Chapter 2: Markas finds himself all alone until a chance encounter introduces him to some new travel companions. Note: All spells are untranslatable. Any 'foreign” languages used will be translated by footnote in the text.
The Thirsty Scholar was one of the most respectable taverns in Carsonia. It was located right in the center of the university district, so the bulk of its patrons were students or professors. Markas hadn't been here in ages, not since his older brother was in university, studying to be a scholar. As a knight, his options were limited. He would not have felt right going to a place like the Rusty Tankard down by the docks. And the Velvet Pearl was very elegant but also very expensive. He had gone to the Merrymist Inn plenty when he was younger, but he didn't particularly feel like bumping into someone he knew. So the Thirsty Scholar seemed the best option.
When he had arrived in Carsonia, he went to the Temple of Torus and made his report to the High Priest Avin. Avin took careful notes and said he would contact his superiors and would contact Markas as soon as he had their response. That was a week ago. He returned home to his parents' house to wait.
His mom cried when she had heard what happened, assuring Markas that she was simply relieved that he was unharmed. His father called him a hero. His older brothers questioned him about what had happened and how he survived. Finally, they all retired to their chambers, his father remarking how glad he was that Markas was home.
Home. While he was glad to see his family, this wasn't home. It had been five years since he left to join the Order. His oldest brother was married and had two daughters now. His other brother had finished at university and was now a full fledged scholar. And he was a knight. When he had enlisted in the Golden Gryphons, he hadn't fully realized what that meant, how it would set him apart from his family. He missed the citadel, he missed his comrades, and he missed having a purpose.
While the rest of his family retired, he went out the stables. Kirin lay in the hay in the back of the stable, strategically placed away from his family’s horses. Markas carried a bucket of scraps from the butcher’s over to her and set it down. The gryphon ruffled her feathers and stared at Markas.
“Look, I’m sorry girl,” Markas sighed, “You can’t hunt in the city and it will get a bit expensive to feed you a goat everyday.”
Kirin snorted but then began to pick through the buckets contents. Markas grabbed a brush and began to stroke Kirin’s golden fur.
“I’m sorry,” Markas said, “Hopefully, we’ll only be here a few days. I met with High Priest Avin today and told him what happened. He has to send word back to the council in Argenault and wait for their answer.”
“Hopefully, it won’t take them too long. Though they’ll have to consult with the Knights of Torus. I wonder what they’ll think of this. The Golden Gryphons were a large part of the Knights of Torus. I’m sure they won’t be pleased. After all, there’s nothing between Decadris and the rest of the world now. Not that the undead have wandered from the cursed city in ages, except for…”
Markas sank down next to Kirin.
“I keep replaying it in my head. What could we have done differently? We should have realized sooner that it was a trap. We should have tried to lure it back to the citadel. We should have…”
Markas sighed and Kirin let out a low caw in response. She reached her head around and nuzzled him with her beak. Markas scratched her side and she began to purr softly.
“I know, but I can’t help thinking about it. Maybe it will be easier when we hear back from the council.”
*****
When the summons from the High Priest Avin finally arrived, he rushed to the temple.
"Good day, Sir Tau," the priest greeted him.
"Good day," he replied.
"I'm sorry to be one to inform you of this," the priest began, looking sadly at Markas, "but the status of your order is to remain undetermined for now. Apparently, the Temples of Torus are rather stretched for resources right now and there is no one available to help you restart it."
"I understand," Markas said, "But do they at least have any idea of who may have done this?"
"I'm afraid not. It seems logical that the attack came from Decadris," the priest said.
“Yes, sir,” Markas said, “But Decadris is simply a stronghold of corruption and undead. The things that dwell there aren’t organized in any way. That’s why the Golden Gryphons were created. Our job was to make sure that those bearing the plague didn’t wander too far from the cursed city.”
“I know,” the High Priest replied, "That’s the mystery and the temple is at just as much a loss as you. But I do have orders for you. You are to report to Sir Tiberius of the Order of the Shining Light in Argenault. You are to act as our liason to him. He may be able to assist you in discovering who is behind the attack on your Order."
"Yes, sir," Markas replied, saluting.
“Torus blessing with you,” the priest said, as Markas left.
He was going to set off right away, but his stomach growled and he figured he better get a good meal before he had to resort to rations on the road. He hadn't wanted to go home, so he decided a quick stop at a tavern would be prudent. So that’s how he ended up sitting in the Thirsty Scholar, eating his midday meal.
He thought he should feel more satisfied with his new orders; at least he had a purpose now, to find out what happened to the Golden Gryphons. He tried to relax, enjoy his mediocre lunch, and the overly maudlin ballad the bard on stage was singing. But the questions repeatedly raced in his mind.
An army of undead? How could anyone organize such a force? And even if they did, how could they move so quickly? Who could be that powerful? And where do I start looking for them?
He knew the answer. Decadris.
But to go there alone would be suicide. He knew his best option was to follow orders and go to Sir Tiberius. The Knights of the Shining Light were the most renowned knightly order on the continent. Every bard had at some point sung the praises of Sir Tiberius. If anyone could help, he was sure that Sir Tiberius could.
Markas was about to leave when four large men, dressed in rough worn leather entered the tavern, each with a large axe strapped to their backs. The entire tavern fell silent as they stood in the doorway. Even the bard stopped singing.
"Raiders!" someone finally whispered.
"What are they doing here?" another whisper came.
The men glared around the room and the patrons suddenly became overly interested in their meals. The men sauntered though the bar to a table in front of the small dais where the bard had been performing. They all stood around a red-headed girl who had been sitting there.
"Move it, wench," one said.
"I believe there are many open tables," she replied calmly, staring straight at the raider.
The raider pushed her out of her chair onto the floor.
"I said move it wench!"
Markas's hand moved instinctively to his own battleaxe. The girl got up and brushed herself off. She stared at the raider intently, the fingers of her right hand moving in a strange pattern. Her lip trembled. Finally, she grabbed her knapsack.
"You aren't worth it," she said and huffily sat at another table.
The raiders laughed as they sat down at the table. The bard tried to sneak off the dais, but the raiders spotted him.
"You. Play something. Something good," one of the raiders said.
The bard stopped. He took up his mandolin and began to strum.
"Oh, my lady fair. Her eyes are stars…"
"I said something good!" the raider shouted.
The bard looked around the room desperately. The patrons still seemed very intent on their meals. One of the raiders held his axe in his hands, looking menacingly at the bard.
"Play something bawdy," came a voice from the back.
Markas turned around to see a rather shabby figure sitting in the back corner, quietly sipping on a flask. Markas noted that he had a sword on his belt and had his hand casually resting on the hilt under that table.
"There once was a wench with a bucket," the bard began to sing.
"Yes!" cried the raider, "Good!"
As the bard continued on, singing racy song after racy song, Markas wondered if he should leave. The raiders were thugs, but they hadn't done anything truly wrong other than being incredibly rude. Still, it wouldn't hurt to delay his departure until after the raiders had left. Markas sat quietly, watching the obnoxious men hassle the bar maid as she tried to take their order. He expected others to try and leave, but no one moved. They were too scared to even try to get away Markas realized. The bar maid timidly returned to the table to serve their drinks. Her arm was shaking horribly, but she managed to not spill a drop. As she set the last tankard down, one of the men grabbed her around the waist and pulled her on his lap.
“Why don’t you stay and keep me and my mates company?”
“Please, sir, excuse me but I’m working right now.”
“Ha, ha. You get that. She called me sir,” the raider laughed, “I don’t think your boss’ll mind if you keep us some company, do you gov?”
The raider looked over the tavern keeper. The tavern keeper lowered his head and continued to clean the bar.
“See, there sweetie, he don’t mind none,” the raider said, playing with her hair, “It’s good for business for you to be sociable. And maybe when were done down here you can go upstairs with us and be sociable up there.”
“Please…I…” the barmaid stammered, tears welling up in her eyes.
“You hear that! She even said please, so polite,” the raider said, his hand reaching down and grabbing the bar maid’s behind, “What do you think of that?”
“I think you need to leave her alone,” Markas said, standing up.
The raider laughed.
“I suggest you let her go and leave this establishment,” Markas said, pulling out his battle axe.
“Oh, excuse me Sir,” the raider said mockingly, “But me and my mates don’t feel like it. Do we boys?”
With that, the four raiders jumped out of their chairs and rushed Markas, knocking him over. They pulled out their own axes and swung at Markas as he stood up. Two clanged against his armor and he blocked another with his own axe. He then brought his own axe around and knicked one in the arm.
“Ow!” the raider screamed, “Bastard!”
Markas swung his axe again but the raiders deftly moved out the way. They brought their axes up against his armor. The clang shook him and he realized he wasn’t sure how he was going to take all four. Suddenly, from across the room, the red-headed girl began to chant. A soft green glow emanated from her hands, shot across the room, and hit one of the raiders squarely in the back.
He cried with pain, “You stupid little bitch. You shouldn’t have done that!”
He turned around and began to run at her. She calmly made a motion as if she were shooting and arrow and whispered, “Spectra Projectus.”
A ghostly arrow appeared between her hands. She let go of the imaginary arrow and shot it right into the raider’s chest. The man dropped to his knees, then fell over.
Meanwhile, Markas continued to deal with other three. He felt their axes clang against his armor, as a well placed blow took another of the raiders down. Several more blasts from the red-headed girl whizzed by him and hit the raiders.
Just then, a large, foreboding figure appeared in the doorway. He was dressed like the other raiders, but twice as big as any man in the room. His dark, piercing eyes surveyed the room, and he stroked his long black mustache as if contemplating the scene. In his other hand, he held a chain which was connected to hideous little kobold. As he if he were done thinking, he reached around casually with his free hand and removed a large sword from his back. As soon as he did, the shadowy figure who had been observing for the corner jumped up, sword drawn, and stood in front of the tall raider.
“Seems like it’s already a fair fight, don’t you think?” the dark stranger said, his sword pointed at the large raider, “We probably shouldn’t interfere.”
The larger raider laughed and tugged on the chain of the kobold. It moved its twisted little hands and began chanting in a strange language. Suddenly a small flame appeared on the dark stranger’s sleeve.
“Ow!” the stranger cried as he beat the flame out, “Why you little…”
The dark stranger brought his sword around and hit the kobold squarely on the side, causing it the yelp in pain. Meanwhile, the tall raider watched as a blast from the red-headed girl and well placed swing from Markas’s axe brought down the final two raiders. The remaining tall raider gave a tug on the kobolds chain. The kobold began to chant again. The dark stranger brought his sword around to hit the kobold again, but all it hit was air as the kobold and his master vanished from the room.
The tavern’s common room was in shambles. Several tables and chairs had been smashed. The remains of several patrons’ meals littered the floor. The patrons themselves were huddle in the corners. Suddenly, there was a loud clanging from outside as five city guards rushed in.
“What’s going on here?” the sergeant of the guards yelled out.
“It’s about time you got here,” Markas said, calmly.
“Now wait just a minute, who are you and…” the guard began but stopped as he looked Markas, in his full plate over. His eyes fell on the holy symbol on Markas’s breast plate, “A knight of Torus. I’m sorry sir…I…um.”
“I am Sir Markas Tau of the Golden Gryphons. These men,” Markas said, indicating the four bodies on the floor, “tried to accost the barmaid. I gave them the opportunity to cease and desist, but they instead to chose to attack to me. I was able with the help of some of the other patrons to stop them. You will, of course, want to talk to the other patrons and help the proprietor clean up his establishment.”
“Yes sir,” the guard said looking around, “This is all of them then?”
“No, there was one more. Large man, long dark mustache. He had a pet kobold. He and his pet vanished.”
“That sounds like Krumar,” the guard replied, “He is the leader of the raiders that have been attacking caravans between here and St. Ridgestone and Argenault for almost three years now. If both him and his underlings were here, they must be camped nearby.”
Suddenly, the dark stranger who had been milling about, surveying the damage ran over and grabbed the guard by his collar.
“What about this Krumar? Do you know anything else? Has he been sighted anywhere else near here?” the stranger yelled.
“No, sorry I don’t,” the befuddled guard replied, “This is the first sighting of him in Carsonia ever. There is a 1000 gold reward for his capture, but so far he’s been a slippery fellow. They say he camps somewhere different every night.”
The stranger dropped the guard and stormed out of the tavern without another word.
“Should we go after him?” the guard asked.
“No,” Markas replied, “He did assist in the fight here. Let him go for now.”
*****
Emily couldn’t believe it. She had only been in Carsonia a few hours and already there had been something exciting.
As she helped the barmaid pick up the knocked over tables and chairs, she wondered what she was going to do next. In her knapsack was a letter from her uncle to Professor Taner at the University d’Estoric. All she had to do was give him that letter and she would have a comfortable university position and could continue in her studies. In fact Mama Greta had said, “The first thing you do when you get to Carsonia is give Professor Taner that letter.”
Simply hand in that letter and her future was all set—a long career as an academic. Emily fingered the star pendant around her neck. There was plenty of time to start to her academic career, there were other things she wanted to do first.
“Excuse me,” a voice from behind interrupted Emily’s musings. She turned around to face a young girl, about 15 years of age.
“Excuse me,” the girl said again, “But are you a scholar in the magical arts?”
“Well…yes,” Emily replied.
“Oh wonderful,” the girl said, “You can’t imagine how hard I’ve been looking. My uncle said to look for scholar who wasn’t afraid to cast spells and I wasn’t sure because I haven’t seen anyone casting any spells, but you just did which means you’re exactly who I was looking for.”
“Huh?” Emily said.
“I’m sorry. My name is Marta Pelson and I’m from Brue Village north of here. My Uncle Randon sent me to Carsonia to find a scholar to help with a problem our village has been having.”
“Well, I’m not sure how much help I’d be,” Emily said.
“Oh, I think you’d be perfect. You see a week ago a stranger came to our village. Said he was a fortune teller, had a crystal ball and everything. Well ever since he arrived strange things started happening. People started walking around if they were in a trance or something---all the important people—mayor, town guard. And suddenly there all these undead and zombies walking around in the forest by us. It ain’t safe to go out after sundown anymore.”
Emily pondered the girl’s story. There were lots of things that could put people in a trance. But she wasn’t sure what that had to do with the undead. She wasn’t sure how effective she would be against undead. What the town really needed was priest or a knight…like a knight of Torus.
“Will you help us?” the girl asked.
“Yes, just give me one second,” Emily said as she went over to the knight, who was talking with tavern keeper.
“Um, excuse me, Sir..uh,” Emily started.
“Sir Markas Tau,” he replied, “Can I help you with something?”
“Yes,” Emily continued, “My name is Emily Rosewood. The young lady over there just asked me to come to her village and help her with a situation they are having there. Apparently, a stranger came to their village and is putting the villagers in trances.”
“Well, that really sounds like something for a scholar,” Sir Markas said.
“I know,” Emily said, “But she also said the undead have appeared all around her village. And I thought, that as a knight of Torus, you might be able to help us?”
Sir Markas pondered for a second.
“Of course.”
“Oh, thank you,” Emily said, grabbing the knight’s hand, “I’ll just go tell Marta and we can be on our way.”
“Excuse me,” a melodious voice interrupted. Emily and Sir Markas turned to face the bard who had wandered over.
“I couldn’t help overhearing,” he continued, “And if it is acceptable to you both, I would be honored to accompany you and provide my own services. Especially to such a fair maiden.”
Emily blushed. She had been watching him perform before the raiders had entered the tavern, not because she thought he was particularly talented, but because he was a half-elf too. She had never met another one before. She thought it was a brilliant stoke of luck and had intended on trying to talk to him afterwards. But she hadn’t realized that he had noticed her too.
“You have a name?” Markas asked.
“Jonathan Silverthorn,” he said, tousling his long curly blonde hair, “Bard extraordinaire. I have performed at some of the finest courts…”
“What we are doing might be a bit dangerous,” Sir Markas interrupted, “I’m not sure what use your singing will be.”
“Ah, good sir,” Jonathan replied, flashing a bright smile, “I do not just sing but I am a man of many talents. You will find I am quite handy with bow. And while my magic is no match for this lovely young scholar, I can cast a few cantrips.”
“Of course you can come,” Emily said, her heart jumping, “I’m sure any help you can offer will be appreciated. My name is Emily Rosewood and this is…”
“Sir Tau,” the knight interrupted, “Sir Markas Tau.”
“Ah, my fair lady,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it, “I am most enchanted and you’re most humble servant. You have but to command me and I will carry out your every wish. I…”
“Ahem,” Markas said.
“And of course, Sir Markas. It’s honor to fight by your side, comrades in arms!”
“Eh…yeah,” Markas replied, “I suppose as soon as we are finished helping clean up here, we should depart. Unless either of you have any objections?”
“No,” Emily replied, “I’ll go tell Marta.”
“Of course not,” Jonathan replied, “As I always say why delay…”
“Yes,” Markas replied, “Why don’t you help me pick up these tables?”
Emily rushed over to Marta and told her she would not only have her help but the help of Sir Markas and Jonathan. Marta jumped up and down and hugged Emily. Emily could appreciate Marta’s joy, she herself was very excited. Jonathan was another half-elf and might have a clue as to how Emily could find her parents. Such a stroke of good luck was surely a sign that she should go and search for them. The University could wait.
*****
Ian sat under a tree along the road leading out of Carsonia. He wasn’t sure what good rushing off like that had been really. He had been searching for three years now. Early on, the clues had been numerous. The raiders’ fame increased. He was almost certain they were the ones who had attacked Katrina’s caravan. He knew a man name Krumar had the answers he wanted. But that’s where the trail ended. Krumar was elusive. Ian had been traveling for three years between Argenault and Carsonia, hiring out his sword to survive. Three years and no sign of the man he’d been hunting. Then he stops in a tavern for lunch and who should appear but that very man.
And what did I do. I let him get away, Ian thought, clenching his teeth. So he had rushed out here, hoping to find Krumar. But of course Krumar wasn’t standing outside the city gate waiting for him. So he sat under a tree and decided to think it through. He had a lead on Krumar’s general location; perhaps he could search the area.
“Hello there!” a cheery voice interrupted his thoughts. He looked up and saw the red-headed girl from the tavern, a large raven perched on her shoulder.
“Can I help you with something?” he asked.
“Well, I think you can,” she replied, “You were at the tavern when the raiders attacked right?”
“Yes.”
“Well, you see, there was this girl at the tavern who asked me to help her with some trouble that was going on at her village. So I agreed to help and so did some of the other people who were in the tavern fight. And since you were there too, I thought you might like to join us,” the red-headed girl finished, smiling.
Ian stared at this unusual half-elf girl. If he hadn’t seen her chuck blasts of pure magical power from her hands, he would have wondered who in the world would want her help. She stood there smiling, as if she never had had a bad thought in her life.
“Well?” she asked again.
Ian stood up and said, “Well, you see…I…er…”
“Emily, what are you doing?” a voice coming up the road interrupted.
“Trying to get some extra help,” Emily replied to a knight, who walked over to her. It was the knight from the tavern, except now he was leading a giant gryphon by the reigns. Along with him was the bard from the tavern and a little peasant girl who seemed absolutely terrified of the gryphon.
“I don’t think we need his help,” the knight said, surveying the shabby state of Ian’s clothes and armor.
“Are you sure?” Emily replied, “I mean a rogue scholar and some undead are a lot as is, but Marta said there have also been spottings of raiders all around her village. I figured some extra muscle couldn’t hurt.”
Raiders around her village—it instantly registered with Ian.
“I’ll do it,” he said, jumping up.
“Hooray!” said Emily.
“How much?” Markas asked, staring at Ian.
“What a rude question!” Emily said, “I’m sure he doesn’t want any…”
“He’s a sword for hire, a mercenary, if I’m not mistaken,” the knight interrupted her.
“You’re not,” Ian replied, “But I’ll do this one for free.”
“Why?” the knight asked, unblinking.
“That’s my personal business,” Ian replied.
“Wonderful! I almost forgot. I’m Emily Rosewood, this is Sir Markas Tau, Jonathan Silverthorn, and that there is Marta Polson, the girl we’re helping,” she said, pointing to each in turn, “And you are?”
“Ian.”
“Just Ian?” Emily asked.
“Yes,” Ian replied.
“Well, we better get going,” Emily replied cheerily.
Ian looked at his new traveling companions and wondered what he had just got himself into.
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