Chapter 1

The wiles of a bard, the news of a knight, and a merchant of detestable tastes. How will the king and queen fare against this sudden news?

Having arrived only several hours hence, the knight strode from his room through the halls of the castle, his path directing him to the throne room where he knew Moria's monarchs awaited. However, his mind was far from peaceful as he strode through the halls, past peasant servant and guardsman alike. No, for memories of the events which had caused his return spiraled through his mind's eye, tormenting him as if he had never left at all.

Even as he came to stand before the gilded gateway into the throne room he was forced to pause, allowing the flashes of memory to play through his mind. He did not want to bring such a mindset before his betters.

Flooding forth from the earth, as if pulled from the darkness of Casan. Their forms bathed in the colors of those depths and the many who had fallen before them. Their skittering limbs carrying them swiftly cross ground and into the ranks of his battalion.

Swords drawn and shields barred against the beasts they fought, but they were strong beyond strength, and quick beyond measure, tearing through their ranks almost as if no one stood against them. Then came the chants as the bards invoked their magics, casting them down upon the masses of insectoid abominations known as the Ki'int.

Still the monstrosities pressed forth, clambering over their fallen comrades, unfazed by the magical assault. Knowing the beasts drew near, Raal drew his blade, calling orders out to his men as he felt the energies begin to flow through his form. He would rally against them and at least stop them here before they spread further, defiling the land. It was all he could do.

So it was that once held back, he was forced to return home, turning his back to the field where his men were left to face the beasts.

Even now, before the gateway he could see them in his mind; massive insectoid beasts half the size of a man and at least as long, their bodies plated with chitinous armor, their eyes oddly recessed into their skulls, empty and black as the void. Carried upon six limbs, with sixteen just as ready to thrash flesh as their maw cleaved muscle and maims all before them. With tails outstretched and limbs spiked and throny, the Ki'int were truly a force not to be reckoned with, especially when their strange magic was brought to bear.

Shaking his head roughly, he finally managed to clear the thoughts and images from his mind. With that and a hope that they could fend off the monsters rather than be overrun like the many who had tried before, he pushed upon the doors and entered the room.

Gold, jade, and sapphire were the materials, which decorated the room before him. The Gold gilding the hall in intricate weaving patterns; Green Jade embroidered here and there so as to form leaves from the golden trees which were the room’s supports. Then came the thrones, positioned at the pinnacle of the room. They shone blue as light refracted through their sapphire facets.

Upon the rightmost throne sat King Jen and to his left was his queen, Monea, both garbed in their full regalia. To the queen he owed far more than his fealty and despite the resplendant nature of the thrones it was her smile which he found most stunning.

To show his deference, Raal lowered touched his knee to the gilded stone, a shiver of warmth running its course throughout his body. “I am home…” he said with one more sigh and a smile as he knelt to the monarchs.

“Rise Sir Raal” echoed the king’s baritone, serious and strong in its sound. The knight rose to find the king's smile beaming down upon him.

He couldn't help but return it, “Thank you your majesty,” he replied. Jen's smile grew wider at the response before he turned to regard Monea as the sound of her footsteps rang behind him. The woman glided past him and down the steps from the dias 'pon which the thrones sat, approaching the knight.

The eyes of both men followed Monea’s feminine form as she treaded before Sir Raal. Her eyes looked him up and down before focusing on his face, at which point she smiled. “I see you returned in one piece dear knight.” Her words flowed like honey in his veins and so his smile was an honest one.

His head nodded to her once “Yes, I made sure to, my queen.”

Monea laughed, then turned to her husband, “I think we shall throw a feast to celebrate Raal’s return!” Raal opened his mouth to protest, but before a sound could be issued another voice intruded, and the queen silenced him with but a glance.

“Feasts and festivities are grand and good, but there is waste caused by such endeavors.” In reaction to the voice Monea turned from the source in distaste and stalked back to her throne in an attempt to hide her outrage. Immediately Jen rose and his voice boomed down at the merchant “G’hros! You have no sway here, keep that in mind when you speak among your betters!” G’hros wore no smile but beneath the surface he was slightly pleased. “Oh I keep firmly to my bases oh highest lord.” G’hros bowed with a flourish of his arm and then rose once more to greet the king’s eyes with his same doldrum expression “I simply make known the cost of such things as feasts.”

G’hros then took his place next to the knight, who dwarfed him by almost two whole feet, and fervently addressed the issues of money. “Though it is certain that the great Sir Raal Tjin of Varmat’kri deserves a feast, I simply cannot condone such wasteful usage of your royal treasury.” Raal’s expression had gone from pleasure to scowl, but now was settling on a worried frown as he turned his eyes to Monea and the king.

“I must admit to agree with this man…” he looked to G’hros, not knowing the stout fellow’s name. G’hros ignored him, “See, even the knight see’s the merit of my words.” Raal flinched, but Jen held his tongue and had already again taken his seat. The king’s eyes were like slits as he glared into the orbs of the haughty merchant. G’hros however continued even as he held the king’s stare with a dry look of his own “surely there is a reason behind the knight’s dissent to his own celebration. What say you Sir Raal?” G’hros set his gaze on the knight and felt the thrum of his heart in his chest; business was his only true passion.

For a long moment Raal did not speak and it became harder still when Jen set his royal eyes on him too. “A threat has resurfaced and cast its looming shadow across our southern border. The rumors say that it spreads further even than that.”

G’hros’ eyes twinkled, and the king’s own brown eyes flashed, “Why bother with a rumor!” His voice shook the halls; or rather it felt that way to Raal. Barely forcing it out, he continued, “The Ki’int have impeded on our land and the pact has been broken.” The king, hands having gripped the arms of his throne weakened and he nearly fell back into the seat with the force of shock.

“The pact…has been broken” his words were but a whisper, as he dared not say such a thing aloud. The Ki’int, violent brutish creatures of horrid insectoid breed, were the beings that ruled over the country south of Moria. If that were not daunting enough, these beings had been the end of most regions beyond, many which Moria had little contact with, and now had none. These Ki’int were dangerous things and though they were often compared to pests they were in truth quite the threat, a threat that seldom few wished to deal with "as even fewer among these dealers could escape their wrath. Moria however had been lucky, but no more. The tremulous pact with the creatures had been broken; their peaceful reprieve from the abominations was at an end. Only luck and perhaps the possibility of allies could deliver them from this hellish fate.

It was in this way that it struck Jen, for if the pact was truly broken then it meant almost certain demise to his beautiful country and the precious people who lived in it. “No!” he said with a strain of fear in his voice.

Meanwhile, at his side, Monea sat with a shocked look on her face, but at seeing her spouse’s inability to act she took in a sharp breath and acted in his stead. “Are the sources reliable? If so we must act, and quickly if we wish to sate the greed of these pests.” Raal simply stood with worry on his brow and his heart sinking, the warmth had faded. “I swear it by the sights that I myself have witnessed and the blood shed by my blade.”

G’hros found he was rather pleased by the proceedings, he knew that Mariat would love to hear of this later. “Might I propose that you send three envoys to carry your message, and call for the men whose banners owe loyalty to you?” Monea seemed to nod slowly in thought at the merchant’s words.

“Yes, we will send them with escorts. The Ki’int will not care if we kill several dozen to reach them.” ‘After all, I have done worse already,’ Raal thought in silence. Still the king shook his head as Monea spoke. “No, they know we are desperate. We either retreat or gather our men and prepare for the worst.” The king’s tone was somber now and filled with the weight of his position. Raal felt sad to have brought this news to his dear friend Jen and even worse to worry the Queen.

Few other words were said in the moments following this and soon Raal was sent to tend to himself. Raal of course merely wandered the halls, he loved the palace. The decorations that riddled it were all he could pay heed to so as to dampen his worries. Yet each time he tried to distract himself something would pull from him those feelings of worry and the stirrings of old memories.

Each sound of scuttling spiky feet that reached him drove more rage into him and he struck out, blade in hand, to impale the beasts that dare mock his strength. None could stand against him and each of their chitenous bodies was pierced, cut, and mutilated by his blade. The blood was not his; it was their cries of pain in which he reveled, not the result.

“NO” the words abounded from his mouth and took to echoing in the halls. He looked about and was glad that no one had been in sight. Sighing, his heart erratic now in its rhythm, he rubbed his temples; he knew better than this, he knew he could not hide from the things he had done and would do. Yet still, it weighed on his heart like a thousand tons of stone and he could never fully shake it off, only temporarily struggle against it.

“What bothers you so, oh knight?” A song drifted to his ears and the melodic tones of a lute reached him. Mariat came into sight, lute in hand and voice a ring. “Why do you cry out in fright? It does not suit you, it just pollutes you, to want the loot in your sight.” Raal found the melody of the song cheerful yet sad, and the lyrics haunting.

Mariat continued to approach him “why do you run and hide when the horrors you fear are inside. Inside your mind.” With this the bard played several notes, high, to low and then medium and just off key enough to raise a question in the mind of the listener. For a long time Raal simply stood gazing at the bard, who took to the far wall and studied the stained glass window. “This is incredible work,” Mariat said in address to the knight, though he did not turn but continued to marvel at the craftsmanship.

Raal stuttered slightly as he spoke “y-yes it is” the bard only gave him a fleeting glance and chuckled. “How are you this fine night sir Raal?” Mariat questioned. Raal glanced at the stained glass as he spoke “I-I’m feeling…” he could not seem to find the words, but Mariat interjected “worried?” Raal nodded his head and Mariat seemed to concede as well as he began to move -albeit slowly- down the hall. “Just remember, facing your worries head on is the only viable solution…” it was then that the bard began to pluck a somber melody on his lute as he disappeared down the hall and turned a corner to leave the knight with his thoughts.

- - - - -

Dusk was nearing now and G’hros’s feet moved swiftly through the halls, he had every intention to speak with the king. The merchant did not care whether his royal highness was due for his bedtime, these matters were important. For, you see, after the revelations in the throne room several hours prior, G’hros had taken to the legal documentations of the treasury as well as various maps and some books on tactics.

Admittedly, he had not learned much from his browsing of the tomes, but the documents had confirmed what he had already believed. Moria was much poorer than the King would like to fool himself into believing. To G’hros this meant that the treasurer was a lying inept fool. G’hros, personally, hoped he was correct.

- - - - -

It was not long, not long at all and the knight soon felt a soft breeze on his flesh and then a hand glided its way onto his shoulder. Raal’s eyes closed and a smile graced his face, warmth, and a chuckle. “Greetings Monea,” he turned to see the queen standing there. She withdrew her hand and looked him over in a harsh manner. Raal did not recoil, he had seen that look before and he averted his eyes to the right and at the ground. Squarely his head jerked the same way as her once gentle hand laid a sharp ‘smack’ across his face.

The knight winced and waited for her rebuttal “you…why did you not send word of their arrival beforehand!?” Her words bit him like serpents and he began to become aware of the taste in the air ‘power….' He brought no protest as her harsh glare tore through him body and mind. He felt her influence and he closed his eyes and bared them against her.

Ruffled, moved, and jostled roughly as she scanned his thoughts and memories. Then her hand darted up and touched the center of his forehead with her thumb while placing her finger tips in his hair. She had to crane up to him as she did; Raal felt her hot sweet breath on his face.

When her hand moved he opened his eyes in surprise for it brushed his cheek and circled his jaw now, almost seductive in its touch. He shivered, the warmth rose and then her hand was pulled away. She snapped around and walked partly down the hall, only to turn back and eye him once with the look of a hawk. “Do not lie to me Raal, never lie, for your mind is not your own.” A shiver touched him and then she was gone, turned corner and vanished.

Raal sighed as his head began to ache. He knew that now sleep would evade him once more. He knew he could not fail again; never again. He had been given too many chances already. So he stalked off despite the pain in his temples and headed to his room. He needed some time before his task could be done; things were never so simple, never.

Reviews

[Sacsen Foote]

Wow you are really creating a world here, the descriptions are extremely well crafted in particular, the scale of this first chapter is great. Also I love the way you describe character reactions to dialogue. "“Why yes my friend” ‘I am no friend of yours…’ Ghros thought as the bard addressed him." This caused me a bit of a chuckle, and I like that. Keep up the good work.

[yoshua171]

Oh? I'm glad that bit made you laugh, it was meant to at least make the reader smile hahahaha. It also really gives a good sense for each character when you have things experienced from their perspective but not entirely.

Basically, I am using the 3rd person Selective Omniscient perspective. Which means the narrator is from 3rd person and they can see both the actions of the characters and how they are thinking/what they are thinking/what is going on inside them be it body or mind etc etc. It also means (due to the selectiveness) that it is unlikely that ALL the characters will be in Omniscient, though it'll always be 3rd person :)

Thanks by the way. I was trying to make the scope feel big even though the story is currently based in one primary location. I hope the writing alludes to that hehe.