The Beginnings Omnibus: Beginnings 1, 2, 3 & Legend of Ashenclaw novella (Realm of Ashenclaw Beginnings Saga)

by Gary F. Vanucci

  “Sadreth returned specifically to destroy the three of us who remained. He blamed us for his death, despite the…facts. His mind is completely twisted from the horrible artifact that now compels him. Sadreth was finally thwarted as Nimaira was able to imprison and trap him in an orb of magical origin. The orb was kept safely below the University of Wizardry where the most powerful mages in all of Wothlondia aided in holding Sadreth trapped in a stasis of sorts while we attempted to find a cure,” the high priest continued on, trying to focus on the facts.

  “In his lich form, Sadreth had his soul absorbed and contained within the artifact, which has become his phylactery, and was affixed to a link of chain…a simple amulet. It was guarded by several of Nimaira’s personal sentries, mages and constructs as well as several magical wards.” Tiyarnon moved about the room in an agitated state, recalling the frustrating events of the more recent past.

  “The idea was that as long as we controlled this phylactery, we controlled the thing that Sadreth had become. We were also attempting to uncover the truth of the horrible magic held within that artifact and the malevolent power that compelled him,” Tiyarnon continued. His fists at this point where clenched so tightly that his hands were turning white.

  “The amulet of which I speak has gone missing over four days ago. And with its power gone, Sadreth is no longer imprisoned. He has simply disappeared.”

  Garius was intrigued by that news and took a deep breath, letting the facts sink in and understanding the gravity and seriousness of it all.

  “I should have listened to you a long time ago, Nimaira, and destroyed the amulet,” Tiyarnon admitted with regret.

  “You merely wished—as we all did—to return Sadreth to his rightful place. Or to return his soul from whence it came if we could not,” Nimaira reminded her dear friend, respectfully emphasizing his innocence in the matter. “You blame yourself wrongfully for his death, Tiyarnon.”

  “And now my foolishness may cost us…again.”

  “Let it go!” Rolin Hardbeard slammed a balled fist hard onto the dense wooden surface of the conference table, causing everyone to flinch. He then stood and firmly crossed his arms over his barrel-shaped chest as all eyes gazed upon him.

  “Nothin’ more we can be doin’ now and ye better be durned sure we’re makin’ up for our past sins,” Rolin wisely assessed. “And if we ain’t fit to be trackin’ him, let others take to the task.”

  “It is true,” sobbed Nimaira in agreement. “We have done so much good in both past and present days and have tried to right the wrongs.”

  “I pray for his soul, and my own, for allowing it to happen,” Tiyarnon interjected. “And pray that we find the help we need to recover the amulet, for it must not fall into the wrong hands.”

  Most of the others had known bits and pieces of the story and now completely understood the peril and danger that affected them all. Most of them did not move or speak for a few moments as they digested the information.

  Tiyarnon collected himself after a few moments of hushed silence and continued, directing his next words to Garius and the two sages.

  “To complicate matters, we have recently discovered that…one of my most trusted acolytes—Thaurion—has vanished at the same time the amulet is said to have disappeared. Along with three others in total…all inexperienced priests.”

  Tiyarnon was obviously filled with shame at the possibility that his most promising and trustworthy of apprentices had betrayed him. All accounts on the eve in question from several witnesses as well as the guards at the gates placed not only Thaurion, but three more acolytes of The Shimmering One, as the probable culprits. The four of them were seen leaving the city together.

  “Not only had I interviewed all of my apprentices in great detail, but I had gotten to know them personally,” Tiyarnon admitted to the group. He was obviously flustered by what had happened and could find no logical explanation for the events that had transpired.

  “I am sure that even The Shimmering One would have approved them,” Tiyarnon claimed with finality, pounding his fist hard against the table in clear frustration. He did not appreciate having to second guess his own judgment. With that, he slumped back in his chair with resignation, turning his back to his audience. Only sobbing was heard from the seat at which the high priest sat and the council members filtered out of the room respectfully…all except for two.

  Garius snapped back to the present as the tolling of the bells startled him from his memories. After a moment, the bells stopped and he sorted through the details, looking for answers.

  He recalled that Tiyarnon himself said he’d interviewed the apprentices and used his own divine abilities to look deep into the souls of these men and women prior to employing them. It was a gift of the high-ranking priests and chaplains, as it was of the Inquisitors, to look into a person’s soul and see their intentions. Therefore, it would make sense that something sinister was stirring which had managed somehow to remain in the shadows, undetected.

  A lich, Garius knew from years of study, and reaffirmed by the sages of the Inquisition just an hour past, was a conduit for arcane or divine powers in life. A lich-to-be would have to be stripped of his or her mortality as its own life force would be exchanged, fueling the almost limitless power. It would remain so to serve a purpose or fulfill some type of prophecy. The prophecy of Sadreth had become clearer. The former mage-turned-lich seemed compelled by these evil forces to eliminate his former companions at the very least. This revelation did not sit well with the Inquisitor.

  Garius realized that he needed to do a bit more research himself and consult again with his knowledgeable sages to confirm his suspicions. After that he would need to recall The High Council to go over a few important facts.

  Chapter 6

  “Now that we are all here, I would like to ask a few questions,” Garius Forge began as the council members settled into their seats. Once more, the light shone brightly in the room, despite the sun’s setting, causing Garius to squint against it as it escaped the cloud cover. Off in the distance, a bell tolled.

  “I have given much thought to the circumstances and have determined a few things with the help of my sages,” Garius continued, now pacing back and forth. He absently fingered the holy symbol of The Shimmering One that hung around his neck beneath his braided beard. He stood in his magnificent and rune-covered blood-red armor, minus the helmet that was clipped to his belt under his black cloak.

  “First and foremost, I believe that we need to find a small contingent of worthy combatants to help us track down the phylactery,” he declared, his cloak billowing in an arc behind him as he paced briskly back and forth. “I know that the High Council is busy with political ventures and most of you are but simple business folk being strong of mind, but not strong of arm. Others…,” stated Garius as he gazed directly at Tiyarnon now, “are powerful heroes, but suffer from the simple curse bestowed upon us all—age. It is inescapable. And with age comes other responsibilities.”

  Garius spun and faced the entire table now as he spoke. “Your duties must lie in coordinating the Races of Order to work together to strengthen the entire populace of Wothlondia. You also have vastly important obligations within the city that cannot be shunned. Therefore, we will need some supplementary assistance in this matter,” Garius wisely reasoned, trying to appeal to the better judgment of certain audience members. “It would seem unwise to me to direct your already divided attention to another problem when so many already exist.”

  “Aye,” Tiyarnon said, agreeing with the logic that Garius was sharing and drawing nods of acceptance from the rest of the council, including Nimaira. Rolin Hardbeard had rolled his eyes at first and crossed his arms over his chest defiantly, but now nodded his consent as well.

  “I would say that if Tiyarnon believes that his acolytes—these young priests of The Shimmering One—were pure and clean…then we should not argue that point. Rather, something or someone must have influenced them or otherwise force
d them to act unwillingly,” Garius stated boldly, stroking his beard and maintaining eye contact as he made his points.

  “One of these scenarios is surely the truth. Either way, it was a good idea to involve the Faceless Knights in this matter as it is likely that there was some sort of dissent or possession involved in the whole thing. And as such, we are the foremost authorities in dealing with conspiracies and inexplicable events,” Garius informed them as he gazed at the audience to gauge their reactions. He stopped and then purposefully made his to the head of the table where Tiyarnon sat. He handed the high priest a document that formally stated his intentions. Tiyarnon reviewed them carefully and nodded somewhat resignedly.

  “We must have the signatures of the majority of High Council members present so that we may proceed with the plan of drawing up a public notice to that end,” Garius continued, explaining his measure and gesturing toward the letter as he spoke. “In order for us to complete this investigation, we will need a group that can get the job done.”

  Tiyarnon handed the paper to Nimaira, who in turn passed it to Rolin and so on throughout the entire High Council until every member read the request, signing it as they passed it along while Garius continued with his explanation.

  “A subtle approach is beneficial to the cause now, so I will only be taking a few of the applicants with me.” This drew nods from various members around the table. Then he moved back toward the head of the table and spoke once more, laying a gauntlet on Tiyarnon’s shoulder.

  “Your political demands are many,” he stated to the entire audience, looking them over to hold their attention. ”Oakhaven is hosting The Days of Holy Enlightenment, which also requires your consideration, correct?” he asked rhetorically, then continued, directing his next words specifically to Tiyarnon, grabbing the man by his shoulders and turning to face him.

  “The evil that has overrun Chansuk must be righted. The embers of war are burning bright, so your guidance is needed here most of all, my friend…you know this to be true,” Garius stated softly to his former mentor, then backed away from the high priest, folding his arms over his chest and turning his back to the group allowing them a short break. With that, the listeners began to converse quietly amongst themselves. Garius waited patiently for the whispers to cease before continuing.

  “Tiyarnon, myself, Rolin and Nimaira have agreed to handpick a few willing candidates who we feel can complete the unenviable task of recovering this artifact,” Garius added, redirecting his focus back to the entire council now. “I will personally lead this group in an attempt to ensure the recovery of that artifact and guide the chosen ones to that end.”

  He caught the eye of Aeldur, the Captain of the Watch, who had been the last to sign the document. Garius knew of the half-elf pathfinder. He also knew that he was a master tracker and had spent years in the surrounding countryside protecting Oakhaven from any threats that the wild offered. The half-elf had also spent time as a member of the Watch, until Rolin finally promoted him to Captain—and deservedly so. The young man was a bit brash, despite his other redeeming qualities and Garius predicted the question before it was uttered. He accepted the document from the half-elf and waited.

  “Why, if I may ask, am I not included in this?” Aeldur demanded, standing from his seat.

  “Do you not have responsibilities already?”

  “Aye, but—,“

  “Then so be it…you have answered your own question,” Garius stated calmly, interrupting his question and causing the young half-elf’s eyes to widen in disbelief.

  “Let me clarify. I do not intend to strip Oakhaven of its key people. You have all become important figure-heads within the communities and will play important roles in the coming years. No…you will remain here and continue to use your influence over the guards and maintain the law within the city, Aeldur. It is what you have sworn to do, and so you must see it through.” Garius spoke with a determination that compelled the half-elf to return to his seated position. A bout of silence passed within the room until Garius began to address them once more.

  “We must now draw up the notice and conduct interviews over the next day or so in order to get the desired individuals. Any input and help that can be given to this matter will be appreciated. We want to keep this group small in order to maintain a semblance of stealth and to not upset the entire populace. We cannot have bands of warriors marching across the plains, warning the enemy of our approach. At least not initially. We also have limited resources, so viable candidates may be few and far between.”

  Garius moved to the edge of the table and drew all eyes to him for a moment.

  “I have several agents set up all over the city who have been observing the activities of prospective candidates,” he confessed, surveying each of the High Council members to measure their reactions at that admission. “These agents have been reporting back some useful information.”

  Some of the High Council looked shocked at this news. Then they realized that this was, after all, the Faceless Knights of Order. The Inquisition was expected to have eyes everywhere. And so they did.

  “I have a few people I would like to question personally should they choose to show up, but I will address this later,” Garius continued. “We will certainly get a good measure of riff-raff, so make certain that our interviewees are worthy. If not, dismiss them quickly and be done with it.”

  All of them agreed to the terms set forth and also to help both draw up the notice and assist with the interview process wherever they could.

  “Aeldur, assemble your best guards to maintain order during this process within the Halls of the High Council and its surrounding area,” Garius added as a final instruction. “You will need to at least double the current number.”

  Tiyarnon and Garius exchanged knowing glances and nodded as they set to the task of executing the next stage of the Inquisitor’s plan.

  Rose strode confidently into the Tall Tale Tavern and studied the crowd there, standing close to the entrance as she did so. Not many noticed her arrival, which suited her just fine. She adjusted her daggers in their place on her thigh-high scabbards, turning them inside facing, and lowered her hood to reveal her long, red hair, which she shook free. She strode up to the bar and waited for the familiar bartender to notice her.

  “Barkeep, I’d like a goblet—nay, a pitcher!—of your finest wine.”

  “I’ll be givin’ ye a glass of nothin’ ‘til ye settle up yer tab, Miss Thorne” said a gruff dwarven voice from behind the bar. He hadn’t even looked up to see her yet.

  “I can do just that, Mister Flinteye” Rose replied sarcastically after a short-lived chuckle. “But I’m not sure I want to.”

  “Can ye now?” he replied, his brown eyes suddenly wide with surprise as he fondled his thick white beard.

  “I can,” she affirmed. “Can we go somewhere more…private?”

  Melin Flinteye pointed to the door to his office behind the bar and gave instructions to his two sons—Herum and Jarin. He then strode off to the room with Rose following closely behind.

  Moments later, Melin Flinteye came out trying hard, but not succeeding, in hiding a smile that surfaced, ranging from ear to ear. Rose stood in the doorway of his office and shook her head.

  “I’ll be anticipating your finest wine this eve, Melin,” Rose called after him as she walked over to a table at the rear of the bar.

  The Tall Tale Tavern began to fill up over the next hour as people filtered in. This was somewhat normal, but was even more so with those in town for The Days of Holy Enlightenment, Rose presumed.

  Rose scanned the bar and noted a group of louder-than-usual womenfolk in the center of the main hall that seemed out of place. Curious, she thought. But then again, Oakhaven lured in all kinds of races and humanoids from different backgrounds.

  However, with the uprising of the goblinoids and their newly found aggressive behavior, they were rarely seen with the walls of the city these days. Rumors had begun to circulate over th
e last month or so about them. But, like all other races, Rose thought, there are good and bad in each culture, and one would be wise to judge them each individually in order to decipher their intentions. You cannot judge a book by its cover, she was once told, or you will be often dumbfounded by what you find within.

  Any race was given welcome passage into Oakhaven as long as they showed the proper behavior and respect. And it was not uncommon, even in the recent past, to witness a goblin, an orc or even a taur—those bull-headed psychopaths!—roaming the streets. There had been an occasion or two where Rose had picked the pockets of a pack of drunken orcs that had wandered into the city, even as recently as a week prior.

  She remembered one group in particular wandering around Oakhaven years ago, before the attack on Chansuk, which included a taur, a rather large one if she recalled, amongst a group of orcs and humans. There was even a drunken goblin with them too, she remembered delightfully as she sipped her wine.

  The rule in Oakhaven was simple…respect the law and the law-keepers will respect you back. The seemingly unending patrol of The Watch saw to that.

  Oakhaven was a fine place indeed, Rose recalled again, absently smiling as she did so. A serving wench came over to her table and delivered another expensive tumbler of wine.

  “Who are they?” Rose asked the server, a quietly beautiful, unassuming woman, as she turned to leave.

  “They are the survivors of the terrible slaughter of the Chansuk tribe to the south,” she answered in a whisper, trying not to alarm them. “Had you not heard?”

  “I had not,” Rose lied. Of course she had heard of them, she’d just never seen the barbarians in person before. Rose tossed a silver coin on top of the few copper she owed and the woman scooped them up and hurried away.

  Rose sipped at her wine and studied the women of Chansuk, noticing that they were all masking a serious pain and drowning it, or at least trying to, in the mass consumption of alcohol.