A Land in Shadow

by Daniel Whitman

“Well, I suppose a proper introduction wouldn’t hurt,” he said, clearing his throat. “Name’s Kraalek.” Giving a cheeky smirk, he bent down in another exaggerated bow. “Or General Kraalek Cardmaster, for the sake of our good man Osann’s formalities.”

  SmibSmob gaped at Kraalek, his mind racing in a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions.

  General! If this Osann was only a Captain …

  He did not want to finish the thought.

  His knees grew weak, and his hands felt sweaty and dull. Shakily, he returned his large, pointed hat to his head, and began to slowly make his way over to Nalgene and the others.

  “Kraalek, eh?” Nalgene growled mockingly. “Funky name, ye got there. Ye best hope people be rememberin' it when yer —”

  “Wait Nalgene!” SmibSmob cried, a clear tone of desperation in his voice. Fighting them would be suicide. “Don’t … just wait!”

  Kraalek laughed. “Yes, Nalgene, is it? Do listen to the little fellow.” He raised an eyebrow, and a faint, dangerous shimmer burned deep within his eyes. “Trust me, don’t try it. Unless, perhaps, you’re feeling a little lucky today.”

  With that, Kraalek gracefully leaped into the air, and turned away from the others, his crimson robe flowing about like a scarlet flower. The shining deck of metallic cards appeared in his hands again, and he started to skip off to the great, ruined city.

  “Night is falling, so Osann will lead all of you to his camp in the city,” he called back to them in his charming voice. “There, we can talk further.” He paused and turned his head to glance at the stunned Captain. “Oh, and Osann, I can assure you that they’re not Shadowfriends. Isn’t that right?”

  Giving the Captain a crooked smirk, he turned back around, and continued skipping towards the fallen city, chuckling to himself softly.

  SmibSmob stared, a mask of confusion upon his face.

  What’s with this guy, this Kraalek? Definitely no amateur. He’s up to something.

  Nalgene stood dumbfounded, his tantalizing vortex of water disappearing in the air. Behind him Fasto continued to stand ready, the razor arrow still nocked in his smooth, white bow. Margaret snorted in amusement, and the icy storm vanished. Captain Osann turned to them, just as bewildered as the rest. Clearing his throat, he thrust his sword into the cold ground, and slowly walked over to help Ro back to his feet.

  Nalgene jumped, breaking free from shock’s iron grasp. “Eh, wha’d’ye think yer doin', Osann?” he snarled, his hands raising once more.

  The Captain paused, his hand reaching out to lift Ro to his feet.

  “General’s orders,” he said dryly before hauling Ro up with tremendous strength and lending him his shoulder to rest on.

  Ro’s eyes blinked open slowly, a filmy haze settling over them.

  “Ah, what in the bloody dwarf’s hairy arse is goin' on,” Nalgene grunted to himself, throwing his hands down in anger. Frustrated, he stomped over to the dazed Ro, and placed his rough hands upon the draconian’s chest, releasing a shimmering pool of warm water over Ro’s battered form. “Durned dragon,” he grumbled.

  Shaking himself back to his senses, SmibSmob rushed over to Andromeda, who was still lying unconscious on the ground. Frantically, with the memories of Captain Osann’s sword slashing wildly across her back still fresh in the gnome’s mind, he turned her over to gaze upon the wound, a well of despair rising in his mind. Looking upon the alluring feline’s delicate back, he fell back in surprise. There was nothing. No fatal slash, only a large, blistering scorch mark was visible where the sword's fearsome flames caressed her back in their molten embrace.

  Vaguely, he thought he remembered Nalgene saying something about the flat of the mighty greatsword, but he discarded the thought as soon as it came.

  Quite puzzled, SmibSmob glanced up to find his brother. He always seemed to know what to do. Nalgene stormed towards him, followed closely by Ro, who had a swirl of concern darkening his face in a dark shadow, and Captain Osann, whose eyes churned with an inner turmoil. Bending over Andromeda, Nalgene muttered a stream of curses, and cast his warm, healing water upon the injured woman.

  Andromeda’s eyes shot open, and a quick gasp escaped her lips. Scrambling to her feet, her gaze sliced across the companions, and her face surged with a boiling rage. Her tail lashed back and forth, and she let out menacing growl before starting to fade away into the coming shadows of the night.

  “Wait, Andromeda!” Ro gently called out to her, his voice dripping with anxiety.

  Andromeda paused, her eyes darting about wildly. Captain Osann cautiously moved next to Ro, his hands raised in a sign of peace. Andromeda whipped her head around to face him, snarling fiercely. Their eyes locked; Andromeda’s sharp, feline fires, and the Captain’s deep, brown wells. A flash of confusion, and something else, something deeper, tore across Andromeda’s gaze, breaking her from her frenzy. She reappeared, returning to them from out of the enclosing darkness. Giving the Captain a faint nod, she turned to Nalgene.

  “Much appreciated,” she purred to the gnome, before striding over to stand by Ro.

  SmibSmob glanced around at the others, lost in the winding trail of events. Nalgene, still muttering to himself, now also stood by Ro, and they were both throwing threatening glares at Captain Osann, each for their own reason. Behind SmibSmob, Fasto and Margaret approached, their footsteps making soft thuds on the ground. They too moved to stand about Ro, with Margaret gazing blankly at the others, and Fasto staring awkwardly at the Captain.

  The sun had long since disappeared, and the black shade of night was casting its dark reach across the sky.

  “So, to the camp?” SmibSmob stammered, clearing his throat. “It seems to be getting quite dark, and I’d rather not be out here all night.”

  Nodding, Captain Osann slowly walked over to retrieve his greatsword, which was still thrust into the desolate ground. With barely an effort, he unsheathed the mighty weapon from the clutches of the earth, and let it rest on his burly shoulder. Turning to the others, his eyes shone with a renewed light, and he spoke in his deep, knowing voice.

  “The gnome’s right. Night is casting its black shadow upon the land,” he said. “You may not trust me, but you would do well to follow me into the safety of the fallen city.”

  “Eh, no way I’m followin' yer bloody arse, Osann!” Nalgene fumed, crossing his arms and stomping his foot in protest. “Ye helped us after that durned Kraalek and all, but that don’t be changin' the fact ye still tried to kill us! Claimin’ we be Shadowfriends or somethin', yer bloody mad in the head!”

  Margaret snickered to herself in amusement. “Oh yes, this is going just splendidly. Heading to the great ball of fire, what an idea.”

  Captain Osann seemed taken aback by Nalgene’s outburst, and a hurt expression washed over his once stoic face. “You don’t understand,” he murmured quietly, his eyes swelling with raw, powerful emotion. “My family …”

  “I don’t give a dwarf’s hairy arse about yer durned family!” Nalgene shouted, streams of water starting to swirl around his body in a terrifying dance. “That don’t be changin' the fact that ye —”

  “Nalgene!” Ro roared, stepping forward and clasping the infuriated gnome’s shoulder in an iron grasp. “That’s enough. None of us like it, but we have to trust him. Just this once.”

  “But …”

  “Nalgene, my brother, please just listen to me,” SmibSmob jumped in, walking up to stand beside Nalgene.

  Ro’s right, for once. There’s no hope if we start fighting again.

  “Remember the prison, we can’t fight the undead, this so-called Shadow,” he continued. “Mariah told us to get help, and Captain Osann might just be our help.” Glancing around, he saw the rest of his companions nodding in agreement, except Margaret and Andromeda, who stood in the background, silent.

  “Yes, Fasto listen to flame-woman,” Fasto piped in. “She pretty, and friend, gave Fasto bow and arrow. So Fasto follow her lead.”

  The Captain looked up, int
rigue flickering over his face. “Mariah, you say,” he muttered. “Could it be possible?”

  His rage subdued, Nalgene turned to look at SmibSmob, shame shadowing over his face. “Yer right, me brother. Ye and yer fine noggin',” he mumbled. Turning back to Captain Osann, his voice strengthened. “Yeah, we saw Mariah, even talked to her, if ye’d believe it. Told us to find some Flame 'er somethin'.”

  “It’s true,” Ro added, brandishing his shining greatsword out in his scaled hands. “She gave us these wondrous gifts.”

  SmibSmob nodded, and behind him, Fasto was eagerly doing the same.

  Captain Osann gave the companions a long, scrutinizing stare. “Is it so? Has Mariah really returned?” he wondered. “Then perhaps, there is still hope. The Beacon can still arrive and defeat this eternal abyss that’s covering the land.”

  With a sudden start, he thrust his mighty greatsword back into the ground and bent low onto his knee, his hand crossed over the center of his chest. With renewed energy, he spoke in a deep, powerful voice.

  “Then I, Captain Kirk Osann of the Flame of Ansalon, do pledge myself and swear unto you that I will deliver you safely to the warming hands of the Flame. May the Beacon one day burn bright.”

  SmibSmob thought he saw the Captain giving an uncertain, sideways glance as he made his pledge, but he could not be sure. After a moment’s pause, Captain Osann rose to his feet, a triumphant shine beaming upon his face. Tearing his sword from the dark ground, he lay it back to rest upon his sturdy shoulder.

  “Now, follow me,” he commanded, “into the great Ruins of Calinad.”

  ♦♦♦

  Captain Osann led the companions through the winding streets of the ravaged city, the torch in his hand illuminating the desolation around them. The surrounding city lay in ruin, rubble and debris scattered about the deserted roadways. Rows of shattered buildings flanked the sides of the streets, looming over the companions like a parade of fallen angels. Dust blanketed the once-grand city like a dim sheet of snow, leaving the companions with a sense of loss. SmibSmob gazed around in horror, his thoughts racing.

  Could the Shadow really have caused this much wanton destruction?

  The others shared similar emotions of despair at the fallen city around them — except for Margaret, who appeared disinterested in the destruction around her.

  SmibSmob gazed up to the heavens in an attempt to forget about unsolicited death surrounding him. There were no stars, only an empty blackness. Something else seemed off about the looming night sky, but SmibSmob could not place it.

  The companions continued their grim trek through the devastated city, following Captain Osann’s single torch shining out like a lone warrior against the overbearing clutches of the night. After some time of wandering through the labyrinth of streets they eventually found themselves in a sprawling, open square of the city. Piles of rubble dotted the clearing, and long-dead corpses of fallen trees littered the roadways, burnt and twisted into a horrific parody of life. A massive cathedral lay in ruins at the end of the square. Rising in front of the cathedral’s fallen gates like a defiant soldier stood an elegant, surging fountain forged from the whitest of marble. Pure, blue water still flowed free, falling in cascading waterfalls from the fountain’s graceful boughs. Laying in front of the majestic fountain was a camp consisting of a great number of bedrolls, supplies, and a burning fire.

  Atop the white lip of the fountain sat Kraalek, effortlessly riffling his metallic cards through his nimble fingers. Noticing the companions’ arrival, the General glanced up and gave them a crooked smile.

  “So, what do you think?” he said exuberantly, throwing his arms out wide and gesturing to the destruction around them. “Ah, it’s a pity, really. Anyway, I’m sure you tied up any loose ends with Osann, isn’t that right?”

  Not waiting for their response, he jumped off the edge of the flowing fountain, landing softly on his feet. “Come, gather around, for we have much to discuss.”

  “Eh, do we now?” Nalgene started, an agitated tone in his gruff voice. “Do ye think ye can just pull us around like —”

  “Nalgene!” Ro interrupted; his voice harsh.

  Kraalek laughed.

  “Oh, you do so intrigue me. Come,” he said, throwing them a mischievous wink. “Trust me.”

  Extinguishing his torch, Captain Osann strode toward his camp, laying his sword down by the supplies. The companions followed him, scattering themselves around the burning fire. SmibSmob sat by Nalgene, hoping that his rash brother would not have another outburst. Ro, Fasto, and Margaret all sat together, although Margaret seemed not to notice the other two, her gaze lost in the dancing flames. Andromeda sat alone, studying those around her. Kraalek returned to his perch on the fountain, while Captain Osann stood attentive nearby, uncomfortable at the situation.

  “Now,” Ro started, warily. “What did you want to discuss?”

  “Yes, isn’t that what we’re all wondering,” Margaret shot in, her voice cold and dry.

  SmibSmob observed quietly, his thoughts whirling in a violent storm.

  What would a General want to do with us? He’s a tricky one, that’s for sure.

  “General Kraalek,” Captain Osann said, his voice distant. “They claim to have seen Mariah.”

  The General perked up at this. “Oh, is that so?” He glanced around at the companions, his knowing eyes resting on each of them for a moment. “Pray tell?”

  “Well, Fasto was in spooky forest,” Fasto piped in, his eyes gleaming. “Then pretty fire lady appear and give Fasto bow and arrow. Pretty lady tell Fasto to go east, and tell Fasto to go to fire, so Fasto go there. Now Fasto here, by fire, getting warm.”

  The General gave the orc a long, blank stare. Shaking his head, he chuckled softly to himself. “Indeed. Anyone else?”

  “Well,” SmibSmob started, uncertain what to say. Kraalek’s eyes bored into him with a surprising pressure, and the General raised a thin, intrigued eyebrow. Clearing his throat, SmibSmob continued. “Well … uh … she saved us from an attack from a … er … some undead.”

  Andromeda flinched at this, but SmibSmob pushed on, his voice growing steadier.

  “She then brought us to a forest, where she told us about the Shadow, the Light, and the war they have been waging against each other. Then she gave us our mighty gifts, equipping us with the weapons and armor we would need to survive, before disappearing. We traveled out of that forest and … well, now we’re here.”

  Breathing a faint sigh of relief, he anxiously looked around at his companions. He was uncomfortable and did not want to give too much information to the shady General. His eyes locked with Ro’s, and the draconian gave him a slight, approving nod.

  Kraalek studied SmibSmob, a thoughtful look on his face. Reaching into one of the pouches hanging from his waist, Kraalek pulled out a small, brown die. Rolling it in his frail hand, the General shook his head, giving a soft chuckle, before replacing it back into its respective pouch.

  “And pray tell, my little gnome, what exactly did she tell you?” he asked.

  SmibSmob stuttered, unsure of what to say.

  He’s testing me. This man, he’s good

  Sweat started beading on his forehead, and his small hands grew clammy. Suddenly, in the back of his mind, he felt the persistent itch urging to break free. His power came flooding back into his being, crashing against the standing barriers in his mind with a renewed violence. Caught off guard, SmibSmob’s words caught in his throat, unwilling to escape.

  “She told us of how the Shadow has been casting the land in a darkness,” Ro jumped in, noticing SmibSmob’s obvious discomfort. “She told us of how it has been spreading over this once-great land for over two centuries, and how it has been opening horrible chasms across the land, spreading destruction. She told us of how the Flame … er, the Light … has been fighting back against its overwhelming darkness. And how the Flame, well, that we had to reunite with it and save Ansalon.”

  Kraalek burst int
o a mocking laugh. “Oh, is that so? Now, answer me this, if the Shadow has been covering the land for over two centuries, why would Mariah have had to tell you of it? You should’ve already known of it, isn’t that right?”

  The draconian had no answer.

  Kraalek gave another, mocking chuckle. “And you’re going to save Ansalon? Right. And I’m going to fly away on a fiery dragon. Pray tell, have you ever heard of the Beacon?”

  SmibSmob stiffened, and his heart thundered in his chest. His mind was thrown back to the fateful day in the prison. The dreadknight, the mortal slash freezing over his chest. He remembered the tantalizing woman, her revealing dress fanning out like the flaming wing of a butterfly, and her soft, alluring voice coursing like a river through his mind, telling him of how he was the Beacon, and how he had to drive back the black legions of Shadow. The other companions were similarly taken aback by the question, even Margaret. Captain Osann gave the General a dangerous, uncomfortable look, but said nothing.

  Kraalek shook his head, a crooked smirk forming on his lips.

  “Interesting,” he started slyly, the fire beneath him giving his face an eerie glow in the darkness of night. “Listen and listen close. Why you do not already know this, I may never know. You were correct, the Shadow has been holding Ansalon in its dark clutches for over two centuries. Stories say that it began after a group of companions fighting side-by-side with Mariah and the legendary Last Smiter, Sergarious, challenged the Goddess. While it is not known what happened during that battle, the aftermath was certain. Sergarious, along with the mighty companions, vanished. Enraged from their betrayal, the Goddess cast the Shadow over the land, sending a wave of darkness and despair crashing over Ansalon. We can only imagine why the Goddess did such a thing, as these lands were her source of pride, but countless were slaughtered in the darkness. Mariah, who had escaped from the fateful battle, rallied the remaining living from across the lands under the banner of the Flame, and pushed back against the Shadow. But it was to no use — the Shadow swept us away. We … I … lost so much …”