Steel, Magick and Faith: Book 1 of The Remus Rothwyn Chronicles

by T.P. Grish

   

  ‘So Remus, what do you do for a living, when you are not saving foolish old travelers like myself?’ Remus thought a bit then spoke, ‘I am a woodcutter, of sorts, but I have other interests. Tell me, what is that device you carry?’ Albertus smiled as they walked, boots crunching the green-orange leaves that littered the road. ‘That is my Arquebus, an ingenious new kind of crossbow that fires bullets. Not the bullets you would use in a sling, but steel ones. Powered by mechanisms and alchemical reactions, the bullet is launched with tremendous force. It is merely one of the new artifacts the Steelwielders have started manufacturing’.

   

   ‘I know a bit about the Steelwielders’ Remus spoke, stopping to glance behind to make sure Elaina was alright, ‘but do tell me more’. The man responded immediately, apparently used to discussing his creed, even in the middle of a forest. ‘The Steelwielders are a nation-spanning group, we are dedicated to helping humanity survive and prosper in these harsh times. Using our science and inventions we can tame the natural world and the wild forces therein’.

   

  ‘What if the natural world does not wish to be tamed, good Albertus? Also, are you sure ‘tamed’ is the most accurate word?’ intoned the feminine voice of Elaina. She was stealthy, Remus smirked, having thought she was a few paces behind. Albertus’ eyes steeled to one of resoluteness, although he seemed to still be in a genial mood, ‘Tell that to the men, women and children who are cursed, killed or abducted by these ‘natural forces’ every year, Madam’. Tension was as thick as oxen cheese for many moments, before Albertus spoke again, ‘Remus, I have told you about myself and what I do. Please elaborate about what you do, you did not tell me the whole story’.

   

  ‘Apart from my woodcutting, I also… research lore on the side. This does not make me popular in the town, as you can imagine’ Remus admitted.

   

  ‘Ah, but knowledge is our salvation, how can the townsfolk resent this activity? What kind of lore do you collect?’

   

   ‘Well, anything- plants, stories, information about creatures, magick-’, Remus cut himself off, seeing a crestfallen and disturbed look on Albertus’ face at the mention of magick. Arriving in town, the band was given lodging and the wounded medical aid. As the bulk of the group wandered off, Remus gave a nod of farewell to Elaina as she sauntered off, her ponderous gaze lingering on Remus and his partner in conversation. Albertus turned to Remus, ‘I owe you a favour, young man, my life, in fact. Although a shot from the arquebus ended the fight, without you and your friend they never would have ran, until we all lay dead!’

   

  Albertus went on, ‘I admire your thirst for knowledge, and would like to present you with a gift. Hopefully it will set your curiosity on the right path, and away from dark knowledge and magick’. He slowly presented the arquebus to Remus, pouch of ammunition slung off it. Remus accepted the gift with a curt nod and a profound thanks. He stopped to place the ammo pouch in his backpack, noticing the straps had come a little loose during the battle. As the sun set and the adventure reached its conclusion, Remus headed back to his cabin, hoping Elaina would decide to pay him a surprise visit. He needed the company of an old friend.

   

  *  *  *

   

  Jabghar slowly crept through the underbrush, eyes skittering back and forth. Yes, this was the place where the unnatural weapon had been used. Bah, if his fellow dwarves had stuck it out they could have overcome the humans. Stepping on to the road, Jabghar sniffed and surveyed the upturned caravan. He had been sent here to scavenge any useful supplies, but he was curious about this weapon. The reports stated that one human used some kind of magic, involving mastery of frost. But that was rubbish, the savages could not master arcane lore, it must have been dwarvish misinterpretation of human technology. Jabghar despised the human technology as much as any dwarf, but knew they had to study it in order to learn to master it. He was not too popular as a result of this inclination.

   

   Yes, there was the smell of alchemy in the air. Moving through the blood and corpses, Jabghar rummaged through some crates; wherein he found books written in human scribble and some basic supplies. Pocketing some food, he resumed his search. Hmm… near the side of the road was another book, this one a thick tome of parchment. It looked different from the others. Flipping through it necessitated sitting down first, in order to heft the large book. Jabghar, aware of the danger that humans may soon appear to bury the dead and recover supplies, tried to be brief in his inspection of the book. He saw scribbles in the human language, then… pictures of plants and fey monsters.

   

  What was this? Flipping pages some more, he was astonished to find samples of dwarvish and elven letters! Crude samples, not all accurate, but how? Was there a human out there studying the Fey? Jabghar’s common sense told him to not waste any more time, and he scurried away, the book in hand. There were possibilities indeed, Jabghar thought with a malicious grin. Deep possibilities. The dwarves could feed information and power to this curious human, in exchange for his… ‘habras’. Habras was the dwarven word for loyalty, but to those who spoke the dwarven tongue it really meant service, someone to use against your enemies.

   

  * * *

   

  As Remus entered his front yard he spied Elaina in his doorstep along with the garishly dressed bowman from the caravan, and they seemed to be chatting amiably. Elaina’s smile disappeared as she saw the arquebus Remus was carrying, obviously aware that he had been gifted it by Albertus and not happy about the presence of the weapon. She shook her head and said ‘Remus, this is Perfidian, our friend from the caravan’. The young blond man sprung up, clasping Remus’ hand. ‘Let me introduce myself. Perfidian Lefoudraye, travelling bard and minstrel! I booked passage with those dour Steelwielder folks in order to experience the sights and sounds of Corsen, and where better to start my journey than a typical small village. No doubt you have an abundance of fine folk tales here. But in all seriousness… I would not be alive and well if it were not for you two, and I thank you, Remus’.

   

  Remus just continued on into his house, then stopped before he closed the door. Turning around he managed a weak smile and said ‘Elaina… Perfidian, why don’t you both come in?’ Elaina’s ministrations had worked some positive impact on him, he mused; and the young woman’s beaming smile showed that she was thinking the same thing.

   

   The trio was soon sitting at the table sipping Duusil tea, and Remus went to fetch some edibles. He brought his backpack to the pantry to unpack his supplies, then froze… He could not see his Lore book. The one he always brought with him to record any new knowledge he might acquire on the road. Searching through the bag frantically, it was obvious it was not present. He remembered finding the straps on his backpack loose after the fray. He gasped in panicked despair, grasping his hair. The book must have fallen out during the battle!

   

  CHAPTER 4

   

   

  Elaina learned a lot more about the situation in the town while Remus was out searching for his book, with Perfidian accompanying her. Remus had hurriedly explained that he had lost his Lore book, and had rushed back to the battle scene in the wilderness to try and find it as quickly as possible. The worried Elaina had unsuccessfully tried to persuade Remus to let her accompany him, but he insisted he could focus better on the task if he went alone. Elaina had thoroughly asked Albertus and his people about the book, and none of them had picked it up; but one remembered seeing a strange book lying near the scene.

   

  With nothing left to do until Remus returned, they had a rather unpleasant encounter with the Sherriff and his goons, who had made a point to show up heavily armed to ask about the dead townspeople. They knew very well that the battle was forced upon Elaina and Remus, witnesses attested to that, too frightened to lie. Peo
ple would leave them alone, but Elaina never recalled the town feeling so unwelcome.

   

  Elaina, Perfidian in tow, sat in the grass within eyeshot of Remus’ cabin, speaking to a townsperson who was also a member of the Witches coven. The townsperson helpfully explained the fitful events of the day, while outwardly affecting an annoyed, distrusting attitude. It was possible for members of the coven to help each other publicly, as long as there was a satisfactorily cynical and pragmatic reason that could be invented when queried by the other townspeople about their interaction with the outcasts. This particular member would claim that she was merely trying to deflect any further violence by the ‘dangerous’ duo of Elaina and Remus, by explaining why everyone in town was so angry at them today. She described how a young child of the town was found dead in the forest that day.

   

  Elaina and Remus had briefly heard about this grim event earlier on in the day, before they had begun their search for the Steelwielder missionaries.  Elaina and Perfidian were shaken and horrified when they learnt the grim details: the child was found torn into pieces, limbs spread over the thick forest floor. It was easy to imagine how this discovery, combined with the attack on the Steelwielder pilgrims, and with the cattle massacre still in people’s minds, created the dangerous psychosis that they experienced today. Elaina was no admirer of the dwarves or of other Fey, their seemingly heartless behaviour never sitting well with her. But… tearing a child apart? She asked the woman if the details were perhaps exaggerated, but no, she was assured that they were not.

   

  Additionally, the townsperson evinced her belief that an angry mob was being formed to potentially launch an attack on the dwarves. She stated that he saw groups of men shouting angry words and arming themselves. This news alarmed the listeners. ‘A war between men and dwarves will not lead to anything good’, understated Perfidian. ‘All the situations in history where this happened resulted in long, bitter, terrifying and protracted fighting’. Elaina nodded her agreement, ‘We will wait until Remus returns and make a plan, we cannot even think of letting a full-blown war occur!’ The conversation subdued, the two individuals worrying about the potential consequences of recent events for the people of High Peaks.

   

  Elaina and the bard sat in silence long after the townswoman left on her own business. Elaina’s musing was interrupted by Perfidian, ‘I would like to thank you for your use of magic during the battle, Elaina. A lot of good men were saved who would otherwise have perished’. She nodded, and he went on. ‘It can’t be easy for a Touched in this town… I also saw the way you were looking at Albertus, you’re not too fond of the Steelwielders, are you?’ he asked gently.

   

  Elaina pondered that question, ‘They’re so focused on their ideals, they don’t think about the consequences of what they’re doing. Look at that implement they used today-’

   

  ‘You mean the one that won the battle?’ Perfidian interrupted ironically. Elaina’s eyes flashed with mild reproach as she continued, ‘Imagine what greater contraptions they are going to impose on the world over time. What uncontrolled damage could they cause? I suppose they are no different than the Church of St. Lusian, or any of those other groups’.

   

  They sat in silence for a while, and Elaina queried ‘Tell me more about yourself, you said you were a travelling bard?’ Perfidian smiled and brightened up, brushing dirt off his fancy clothes, ‘Perfidian Lefoudraye, bard, author and amateur playwright, at your service!’ he exclaimed wryly, before commenting further. ‘I realized one day I needed to make a living somehow, and instead of wading knee-deep in cow dung and mud, or standing over a fire pit making tools, I decided to follow what I always loved: dance, song, and the other arts. I particularly am fascinated with the folk arts of Corsen. I’ve composed a few plays and attempted a few manuscripts, but mostly I perform at taverns or town squares for a few coins. Naturally I need to travel to keep my material fresh’. 

   

  ‘I suppose High Peaks is as good as any town?’ Elaina asked dryly, with Perfidian nodding in response. If there was a specific reason he was here, which there may not be, she would have to learn that later. Assuming they continued to talk, that was. Elaina had to remind herself that although it was hard for her to make friends in the town, Perfidian was a traveler and could be gone in as soon as a few days.

   

  Elaina thought of what the near future would bring. She and Remus would have to do something about the current set of events. Their lives had been relatively comfortable, for outcasts, with the supernatural Fey elements of the surrounding wilderness just intruding in the lives of the townspeople now and then, and causing temporary furors. But the concurrent cluster of events that had occurred recently, were not something they could wait out. Elaina was not sure what she could do, but she must user her powers to do something, after what had happened to the child. The more cynical Remus would be convinced of the reality that they must act for their own self interest at the very least.

   

  Quite soon, Remus’ figure appeared, striding towards his cabin. Elaina and Perfidian caught up to him and she inquired earnestly about the whereabouts of his book. He shook his head, the disembodied expression on his face matching his voice. ‘It was not there, I searched the whole site’.

   

  ‘Knowledge lost can always be regained’, Perfidian piped in, then quieted down after the expressions the two shot him. Elaina filled in Remus about what she had learned from the townsperson, how the gruesome nature of the child’s death, combined with the missing missionaries, led to the attack on them that morning.

   

  Remus blanched at the details, and the confirmation of the rumour they had heard that morning. She gingerly informed him of the possible impending attack on the dwarves by the angry mob. He felt dumbstruck and helpless at the escalation of negative events. Perfidian, sensing the duo needed a private moment, excused himself, saying he would try to ease spirits in the town with his music, and perhaps sing the praises of the two outcasts who had aided in the battle against the dwarves. Elaina shot him an appreciative look before he turned and left.

   

  Remus paced in his doorway, more agitated than Elaina could remember seeing him. ‘Perhaps it won’t make a difference that my book is lost, it never did any good’, Remus stated bitterly. ‘But what else can they expect me to do, besides research the world? There’s nothing else I can…’, he trailed off. Elaina put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, sensing how frustrated he was. His book of lore and research was the only thing that gave him a feeling of control over the world, Elaina realized, and now not only did it fail to prevent any of the horrific events of the preceding days, but it was also lost.

   

  ‘Remus, we need to do something. The townspeople are going to implode upon each other, finding people to blame for the events. More townspeople and travelers might go missing. The rumours of a full blown war with the dwarves are too troubling to ignore. We need to try and find and kill whatever did this’, she implored, referring to the dead child, ‘And find out what we can do to… negotiate a truce. There is no way we can fight this enemy that we do not understand’. Remus nodded at her logic, adding ‘A traditional offering of peace that our ancestors used to give to the dwarves was a slab of freshly smoked meat, and a pouch of refined salt. If we… come across the dwarves, this may come in handy’. Elaina smiled at the increasing confidence in his voice. ‘I may remember some basic ways to communicate with the dwarves, though I cannot guarantee they will work’ adumbrated Remus.

   

  The routine of getting ready for travel was one the duo were used to by now, the difference was the smoked meat and salt they had to acquire and pack, and the extra weapons they brought. Remus found a spot for his arquebus, stringing it across his back and strapping the ammunition pouch on his side. The intangible difference was the knowledge
that this journey was the most uncertain one they had undertaken. They were not venturing to capture a dangerous criminal, or find out what happened to a missing caravan, they were trying to bring a very explosive situation to a peaceful resolution.

   

  What would they do, assuming they even could find the notoriously tricky dwarves? Would they fight back and try to scare them? Wouldn’t they be ripped apart and outnumbered? Would they try to negotiate with them using the remnants of Remus’ erratic research, that is, the parts that he actually managed to remember? Elaina knew that Remus had no answers, not any more than she did. They both knew, however, that they must do something. Elaina mused that she and Remus had, perhaps, become like the adventurers in those old stories he collected, without even knowing it!

   

   

  * * *

   

  GorNu’Set sat on a stunted stalagmite in the sleeping cavern, trying to feign concern as pandemonium broke out around him. Boruggh had escaped! The insane and freakishly large dwarf had been locked up in heavy chains for most of his life, in a small chamber. He was vicious, bloodthirsty and without any kind of respect or comprehension of the edicts. He had previously killed and tortured both dwarves and humans, resulting in him being restrained permanently. The Clanhome was scrambling to find and restrain Boruggh, and some scouts had set out already. Nobody would suspect GorNu’Set of loosening the massive shackles that restrained the beast.

   

  No, not after the successful curse that GorNu’Set had put upon the humans. GorNu’Set had loosened the shackles just before one of Boruggh’s routine outdoor excursions, the brute consequently escaped from his shackles and overpowered his heavily armed escort; scampering into the woods. With the ensuing chaos, there was an opportunity for advancement. There always was.