The Sufferer's Chronicle_Book 1_The Soul Prison
Page 3
Finally, there was Ravious. No one knew his family name or where he came from, though his accent made people think he was from some part of Delrin. His eternal devotion to a long forgotten death God made him “unique” among the other warlords. Even stranger were his followers. More cultist than soldiers, his Black Garde were terrifying Spellwarriors whose power was feared greatly. The warlord accepted all and baptized them into tools of his conquest at the south end of the country.
Ravious himself was a brutal opponent that towered over all other men. Stories of his immense strength and legendary weapon, a large axe that was rumored to spew lava, were sung across the Buervan Highlands. His loose alliance with Thogar kept a certain stability in the areas they ruled over.
Dedricus counted off a total of five names, making a mental note of each and the land they ruled. From what he could make out, each warlord was quite powerful and were very much worth avoiding. In all his years spent in the Highlands, the farthest he had ever gone was the northern edge of Thogar’s land. Otherwise, all his time was spent near Boranath.
“How do you know so much about all these guys?”
“Unlike you, I spent my three years out here learning! I've traveled around a bit too.”
It started to make sense. In many ways, Duke Horas was like the others. At the same time, he was vastly different. There were still connections he could not make, as the mercenary placed a lot of trust in their leader’s diplomatic approach to many things.
“If it wasn't the Duke in charge, say that Ravious guy, how do you think life would be?” Dedricus asked, trying to get his friend to see a different view.
“Of all the others, you picked him? Fine, I'll play along. From what I've seen, Ravious is a religiously motivated man. In his campaign, he doesn’t seek to convert anyone. Effectively, he fights for the ability to praise any idol without persecution.”
“That's noble and all, I guess, but what's that gotta do with any of the other warlords?”
“If you’re not looking to convert others, what’s the motive?”
Dedricus rubbed his chin, deep in thought, as he walked alongside the Elf. He couldn't think of anything else. Perhaps the ruthless giant had some kind of noble flare to him.
“It’s a front. A selfish desire masked by good intentions.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Well, the Duke talks about trade a lot, right?”
Looking back on it, he did. Emphasis on the exchange of goods and services was massive in Boranath and all throughout the land Horas controlled. Even literacy was pushed greatly. Through minor taxes, the warlord was able to gather a large sum of wealth. It was, indeed, a front.
What Ari was saying did carry an undeniable truth to it. Still, it had provided a better living for everyone there. There were two sides to it; as with anything. Dedricus didn't know the warlord personally and could never know for sure.
“I guess you're right. The warlords are the same, more or less. When it comes down to it, Aldrich or Horas?”
“Oh. Horas any day.”
“As I thought.”
“Shut up!” laughed Ari, rolling his eyes with jovial intent.
The sound of rushing water drove the pair off the road. Both were tired from a long walk and sought a short break. They traveled through brush and trees, before finally arriving at the source of the sound. Just off the path was a loud, but narrow stream.
Dedricus rushed ahead, popping open his canteen as he charged. He plunged the container into the cool water to refill it, before slapping the cap back on. Ari set his pack down and hauled himself atop a large rock nearby. The Half-Elf watched as his friend took large gulps of water from the stream.
“At that rate, you're gonna choke!” he warned as the mercenary continued pouring handfuls of water into his mouth.
He hit Ari with a petrifying stare and kept drinking. They weren’t in any particular rush and the break was long needed, considering the air was hot and sticky. Rather than badger his friend, the Elf took a seat under a nearby tree and left him in a coughing fit.
Chapter 5
The Ruins of Relothra were growing ever closer. As they neared the foothills that lined the greater northern regions of the Buervan Highlands, much of the heat and humidity was left behind.
This came as a great relief to Dedricus, who only held contempt for such conditions. Otherwise, there was a mounting excitement within him. His boredom had blossomed into curiosity. Though the endless rows of trees helped stifle that.
He traveled to Relothra now, not as a mercenary, but as someone mildly interested in learning of a culture lost to the ages. In his mind, it would be better to allow Ari to think he didn’t hold a shred of interest. Without giving it away, he'd have to put on a show of apathy.
A rising altitude only helped kill the talking. The only assurance they had that the other was still alive was the back and forth panting. Dedricus wasn’t much of a mountain man, always having lived in flatter regions. The Elf, on the other hand, was just overweight.
Much to their relief, the land at the top of the hill seemed to flatten out a bit. The trail just carried on through the hearty pine trees. They blazed the path, hustling down it with a hint of newfound vigor. A strong urge to urinate hit Dedricus like a sucker punch to the bladder. He stopped in his tracks and held his lower gut.
“Ari, I really gotta go.”
“So go here.” the Elf spat back in monotone.
“And what if someone sees? You know I’m sensitive about that kind of thing!”
The Half-Elf rolled his eyes like the sun rising and setting. He turned his head from side to side before pointing to a nearby clearing. The path off the road seemed to have been cut out deliberately.
Dedricus didn’t care at all as he sprinted over to it. He let out a huge sigh of relief as he undid the straps on his pants and let it all go. As he was relieving himself, he stared deep into the forest. For just a moment he swore he saw soldiers seated around a campfire much further down the clearing.
Calling Ari over, after he finished, the two squinted together. Confirming his suspicions, the Elf thought it’d be adventurous to investigate. The mercenary was vehemently opposed, preferring to just reacquire their pace and continue on towards Relothra. Before he could say no, the rotund thrill-seeker was already deep within the brush.
The soldiers up ahead wore dull brownish-yellow tabards. The hideous stripes of dirty cloth, marked by a black head with a serpentine tongue, was the symbol of the Black Garde, Ravious’ men. As to why they were camped out near the ruins was a mystery that spurred Ari on edge.
What they also found alarming was a young woman, blindfolded, bound, and gagged, kneeling aside one of the seven soldiers. She wore tattered robes and her poofy brown hair was an absolute mess. Bruises and cuts across her body made it seem as though she had either been abused in captivity or went down with a fight. Maybe both.
The Elf pointed her out to Dedricus, who immediately shook his head from side to side. To a degree, he understood. It would be a bad idea to interfere with a warlords affairs. On the other hand, both had a decent sense of justice. To leave her there was to leave her to die.
“We have to save her!” whispered Ari with a stern tone.
“What? No. We both know that’s an awful idea. What if she tried to steal from them? Even worse, what if she tried to kill them? We should just move on.”
“She’s obviously hurt.”
“She’s obviously a criminal!”
By raising his voice, Dedricus seemed to raise the suspicions of the men around the fire. They looked around, but continued with what they were doing. Immediately, the Half-Elf began to form a plan. If they were to succeed, they'd have to cut down on the number of opponents. This would be no easy task.
While many warlords made use of mercenaries, Ravious did not. As a matter of fact, he refused to. Many of his soldiers were fiercely loyal to the end and trained to boot. Even in outnumbered situations, he still gained
victories due to their expertise and ferocity.
The two would have to scatter the Black Garde soldiers, then make their move. Luring the men out, one by one, Ari could use his Earth Magic to bind them in roots or stone. From there, they could move in and free the girl.
Dedricus remained adamantly against the plot. It seemed crazy to take on trained soldiers for a random person. Even then, the plot was weak. Regardless of the Half-Elf Being an adept in his field of magic, the two of them would be little match for their perspective enemies should anything go wrong.
“This is crazy. We’re going to die over a stranger.”
“Then leave if you don’t want to help.”
“I’m not gonna leave you. I just don’t understand why we’re doing this. You doing all this Nienilef crap made you soft.”
As much as the mercenary’s words stung, Ari had no time to give them any weight. They’d still fight alongside one another, even if he didn’t agree. The Elf knew that well and sought to take advantage of that while he could.
Dedricus quickly thought of a simpler way to distract the soldiers. If he or Ari simply approached them, the other could sneak in and free the young woman. The in-and-out plan, put forward by the mercenary, was received well by his friend.
Using the excuse that there was a bear attack, Ari would approach and try to rouse the men. Dedricus would then use that distraction to cut the girl free. Once she was done, the Elf would lose them in the woods. They agreed to meet back up on the road further south.
The young man took off around the camp and got into position. Now in place, he watched as Ari tore through the bushes and landed into the camp. All five of the soldiers rose and drew their weapons, as the portly Elf hopped to his feet in a feigned rush.
“Soldiers! Thank the Gods! M-my camp was attacked by a bear. You have to help!”
“You look awful clean for a bear attack. Where were you camped at?” one of the soldiers spoke up, stepping a little closer to Ari.
“Just a ways north. Please, you have to come!” he wailed as the men held a suspicious air about him.
“Now, hold on. Ol’ Bryon ova there scouted the area. No one was around.”
“We, uh… We just got here. Once everyone got settled, it attacked. Please! My friends are dying!”
Though he did admire the Elf’s acting ability, Dedricus had little time to work with. He snuck through the brush, using the volume of Ari’s fake cries of terror to mask his entrance. With the lightest footfalls he could produce, he snuck over to the girl.
Silently, he unsheathed a knife that he kept at his belt and cut the blindfold off her. He immediately covered her mouth with his free hand. Though she was startled, he pressed a finger to his lips. In compliance, she kept quiet.
“Are you callin’ me a liar?” Dedricus heard the soldier remark as Ari’s charade started falling apart.
Flipping around, behind her, he cut at the thick bindings that held her feet and wrists. The ropes at her wrists were sliced through with ease. The ones tying her feet together were another story. Despite cutting like a madman, it did little against them.
Tired of wasting time, Dedricus unsheathed his sword. He held it high over his head, before bringing it down on the space between her ankles. The weapon split the rope apart with ease but made a loud snapping sound. All eyes were now on him.
“Thanks!” exclaimed the young woman, before dashing off into the woods.
They now had the soldiers to contend with. There was no plan for what to do if they got caught. It was fight and be killed or surrender and be killed, with the very unlikely possibility of imprisonment if they surrendered.
“One of ya, after the girl!”
Had it been four or five men, they could have taken them. Seven was simply too many. As one soldier shoved past Dedricus, the mercenary threw his blade down and raised both hands in the air. Ari frowned sadly at him, receiving only a similar look and a shrug.
Chapter 6
Like the female prisoner, who had successfully escaped, Dedricus and Ari had their hands and feet bound in such a manner that all they could do was walk. They were thrown in the heaviest chains Ravious’ men had with them and were forced to carry on behind them.
Neither one of them knew where they were headed. After being chained up and dragged for many miles, direction was all but lost to them. The soldiers walked with purpose, as if they were in some sort of rush to get wherever they were going. Ari leaned over to his friend, seeming to have had an epiphany of sort.
“I think we're headed to Relothra. I took this path the first time I went.” whispered the Elf.
“Why though? Why would a warlord be there?”
Ari shook his head, signalling that he did not know. The only thing that came to the blade’s mind was that perhaps Ravious was there for the same reason they were going. There was no telling for sure.
It was a hellish pace they had to keep up. The rhythmic yanking of their chains by the soldiers’ officer. His name was Kode, they had come to find. The only real notable feature, made out from under his helmet, was a thick black mustache. By no means was he a very brutal man, but simply one doing his job.
“Urgh! What're you gonna do to us?” demanded Dedricus with the same breath that the officer pulled his chain on.
“Not for me to decide. You're in deeper than you think.” Kode spoke back.
Dedricus had overheard them talking earlier. Supposedly the girl was an obstruction to their leader's campaign. Ari still thought on it, wondering if she really did know something.
For now, they could only wonder what was in store for them. Kode was possibly taking them to a general, who would just have the two executed in punishment for their crime. The officer who held their chains told them little, only that they were in a great sum of trouble.
This dragged on for hours before they finally arrived at Relothra. The ruins were a sight to be held. Nestled deep within the Highland’s northern woods was a settlement from a time long passed. A large tent was set up on the outer edge, sporting Ravious’ banner.
An unmistakable similarity could be found between the crumbled site before them and what remained of the Nienilef structures of Boranath. The architecture of the ancient race was quite odd, constructing with liberal use of pillars as support beams and preferring square shaped buildings. Nature had been taking back many of the structures, covering them with invasive mold and plant-life.
Though they were not headed deeper into the ruins, but dragged towards the encampment of the warlord’s forces. A deal of men, all scattered around the site, greet Kode and his forces. They gossiped aloud, seeing no girl with them, only a young man and a Half-Elf.
Dismissing his men, the officer brought Dedricus and Ari before the large tent. Guarding it were two men armored to the teeth. They sported full platemail, with only their eyes visible through the tiny slits on their great helms. The approaching soldier saluted, to have the guards open the flaps and allow them inside.
Within the tent was somewhat of a lavish paradise to be found in a miserable land. Cool air swirled about, enhancing the shade, with a massive bed laid out on the other side.
It quickly became clear this was not the tent of a commander or an officer. This was the refuge of someone much more. Behind a desk sat a large figure, masked in the shadows that loomed throughout the place.
“My Lord. I bring bad news.” said Kode, to which the behemoth merely grunted, “These ‘heroes’ freed the girl. They were smart enough to surrender. As such, I figured you'd decide their fate.”
He rose. The desk creaked in agony as the man pulled himself up. The ground whimpered with every step he took. Ravious now stood before them.
All the stories ever told of him were true; not one was an exaggeration. He was as tall as a tower and as wide as three men with ashen skin that made it seem like he had never seen daylight. A massive hook nose was planted at the center of his face sporting small lips, cracked and dry, just below it.
“Y
ou've never failed me before Kode. Ensure this is the last time. Return, with your men, to Blackholm. She'll have to be captured again before we can use the relic.” he groaned, granting the captain permission to depart.
Handing off the chains, he bowed to the warlord and left. Ravious paced around the two captives, looking them up and down as he took each step. His aura was foul, instilling such dread, neither had felt before.
“Why did you free my prisoner?”
“You mean the girl?” Dedricus asked back, his voice shaking.
The warlord got down to his height. Showing his yellow teeth, he flashed a smile at the mercenary. The man’s eyes were an abyss, kept so by the dark of the tent. His movements were unnatural, filled with twitches and spasms as he shifted about.
“A stupid question, but yes. The girl. Why did you set her free?”
“She, uh… She looked like she was in trouble, I guess.”
“You don’t know. You acted on impulse. Surely you understand why it’s hard for me to grasp a concept like that. Why get inv-”
“Because it was the right thing to do! For all we knew those weren’t actually your soldiers. What if they were deserters who took someone hostage?” shouted Ari, interrupting the warlord.
“A calculated risk. I can almost respect that. Were it any other prisoner, I’d probably have the two of you already shipped out. Though you have interfered with a greater design.”
Dedricus realized that Ravious spoke in a southeastern Delrish accent, characterized by placing stress on the first syllables of words and preaspiration. He was obviously from the far northeast. Despite his enunciation, he spoke calmly and clearly. The monster almost seemed hospitable.
“What exactly have we interfered with? Your soldiers wouldn’t tell us.” asked the blade, wanting to know of the scheme.
“My religious views are of a secret to no one and within these ruins is a relic to my God. If I have it’s destructive power, the Buervan Highlands will fall before their new King. That girl is one of a handful of people who can stop me. The others are of no concern at this time.”