by Corey Soreff
The archers stared down at him. One by one they could be seen glancing from his hair, to his crimson armor adorned with dragon teeth, and back to his face. And as realization dawned on each of them, one by one they began to scatter, panicking and running in different directions in an attempt to escape. And one by one, they were confronted by a faster Eucibous, slaying them all without a hint of emotion. The only thought as he struck them down was of his friend, the greatest rogue he had ever known.
“I am sorry, Eucibous. Resurrections must be cleared by the heads of all three orders. I cannot do so without the approval of Darnillus and Sargath who would likely not approve, and even if they did, it would give away my position.” Gurnac notified his disgruntled champion.
“You know, I’m getting a little tired of you hiding in the background while other Gods blame each other for your actions. I respected that you don’t take sides, but not taking responsibility for your decisions seems a cowardly act to me! Perhaps another God could revive my friend should I ally with them!” Eucibous was emotional and did not care that he addressed a God so rudely. Not that he would ever care.
“Regardless of whether you choose to abandon me or not, know that Darnillus and Sargath cannot revive another while their champions still live.” Gurnac always knew he chose a very volatile champion, but now he was beginning to worry about Eucibous spilling his secrets to the other Gods. He wasn’t afraid of their reactions; he just wanted his little game to last longer, especially since it was just getting interesting after all these years.
“Then perhaps I’ll find a God lower in the pantheon that can help more than their masters can!” Eucibous made the threat, though he was not sure as of yet if he would carry it out. He didn’t like dealing with any God.
Gurnac sighed and looked his champion in the eye. “You act as if it is such a bad thing, being dead. It is not like he is rotting in the abyss with Sargath. I claimed Ginin when he passed away, and he watches us speak even now. His only regret is not seeing this war through to the end by your side, but you must realize that like Dalin and the liche, even if Ginin was revived he would be but an infant.”
Eucibous pondered the statement and silently acknowledged Gurnac’s point with a nod.
Gurnac put his hand on his champion’s shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. “Ginin is content with the way he lived, and is glad to have fought beside you. Allow him to rest in peace, and meet him again someday in the afterlife.”
Eucibous bowed his head in silence, knowing the God was right.
The knight sat on his horse, confusion evident on his face. “For what reason do you wish to fight, good dwarf? Have you an issue with the knighthood?”
“Me only issue is that ye look like a strong lad, and I’ve been itchin’ for a good brawl! Yer fancy armor has ranking officer written all over it!” The dwarf returned.
“I apologize, dwarf, but I do not kill for no reason.” The knight bowed from atop his horse, and prepared to continue on his way down the road to Tibinar, where the dwarf had been coming from when they crossed paths.
“Me name ain’t dwarf. Ye can call me Grymm, and no one be askin’ ye to kill. From me understanding, yer honor dictates ye must accept a duel from a challenger!” The dwarf patted his axe. “I be requesting a duel!”
The knight sighed and swung one leg around, hopping off the horse. “It seems you know our code, and indeed, I must accept.” He drew his longsword and pulled a shield off of his back. Sinking into a battle stance with his shield held in front, he was surprised when the dwarf charged him recklessly without warning.
Grymmbeard, however, was not surprised that the knight chose to defend with his shield instead of dodging. Most fools thought they could stop the charge of the short dwarf. He lowered his head as he charged and smashed head on into the knight’s shield, knocking the shield back and up into the air. In that brief moment before the knight could return his shield to the correct position, Grymmbeard removed and tossed one of his gauntlets right at the man’s face, crashing right into his nose. The knight stumbled back a step, but remained alert, though his vision was temporarily blurred from the blow and blood dripped down from his nose. His vision returned to normal a moment later, just as the dwarf's large battleaxe came barreling into his shield, knocking it out of his hands in the confusion. He quickly eyed the shield on the ground and decided it too risky to retrieve. He grasped his longsword with both hands, prepared to fight without his shield.
“You’re pretty good, dwarf.” The knight said. He noted the remarkable set of platemail and wondered if he might be facing a Crimson Blade, for such colored armor was rare in Adanantus.
The dwarf charged again. The knight began to pull back for a swing, and realized all too late the dwarf was not attacking with his axe. Before he could react with his sword, the dwarf plowed right into him, wrapping his arms and legs around his body and holding him tight. As he struggled to free himself, Grymmbeard brought his head up, then straight back down, smashing his forehead into the knight’s injured nose. Grymmbeard was said to be hard headed for more than one reason. The literal interpretation displayed itself in this moment, for the knight was unconscious.
Grymmbeard rose to his feet and began walking away, shaking his head in disappointment and wiping the knight’s blood off his forehead. “Bah! How am I to practice for the tournament when I can’t even find a good fight? I wonder if Euc left any of those filthy elves for me!” He continued on his way to Tibinar for The Crimson Blade’s monthly meeting, hoping they might have a good job lined up, and stopping periodically to fight anyone who carried a weapon. Little did he know he was en route to his comrade’s funeral.
Chapter Six
Mourning
Eucibous and the rest of the Crimson Blade were kneeling with their heads bowed, surrounding the coffin of their friend and comrade. Eucibous had eventually summoned a portal of transportation to take the bodies of his friend and the knight to the town of Tibinar. Tibinar was the home of the Crimson Blade. This was where the members meet, share news, and accept jobs from those who seek them out. They were currently in the garden of their impressive guild hall.
Grymmbeard grunted in frustration. “Unbelievable! He was a young lad, and a dangerous one! I thought meself would pass afore he. I would have liked to wrap me hands around that skinny elf’s throat!”
Jarec nodded. “Rest in peace, brother. See you in the next life.”
Lok kneeled silently, no words coming to mind, only thoughts. Lok was the first to join Eucibous and form the Crimson Blade. Ginin was the second; therefore Lok had spent more time with Ginin than the others, aside from Eucibous.
Eucibous rose to his feet and looked down at the coffin. “Ginin, I chose you for a reason. You were the most skilled rogue on Adanantus, and the most feared. But you were also a man of heart, caring for your comrades more than yourself. You may be temporarily separated from the rest of us…but know you will always be a Blade. We shall reunite in the afterlife.”
Eucibous then did something very unusual, for him at least. He prayed. “Gurnac, take care of him.”
As if in answer, a strong wind briefly struck the gathering.
“You pathetic failure!” Sargath’s voice boomed throughout the halls of his palace in the abyss.
Kol’thakal dropped to the ground in homage. Immediately upon his death, his soul had been taken and thrown into the Netherworld. He was Herreleck’s champion, but everything he did was under orders from Sargath himself. Herreleck was just a tool to make another of his assets stronger, since he could only have one champion.
“I am sorry my Lord, he was stronger than anticipated.” Kol’thakal apologized to his God, secretly hating the deity but knowing he could no nothing. All he could do was hope his afterlife wasn’t too horrible.
Sargath raised his hand and a purple bolt of lightning struck Kol’thakal's soul, hurling him to the ground in pain. You could only die once, but Sargath could make sure you felt much pain, even without a s
olid form. “Your apology does nothing for me! You and your army were an asset I cannot easily afford to lose! You went behind my back and sought to fight the strongest man on Darnesia alone without my consent. You should know who the only person capable of defeating that man is!”
The former King’s lip curled in anger, but only briefly. He could not afford to anger his God any further. “Of course. I should have been more cautious.”
Without another word, Sargath waved his hand at the drow’s soul, transporting it elsewhere for an eternity of misery. Failure was not tolerated in the forces of darkness.
Kuldric woke with a start, sitting up on an unfamiliar bed in an unfamiliar room. Looking around, he noticed the room was full of expensive furniture. What happened? Perhaps I was brought back to Darnath…
The knight stood, wincing in pain as the wounds covering his body lit his body on fire in horrible pain. He spoke a prayer to his God, and laid his hands upon his own chest. A yellow light briefly flashed over his body, easing the pain. He noticed he was no longer wearing his armor, and saw it nearby in a corner of the room. He began equipping his armor, not knowing what to be ready for, or where he was. He also had his hammer, which further added to his belief that he was home. He finished and walked out the door to the room, not knowing what he would find.
Kuldric entered a long hallway, decorated with the finest paintings and weapons imaginable upon the walls. Impressive weapons that some knights would save their gold for to purchase and use in combat simply hung on the wall as eye candy. Walking down the hall, he could just barely hear some voices coming from the other end. Making his way over there, he went through the last door and emerged into a grand garden of a King’s quality. Plants and flowers he had never heard of or seen were growing all around the large room. Four figures huddled around a coffin in the center.
Squinting to get a better view of the figures, he could not hold back his gasp of surprise as his gaze rested on Eucibous. He noted the dark crimson hair, the splendid armor adorned with dragon teeth, and the blade that no normal man could carry, let alone wield. That must be him! Confused thoughts raced throughout his mind, trying to put this mess together. Last he could remember, he was fighting the drow King. How had he ended up a captive of the Crimson Blade? As these questions bombarded his mind, he noticed Eucibous turn around and glance his way.
“So you’re awake.” Eucibous said without emotion.
Kuldric tensed, not knowing what to expect, and his hand gripped the hammer on his back in preparation for a fight.
“Don’t worry, nobody is going to hurt you, knight.” Eucibous told him.
A dwarf nearby laughed. “What are ye afraid of lad? Euc here saved yer life, don’t ye forget it.”
Kuldric didn’t know what to think. He had been raised his entire life with stories of this man presenting him in an evil light. Yet it seemed the same man he was raised to kill had saved him. He wondered if this was some sort of trap, or a dream. “Sir, are you the crimson warrior, Eucibous Dan’anti?”
Eucibous nodded. “The one and only. I’m sure you’ve been told a lot about me. I know who you are, Kuldric. I know who you really are.”
Kuldric had always wondered about his parents, and why his superiors would always avoid the subject. “What do you mean?” He managed to stutter.
Eucibous motioned for Kuldric to follow him, and they exited the garden. Returning to the hallway from before, Kuldric was led into one of the rooms along the vast corridor. Motioning Kuldric to take a seat in one of the available chairs, Eucibous sat as well.
“From what I understand, those that know the truth about you have been forbidden to speak of it.” Eucibous said calmly.
If curiosity could kill a cat, then the amount of curiosity within Kuldric at this moment could slay a dragon. Kuldric was lost in the gaze of Eucibous, staring within those blood red eyes as he waited to hear what he had spent his life trying to learn. No words found his lips.
“You have heard of Dalin Kilindar?” Eucibous asked.
Kuldric managed a nod. “Of…of course. He is a legend among my people…was he my father?” Excitement struck Kuldric like a blow from a minotaur. I might be the son of a hero!
Eucibous smirked. “Father? Not quite. You ARE Dalin.”
The room spun around Kuldric as his mind tried to piece together this confusing information that had been relayed to him. Ridiculous…this must be a trick.
“Darnillus will be upset I told you, but then again, I don’t really care. You were killed by me long ago, as I am sure you have heard. Sorry about that, but you did break my dead father’s sword. Having wiped out both Darnillus and Sargath’s champions within a matter of weeks, it seems the Gods decided to resurrect their best fighters to dispose of me. I guess they don’t like that I decide to fight every strong warrior they recruit.” Eucibous said with a laugh.
Whether or not Eucibous was telling the truth didn’t matter as much to Kuldric anymore as did his fate. “Are you going to kill me?”
Eucibous stared Kuldric into the eyes. “No. I’ve been waiting a long time for you to grow. The Gods hoped to hide you from me until you were old enough, but the truth is, I’ve known about you since you were brought back. I could have stormed the palace and killed you at any time. But where’s the fun in that?”
“So you wished for me to get strong, and then kill me in my prime.” Kuldric concluded.
Eucibous shrugged. “Well that depends on you. I don’t kill worthy warriors without reason. I told that to the drow scum you were fighting, as well.”
At the mention of the drow, Kuldric noticed Eucibous clench his fists tight, and battle emotions within. “What….happened there? The drow army still marches?”
Eucibous shook his head. “I received word that they were in the area. I heard their King was strong, and he was trying to lure me to his blade. I went to him, of course. Just in time to see you fall in battle. As he was about to finish you, me and my friend Ginin stepped in to aid you. Kol’thakal killed my friend, and I killed Kol’thakal.” As Eucibous recalled the recent events a tear slid down his cheek, though his face still displayed rage.
Kuldric was more than surprised to see that tear. “You seem nothing like what I was taught to believe about you.”
“What do you expect?” Eucibous asked. “Sargath hates me, and wanted his best champion back. So he convinced the heavens that I needed to be destroyed and that they needed his liche to do so. Darnillus is too trusting. Seth’nerak poses a bigger threat to the forces of light than I ever would. I just seek good fights; I have no interest in being a conqueror. Although I suspect Darnillus knew Sargath’s intentions, but still wanted you back.”
His life flashing before his eyes, Kuldric attempted to piece together all the details and make sense of them. “What’s so great about me…I can’t even beat the King of drow, let alone you.”
Eucibous rose to his feet and walked over to Kuldric, resting his hand on the knight’s shoulder. “Kol’thakal was seven hundred years old, and you are merely a human child. He was already one of the best warriors on Darnesia, perhaps the equal to the Liche King, and then he received the aid of a God. Your defeat was to be expected, I fear that he might have even defeated me when I was your age. This loss will make you stronger, and as you grow older, so will your skill.”
Eucibous then walked to the door, stopping within the doorway. Casting a portal to Darnath in the center of the room, he prepared to part ways. “The portal will last one minute, it will take you home. Train and become stronger. We will meet again. Whether it is as enemies, only the future can tell.”
“Ah, yes, I also think that without Herreleck’s aid, you could have beaten the drow.” Eucibous grinned, and walked out the door.
Kuldric smiled unexpectedly, not knowing what to make of the strongest man on Darnesia. Shaking his head in disbelief and humor, he stood and stepped into the portal.
“This is unacceptable, Sargath.” Darnillus stated as he sat at the lat
est meeting of the Gods. “Your drow almost killed my champion. Why was the drow army marching in the first place?”
Sargath played innocent. “My drow? He was Herreleck’s champion; surely I’m not responsible for every God below me? The drow army was marching to assist our forces in fighting the Crimson Blade.”
Gurnac laughed. “Do you really expect anyone here to believe such nonsense? Eucibous easily disposed of the drow King and the army is presently en route back to their island. How did you expect them to help destroy the Crimson Blade? We all know that numbers do not make up for skill in this scenario.”
Sargath glared at the God of neutrality. “This has nothing to do with you. But I would still point out that Kol’thakal did indeed eliminate one of the Crimson Blade’s warriors. They are one less now, and the less we face, the greater our chances.”
Darnillus tapped his finger on the table in front of him. “If you were planning on attacking the Crimson Blade, you would not have summoned an army. You would have brought the King and his mage alone. Are you sure there isn’t something you’re leaving out?”
“Watch your tongue, Darnillus. I might ask the same of you. Eucibous hasn’t aged a day, a God has claimed him.” Sargath said accusingly.
Darnillus’s eyes went wide in anger. “You accuse me of breaking the truce? Eucibous is the most skilled wielder of magic we have likely ever seen; it is quite possible his appearance is an illusion.”
Sargath snorted. “Then perhaps you weren’t watching him when he saved your precious little knight. He told Kuldric the truth, Darnillus. This is not a good development. How else could he know the truth, if a God had not told him?”
Gurnac observed the two arguing in amusement. Not for a moment do they suspect us. Do not underestimate your rivals.
Herreleck decided to speak up out of turn. “My champion’s archmage, Lithak, has told me that he did indeed sense a God’s presence upon the human.”
