by Jason Kenyon
This state of affairs had come to a painful halt when the ignored activities of down-and-out cultists had escalated with the appearance of the would-be god Marr the Summoner, who had empowered them to call on an army of monsters that had torn apart Ferrina. In the ensuing conflict, the Council had hidden away in the Citadel, the gangs in the docks had united to save what little profit they could, and a small band of adventurers had taken the fight back to Marr and put an end to his attempt to destroy Ferrina.
But what had the Heroes of Ferrina gone on to do, with their grand task complete? Two months after the fall of Marr, as the Paladin Order steadily brought a semblance of normality back to the streets of Ferrina and restored power to the ruling Council, what adventure did the companions embark on next?
‘Game of cards, anyone?’ Obdo asked.
Archimegadon’s house was bathed in a cheerful glow this morning, perhaps as bright as one could make it in the dark underground city. A low table was set out in front of the fireplace, and around it sat a few comfy chairs, three of which were currently occupied. On one chair was a short and slightly round man, whose messy hair, stubble and dishevelled auburn jerkin marked him out as a lazier breed of hero. This was not altogether different from the sandy-haired, thinner man who sat next to him, though this particular hero had made more of an effort with his white, gold, and blue shirt tunic, which had the emblem of the sun emblazoned on the front.
As for the last member of the group sitting around the table, he was wearing his grand and majestic robe of regal purple with gold trimmings. Clearly some great expense had gone both into the tailoring and procuring of this particular robe, which was why it was perhaps rather bemusing that its crumpled appearance right now gave away that the wearer did not treat it with the care that it deserved.
Beneath thundercloud eyebrows, Archimegadon’s emerald eyes were fixed on the deck of cards Obdo held in his left hand.
‘Obdo, you cheat every time,’ Archimegadon replied. ‘Moreover, I believe that is your marked deck that we caught out last week.’
Obdo blinked. ‘Oh my, I must have brought the wrong set, Sir Mage. Silly me.’
‘Quite.’
With practiced ease, Obdo exchanged the deck for another one. ‘Not to worry. Got a second deck right here.’
Archimegadon’s grey beard bristled. ‘Hand it over, Obdo. I’m not trusting this deck until I’ve checked it over in advance.’
‘Such a lack of trust, Sir Mage,’ Obdo said, but he tossed the deck across the table anyway. ‘There you go.’
Archimegadon nearly dropped the deck, which only made his irritation worse. He slid the cards out of their tatty box and flicked through them, trying to find a mark or something that might prove that Obdo was cheating as usual. Unfortunately, he’d really been bluffing – he had no idea what to look out for, and had most certainly not been the one to identify the marked deck last week.
That success had been down to their sour companion Tharanor the city guard, who had dropped by for a rare bit of relaxation before returning to his frustrations trying to set up the City Watch anew. Apparently the Council had not been too receptive to the idea, since the Paladin Order agreed with them a lot more and were, to be fair, a very effective deterrent to crime. Tharanor wasn’t about to become a paladin any time soon, though, so he was still hoping to get a proper non-Light guard set up.
Archimegadon returned his attention to the deck of cards, realising that he’d not paid the slightest bit of attention to it while he thought back on things. Obdo had an angelic expression, which clearly meant that there was some form of insolence afoot. Stuck between admitting he’d not found how Obdo’s deck was marked, and impatience to actually start the game, Archimegadon finally settled on the latter and threw the deck back to Obdo.
‘Very well, let’s get started,’ Archimegadon said.
Obdo’s superior smirk threatened to provoke Archimegadon into putting his fiery magic powers to use, but a knocking at the door interrupted the festivities. Glad at this interruption, Archimegadon rose to his feet, though young would-be paladin Neurion was faster and started to make for the door first. Lunging to stop Neurion, Archimegadon tripped on his robes and blundered into Neurion, who stumbled into the wall to the side of the front door. Capitalising on this success, Archimegadon regained his balance and threw open the door.
‘Oh no, it’s you,’ he said.
‘Morning to you too, grumpy,’ said the visitor.
Dressed in a white shirt with a blue jerkin and leggings, and with shining blonde hair drawn back in a ponytail, Mellara looked like a nice and friendly villager who you’d normally find buying food or something similarly inoffensive at a market. She was, instead, a trained killer who worked for local crime lord Diojin, cheerfully able to murder you with daggers, her short sword or, by her preference, from a safe distance with her longbow. Unwillingly drawn into an alliance with Archimegadon’s band of misfits, she’d stood against Marr the Summoner and now seemed to consider herself one of their friends.
Given that she’d gone straight back to that ass Diojin, Archimegadon wasn’t particularly inclined to trust her very far.
Her crimson irises, a mark of the mad realm where Marr had once lived, also made him nervous. While to all appearances it seemed that the Sideslip was closed off for good, nobody had actually deliberately set out to do that, leaving Archimegadon rather unconvinced that the dark realm was gone for good. Even without her vague link to Marr’s realm, Mellara had betrayed them once in the past, and she had a long way to go before Archimegadon would trust her with anything more than idle chatter.
‘What are you after?’ Archimegadon asked.
Mellara quirked an eyebrow at him. She wasn’t stupid, but then even fools could have easily detected Archimegadon’s hostility right then. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not Blade business,’ she replied. ‘I came by because I thought you’d like to know that Abernoth is making an announcement at the Citadel later today.’
‘Why would I care what that imbecile councillor has to say?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘Not been paying attention lately?’ Mellara asked. ‘The paladins have been all quiet for the past few days. Something’s up.’
‘Paladins are always upset about something,’ Archimegadon said. ‘I hardly have the time to be concerned about that every time it happens.’
‘Maybe, maybe not,’ Mellara said. ‘Can I come in? It feels kind of weird talking about this on your doorstep.’
‘Hmph, if you must,’ Archimegadon replied, stepping back a pace. ‘Hands where I can see them, though – no stealing.’
Mellara rolled her eyes but raised her hands and wiggled her fingers at him to show she wasn’t thieving everything. Archimegadon still followed her suspiciously all the way over to the table, where she enraged him yet further by taking his seat at the table. Scowling, Archimegadon took the chair that had its back to the fireplace, where he became uncomfortably warm in his robes.
‘Good morning, milady Nightshot,’ Neurion said as he took his own seat again.
‘Morning Missy Red-Eyes,’ Obdo said.
‘Not as red as yours, drunkard,’ Mellara said with a smile.
Obdo just chuckled. ‘You dropping by to join our cards game?’
‘Oh, well I think I have some time for that,’ Mellara replied. ‘Been playing much already?’
‘Barely started,’ Obdo replied. ‘Took about an hour before Sir Mage here woke up enough to even answer the door.’
‘Shut up, Obdo,’ said a super-heated Archimegadon. He tried to shift the chair away from the fireplace, which conveniently also allowed him to move away from Mellara.
Obdo grinned and started dealing. When he dealt Mellara her first card, she coughed loudly.
‘You know, you’d get knifed if you tried this in the docks,’ Mellara said.
Obdo almost looked proud, but he dutifully collected back his cards and brought out a third deck. ‘Can’t sneak anything past you, milady.’
Once they’d got started with the game, Archimegadon found his curiosity returning to him against his better judgement. ‘Alright then, madam, what is this business with the paladins you were going on about then?’
Mellara blinked. ‘Oh, now you’re interested? I think something’s happened somewhere else in the kingdom. Word travels slow, but the paladins have their own ways of getting info around faster. All sorts of stuff has come out from under the floorboards since your knight friend murdered Orgus Alhamis.’
Archimegadon frowned. Once a member of Archimegadon’s group, the knight Valia Relassis had eventually gone traitor like the rest of her order, and joined first the rebel Lord Bartell, and then even Marr, apparently driven by resentment both at her own treatment by others, and also her family’s treatment by the kingdom. The latter part he knew little about, but for a few errant thoughts he’d shared with her through a strange sort of magic that had bound them for a moment in the Sideslip.
After she’d escaped the companions, she’d gone on to murder the chief mage in Valanthas, Orgus Alhamis. The act had been witnessed by a suspect fellow who’d gone straight to the paladins at Ferrina and earned himself a high reward. The ensuing outcry had suddenly uncovered some surprising secrets held by the slain archmage – specifically information that had shown he’d been funding cult activity not only in Ferrina but also over in Aldrack. That had, in turn, rebounded negatively on the Queen of Valanthas, Unette Alhamis, who’d been married off to the King to buy her father favour years ago.
‘The paladins over near Aldrack also told everyone that Lord Bartell was up to no good,’ Mellara went on. ‘Last we heard, pretty much every official everywhere is under heavy investigation.’
‘I do hope there isn’t going to be any more trouble,’ Neurion said.
‘Depends how far the King pushes everyone,’ Mellara said. ‘The nobles have their own private armies, and the Knights of Valanthas are trying to explain that they had nothing to do with the Order of Endless Skies going bad. Then you’ve got the Mage Order trying to distance themselves from Orgus and the Clerics, a city that’s having to be rebuilt and another city that was flattened entirely…’
‘Yes, I suppose things in Valanthas haven’t been going particularly well lately,’ Archimegadon said. He remembered it was actually his turn, and hurriedly played his card, only to realise he’d placed the wrong one in his haste. Obdo was swift to capitalise, preventing Archimegadon from retracting the failure.
‘You never know, though,’ Mellara went on. ‘It may just be that the Ferrina Council is restoring the City Watch, or announcing the official end of the clean-up. We’ve not found a demon in the docks for weeks now, and I’m pretty sure that’s the same in the rest of Ferrina.’
‘Were you planning to take us with you to this announcement?’ Archimegadon asked.
‘Figured I should,’ Mellara replied. ‘We’re all Godslayers, remember.’
Archimegadon had mixed feelings about that. Mellara had returned to the Fallen Blade with uncertainty after they’d killed Marr – after all, she’d failed to steal the Staff of Antagules as Lord Diojin had desired. However, killing Marr had trumped that, something that had been hard to fully prove, but supported by the confirmation Mellara had brought that the demons were no longer immortal without Marr’s protection. With the dark summoner dead, the demons didn’t come back to life each time they were killed, and that had started off the fight to take back Ferrina.
That revelation had created the reputation of Archimegadon’s band as the Godslayers – a title that had given them a lot of attention, which Archimegadon initially enjoyed, until he realised that it most assuredly had earned the ‘interest’ of Lord Diojin himself. Wary of potential enemies, Diojin was infamous for killing off competition, and Archimegadon was never quite sure if Diojin had plans to act on such suspicions.
Obdo and Neurion seemed oblivious to the more negative ramifications, and they just smiled at Mellara in response to this. Archimegadon scratched irritably at his beard; this whole conversation was starting to give him a bad feeling.
‘We’ve got time for a few games and some lunch first, though,’ Mellara said.
‘Sounds like a good day’s work to me,’ Obdo said.
*
Their trip across Ferrina to the Citadel was uneventful. Two months had passed since the companions had made their dangerous journey through the demon-controlled streets, but it was still hard to kick the habit of checking every shadow for potential demons. The beasts in question had been a collection of scaly reptilian monsters that had a good sixth sense for tracking down prey and finding their way around the city. Difficult to outrun, and impossible (until Marr’s death) to kill permanently, they’d been able to bring down the old order of the city and herd people into houses, awaiting Marr’s eventual plan to convert the people into yet more demons once he’d recovered his full strength by invading the magical realm of Constella.
These days, while the streets were still fairly empty, they had the (sort-of) comforting presence of paladins in most areas to keep things in order. Travel was a lot faster as a result, and it wasn’t too long before the companions found themselves joining a large crowd that surrounded the gates of the Citadel. During the Marr crisis the gates had been firmly shut to all, and the bodies of people trying to find comfort behind them had littered the scene, while expressionless guards ignored them from the walls above. Now, though, the gates were thrown open, and a podium had been erected a small distance in front of them.
Four people stood on the platform – two faceless paladin guards in full armour, and then two other men whose faces were not concealed behind helmets. One of them was indeed not even in armour, but instead wore a rich silk doublet, which was partially concealed beneath his glorious, long white beard. Archimegadon recognised him as Councillor Abernoth, essentially the leader of the Ferrina Council in all but title. The only member of the Ferrina Council who seemed to have a proper understanding of affairs, though still heartless in the execution of his duties, Abernoth had done most of the public speaking since the fall of Marr. As the councillor had predicted during the crisis itself, while the people disliked the Council for their attitude during Marr’s rule, they allowed the Council to start running things again now that they had the support of the effective paladin army.
The man next to Abernoth was not one that Archimegadon recognised, but to judge from his shiny armour (similar in vastness to that worn by the deceased Commander Grand), this was a leading paladin. He had his helm tucked under one arm, and looked like an adult, competent, and powerful version of Neurion – his short blond hair was wavy in all the right ways, and his chin could have been used to carve out the entirety of the cavern in which the city of Ferrina had been built.
It was a while before anything happened, and Archimegadon grew immensely restless and began to consider trying to test some new experimental spells. Not much of a mage despite his boasts, Archimegadon had decided to try to increase his knowledge of the magical arts since his ineffectual attempts to defeat Marr using magic. Blowing things up was all well and good (and extremely entertaining, at that), but it only got him so far, and tended to leave him relying either on his companions, or on more unorthodox solutions.
Before Archimegadon could accidentally set something on fire, though, Abernoth began speaking.
‘Greetings, those of you who have come today,’ he said, his expression grim. ‘Recently we marked two months since the Paladin Order joined us in Ferrina to bring an end to the crisis that enveloped our city. While I wish we could continue in such a positive direction, I am afraid that today I come before you with sad tidings.’
Archimegadon exchanged a glance with Mellara. It seemed her more pessimistic expectations would be true after all.
Abernoth looked over at the blond paladin for a moment before turning back to the crowd.
‘We have received word from the capital that the King has been assassinated by Unette Alhamis, who was working f
or the cultist organisation known as the Clerics under her father,’ Abernoth continued, and a murmur of discontent passed through the crowd. Normally it may have been more shocking, but given their own personal troubles recently, the people of Ferrina were less inclined to become upset over something so far away. ‘While Unette was caught at the scene and executed for her crimes, it is well known that she also never bore any heirs for her husband, leaving an empty throne. Given the recent wave of troubles afflicting the kingdom, the Central Council of Valanthas has made the decision to appoint a Regent until a suitable heir or replacement can be found.’
‘Bloody Clerics,’ Obdo said. ‘Thought we’d dealt with them all.’
‘Yuriath did say there were some in Arenfel,’ Archimegadon said. ‘I suppose they got desperate after everything went so wrong in Aldrack and Ferrina.’
‘This is terrible,’ Neurion said. ‘I thought things were going to get better for everyone.’
‘You should never be optimistic,’ Mellara said. ‘Then you’ll never be disappointed.’
Abernoth was still talking, and Archimegadon returned his attention to the speech.
‘…Is why he’s here to speak to us today,’ Abernoth continued.
‘Thank you, Councillor Abernoth,’ the blond paladin said. He stepped forward and placed his helmet on the stand. ‘I bid you all welcome in the name of the Light. I am Shield Commander Malthanes of Azentarth. You may not know of me, but it was under my command that the Order both came to Ferrina and then dealt with the demonic crisis. It has been my honour and privilege to work with your people and Council to return the streets to the citizens.’
