“I’ll have a mug of Bolinsky Ale, please,” Baltor said, while returning the smile.
Trendon pointed two fingers up in the air, before saying, “I’ll have the same…thanks.”
“Sure thing,” the woman said, before pivoting around quickly to get their drinks. Periodically, her eyes darted back to admire both men.
Leaning forward in his seat, Baltor said in a low volume of voice, “So, master…I can’t say I learned a lot about you in hell. Why don’t you tell me about your history?”
Speaking at a normal volume, Trendon answered right away, “My pleasure…let me begin by saying that unlike your parents who were middle class, mine were royalty, and I was born in wealth and inside a fortified castle.
“My father’s name and noble-title was Baron Viktor Harrn, and my mother’s name and title was Baroness Alexandra…both parents justly ruled over a thousand square miles of both land and sea, which nation contained eight thriving cities and dozens more smaller towns! Because my mother lost her childbearing capabilities two years after my birth when my younger sister Ruth was born, she remained my only sibling.”
He was interrupted him from his tale when the barmaid returned, setting two quart-sized mugs of foaming ale onto the table—she still bore that ear-to-ear smile on her pretty little face. Sounding as sweet as pie, she asked, “Is there anything else I can get either of you handsome men?”
“No thank you, my lady,” Trendon was the first to answer with a little smile. Baltor simply shook his head.
After a quick nod, she said neutrally in the next, “Well…holler over if you need anything, and just so you know, we do have menus and daily food specials—I’ll be right over there behind the bar.” She pointed to the far end of the bar, where sat two empty barstools.
“Thank you,” Baltor said with an appreciative nod.
Shortly after both men had taken a nice pull, Trendon stated, “During my early years of youth, my mother often told me that I was the spitting image of my father without the beard, especially in my lordly mannerisms. She found it adorable whenever I paced around with my little hands clasped behind my little back, like my father so often did. He was my hero for most of my childhood.”
Baltor smiled, just before he took another long drink.
Trendon did not smile or drink, but continued on, “Like most heirs to the throne, my sister and I had a unique daily schedule we had to strictly abide by—different from each other. Beginning at six in the morning every morning, my very own training instructor and weapons master, Lord Rugs, would wake me up, always politely. Following an hour-long workout, in which he worked out with me every day, he would train me in all sorts of weapons, yet most particularly, the sword—I became an excellent fighter and could quickly disarm most others of their weapons. Still, rare was the time that I could disarm Lord Rugs…”
It was at this point that Trendon took a nice drink—after swallowing, he pointed his index finger into the air and said, “Once training was over, typically at eight-thirty, I had to shower, get dressed and be in the dining hall by nine…for breakfast with my family. Breakfast usually lasted between thirty minutes and an hour, as my parents loved to talk between eating. Following that, my sister and I had a special private teacher named Lady Gamen. She instructed us in all our academic education needs…needful to say, my sister and I have always been quick learners.
“Following school came lunch, which oftentimes had senior-ranking officers, and/or ambassadors, and/or royalty from other nations. If that lunch was just with family, my sister and I were next given a two hour-long class by my father, who taught us both how to think, utilizing morality, justice, strategy and order—just as quickly as everything else did we become excellent leaders. If father didn’t teach us, Lady Gamen did. Following school, my sister and I spent the next couple of hours playing until dinner.”
After releasing a single chuckle, Trendon’s eyes lit up like stars as he said with pride, “Shortly before I had turned sixteen, my parents both felt I had shown my qualities…so that very night of my birthday party in front of everyone, I was promoted via an elaborate ceremony to ‘Lord-Knight.’ This party had more than a quarter of a million people in attendance…the city was packed with citizens and foreigners from all parts of the continent.”
Trendon chuckled a few times, before saying, “My father enthusiastically declared to everyone that upon his demise, whenever that time came, I would be appointed the next ‘Baron of Harrnsforte.’ Harrnsforte—for informational purposes—was the name of our Capital City as well our Nation. Neither he nor I could foresee what the nearby future held in store for me!
“For, six months and eight mornings later, the day inevitably came when father asked me, during the course of family breakfast, to go to the Library of Harrnsforte, and retrieve a book, The Sieges of War. Before I had the chance to go, he immediately began to brief me, at length, that this particular book dealt with some of the best military strategies that I was only now ready to learn. Of course, I agreed. After tethering my stallion near the front door of the library almost an hour later, a librarian standing at the entrance greeted me pleasantly, by my name and rank—he asked me if I wanted assistance finding a book. I thanked him, but declined.”
He took another small drink, before saying, “While randomly scanning amongst the hundreds of alphabetized shelves located in the library for the book, my eyes happened to scan a particular book sitting upon the ‘N shelf’—an ancient-but-immaculate blue book, which glinted the two silvery words, Natural Magic.
“Curious, I pulled this book off the shelf, located the other book my father wanted me to read, and took both books back home—because I was royalty, I didn’t have to check them out of the library like everyone else.
“After getting back home, I henceforth went into my room, closed the door, sat on my bed, and began to read Natural Magic. I quickly discovered that it contained about a half-dozen cantrip spells, which all dealt with utilizing a series of related natural elements like herbs, stones, crystals, etc., and then combining them with the proper series of words and symbols—when performed correctly, the spell succeeds…
“Four nights later, after I had procured all the necessary items to create a ‘flaming finger spell,’ I cast the spell—to my dismay, a foot-long flame shot forth from the tip of my right index finger and lasted for about ten seconds!
“When I demonstrated this spell successfully to my father and mother the following morning, instead of them becoming joyous as I had anticipated, my parents became ‘furious!’ Immediately my father used his belt to whip me into a black-and-blue color. Besides the beating, not only did he ground me for an entire month, yet he burned the book in front of my tear-filled eyes!”
After taking another hearty drink, Trendon said, “Despite his severe punishment and warnings, I knew that magic, and not royalty, was going to be my way of life. So in secret, I continued to study other similar books from the library for two more years but learned next-to-nothing; that is, until the day came when Fate threw her hands into the mix…
“While I was patrolling with a dozen of my soldiers through the bazaar, we rode by a parked wagon that had an attached canopy, parked on the outskirts of this bazaar. Three large metallic tables had been laid out underneath the canopy—side by side—these tables contained hundreds of tiny ceramic pots, in which each pot had a different type of plant or flower.
“Furthermore, someone had tied a red hemp rope between all the posts of the canopy at waist-level, in order to keep people from entering, in which there were a ton of kids and even a few adults hanging outside the canopy and watching some sort of entertaining show, evident by the frequent cheering and applause going on. I only understood the reason for all the applause once we had drawn close. Standing in between the ropes and the table was an old man who wore monk-brown robes—like a pro, he was juggling six glowing magical orbs in between both hands! My men and I were awestruck as we watched from on top of our horses at the sideli
nes until he had finished his act, a half-minute after our arrival, which climactic conclusion involved shooting those orbs at six different pumpkins he had laid out about forty feet away…each orb blasted each pumpkin to smithereens!”
After taking a deep breath, slowly releasing it, and taking another deep breath, he added, “I had no doubt that this man was a wizard, and this was the man I must to talk to…alone. Therefore, I ordered my lieutenant to take command of the squad and finish the patrol—without question, he did as I ordered. After they were gone, I tethered my horse at a nearby bar. By the time I had returned to the canopy to find the wizard, most of the crowds had dispersed as the show was over, and the wizard had opened up the hemp gates. With only a few remaining people under the canopy that were gazing at the plants as the wizard watered them. I boldly walked up to him and revealed my identity, history, and the fact that I could cast a few minor cantrips…all in about ten minutes time.”
After taking another small sip, Trendon added, “Looking skeptical, he asked me to demonstrate a cantrip of my choosing, and so, I clutched a tight hold of my tiny onyx crystal in my right pocket with my right hand, closed my eyes and focused my mind for about thirty seconds on the only illusion-cantrip I had learned. On the thirty-first second, everything above my neckline looked identical to the wizard—very wrinkled face, sky blue eyes, silver hair, everything. I opened my eyes, only to notice that his mouth had dropped open in shock to see a warrior like me casting a cantrip. Once the illusion had faded, about thirty seconds later, he asked me if I would become his apprentice and travel with him from town-to-town. I agreed without hesitation.”
Just then, the beautiful barmaid had come back, still with a sweet smile on her face. She asked, “Are you men ready for another round?”
“Yes, mam,” Trendon answered without even looking at his mug to see how full it was. “Please…”
“Make that two,” Baltor added.
“Sure thing, handsome,” she said with a wink.
Trendon asked, “Am I boring you yet, or would you like to hear more about my history?”
Breathing out a light laugh, Baltor answered, “I want to hear more…”
Trendon cleared his throat twice before continuing to say, “Okay…well, without telling my parents, I disappeared off into the night with my master. For the next seven years, I trained under his direct tutelage learning a ton of spells, while traveling from town to town. On the eighth year, my master and I happened to be traveling through some jagged, snow-capped mountains that surrounded some lush, fertile valleys, and he had left me in charge to make camp while he scoured around for new plants.”
A sour expression crossed his face, as he stated, “Unfortunate for him, a black dragon¸ Dreeak’s mother, as a matter of fact, happened to fly by around noontime and spot what she thought would make a quick-and-easy lunch. She was wrong! Although a fierce battle immediately waged between the two opponents on all levels: In the end, three days and nights later, the dragon won. I watched invisible from the sidelines, shocked and horrified, as she ate my master like he was a piece of jerky before spitting out only his robes and boots and then flying away…I grieved for three days.”
Moments later, his facial expression turned from sorrow to neutral before he stated, “After donning his robes and taking his wagon southwest toward my hometown of Harrnsforte, I soon after came to discover a little interior pocket located inside the robes, containing a platinum necklace with an attached magical emerald amulet. Never before had I ever heard or seen this necklace or emerald…”
Trendon gave a few seconds for Baltor digest this information, before he continued, “Once back at my hometown, nearly seven months later, I posted job ads just about everywhere for anyone requesting the services of magic users, which was a semi-rare—but not unheard of—type of profession in my world. Oh, by the way, my world is altogether different from yours…dwarves, goblins, trolls, magic, dragons, vampires, etc., and all those other type of mythical creatures and unproven concepts on this world are considered norm and proven on mine…ahhh, great! Our lovely bartender is back with our drinks…excellent.”
Sure enough, the barmaid was back, carrying two overflowing mugs of ale. Upon setting them down and noticing that neither of these men had yet finished their first mug, she then headed on over to appease her other regular customers.
Only once she was out of earshot did Trendon reveal, “Several days after my arrival, a meeting was arranged in the bar of an inn between an elf captain and me. Once I had proven my magical abilities to him in the alleyway behind the bar by creating a fireball that slammed into the ground and created a ten-foot deep hole, he forthwith requested that I accompany their large convoy to the elfish city of V’asana. This city existed fifteen hundred miles to the southeast of Harrnsforte, on the furthest southeastern corner of the continent…at least a two-year journey.”
After another short pause without interruption, Trendon continued, “The captain informed me that the one-and-only reason they were looking for a magic user at all was because their own elf mage had been killed three days before, as well two dozen of their elf soldiers…in an ambushed attack by an entire division of goblins.”
He was about to continue with his story, but the musician unexpectedly played the final note of his song, nodded his head, and said just above the din of the crowd, “Thank you, thank you…”
In the next moment, the patrons and the barmaid all began to applaud and cheer with a whole lot of enthusiasm—of course, Baltor and Trendon clapped their hands a half-dozen times, because the musician had played well.
Once the clapping and applause had abated, the musician stated with a warm smile and a wave of the hand, “Thanks again…I’m going to take a fifteen minute break, but I will be back.”
Without haste, he set the flute down on the stand, rose to his feet, walked on over toward the other side of the bar, and sat down in the stool next to the barmaid. The two then began to talk quietly.
Meanwhile, Trendon muttered, “Goblins are oftentimes the slave-soldiers of dark gnomes—and both species are very evil, subterraneous creatures that are enemies even unto their own families, except when they are united under a single cause of an even more powerful evil race, which is a very rare but not unheard of.
“Fortunately for you, those few dark gnomes that escaped into the deepest recesses of the earth after ‘The Gnome Wars’ ended were only sterile clones. Otherwise your world would have had another epidemic that could have reached cataclysmic proportions.”
“True,” Baltor said with a nod.
Trendon took a lengthy pause at this point, so that he could drink the last of his first mug and set the empty near the edge of the table.
It was then that Baltor looked down at his own mug, noting that it was still a quarter full—he therefore picked it up, finished it off, and set his empty next to the other empty cup, and called out to the barmaid, “Two more rounds, please!”
“Sure thing,” she replied, just before heading behind the bar to fill two more mugs.
Meanwhile, Trendon continued with his history, “The captain informed me that my ‘top-secret mission’ would be to assist the convoy in protecting a horse-drawn wagon. When I asked what the wagon was carrying, he stated that it was ‘top secret’ information.
“Therefore, my immediate asking price became fifty thousand gold pieces, in which he agreed to pay, so long as I asked no questions about the cargo.”
It was then that the barmaid returned, and set down the two full mugs in front of the men and took the two empties. With a wink, she asked, “Do you gentlemen want any food yet?”
“No thank you,” Baltor replied. “We’re all right.”
“Right,” Trendon agreed.
“No problem,” she stated, before heading back behind the bar.
Only a moment or so later, Trendon continued to reveal, “I agreed when he handed me the money the following day—a few hours later, we were already leaving Harrnsforte. Not too
surprisingly, only three nights later, the platoon of elves and I—fifty-four of us to be exact—were ambushed by a thousand dark gnomes!”
After taking a drink, he stated, “Though I fought my absolute best, and killed dozens of them with both might and magic, all my elf comrades were fast overwhelmed and killed—the captain was the last to die, honorably, in a blaze of glory.
“It became overwhelmingly clear to me that the dark gnomes were here to confiscate the ‘top secret cargo,’ which sat inside the wagon I stood on top of by the end of the battle. Dark gnomes, most of them male, already surrounded me. In fact, there was only one female in their midst, in which she revealed she was a high priestess of the goddess of scorpions, Ssssamoma. I attempted to peacefully negotiate with her to let me go, in exchange that I wouldn’t blow up myself up and the precious cargo and hundreds of them dark gnomes—she agreed. However, I was deceived and knocked unconscious from behind!”
Instead of continuing with his story, Trendon snapped his fingers, which caused Time to stop instantly—everyone but the two men was frozen in place.
When Baltor looked confused, Trendon explained, “The patrons and the bartender had just begun to listen to our conversation…now they are not.”
After clearing his throat, he added, “Back to my story…after the High Priestess had tortured me mercilessly over and over again until she got bored with the torture, she pulled out a ruptured claw from a glass jar and injected it hard into my abdomen…a vompareus claw. That was when I first became, struggling between my human half and my vampiric half…and surviving underground for many years to come.”
At this point, Baltor took his first swig from his latest mug of ale. Meanwhile, Trendon continued, “That is, until I learned how to magically create the Rod of Ro’shain, which rod allowed me to teleport wherever I wanted. This same object later allowed me to discover/teleport to the Realm of Darkness, where most of fellow vampire-beast-lords resided, coming and going at whim. It was shortly after my arrival and had gained their trust that I learned that they were in the process of preparing for an all-out-war with the Arch-Devils, a war the Vompareus really believed they could win.”
The War of All Wars Page 28
