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Endral
Topic Started: Jul 4 2007, 08:45 PM (1,321 Views)
Ariakas
Unregistered

Turak sat on a long bench in the shadows of a small tavern in the city of Endral, the capital of Sirth in Weissland. He was working on a bowl of soup and eat it slowly because he enjoyed the taste so much. Though he did not feel very hungry, the soup was hot and it did not fit with the hot weather that had been clinging to the city of Endral these last days.

He grabbed the bread lying beside him and took a bite. Immidiatly he felt a wierd taste in his mouth, and he coughed in disgust. Then he pulled a small piece of paper from his mouth. He hid it in the palm of his hand and put it in the pocket. He did not know who would have delivered the paper in this way, it was unheard of being so risky in the guild. But he would not read it until he was in a safe place. So he continued with his bread and bowl of soup, despite him not enjoying the taste so much anymore.
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Ariakas
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Turak walked casually along the dark streets of Endral. The streets were empty except for a few beggars, and fouler people, hiding in the corners as well as a very low number of townspeople trying to make it look like they just minded their own businnes. Most of them turned when they saw Turak. Few knew of his real position, but at nighttimes you would turn around, or walk around, most people you met on the streets of Endral. Turak had his hand casually on the hilt of his sword, and he scanned the dark street and the foreboding houses along it with his cold, grey eyes.

Finally, he saw what he was looking for. A barrel outside a door which a pair of manacles hung from. Turak stopped looking at the manacles then he knocked on the door. Shortly thereafter he could hear someone whisper from inside the door. He opened it and stepped inside a dark hallway. Shadows covered every corner of it, and one could not even see the floor such was the darkness. He slowly made his way through the hall and knocked on the iron door on the other side of it. Then he heard a voice again. Asking for the code word.

"Mortar dantar es'a arlbargensis thaendil," he said with a sly smile. Then the door slowly went open and he stepped through, into the giant stonehall where around twenty cloaked people sat on stonebenches, all of them facing the same direction. Towards a huge stonetable on top of a platform. Behind the stonetable three gigantic stones had been used to construct a doorway, one stone resting a top the others. Looking at this doorway or portal, or whatever it was, gave one a sickly feeling Turak believed. How they moved it around for each meeting was beyond what he could understand.
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Ariakas
Unregistered

Forth from the portal stepped a person. From his shoulder hung a long grey cloak, dirty at the tip. Thick war boots covered his feet, and his arms were naked and hairy.

The person's face was so scarred and charred that it was difficult to actually define his race at all. But Turak knew of the orc blood running through the man's veins. This man was Grobtak, leader of the Shattered Sword-guild.

A few years back a council had ruled the Shattered Sword, but one stormy night a man had breached the secured doors guarding the council, drawn his hammer and axe and killed them all before they truly realized what happened. Then Grobtak had entered from the shadows. His both charismatic, though frightening voice and hideous appearance had won them all over. Now there was only one leader of the Shattered Sword, and that was Grobtak. The man who had killed the council off for him had never been seen again.

Grobtak lifted his arms up and beckoned them all to silence. Every single conversation ended immidiately.

"The time for Weissland is coming to an end my friends," Grobtak rasp, but strong, voice spoke. "And there is nothing we can do about it. Weissland will fall whether we take part in the conflict or not."

With this totally unexpected relevation the unusual happened. The gathered members of the Shattered Sword began to mumble among themselves. But no one dared asking Grobtak what he meant.

"From the south," Grobtak voice cut all other talk off, "a shadow rises. The Lord of Dark Necromancy has returned once more."

"Drathmor?" numerous voices mumbled.

"Yes, Drathmor," Grobtak mouth formed a crooked smile, which only gave his face an even more frightening appearance. "Only carnage and darkness awaits Weissland now. However, this leaves options open for ourselves my friends. Now is the time to strike. I have already been in contact with the dark forces, and if we help them.... glory awaits us."

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Ariakas
Unregistered

The same night as the armies of Drathmor broke through the Great Wall, Loter and Gorfang fled north through the Pass of Kuren, Rios battled against Carlos Mortez on the Sea of Strengthand the evacuation of Ataya began, the Shattered Sword began their work.

The members of the city watch were quickly taken down by cunning assassins. The lord mayor was killed, and the barracks stormed by overwhelming numbers. Fighting carried on through the night, but despite the militias fierce resistance the citizens understood that the inevitable had happened. The Shattered Sword were finally in formal control of the city of Endral.
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Gorfang
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Nathaniel Drakkon
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((Its Nathaniel. :lol: ))
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Anubis, IPU is dead, long live IPU! A-Team member.

"If a loyal servant of Weissland is threatened, I will aid him to my dying breath, with every drop of my blood. There are older and more powerful things in the world that have faced me and underestimated my resolve, to their end." - Nathaniel Drakkon

"For what is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger!" - Aeron Damphair, a Song of Ice and Fire.

Visit the Drakkon Grimoire - The Collected, Completed Nathaniel Drakkon Fiction
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Ariakas
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((What the fligging flagonal flamish frog is wrong with me?))
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Gorfang
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Nathaniel Drakkon
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
((Its no problem, I only point it out because I don't want Gorfang to actually be a character in FHaG.))
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Anubis, IPU is dead, long live IPU! A-Team member.

"If a loyal servant of Weissland is threatened, I will aid him to my dying breath, with every drop of my blood. There are older and more powerful things in the world that have faced me and underestimated my resolve, to their end." - Nathaniel Drakkon

"For what is dead may never die, but rises again, harder and stronger!" - Aeron Damphair, a Song of Ice and Fire.

Visit the Drakkon Grimoire - The Collected, Completed Nathaniel Drakkon Fiction
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Ariakas
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((Yeah, I know. It's just that I don't really do these kinda mistakes that often and now I have done the same one in a row :lol: ))
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Lathaon
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Fallen Archmage
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((LOL :lol: Put Gorfang in the word filter :P ))
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Ariakas
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Three weeks later Endral had changed completely.

Silence filled the streets, the market, the central square and the walls. Silence like from the grave. In the beginning a few hundred had tried to flee the city and managed to seemingly get away. But the citizens had stopped trying to get away when the mornings thereafter each and every one of those who had fled lay lifeless on the ground before the walls outside the city. Then people had begun to disappear, in dark corners at night. Terror filled Endral and people stopped going out at night, then at evening and then barely at day. Food was running out, and the little there was were being taken by the Shattered Sword.

The guild now controlled the whole city, but even the members of the Shattered Sword felt uneasy about how the situation was. They began moving in groups through the city, armed and ready to face threats. Crows circled the city, and they soon turned into ravens and then into vultures. Then the plague broke out, taking countless of the citizens. A few members of the Shattered Sword died as well. But it lasted mysteriously enough only a week.

Then the ghouls came. Or at least the rumours about them. People disappeared from their very own homes, and was found in dark corners which soon turned into massgraves. The members of the Shattered Sword continued to become more and more careful although none of their members was attacked.

"Of course that is only a matter of time," Grobtak spoke as he limped across the floor in the former mayor's residence. It was now a filthy place. A frightened girl was shackled to the left wall in the room, terrified and abused. Grobtak was a man who cared little for others, except as tools to please his own lusts.

"And how long time is that," Gonhin asked. Gonhin was the half-orc servant of the Grobtak and most likely his closest man. He was a tall, thick-skinned fellow with a powerful jaw. His orcish heritage was prominent in his skin, green eyes and visible tusks.

"Until Weissland responds of course," Grobtak answered. "Following that I will have no more use of the Shattered Sword."

"Following that Lord Dantares might have no more use of you," Valon remarked. Valon was a thin dark elf, he was not a member of the Shattered Sword and therefore most other members of the organization did of course not trust him. Nothing but a whelp, Grobtak referred to him to the rest. In truth Valon was the one piece of the ploy in Endral which Grobtak actually relied on to survive. He had brought the ghouls.

"Don't be foolish," Grobtak answered with a snarl. "I was of use to Dantares before I acquired my position. Do you think the seat in the Dark Council was given to me so I should behave, to make me bark or sit when told to?"

Valon did not respond. "Don't you give me that look," Grobtak spat on the ground. He turned and was about to walk towards the girl who was almost frightened until death but then the door went up. In stepped Turak.
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Ariakas
Unregistered

Turak squinted with his dark eyes as he looked at Valon though he did not meet the gaze of Gonhin. The dark-haired, musky man seemed to ignored the half-orc altogether.

Turak walked up to Grobtak and delivered a small scroll. "The message that you has been waiting for," he said.

Grobtak quickly unfolded the scroll with a deep frown but grinned as he read the info.

"The Battalion has left Port Village and are heading for Weissland. Do not know their destination. They are very careful."

The letter had the mark of Crosben, Grobtak's thug in Port Village. Grobtak praised the day he had managed to get into contact with the Serpent Clan. The Dark Council had praised him for that.

"Thank you Turak," he said. "Please, step outside with Gonhin for a short time."

Turak took a short, untrained bow and walked outside with Gonhin.

Grobtak turned to Valon and gave him the letter so the dark elf could read it. "You must go to Amei. Immediately. I have my man there already, but he won't handle the Battalion themselves. I wont let this get out of control."

Valon played with his small dagger and looked disinterested, certainly just a way of mocking Grobtak. "Why not Ordail? They could arrive there."

"No," Grobtak shook his head. "First of all, Doman is in Ordail so he would most likely involve himself if he found out that I'm dealing with this myself. Also the White Realm forces are there, that complicates matters for the Battalion."

"That's not the reason now is it," Valon sheathed his dagger. "You have been in contact with them already."

Grobtak laughed, a spitting, deceitful laugh. He walked over to the girl hanging in shackles by the wall, moved her protesting hands away and let his long, scarred fingers ran across her naked shoulders and chest. "Let's say they are to meet a friend of ours. They are there to meet Fizban."

Valon chuckled to himself. Then he stepped up, turned his back and exited the room. Grobtak was left alone with his pleasures.
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Lord Sunnycool
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Lord of the Forums
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((Sounds good, Ariakas. Just to get things straight - Ash has not been in contact with Grobtak, has he? Grobtak is just a pawn in Fizban's plans, right?))
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"It is acceptable to spend the lives of those under your command! It is however not acceptable to waste those lives!"
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Ariakas
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((Ash has not been in contact with Grobtak, although I don't think you should draw too quick conclusions on the relationship between Grobtak and Fizban Dantares))
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Lord Sunnycool
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Lord of the Forums
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((I have a feeling Ash might have made a huge mistake :D ))
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"It is acceptable to spend the lives of those under your command! It is however not acceptable to waste those lives!"
The White Library
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chadden
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High Advisor to the Archmage
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The doors to the mayor's residence blew open as a mighty gust of wind swept Endral. A strange, malevolent presence filled the room where the man, Grobtak, stood with his captives.

At the back of the room sat a bookcase, and behind it lay a secret that had been kept very well hidden.

"Power..." whispered a solitary voice, emanating from around the bookcase.
"Stand against me if you must, for of course you will. Conflict is just another part of this flawed reality. You need to cling to your concepts and purposes, your feeble honour and glory. None of it serves any purpose in the end. And the end draws close." - Krodalis Thaendil.

"It really is amazing; she killed Kelan Wealer, not that I am complaining, but then the order welcomed her as their new leader. It makes one wonder if I were to ram a blade down her throat, would the monks then follow my commands?" - Mordain Thaendil.

One of the Last Guardians. Suck it.
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Ariakas
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Grobtak spun around and looked around. The girl did not make a sound, she had the same crazed look in her eyes as when Grobtak had begun his little play with her. He took the sword from where it was standing against the wall and drew it.

He looked around the room once more, slowly taking steps so he could look through the door. There was nothing there, but he felt like there was something, looking at him.

When he heard the whisper from the bookcase he turned sharply around. He studied the bookcase intently as he mumbled, "What is this?"
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chadden
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High Advisor to the Archmage
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
The voice remained silent. Its power filled the room and, in responce, a number of runes flared with magical light on the wall behind the bookcase.

There was a door there.
"Stand against me if you must, for of course you will. Conflict is just another part of this flawed reality. You need to cling to your concepts and purposes, your feeble honour and glory. None of it serves any purpose in the end. And the end draws close." - Krodalis Thaendil.

"It really is amazing; she killed Kelan Wealer, not that I am complaining, but then the order welcomed her as their new leader. It makes one wonder if I were to ram a blade down her throat, would the monks then follow my commands?" - Mordain Thaendil.

One of the Last Guardians. Suck it.
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Ariakas
Unregistered

Grobtak looked around, first towards the door and then towards the girl. He should have made someone search the room so he had know about something like this before. Then again, maybe it was something shiny.

He did not sheath his sword, but placed his shoulder against the side of the bookcase and pushed it away.
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chadden
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High Advisor to the Archmage
[ *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  * ]
The door behind was given form only by the series of magical runes that were now glowing. Without the runes, there would be nothing to be seen.

The door was small, only just large enough for Grobtak to enter through. As the man moved the bookcase, the door opened to reveal a tunnel that descended into darkness.

"Power... Follow..." whispered the voice, moving down the tunnel.
"Stand against me if you must, for of course you will. Conflict is just another part of this flawed reality. You need to cling to your concepts and purposes, your feeble honour and glory. None of it serves any purpose in the end. And the end draws close." - Krodalis Thaendil.

"It really is amazing; she killed Kelan Wealer, not that I am complaining, but then the order welcomed her as their new leader. It makes one wonder if I were to ram a blade down her throat, would the monks then follow my commands?" - Mordain Thaendil.

One of the Last Guardians. Suck it.
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Ariakas
Unregistered

Grobtak was an intelligent individual, despite his personal cravings. At any other day he thought he would have turned around and brought someone else to search the dark, and foreboding, tunnel before him.

But not this day. It was like there was tiny feeling, some kind of voice, that told him that this was the thing he needed to do. He was supposed to do.

So, even without thinking of bringing a torch, Grobtak slowly entered the dark hole and descended into the tunnel.
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