The Crimson Storm (Ch. 6)

What will happen to our adventurers this time? Let's explore to find out!

Chapter Six: High Hopes are Low

The Crimson Storm…

<Unnamed Patron>  

Degriţito quickly woke Celtìca up and grabbed her in his arms to rush to leave. He had just heard that Horus was stabbed in the heart with a sharpened wand…Horus’s wand to be exact. Shaman Kilé exited her room to join the others. Ven had gone to get her. The five made their way to one of the many snow-portals. Everyone was panicking as they knew that, if Horus could be killed in their own safety housing, anyone could be next.

Transport after transport of mages finally led to the five adventurers being teleported outside of the order’s castle and into the world.

The five were safely transported…though they were not together. It seemed that the snow-portal had been messed with. Probably by the same person that murdered Horus. Luckily though, most mages were teleported in a group. Celtìca and Ven were in one of the various groups as Degriţito and Shaman Kilé were in another. Grand Almen was in a group on his own, away from any other party member... They were spread across the region and did not know where the others were.

Degriţito was concerned for the well-being of Celtìca and did not like her to be out on her own…not knowing that she was with Ven. Shaman Kilé was also concerned but knew that they would have to stick together. Everyone.

Shaman Kilé made her own party with most of the mages who were there and Degriţito. The other Mages formed their own party and ventured on with Shaman Kilé, their newfound leader. Kilé’s party(s) ventured south. It was lucky that at least Kilé knew where they were. They were near an inactive volcano. They were near West Redemption…a small village of craftsmen who live and work in the village. Sometimes they venture to trade their goods. Luckily the village of West Redemption hasn’t been struck by the ferocious volcano in a while, since the snow that had come nearly made it impossible for it to be active. The two parties made their way to West Redemption.

Meanwhile, Grand Almen noticed that he happened to be home. He unveiled his house and entered inside. He invited all of the mages who were there with him. There was no point in him finding the others. He knew they would find him…in time. Grand Almen just couldn’t think knowing that his oldest friend Horus was killed by the Crimson League. Grand Almen is now joining Degriţito in his quest for vengeance.

The mages gladly accepted his offer to join him inside and they all entered. Grand Almen was still enraged and yet saddened by the loss of his comrade. He settled down though as he waved his hand to light the fire and sat down by it.

Also, Celtìca and Ven were in a party. Ven, gladdened by the thought of leading the brigade, made his own party.

Ven was saddened that he couldn’t take any more but the other mages made their own party and joined Ven in the journey to regroup. They knew that there were many mages of the Økfen order out there and all they had to do was find them.

Not knowing where they were, Ven and the two parties traveled northeast to try and see if any part of the Sing Village was that way. Celtìca was still dizzy from the incident yesterday but was over it. She was just heartbroken that her love, Degriţito, was out on his own…also not knowing that he too was with mages.

The storms outside started up again and all of the separate parties ran for shelter, except for Grand Almen’s party who were already indoors and by a fire. There was nothing to do now but wait for the storms to stop.

Shaman Kilé’s party was in West Redemption and finally came inside an inn. They all settled down by the fire. Some mages ordered wine, Kilé ordered some tea. Degriţito, though, stared out the window not knowing if Celtìca was safe out in the cruel world. She wasn’t a child silly man…but love can do things to you.

A man, who previously got up from his couch offering it to one of the many mages, noticed the paladin staring out the window…sighing. The man knew right then and there that the paladin was in love. He laughed; then went back to reading his book.

A few moments later, a strange phrase was yelled out from within the kitchen.

“The Crimson Storm…” spoke a man. It was a scraggly sounding man and nobody knew who it was that spoke but everybody turned to look at the kitchen door.

“What was that about the storms?” The man, who was now reading his book, asked. He had turned in the direction of the sound and shouted out the question.

“THE CRIMSON STORM…” shouted the same man from the kitchen, “is upon us…” he then whispered.

A tiny man came stumbling out, rather he was pushed out by the cooks and crew in the kitchen, into the room where everyone happened to have been.

“Excuse me?” asked the man, who put down his book in intrigue to what the crazy stumbling person had said, “What was that about the storms?”

The stumbling man, who we could now see was a wizard…of sorts…wearing drab clothing and holding a staff, spoke in return.

“The Crimson Storms will never cease for those up above believe we need the warning.”

“What warning?” Shaman Kilé asked the stranger as she pushed past some of the patrons of the inn who were gathered around in wonder. She was at the front of the crowd and awaited an answer from the strange wizard.

“Hmm?” The bumbling old wizard spoke as he whizzed around to face the crowd. He spun past them and made a second…third…fourth attempt. Kilé stopped the spinning wizard and held him by the shoulders. He breathed at her and she could tell that he was drunk…more drunk than any other person she had ever met…and she had worked in many taverns in her day.

“Oof…” She spoke as she whisked away the smell of whiskey and rum from her nose. She knew that the wizard’s reliability could not be trusted and she decided, after letting go of her hold on the wizard, to venture off to her room.

The crowd, still curious, soon tightened up once the Shaman had left. They were all still intrigued by what the wizard, albeit drunk, had said. If it was just nonsense, the crowd thought, they would just brush it off and return to their wine drinking or lollygagging about.

“Please…continue.” Degriţito had said after he pulled himself from the window, where he had been staring outside while the others were in a circle around the wizard. The sound in his voice was very sad. He pushed his way to the front of the crowd and looked at the drunken man with hope. He had hoped that perhaps the wizard knew the warning and could tell him and he could use the information to rip down the Crimson League. Envy grew ever so slightly in his heart. It couldn’t be fully developed for sorrow lay in the wake.

“I do believe…” spoke the drunken wizard, “that I need more whiskey!” The Wizard stumbled towards the bar and, after nearly knocking down the bar, drank some more. Soon after, a patron grabbed the bottle in anger and spoke to the wizard.

“Answe’ the fella’s question.” The angry patron asked, still holding the whiskey bottle firmly in his grasp as he pointed at the wizard.

“Well then…” the wizard said stumbling over to a couch, “How rude!” He spoke, rolling the r in rude. He then went on after sitting down and collecting himself. The wizard looked sad, not sad in his face just sad to look at. It is as though he had fought tremendous battles in his heyday and now he is just a drunken fool…which was all true.

There is a story [the Wizard spoke after collecting his thoughts] that I firmly hold near and dear to my heart. It goes that the winds of change will blow. We all know this story, yes? [Most of the crowd nodded in return] Well for those who don’t I will tell you. The story is told that the winds of change will blow towards those who can change it. It is a great, magical, and mystical tale. It is said that if the winds of change go unheard that it will turn into a storm. The winds do not like stability, especially if the stability is completely wrong. Albeit the stability in this case is the ongoing war between the Crimson League and the Økfen Order, but that has been going on for many years now. Even when they were at peace, they were still at war. The winds have been blowing for many decades and it has finally, I will say this…it took them enough time, became a storm.

“The Crimson Storm.” One of the patrons said.

“IS UPON US!” The wizard jumped out of his seat screaming. The staff in the kitchen looked into the room and rolled their eyes while doing so. They soon went on with their cleaning and cooking. The wizard finally settled down after a few hiccups and a few burps.

“Beg your pardon.” He politely said as he was about to resume his tale. But before doing so, questions beamed at him from all of the patrons from every corner of the room.

Degriţito whistled at the patrons. It was high pitched and made everyone cover their ears.

“Enough!” He shouted at them all. Degriţito was angered and just wanted a straight answer. “Tell me wizard, what is the warning you speak of.” He held the wizard by his robe. He stared at the wizard, and the wizard stared back. It was the kind of staring where, since the two were close enough, the two eyes of a human melded into one. It is quite awkward and it should never be done, but alas it was.

The wizard simply spoke after all of the staring back and forth between himself and the Paladin had ceased.

“Change or we’ll change it for you.”