by Adam Watson
Aiden charged out of the bush, screaming. The tree branch was raised, ready for an overhead chop, he smashed it over the back of Ooh’lag’s head. Ooh’lag shook his head stunned and lashed back with an almighty backhand. Aiden went flying, when he landed on the ground, he immediately went into a back-roll, coming back up to his feet. Then, seeing Ooh’lag charging straight at him, he fled the scene.
Aiden ran through the dense forest like a man possessed, ducking and weaving through branches, jumping logs and even diving through gaps not big enough to run through. Meanwhile, Ooh’lag ran through the growth like an unstoppable juggernaut; the branches smashed around him. The log Aiden jumped over, was kicked to the side like a child’s ball … and as for the gap Aiden had dived through - it meant nothing to Ooh’lag, he made his own gaps.
Aiden burst out of the undergrowth and suddenly realised that he had reached the end of the forest. He now found himself in a large grassland with no cover. He looked behind himself to see if he could get back into the forest, but all he saw was Ooh’lag smashing his way out with bits of shrubbery and bush hanging off of him. Aiden looked back in front, but before he could decide where he was going to run, he slipped on a mushroom. His legs flew up from beneath him, and he landed on his back with a loud THUD!
Before Aiden could get up, he was stomped into the muddy ground by Ooh’lag’s huge right foot. The troll leant down, grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the ground again; splashing mud in all directions.
Magmus appeared at the edge of the forest with a large rock in his hand.
“HEY OOH’LAG!” he shouted, and hurled the rock. Ooh’lag turned around and the rock bounced off his head. Magmus searched the ground for another rock. He looked back to Ooh’lag who was already in the process of heaving a small boulder at him. Magmus had no time to react as the boulder came hurtling towards him. He caught the boulder in his chest, knocking the wind out of him; the weight and momentum slammed him to the ground, pinning him down.
That distraction wasn’t much, but it had given Aiden enough time to stagger to his feet, and even though he was battered, he knew he had to get the troll’s attention off of Magmus.
“HEY!” he shouted, and the troll turned around. “IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?” Ooh’lag charged. He came in throwing wild swings, Aiden ducked and weaved his way inside the troll’s defence delivering hard punches to the head - which only served to irritate the troll more.
Aiden was the better fighter, but Ooh’lag was much stronger and managed to connect with another wild swing that sent Aiden falling to the ground. The troll bent down and picked Aiden up by the throat; holding him in the air, strangling the life out of him. Aiden struggled as hard as he could to break free, punching and kicking, but Ooh’lag was too strong.
“You die now, Ooh’lag kill human!” the troll said in his deep, guttural voice. Aiden could feel the air being cut off from his body; he gasped desperately, if he didn’t get free soon he would die. He pounded on the troll’s head, every punch weaker and weaker. He could feel the strength leaving his body and the darkness enclosing his mind. This is it, he thought. This is the end. Then … like a miracle … the first rays of sunlight appeared over the horizon. They soared across the land, lighting up the countryside and everything in it.
There was a good reason that trolls were nocturnal and avoided the sun’s rays like the plague. They hit Ooh’lag’s body like a gorgon’s gaze, petrifying him to the spot. The troll trembled, steam poured off his body, and he shuddered violently as his flesh turned to stone. The grip around Aiden’s neck loosened just enough to allow him to free himself; he dropped to the ground gasping. Once he had recovered he slowly staggered over to Magmus and rolled the boulder off of him - Magmus yelled out in pain as he did.
“Are you all right?” asked Aiden.
“Apart from the fact that I have just had a boulder thrown on top of me and every part of my body hurts, I’ve never felt better. What about you? That wound on your head looks severe,” said Magmus, pointing to Aiden’s head. Aiden felt the top of his forehead; it was wet.
“I’ve had worse.” Magmus raised one eyebrow in disbelief, Aiden picked up a rock as they both walked over to the ‘Ooh’lag statue’.
“Well, we can’t take that home with us,” said Magmus, pointing to the statue. “We’ll have to break the head off.”
“All right then, watch out,” replied Aiden, lining up the troll’s head, he hurled the rock as hard as he could. The rock hit Ooh’lag’s head and bounced straight back at them, forcing both of them to dive-roll to the side.
“Yes well, that worked!” yelled Magmus, from the ground.
“Hey! It was worth a try magic man, seeing as how we have no sword!”
“Just because we don’t have a sword,” reasoned Magmus, as he stood up. “Is no reason to resort to idiocy!”
“Well, do you have a better idea?” Magmus pointed to another thick tree branch.
“Try that,” suggested Magmus. Aiden looked at Magmus, in disbelief.
“Are you serious?” he asked. Magmus shrugged his shoulders.
“It’s worth a try.”
“Well, all right then,” said Aiden doubtfully. He picked up the branch, and even though this one was both thicker and longer than the last one, he still had his doubts that this would work. He lined Ooh’lag’s head up, taking a few practice swings to make sure he was lined up perfectly. Once he was satisfied with his alignment, he brought it back behind his head and gave an almighty swing - the branch hit the head and stopped dead. Aiden slowly lowered the tree branch, trying not to let on that his hands were in pain from the jolting. He then took another almighty swing at the head, with the same result. Magmus looked at Aiden, questionably.
“So, that’s the way you want to play it, is it Ooh’lag?” Aiden muttered under his breath. He was now determined to break the head off at all costs and proceeded to deliver a barrage of blows from all directions; the barrage ended with an almighty overhead chop, one which was so powerful it broke the tree branch, causing half of it to bounce off of Ooh’lag’s head.
Aiden looked at what was left of the branch in his hands. Well, that’s just great. He was so angry that he threw the branch away in disgust, turned around, and punched the Ooh’lag statue straight in the face. Aiden’s fist stopped dead, and the moment it did he turned around and calmly walked into the forest. Magmus looked on, slightly concerned, slightly amused.
A few moments later a loud scream of pain could be heard, it lasted a few seconds and was suddenly cut off. Then a new scream could be heard, a charging scream as Aiden came rushing out of the forest carrying a log so big he could barely hold on to it.
He ran to the Ooh’lag statue using all of his might, slamming the log into Ooh’lag’s head like a battering ram. It snapped off at the neck and went flying into the field; by the time it hit the ground it had turned back to flesh, as had Ooh’lag’s body which was now crumpled on the ground. Aiden dropped the log and fell down, exhausted. Magmus walked over and retrieved the head.
“Well done Aiden, we just completed proclamation forty-seven.”
“Why has it turned back into flesh?” Aiden asked, trying to get his breath back.
“I’m not sure, but I do know that when night falls, the petrification process reverses. Perhaps the magic of petrification requires the troll to be alive in order for it to work, and once dead, the spell is broken.”
“It makes sense,” replied Aiden, eyeing the corpse. “At least, I think it does.” They made their way to Ooh’lag’s headless body, still sore from the battering they had received. When they reached it, Magmus bent down to examine it more closely.
It was hideous. Its skin was green and lumpy and appeared to be covered with moss and large growths. The limbs seemed too long for its body, the back was hunched, the belly was bloated, and drooping flesh hung from its arms - it was all Magmus could do no to retch.
Then there was the smell, it was putrid. Magmus wasn’t sure if
this was due to the overactive sweat glands or the fact that the body seemed to be rotting at an accelerated pace. It was wearing what could only be described as a filthy rag with a pocket. Using a stick, Magmus pried open the pocket and peered in.
“Is there anything in it?” asked Aiden, Magmus shook his head.
“I can’t see anything.”
“Well put your hand in there!” Hesitating, Magmus put his hand in, the slimy feel combined with the overpowering odour made him feel queasy. He felt something hard, so he quickly grabbed it and pulled his hand out - it was a jewelled bracelet.
“It looks valuable, take it!” cried Aiden. “Check the pouch!” Magmus looked down, around the waist of the troll was a rope with a little pouch attached to it. Magmus opened it and peered inside.
“By the gods!” exclaimed Magmus shocked.
“What is it, what’s wrong?” Suddenly Magmus smiled.
“I can’t believe it!” he cried. “There’s a platinum piece in here!”
“Platinum?” asked Aiden. “PLATINUM!!! WE’RE RICH!!!” A platinum piece was worth ten gold. “We’re rich Magmus, rich!” Magmus smiled as the knowledge begun to sink in. “We did it! We killed the troll! We fulfilled the proclamation and we found treasure. We’re heroes and from now on noted troll killers!”
“Yes … you’re right!” replied Magmus “We did do it, even when things got tough we didn’t give up, we stuck together and saw it through, right to the end.” Magmus couldn’t believe it - they had actually succeeded.
***
A week later, Aiden and Magmus were back in the City Hall seated at a desk across from the city clerk. On the table between them and the clerk sat Ooh’lag’s head. The clerk was evaluating the completion of proclamation number forty-seven.
“Good work gentlemen,” he said in a serious tone. “This is indeed the head of the dreaded troll, Ooh’lag. For fulfilling the requirements of proclamation number forty-seven, you are awarded the sum of ten gold pieces, to be split how you will.”
There was a knock at the door and a young man, the clerk’s assistant, walked into the room with the bracelet and money pouch, he put them on the table. He then stood up perfectly straight, and to no one in particular he said in a loud and dramatic voice.
“The city appraiser has valued the bracelet at ten gold pieces. The City Council is willing to buy the bracelet for this price.” The clerk turned to Aiden and Magmus. Magmus looked at Aiden, who was nodding maybe a bit too eagerly.
“Done!”
***
Later that day, Aiden and Magmus were sitting facing each other in the same booth located inside the Lucerne Hammer. A pile of gold coins and one platinum piece lay on the centre of the table, which was also scattered with empty ale mugs.
“How much have we got again?” asked Aiden, not because he didn’t know how much they had, but because he liked hearing how much they had.
“Thirty gold pieces,” whispered Magmus, with a big smile on his face.
“Yeeeeess!” said Aiden in a loud whisper, leaning back and throwing his arms up in triumph.
“That’s fifteen each my friend,” stated Magmus. “In one foul swoop, I have three-quarters of what I need to get into Men’hovens … Three-quarters!” Magmus was still having a hard time grasping how successfully it had turned out. “I was only expecting to make one quarter, and now I have three,” he continued. “One more proclamation ought to do it.” With that comment, Aiden’s mirth faded and he became more serious.
“Magmus, I’ve been thinking about this last proclamation. As far as proclamations go, this was a relatively easy one, but I’m telling you we were lucky. You were stuck under a boulder and the only thing stopping Ooh’lag from killing you was the fact that he was too busy strangling me. If the sun hadn’t come up when it did, we’d both be dead now.” Magmus studied Aiden as he spoke, he knew the words were true. “We’re unprepared and undertrained. We can’t do another proclamation right now, we’d be relying too heavily on luck.” Magmus took a few moments to think on his answer.
“Aiden, you are right. You are free to go, but I, on the other hand, must go on. I need five more gold pieces to get into the academy. I don’t have a choice, it’s the only way I can become a Sorcerer.” Aiden sighed uncomfortably and writhed in his chair, he felt like he was letting Magmus down and he didn’t like it one little bit, but there was another option.
“Magmus, before I met you I never dreamed of holding even one gold piece, now I have fifteen. It’s much more than I have ever had and it’s much more than I need, so I want to give five to you.” Aiden then picked up five gold pieces from his side and moved them to Magmus’s.
“Aiden, I can’t…”
“Take them, they’re yours now. You need them more than I do and besides ten gold pieces is still a fortune to me.” Magmus was touched, and truth be told maybe even a little choked up.
“Aiden, you are a true friend. So, what will you do now?” Aiden looked Magmus right in the eye.
“I’ve been thinking about what you said about dreams and goals. I want to train and become a great warrior … a hero … known throughout the ages or something like that. Anyway, if I am going to do any more proclamations, I need more training, and I think Hammar’s Battle Academy is the place to do it. Now take your gold, go to Men’hovens, learn your magic and become a great Sorcerer. If you ever need anyone to help you in your fight against evil, come and see me.”
“Aiden, if you’ll fight by my side, I would definitely come back for you.”
“I will Magmus, I swear it.” Aiden never broke a promise - ever.
“I won’t forget you, Aiden,” assured Magmus.
“I won’t forget you either, Magmus,” replied Aiden, and they shook hands as if to make an oath, an informal binding of sorts. A binding that wasn’t binding by law or religious pledge, but in the minds of these two young men, these young men of integrity – it may as well have been. They knew they would meet again, one day.
12. THE CREED: THE HUNT BEGINS
Vuko Vlad opened his eyes, they stung, tearful and blurred. He didn’t care about the pain, he was just glad that he was finally awake. He didn't know how long he had been unconscious, but he already knew it was too long. He wanted to stand up, but he couldn't. He could hardly move his head, even opening his eyes was a struggle, and the rest of his body felt as if paralysed.
A minute passed, consciousness continued to come back, though not fully. He felt like he was caught between worlds; his mind was waking up, but his body continued to sleep - he couldn’t even speak.
He knew that he was still in the bath, he could feel the water; lukewarm on his skin. On top of him, Tasia sat; still astride him, still unconscious. She lay back with her arms splayed out on the edge of the tub, her breasts on full display. The fact that there was still some warmth in the water told him that he had been unconscious no more than twenty minutes.
So, the legends are true. He knew that somewhere in that room, someone was watching him. He knew that they wanted to see him struggle, they wanted to see him embarrassed and flustered. They wanted to show him how weak and vulnerable he was, and that is why he had been caught in that position - naked in the bath and halfway through a sex act with his handmaiden. If an enemy walked in right now, they could kill him with ease. If a friend walked in, the embarrassment of being caught in this position or the stigma associated with his handmaiden could ruin him in the eyes of the Drakhar.
He could see her out the corner of his eye, standing just on the edge of his vision. Yes, he knew who this assassin was ... or least what it was. Even when he had performed the ritual one week ago, as shown to him by the High Priestess, Katra Varta, he still wasn’t sure if they even existed … but now she was here, in the room with them, neither friend nor foe. An assassin to be sure, but would she work for him or against him? The legends said they would bring you what you wanted if you could give them what they wanted - she was a Sister of Solace, and she looked human.
She moved through the room with a cat-like grace, both elegant and dangerous, never taking her eyes off of him. On her head, she wore a maroon hood that was adorned with golden trim, her mouth was covered with a veil of the same colour; only her eyes could be seen, and they were beautiful.
On her body, she wore a light body armour of black and gold that protected her upper torso, shoulders, forearms and pelvis. Beneath that was the same maroon and gold fabric. Knee-high black leather boots protected her feet, everything she wore was of the highest quality, the armour carved intricately, the fabric interwoven with complex patterns. The black cloak had a fur neck lining and would cover her body until she walked forward where it would fall back and reveal everything - it behaved unnaturally, to say the least.
Walking towards him, Vuko could feel his heart beginning to race. He wanted to show no fear, but seeing Tasia lying back with her chest exposed to the assassin put him more on edge than the fact that he couldn’t move.
The Sister of Solace continued her approach, when she turned her hand to the side; the long, elegant blade she was holding became apparent. Made of curved platinum and decorated with highly detailed runic gold, it could take a man’s head off with one swing. Vuko was sure she wasn’t here to kill him, but the legends said that sometimes the Sisters would take a life as payment … if she touched Tasia … he struggled violently to move; he wanted to stand up, he wanted his arms to reach out, he wanted his voice to speak.
“You can’t speak,” came a voice from behind him. He had just enough strength to turn his head, but when he did - there was no-one there. He turned his head back and almost jumped out of his skin in fright. Now she was right there, in his face. “Don’t even try,” she whispered. He could see her eyes clearly, and they were even more beautiful up close. The fabric covering her mouth didn’t move when she spoke, and it unnerved him. She stood up before him and spoke again. “Why do you struggle? Why do you fight? You called us here remember? … You do remember that, don’t you? Now you writhe with fear? Be careful what you wish for.” Vuko could only watch and listen as she slowly circled the bath tub. She held the blade carefully between her hands, with one on the hilt and the other pressed against the sharp point.
