword held before him. It slashed at him with a long clawed arm, not slowing its charge. Terrance dodged aside, curved blade flashing out catching the demon on the arm as it passed. It halted, snarling, then pounced, claws slashing. Terrance dodged again, backing away.
“Watch the other one, William.”
“Way ahead of you there, Brother,” William replied as the other demon snarled and charged at him. His arm flicked out and a pointed disc sprouted from the creature’s right eye. Its charge faltered, but did not stop, closing the distance far too quickly for William’s liking. He dodged back and to his right as it raked the air with its talons. He backed up further, waving his blade in front of him, keeping the demon’s attention on him. The creature obliged by crouching and lashing out low, trying to slash his legs out from under him. William danced out of range, sword weaving the air in front of him.
Gregor hit it from behind. Moving in from the demon’s right, the blow took off the creature’s arm just below the shoulder. It let out a high scream and swung round, blood spraying from the stump of its right arm as the left swept through the air, clawing the air where Gregor had just been standing. He leapt back, barely missing flailing talons as it rent the air again and again. Gregor backed off. The creature snarled and followed, then stumbled as William opened up a wide gash across its back. Screeching, it whirled around, left arm flashing out and catching William’s blade as he backed up. The blade snapped and went spinning out of his hand. He hastily backed up further, left arm flicking out again. Another spiked disc thudded into the creature, catching it in the throat and another in the chest. It recovered quickly and tensed to pounce.
Gregor’s two-handed blow took its head from its shoulders. He turned to see how Terrance was faring as William drew his second shorter blade watching the demon’s body for any sign of movement.
Terrance was backing up again, spinning away, his blade leaving another gash across the side of the demon as it charged past. It turned faster this time, anticipating the move, claws flashing out, tearing a gash in Terrance’s robe as he moved fluidly out of reach of the sudden attack. His own blade struck in return, severing the offending, clawed hand at the wrist. They both backed off, eying each other warily. Gregor moved up behind Terrance, studying the demon. It snarled back, then turned and ran for the nearest trees. It moved quickly on all fours, not noticeably hampered by its missing hand.
Terrance raised his eyebrows as he watched it go.
“I did not expect it to do that,” he commented.
“These things are definitely smart,” Gregor observed. “Though not too smart,” he amended, indicating the second creature. The corner of Terrance’s mouth flicked upwards, his version of a grin.
“Good.”
They dissected the demon where it fell, learning what they could before they moved on.
-Excerpt from Book One of the Ascension Wars
Monday, December 17, 2007
On the Road
They were making good time. They rode northwards now on the main south road, having left Sanjipur a little over a week ago. So far their trip had been uneventful and Gregor hoped it would stay that way, for they still had a week of travel ahead of them to the north and east.
A patrol appeared on the road ahead of them, coloured pennants fluttering from lances as they rode towards the group of monks. They had seen several patrols since the start of their journey, though less frequently as they travelled further north. The patrol reined in as they came within hailing distance.
“Ho there!” greeted the patrol leader. “Good monks, have you had any trouble on the road?”
“No, Captain, we have not,” Gregor answered. “Is there any reason to fear otherwise?”
“I fear there is. Many reports have been received of strange creatures in the area. No one knows where they come from or where they will strike next.”
“Creatures, you say? What manner of creature?”
“By all reports, they are not natural. About man sized, it is said, moving quickly on all fours and standing on two to attack. Several farms have been attacked and travellers waylaid.”
The monks exchanged concerned looks. “Thank you, Captain. Your warning is well heeded.”
“We will travel with you. The next town is still some hours off.”
Gregor smiled. “Thank you for the offer, but that will not be necessary. We passed a caravan a short way back that will be far more in need of protection than us. Do not fear for our safety, Captain.” The patrol leader studied them for a moment, then nodded.
“So be it. Safe journey to you.”
“And you.” The patrol moved off at their leaders signal and was soon out of sight down the road.
“What do you make of that?” William asked.
“Nothing good,” Gregor replied.
A patrol appeared on the road ahead of them, coloured pennants fluttering from lances as they rode towards the group of monks. They had seen several patrols since the start of their journey, though less frequently as they travelled further north. The patrol reined in as they came within hailing distance.
“Ho there!” greeted the patrol leader. “Good monks, have you had any trouble on the road?”
“No, Captain, we have not,” Gregor answered. “Is there any reason to fear otherwise?”
“I fear there is. Many reports have been received of strange creatures in the area. No one knows where they come from or where they will strike next.”
“Creatures, you say? What manner of creature?”
“By all reports, they are not natural. About man sized, it is said, moving quickly on all fours and standing on two to attack. Several farms have been attacked and travellers waylaid.”
The monks exchanged concerned looks. “Thank you, Captain. Your warning is well heeded.”
“We will travel with you. The next town is still some hours off.”
Gregor smiled. “Thank you for the offer, but that will not be necessary. We passed a caravan a short way back that will be far more in need of protection than us. Do not fear for our safety, Captain.” The patrol leader studied them for a moment, then nodded.
“So be it. Safe journey to you.”
“And you.” The patrol moved off at their leaders signal and was soon out of sight down the road.
“What do you make of that?” William asked.
“Nothing good,” Gregor replied.
-Excerpt from Book One of the Ascension Wars
Sunday, December 16, 2007
Flashback to Sanctuary Isle
The four rode east from the City. To the south, the Great Desert stretched out beyond the horizon. Gregor rode in silence for the remainder of the morning, recalling the events that had led to their journey and their departure from the monastery and isle that was their home.
“The Ascension is closer than we had feared Brother,” Nicolas had warned. He had been called away from that day’s training for an audience with the Elder. “Brother Robert and Brother Duncan have had a shared vision. The content was most disturbing.”
Gregor frowned. “Have the Conclave been made aware?”
“The Conclave have been notified of our fears. To ensure they take our warning seriously I have let them know we are sending a delegation to them in person. I had you in mind, Brother Gregor.”
“Me?” Gregor raised his eyebrows incredulously.
“You are among the most experienced Brothers here, Gregor. You have already made the journey to the capital on two occasions. No one else here can claim that.”
“I was no more than a boy the first time, Elder,” Gregor pointed out.
“Nonetheless, you are the best choice to lead the delegation.”
Gregor nodded acquiescence, then paused thoughtful. “Who else will make the journey? Brother Robert will not be able to travel at speed…”
“Brother Duncan will accompany you in place of Brother Robert. The other members of the group I leave up to you.”
“The fewer the better.” He paused again before continuing. “Brother Terrance should be included. He is worth many times our number in a conflict. And Brother William. He has made many trips to the mainland.”
Elder Nicolas nodded in agreement. “Good. Notify them immediately. You will be leaving on the morning tide.”
Gregor had left to notify the others of their impending journey and to organise supplies for the group. He retired early, hoping to gain a good night of rest.
The night, however, did not pass quietly. The fire started in an outlying building and spread quickly. Monks were roused from sleep by the tolling of the main bell and quickly set about containing the blaze before it spread out of control. Gregor ran towards the bucket line and caught sight of Terrance, standing off to one side. He turned, fingering the hilts of his twin swords as Gregor approached.
“Something is not right,” Terrance stated. Gregor slowed, facing the blaze.
“How did it start?”
“That is my point.” Terrance looked around at the monks battling the blaze then over at the main complex, secure behind the fortified inner walls. “It is a diversion,” Terrance concluded and broke into a run back towards the main buildings. Gregor followed, his mind racing.
“A diversion for what?” he called out. Terrance did not answer, but increased his pace. Gregor struggled to keep up. They came to a halt outside the main dormitory, Gregor panting slightly for breath. “The Elders?”
Without replying, Terrance was off again, running through the main doors and up the stairs. Gregor took a deep breath and followed.
They found the first body on the third floor. Terrance stooped over a small smear of blood on the floor as Gregor came up behind him. He rose and drew both his blades, advancing on the nearest doorway. The door swung open to reveal the body of a young monk, dead from a single thrust from behind.
“Arm yourself, Brother. It is as I feared. Assassins are loose this night.”
Gregor picked up the dead monk’s sword and tested it for balance. “We must get to the Elders.”
They hurried towards the Elder’s wing, Gregor checking every shadow on the way. The sound of fighting suddenly sounded up ahead. Two more bodies lay in the corridor as nearby a third monk fended off the attack of two dark clad men. The monk was wounded and hard pressed. As Terrance and Gregor rushed to his aid, he stumbled, leaving an opening. An assassin’s blade swept in slicing across the monk’s throat.
“Their fighting prowess is overrated it would seem,” the first assassin commented to his companion as the monk fell. He looked up as the two monks raced down the corridor towards them. Terrance was on him in an instant, closing the remaining gap with a furious burst of speed.
“Try me,” he challenged, his blades sweeping in. The assassin blocked the first blow but backed up hastily under the fury of the assault. The second assassin moved to engage but found his attack blocked and countered. He fell back, his torso sliced open twice before he could respond. The first assassin died a moment later, the killing blow a blur to the eyes. They both hit the floor as Gregor slowed to a stop two paces behind him. Quickly he checked the bodies of the fallen monks.
“They’re dead,” Gregor confirmed. Terrance nodded and moved further down the corridor, senses alert. “The enemy is moving faster than we feared, for their servants to be here now.”
They hurried on, anxious to reach the Elder’s chambers with no further delay. Several doors stood open and they found more bodies.
“Brother Robert,” Gregor murmured. The old seer lay abed, his throat cut in his sleep. Gregor forced himself to turn away and continue on. “What of the others?” he asked. Terrance appeared from a room on the other side of the corridor.
“Dead or empty so far,” he replied grimly. A shout and the ring of steel on steel spurred them into movement again. They burst into a room further along and found themselves immediately in battle. Five dark clad figures stood with short swords drawn, a sixth lay dead across the simple bed. Elder Nicolas was on his feet, garbed in his night robe, no weapon in his hand.
The closest assassin lunged at the old man as the others turned to face the two newcomers. Nicolas swayed aside from the blow and hands a blur, sent his attacker reeling backwards, his sword clattering to the floor. Terrance rushed at the others, engaging three with his twin blades. Gregor struck at the other, trying to get to Elder Nicolas’ side. The assassin was skilled, and parried Gregor’s first blow with ease. He soon backed up as the attack continued.
Glancing over at Terrance, Gregor saw he had downed one of his opponents and was holding back the other two, his blades a whirling blur. Gregor blocked as his own opponent lashed out, seeing his attention momentarily diverted. The assassin cried out in surprise as his legs were swept out from under him. Nicolas completed the sweep, circling to his right as the man hit the floor. He quickly recovered, flipping back to his feet, as Gregor’s blade swept in again unchecked. A second gash appeared on the man’s tunic as blade swept back and Gregor knocked him off his feet again.
Nicolas danced aside as his earlier attacker struck at him again, this time wielding a knife. He caught the man’s sleeve, pulling the knife hand harmlessly past and spun behind him, placing an open palm strike to his lower back, propelling the assassin across the room and into the wall with no apparent effort.
Gregor spun and struck the closest of Terrance’s opponents in the back of the neck, dropping him instantly. His second blade suddenly free, Terrance dispatched his remaining foe in a matter of moments. Elder Nicolas bowed to the two monks, thanking them for their timely arrival. Gregor and Terrance bowed in return then proceeded to make sure the assassins were dead.
“I do not think we need to question them,” Elder Nicolas confirmed. “It seems fairly certain who they were working for.”
“We know who our enemy is for certain,” Gregor replied, “but his minions remain a mystery to us.”
“True, Brother Gregor.” Nicolas nodded at the assassin by the wall. “Bind that one. We will discover what he knows.”
They had not learned much.
The assassin had killed himself at the first opportunity. Four Elders lay dead from the attack, including Brother Robert, the seer. The monastery got no more sleep that night. Gregor, Terrance, William and Duncan helped wherever they could, as the monks returned order to their violated sanctuary.
The atmosphere at the morning’s training had been subdued as the four monks left to catch the morning tide. Gregor found himself taking a last look back at the rows of monks drilling in the training yard. Their rows moved and swayed in perfect synchronisation as they punched and kicked the air before them. The monastery fortress loomed behind them, rising protectively out of the ancient ruins, its roots sinking deep into the vast network of chambers beneath them.
“The Ascension is closer than we had feared Brother,” Nicolas had warned. He had been called away from that day’s training for an audience with the Elder. “Brother Robert and Brother Duncan have had a shared vision. The content was most disturbing.”
Gregor frowned. “Have the Conclave been made aware?”
“The Conclave have been notified of our fears. To ensure they take our warning seriously I have let them know we are sending a delegation to them in person. I had you in mind, Brother Gregor.”
“Me?” Gregor raised his eyebrows incredulously.
“You are among the most experienced Brothers here, Gregor. You have already made the journey to the capital on two occasions. No one else here can claim that.”
“I was no more than a boy the first time, Elder,” Gregor pointed out.
“Nonetheless, you are the best choice to lead the delegation.”
Gregor nodded acquiescence, then paused thoughtful. “Who else will make the journey? Brother Robert will not be able to travel at speed…”
“Brother Duncan will accompany you in place of Brother Robert. The other members of the group I leave up to you.”
“The fewer the better.” He paused again before continuing. “Brother Terrance should be included. He is worth many times our number in a conflict. And Brother William. He has made many trips to the mainland.”
Elder Nicolas nodded in agreement. “Good. Notify them immediately. You will be leaving on the morning tide.”
Gregor had left to notify the others of their impending journey and to organise supplies for the group. He retired early, hoping to gain a good night of rest.
The night, however, did not pass quietly. The fire started in an outlying building and spread quickly. Monks were roused from sleep by the tolling of the main bell and quickly set about containing the blaze before it spread out of control. Gregor ran towards the bucket line and caught sight of Terrance, standing off to one side. He turned, fingering the hilts of his twin swords as Gregor approached.
“Something is not right,” Terrance stated. Gregor slowed, facing the blaze.
“How did it start?”
“That is my point.” Terrance looked around at the monks battling the blaze then over at the main complex, secure behind the fortified inner walls. “It is a diversion,” Terrance concluded and broke into a run back towards the main buildings. Gregor followed, his mind racing.
“A diversion for what?” he called out. Terrance did not answer, but increased his pace. Gregor struggled to keep up. They came to a halt outside the main dormitory, Gregor panting slightly for breath. “The Elders?”
Without replying, Terrance was off again, running through the main doors and up the stairs. Gregor took a deep breath and followed.
They found the first body on the third floor. Terrance stooped over a small smear of blood on the floor as Gregor came up behind him. He rose and drew both his blades, advancing on the nearest doorway. The door swung open to reveal the body of a young monk, dead from a single thrust from behind.
“Arm yourself, Brother. It is as I feared. Assassins are loose this night.”
Gregor picked up the dead monk’s sword and tested it for balance. “We must get to the Elders.”
They hurried towards the Elder’s wing, Gregor checking every shadow on the way. The sound of fighting suddenly sounded up ahead. Two more bodies lay in the corridor as nearby a third monk fended off the attack of two dark clad men. The monk was wounded and hard pressed. As Terrance and Gregor rushed to his aid, he stumbled, leaving an opening. An assassin’s blade swept in slicing across the monk’s throat.
“Their fighting prowess is overrated it would seem,” the first assassin commented to his companion as the monk fell. He looked up as the two monks raced down the corridor towards them. Terrance was on him in an instant, closing the remaining gap with a furious burst of speed.
“Try me,” he challenged, his blades sweeping in. The assassin blocked the first blow but backed up hastily under the fury of the assault. The second assassin moved to engage but found his attack blocked and countered. He fell back, his torso sliced open twice before he could respond. The first assassin died a moment later, the killing blow a blur to the eyes. They both hit the floor as Gregor slowed to a stop two paces behind him. Quickly he checked the bodies of the fallen monks.
“They’re dead,” Gregor confirmed. Terrance nodded and moved further down the corridor, senses alert. “The enemy is moving faster than we feared, for their servants to be here now.”
They hurried on, anxious to reach the Elder’s chambers with no further delay. Several doors stood open and they found more bodies.
“Brother Robert,” Gregor murmured. The old seer lay abed, his throat cut in his sleep. Gregor forced himself to turn away and continue on. “What of the others?” he asked. Terrance appeared from a room on the other side of the corridor.
“Dead or empty so far,” he replied grimly. A shout and the ring of steel on steel spurred them into movement again. They burst into a room further along and found themselves immediately in battle. Five dark clad figures stood with short swords drawn, a sixth lay dead across the simple bed. Elder Nicolas was on his feet, garbed in his night robe, no weapon in his hand.
The closest assassin lunged at the old man as the others turned to face the two newcomers. Nicolas swayed aside from the blow and hands a blur, sent his attacker reeling backwards, his sword clattering to the floor. Terrance rushed at the others, engaging three with his twin blades. Gregor struck at the other, trying to get to Elder Nicolas’ side. The assassin was skilled, and parried Gregor’s first blow with ease. He soon backed up as the attack continued.
Glancing over at Terrance, Gregor saw he had downed one of his opponents and was holding back the other two, his blades a whirling blur. Gregor blocked as his own opponent lashed out, seeing his attention momentarily diverted. The assassin cried out in surprise as his legs were swept out from under him. Nicolas completed the sweep, circling to his right as the man hit the floor. He quickly recovered, flipping back to his feet, as Gregor’s blade swept in again unchecked. A second gash appeared on the man’s tunic as blade swept back and Gregor knocked him off his feet again.
Nicolas danced aside as his earlier attacker struck at him again, this time wielding a knife. He caught the man’s sleeve, pulling the knife hand harmlessly past and spun behind him, placing an open palm strike to his lower back, propelling the assassin across the room and into the wall with no apparent effort.
Gregor spun and struck the closest of Terrance’s opponents in the back of the neck, dropping him instantly. His second blade suddenly free, Terrance dispatched his remaining foe in a matter of moments. Elder Nicolas bowed to the two monks, thanking them for their timely arrival. Gregor and Terrance bowed in return then proceeded to make sure the assassins were dead.
“I do not think we need to question them,” Elder Nicolas confirmed. “It seems fairly certain who they were working for.”
“We know who our enemy is for certain,” Gregor replied, “but his minions remain a mystery to us.”
“True, Brother Gregor.” Nicolas nodded at the assassin by the wall. “Bind that one. We will discover what he knows.”
They had not learned much.
The assassin had killed himself at the first opportunity. Four Elders lay dead from the attack, including Brother Robert, the seer. The monastery got no more sleep that night. Gregor, Terrance, William and Duncan helped wherever they could, as the monks returned order to their violated sanctuary.
The atmosphere at the morning’s training had been subdued as the four monks left to catch the morning tide. Gregor found himself taking a last look back at the rows of monks drilling in the training yard. Their rows moved and swayed in perfect synchronisation as they punched and kicked the air before them. The monastery fortress loomed behind them, rising protectively out of the ancient ruins, its roots sinking deep into the vast network of chambers beneath them.
-Excerpt from Book One of the Ascension Wars
Thursday, December 13, 2007
Welcome to Sanjipur
The four men stood on the dock, travel bags in hand, their long brown robes flapping gently in the breeze. The great southern city of Sanjipur stretched away before them, its majestic towers rising over the top of the warehouse district.
“So many people,” whispered Duncan, the youngest of the group. Gregor smiled.
“You will see a great many more before this journey is over, Brother Duncan.” He warily eyed the array of people around him. Sailors and stevedores loaded and unloaded the ships in port and busied themselves with tasks he could only guess at. A group of fishermen unloaded their morning’s haul from a boat nearby, the smell from the catch mixing with the odours of the city. Small groups of men stood in conversation, propped up against the grubby walls of warehouses. A few were paying more attention to new arrivals than the conversation of their companions. A young man dodged around a wagon full of barrels and made his way towards them. Terrance watched impassively and nudged Gregor as he approached.
“Greetings, sirs. My name is Mattion and I see you are strangers to our fair city.”
Gregor’s face remained impassive as he regarded the man. Mattion continued to smile through the silent response from the four men.
“I would be happy to guide you about, sirs,” he continued undaunted. “Will you be needing lodgings for the night? I know an excellent inn and very affordable too.”
“That will not be necessary,” Gregor answered. “We have no need of lodgings.”
“Where are you heading, sirs?” Mattion asked, taking Duncan by the arm and gesturing at the city before them. “The city is large and holds many dangers for the unwary. Let me guide you safely to your destination.”
“We thank you for your offer, Mattion, but we have no need of a guide either.”
“Very well, sirs,” Mattion responded, releasing Duncan and bowing slightly to the group. “I bid you all a safe journey.”
He turned and made to leave but jerked to a halt as a hand clamped down hard on his collar. He managed to half turn and found Terrance’s stern visage glaring back at him.
“You too, Mattion,” Gregor replied pleasantly. “Although you will find it a lot safer if you first return my companion’s money pouch.”
“Money pouch, sirs? I don’t…” he trailed off as Terrance tightened his already painful grip and Gregor slowly shook his head. Mattion opened and closed his mouth a few more times unable to take his eyes from Gregor’s piercing stare. Duncan looked slightly puzzled through this exchange, then realisation dawned.
“Hey!”
William stifled a chuckle, then discretely checked the location of his own pouch. Mattion sighed and removed Duncan’s pouch from the folds of his tunic and tossed it back to the young monk. Duncan caught it and re-fastened the pouch to his belt with a glare at the thief. Mattion at least had the decency to look guilty.
“Well, what shall we do with you, Mattion?” asked Gregor. “Hmmm? What is the usual punishment for thieves here?”
“They are let off with a warning?” he suggested.
“I thought they lost a limb or appendage of choice,” William offered.
“His choice or ours?” Duncan asked, perking up.
“Oh, our discretion, naturally.”
Duncan smiled. Mattion gave a short whimper as Terrance’s grip tightened even further. Gregor advanced on him, the unmistakable sound of a blade being drawn from its sheath sounding unnaturally loud over the background noise of the docks. Gregor smiled and returned the half drawn blade with a slap, clicking it back into place across his back.
“No. I think you can consider yourself warned.” He nodded once and Terrance released him. Mattion let out an involuntary cry of relief, raising a hand to rub the feeling back into his shoulder. “Now get out of my sight before I lose my uncharacteristic kind streak.”
Mattion nodded, backing away from the four men. He turned and ran.
“And you,” Gregor continued, turning to Duncan, “can consider this a learning experience. People are rarely what they say they are, and always have their own agenda.”
Duncan nodded. “I shall remember.”
“And always keep track of your money pouch,” William scolded, grinning. “For there are more than enough legitimate methods of losing its contents, as I am sure any local merchant will be happy to demonstrate to you.”
“Indeed,” Gregor agreed seriously. “And to prove that point we shall now go and see a man about a horse.”
“So many people,” whispered Duncan, the youngest of the group. Gregor smiled.
“You will see a great many more before this journey is over, Brother Duncan.” He warily eyed the array of people around him. Sailors and stevedores loaded and unloaded the ships in port and busied themselves with tasks he could only guess at. A group of fishermen unloaded their morning’s haul from a boat nearby, the smell from the catch mixing with the odours of the city. Small groups of men stood in conversation, propped up against the grubby walls of warehouses. A few were paying more attention to new arrivals than the conversation of their companions. A young man dodged around a wagon full of barrels and made his way towards them. Terrance watched impassively and nudged Gregor as he approached.
“Greetings, sirs. My name is Mattion and I see you are strangers to our fair city.”
Gregor’s face remained impassive as he regarded the man. Mattion continued to smile through the silent response from the four men.
“I would be happy to guide you about, sirs,” he continued undaunted. “Will you be needing lodgings for the night? I know an excellent inn and very affordable too.”
“That will not be necessary,” Gregor answered. “We have no need of lodgings.”
“Where are you heading, sirs?” Mattion asked, taking Duncan by the arm and gesturing at the city before them. “The city is large and holds many dangers for the unwary. Let me guide you safely to your destination.”
“We thank you for your offer, Mattion, but we have no need of a guide either.”
“Very well, sirs,” Mattion responded, releasing Duncan and bowing slightly to the group. “I bid you all a safe journey.”
He turned and made to leave but jerked to a halt as a hand clamped down hard on his collar. He managed to half turn and found Terrance’s stern visage glaring back at him.
“You too, Mattion,” Gregor replied pleasantly. “Although you will find it a lot safer if you first return my companion’s money pouch.”
“Money pouch, sirs? I don’t…” he trailed off as Terrance tightened his already painful grip and Gregor slowly shook his head. Mattion opened and closed his mouth a few more times unable to take his eyes from Gregor’s piercing stare. Duncan looked slightly puzzled through this exchange, then realisation dawned.
“Hey!”
William stifled a chuckle, then discretely checked the location of his own pouch. Mattion sighed and removed Duncan’s pouch from the folds of his tunic and tossed it back to the young monk. Duncan caught it and re-fastened the pouch to his belt with a glare at the thief. Mattion at least had the decency to look guilty.
“Well, what shall we do with you, Mattion?” asked Gregor. “Hmmm? What is the usual punishment for thieves here?”
“They are let off with a warning?” he suggested.
“I thought they lost a limb or appendage of choice,” William offered.
“His choice or ours?” Duncan asked, perking up.
“Oh, our discretion, naturally.”
Duncan smiled. Mattion gave a short whimper as Terrance’s grip tightened even further. Gregor advanced on him, the unmistakable sound of a blade being drawn from its sheath sounding unnaturally loud over the background noise of the docks. Gregor smiled and returned the half drawn blade with a slap, clicking it back into place across his back.
“No. I think you can consider yourself warned.” He nodded once and Terrance released him. Mattion let out an involuntary cry of relief, raising a hand to rub the feeling back into his shoulder. “Now get out of my sight before I lose my uncharacteristic kind streak.”
Mattion nodded, backing away from the four men. He turned and ran.
“And you,” Gregor continued, turning to Duncan, “can consider this a learning experience. People are rarely what they say they are, and always have their own agenda.”
Duncan nodded. “I shall remember.”
“And always keep track of your money pouch,” William scolded, grinning. “For there are more than enough legitimate methods of losing its contents, as I am sure any local merchant will be happy to demonstrate to you.”
“Indeed,” Gregor agreed seriously. “And to prove that point we shall now go and see a man about a horse.”
-Excerpt from Book One of the Ascension Wars
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