Vorcet looked down at the drawing on Elbryan's desk before him. It had been a good idea to put his ideas into the form of a symbol. Already several people had asked what its meaning was. The people of the realms were used to seeing crests on peoples cloaks. The old churches had displayed them proudly upon their clothes or armor. Seeing a new one invited questions. Questions Vorcet was more than glad to answer. The crest consisted of a set of scales surrounded by the seven stars of Mystra's faith. On the plates of the scale were the symbols of each elemental deity evenly balanced between the sides.
Approaching Demosthenes about this new group had been easy enough. Even through the language gap of having to use hand signals to communicate Demosthenes had displayed his understanding of this new path and had agreed to its necessity. He had even taken to wearing the same crest on his own clothing.
Interest and one other person were however not enough to maintain a presence in the realms. it was time to begin seeking out those who had shown interest and getting them actively involved. To truly explain the precepts governing this new ideology, to make them understand the necessity of this duty to the world, to share with them how the mistakes of the past had cost them all so much. After all, someone had to be prepared to sound the warning should things tip in that direction again.
The site of the biggest current imballance on the continent seemed a better place to start than any other. Vorcet chanted the words that would whisk him away along the weave to Tim's magic shop in what had once been and was still in most people's minds, Westbridge. He popped into existance in the back of the shop. Tim looked up briefly. if he was surprised he showed it not at all.
"Can I help you today Vorcet?" Asked tim in his customary blank tone. "Just passing through for now, though I may have something of a puzzle you could help me with later." responded vorcet as he remembered the strange book about the ruins of Tru he had recently laid hands on. "I do enjoy a good challenge friend. Very well, be about your business before the guards notice you lingering." Tim said with a slight warning tone to his voice.
Vorcet simply nodded and exited the shop as inconspicuously as he could manage. The vectorian guards were distracted by one of the street cleaners they were busily berating with insults and well placed kicks. Vorcet made his way to the market square and the fountain. Taking quick stock of the people milling about there was nobody of interest.
Vorcet took a table outside of the pub and ordered a glass of ale, he then settled in content to wait for one of the several people who had shown interest to show up in the square even as Demosthenes was likely now doing on the other continent.
Cheap Thrills
Wednesday, the 15th of Eleint
I've never thought to actually keep one of these. Most of what runs through my head, I wouldn't want to put into writing. Self incriminating evidence and all that. So yeah... It's great not to have to trade tobacco for food from the bottom bunk of a prison cell again. Didn't think I'd run across Sanria again, much less in a city like Waterdeep. Didn't think I'd ever heard word from that fling I had back in the city as well. Rumors fly that the woman killed something like ten civilians. Thank the gods her husband came home when he did, I would hate to be number eleven. Damn... And they put ME in jail?? Much as I hate to admit it, a small part of me is glad to be back home. Though I'm not quite certain what this Lifestream trip that Sanria told me the old man put me up to will entail. For now, I'm supposed to be waiting for the ex-clannie who I am to accompany, but so far nobody has come by since Sanria left. Empty houses are about as fun as empty beds I've learned. Though one or two of the girls on the serving staff that remained behind may see to fixing the last one before the day is over. Well, enough for now. I'm not sure what sort of crap I'm supposed to put in this old thing, only that----------------------
(A long dark pen mark runs across the page)
I've never thought to actually keep one of these. Most of what runs through my head, I wouldn't want to put into writing. Self incriminating evidence and all that. So yeah... It's great not to have to trade tobacco for food from the bottom bunk of a prison cell again. Didn't think I'd run across Sanria again, much less in a city like Waterdeep. Didn't think I'd ever heard word from that fling I had back in the city as well. Rumors fly that the woman killed something like ten civilians. Thank the gods her husband came home when he did, I would hate to be number eleven. Damn... And they put ME in jail?? Much as I hate to admit it, a small part of me is glad to be back home. Though I'm not quite certain what this Lifestream trip that Sanria told me the old man put me up to will entail. For now, I'm supposed to be waiting for the ex-clannie who I am to accompany, but so far nobody has come by since Sanria left. Empty houses are about as fun as empty beds I've learned. Though one or two of the girls on the serving staff that remained behind may see to fixing the last one before the day is over. Well, enough for now. I'm not sure what sort of crap I'm supposed to put in this old thing, only that----------------------
(A long dark pen mark runs across the page)
The Lost Tome...(continued)
Tsabicaran sits at his desk in his personal chambers within the High Hall. With a heavy hand he turns another page careful to not damage it. He looks towards the parchments resting next to him and begins to scribbleupon them. "Hmmm" he says in deep thought. He turns back to the tome turning yet another page. Hours go by and finally the last page is turned. Again looking over to the now many parchments resting next to him he makes his final scribble. He picks up the parchments and begins shuffling into order. Leaning back in his chair he lets out a sigh. "Now to begin studying them properly" ,he says with determination. Flipping thru page after page and at times going back to reread certain pages hours pass. He slams the set of parchments down on his desk and grabs his pipe. He pushes clumps of mixed dried grasses into the pipe and strikes a match upon his cheek. Carefully placing the match over the opening and drawing heavy upon the mouth piece he shutters dropping the pipe and the match. With a blank stare he begins to stand up from his resting position. He quickly snaps out of it and stomps on the match, picks up the pipe and places it on his desk. "Crovax...Psycho...I must inform them of this now." He says with a hurried voice.
The Lost Tome...
Sangraal bursts into the Grand Foyer of the High Hall nearly breathless. He furiously secures the doors behind him and quickly makes his way to the library on the second floor. He throws himself down into a chair. Blood begins to make a small pool on the floor from his many wounds. As he regains his breath Tsabicaran enters the room. Tsabicaran with a concerned face says, "Dear friend I heard the Grand Foyer doors slam and..." Quickly Tsabicaran rushes to the side of Sangraal and begins to heal his wounds. "My bag...it is in my bag," Sangraal says with a heavy breath. "Yes yes it can wait a moment. Please sit still and relax yourself," Tsabicaran says with true concern of his friends state, "We need to get you to the healing room now. Your wounds will mend but not without true proper care." Worried, Tsabicaran helps Sangraal up and walks him to the healing room where priests await to heal him further. As Sangraal is placed on the bed he jolts up and grabs Tsabicaran's arm, "The tome...it is in my bag," Sangraal says has his eyes begin to close..... Sangraal awakens with ease. "The tome Sangraal, where did you find it." Tsabicaran says in a soft voice. "Uh...the tome? Yes the tome! Did you find it?", Sangraals says with fright and concern. "Yes, but where did you find it?" "The Chamber of Intrigue...in the Shattered Keep II." "I see. Do not worry yourself any further my friend you will be fine. Now rest." "But..." Tsabicaran cuts him off saying, "Rest...That is an order." Sangraal nods and lets out a heavy sigh as he begins to fall back asleep.
Closing Doors, Opening Trials
Two entities. One felt relief in the form of a cold focus and realistic nature. The other felt damaged, weakened and hurt as if it had just lost a vital part of it's being. The first twisted darkly through the ethereal essence of it's existance, bearing down upon it's wounded cousin. A brief flare of brilliance exuded from the second entity as it fought to retain it's existence in the ethereal. Fought for a war that had slowly been lost within the avalanche in which time had become. Just as swiftly as the battle had begun, it ended. The first descended upon the second smothering it in it's embrace as if to say: 'Shh, it's okay. You'll find true strength in this.'
The sound of Throm's tent flap rapidly parting woke him suddenly. He blinked several times, the shadows of sleep and...something else slowly receding from his vision. The middle aged man clad in a uniform identifying him as a Lieutenant within the Tripower Army stopped cold in his tracks his mouth agape.
'Yes?' Throm rasped, clearing the sleep from his voice as well.
'Your eyes? I thought? Nevermind.'
Throm frowned as he rolled onto his side, sitting up in his bed. He was certain the man would not have woken him for the mere sake of looking into his eyes. He noted the man's name on the ID plate he wore over his light armor just in case.
'Well Lieutenant...Nils. What can I do for you this fine morning?'
The man looked rather sheepish for a moment causing Throm to wonder if truly the man had burst into the wrong tent accidentally. Suddenly the man seemed to remember where he was and stood to full attention on the spot.
'Sir! Battle Patrol 27 responded earlier this morning to a sighting by Scout Patrol 4 on the North Gate of Kefkaburg. Bodies sir. Hung by their necks from the wall. A family of Espers.'
Throm's frown deepened. The boldness of the Vectorian's had been growing steadily, this much was apparent in the ever increasing taxes and imprisonments without trial. But open slayings of it's citizens was too much. He stood up, noticing for the first time the letter still held in his hand. Last night he had read it once, then twice, then again. Then this morning it's contents no longer brought conflict within him. He casually tossed it into the blazing brazier which burned at the edge of his tent and walked out.
The sound of Throm's tent flap rapidly parting woke him suddenly. He blinked several times, the shadows of sleep and...something else slowly receding from his vision. The middle aged man clad in a uniform identifying him as a Lieutenant within the Tripower Army stopped cold in his tracks his mouth agape.
'Yes?' Throm rasped, clearing the sleep from his voice as well.
'Your eyes? I thought? Nevermind.'
Throm frowned as he rolled onto his side, sitting up in his bed. He was certain the man would not have woken him for the mere sake of looking into his eyes. He noted the man's name on the ID plate he wore over his light armor just in case.
'Well Lieutenant...Nils. What can I do for you this fine morning?'
The man looked rather sheepish for a moment causing Throm to wonder if truly the man had burst into the wrong tent accidentally. Suddenly the man seemed to remember where he was and stood to full attention on the spot.
'Sir! Battle Patrol 27 responded earlier this morning to a sighting by Scout Patrol 4 on the North Gate of Kefkaburg. Bodies sir. Hung by their necks from the wall. A family of Espers.'
Throm's frown deepened. The boldness of the Vectorian's had been growing steadily, this much was apparent in the ever increasing taxes and imprisonments without trial. But open slayings of it's citizens was too much. He stood up, noticing for the first time the letter still held in his hand. Last night he had read it once, then twice, then again. Then this morning it's contents no longer brought conflict within him. He casually tossed it into the blazing brazier which burned at the edge of his tent and walked out.
Preludes to War
The breath of the chocobos and their riders steamed in the cold morning air. Rising up it vanished into the gray sky above, which cast down a gloomy light upon the outskirts of Kefkaburg. It was a quiet morning save the crunching of the morning frost beneath the feet of the birdlike mounts as the patrol moved purposefully towards the North Gate of the city. Atop the walls of the city, magenta armored sentries stood next to their equally magenta banners which sat just as still as their sentient counterparts in the windless skies. No movement came from above, no demands to turn back. The Vectorians wanted the patrol to be there it seemed. Wanted the riders precisely where they were. A single gesture from the foremost rider brought the patrol to a halt just within range of arrow fire, yet still the magenta figures looked down impassively from above. The lead rider, clad in heavy armor of bright red and blue, swung down from the saddle both hitting the ground heavily and eliciting a quiet 'wark' of relief from the chocobo. As he looked up to the gate a small gasp escaped him, echoing through his helm far louder than he had intended.
It was exactly what it had appeared to be according to scout reports, but worse. A man woman, three children, even what had probably been the family pet had been strung up by their necks and left for the crows Espers by the look of them, a Vectorian favorite. Removing his helm in reverence the patrol leader, a youthful looking elf with a copper mane of hair, motioned for the other riders to approach.
'Soran, Julie. Stay behind and keep the crows off of them. Bradin, Tohl. You will accompany me into the plains to look for something to build a ladder with. We're not going to leave them up there. Nils, I want you to ride back to the Blockade as though the Dragon Queen herself were on your heels. Tell them what we've seen.'
The elf stared above the bodies to where the Vectorian sentries still stood as magenta rocks sprouting from the top of the walls.
'yabraguoph'
His eyes suddenly jumped into focus as though someone had placed an invisible telescope to his eyes. Blinking he looked up again, both anger and dread filling his very soul at what he saw.
They were smiling.
It was exactly what it had appeared to be according to scout reports, but worse. A man woman, three children, even what had probably been the family pet had been strung up by their necks and left for the crows Espers by the look of them, a Vectorian favorite. Removing his helm in reverence the patrol leader, a youthful looking elf with a copper mane of hair, motioned for the other riders to approach.
'Soran, Julie. Stay behind and keep the crows off of them. Bradin, Tohl. You will accompany me into the plains to look for something to build a ladder with. We're not going to leave them up there. Nils, I want you to ride back to the Blockade as though the Dragon Queen herself were on your heels. Tell them what we've seen.'
The elf stared above the bodies to where the Vectorian sentries still stood as magenta rocks sprouting from the top of the walls.
'yabraguoph'
His eyes suddenly jumped into focus as though someone had placed an invisible telescope to his eyes. Blinking he looked up again, both anger and dread filling his very soul at what he saw.
They were smiling.
Contingencies for Contingencies
The heavy footfalls of Colin's boots along the wooden floor of the library echoed throughout the room. Throm studied the warrior carefully. Predictably, Colin's rate of alarm had been steadily increasing since he had learned of Sanria's departure. His decision to follow and approach Sanria was already apparent in his body language.
'Where did she say she was going, exactly?'
Throm continued to study the man as he divulged the information that would soon put him on a course to Sanria.
'She'll probably be on her way to Torregiano. After that I believe Baldur's Gate and Waterdeep.'
Colin's frustration was evident in his voice as well as the increased speed of pacing as he glared at Throm, shaking his head.
'Just when things seemed to be coming together. I'm sorry, but there's no way I can just sit up in this house and not care that she's out there by herself with all that we've seen. You convinced me that this threat was big enough to go into the rift, yet you are fine with just letting this happen.'
Throm leaned forward upon the table as he nodded earnestly.
'Shall we pack up the ship, and bring her back by force then?'
Colin waved him off, his frustration clearly mounting as he detected Throm's sarcasm.
'No, don't you worry, you carry on however you want. I can take care of this. Thank you for the information.'
'What would you do?'
Colin turned to Throm, signs of a cool anger simmering just beneath the surface evident even to the sorcerer.
'I told you, I'm going to make sure she's safe. After that... we'll see. It wouldn't be the first time I've been a guardian. But maybe you've forgotten how.'
His comment hit closer to home more so than Colin could have known. He was right in ways he could not have known. Throm was accustomed to moving people about, as pawns on a chessboard, but even in the worst of times he had not made habit of doing so with friends. He had always drawn an invisible line in the fabric of his moral state, separating friendship from the cool calculating voice within him that always seemed to get things accomplished efficiently.
'If you must keep tabs, then do so. I know deep down I would feel better about it. But by blundering in, announcing that you don't respect her freedom to get away. Does that truly serve her...or does it serve you?'
This earned him another angry glance from the larger man.
'I'm not you Throm. I can't just sit back and watch things happen. I also won't slip about following Sanria like some king of thief, and I won't operate based upon assumptions.'
Throm nodded, reverting mentally back to his original plan. Colin was a man of action, Throm could respected that. His concern would lead him not to dance around the issues, but rather to charge directly into the heart of them. Throm knew his own concern was no less, but there was always a plan to be executed. A contingency for contingencies. While both may in truth have the same goals in mind, they were opposite sides of the coin in nature. But it would be both sides that would be needed to see this through.
'I hope you will keep me informed as well. I'll be leaving here as soon as I catch up with Thasmudyan. I will be staying at the Blockade east of the city.'
Colin issued a somber nod which did not necessarily commit to or against doing so.
'Well, time's wasting. I need to make preparations. I have a lot of ground to make up.'
The warrior departed, leaving Throm to scratch out the location of potential hidden caches upon a piece seconds before the man in black slipped back into the room, chuckling in sarcasm though speaking quietly so as not to be overheard.
'Long time no see.'
Throm folded the parchment and handed it to the man returning his comment equaling his tone of sarcasm, in the process.
'It has been indeed.'
The Cetra cast a glance at the doorway after Colin.
'It's good to know I still have friends out there. Ensure he doesn't know you're following.'
'No doubt.'
The man nodded and once more took his leave. Throm sighed, alone to his thoughts once more. He had but one more task to complete before leaving the manor. His gaze drifted to the small necklace that still lay upon the table. He would need to see to it's safety, and for that he would need Thasmudyan.
'Where did she say she was going, exactly?'
Throm continued to study the man as he divulged the information that would soon put him on a course to Sanria.
'She'll probably be on her way to Torregiano. After that I believe Baldur's Gate and Waterdeep.'
Colin's frustration was evident in his voice as well as the increased speed of pacing as he glared at Throm, shaking his head.
'Just when things seemed to be coming together. I'm sorry, but there's no way I can just sit up in this house and not care that she's out there by herself with all that we've seen. You convinced me that this threat was big enough to go into the rift, yet you are fine with just letting this happen.'
Throm leaned forward upon the table as he nodded earnestly.
'Shall we pack up the ship, and bring her back by force then?'
Colin waved him off, his frustration clearly mounting as he detected Throm's sarcasm.
'No, don't you worry, you carry on however you want. I can take care of this. Thank you for the information.'
'What would you do?'
Colin turned to Throm, signs of a cool anger simmering just beneath the surface evident even to the sorcerer.
'I told you, I'm going to make sure she's safe. After that... we'll see. It wouldn't be the first time I've been a guardian. But maybe you've forgotten how.'
His comment hit closer to home more so than Colin could have known. He was right in ways he could not have known. Throm was accustomed to moving people about, as pawns on a chessboard, but even in the worst of times he had not made habit of doing so with friends. He had always drawn an invisible line in the fabric of his moral state, separating friendship from the cool calculating voice within him that always seemed to get things accomplished efficiently.
'If you must keep tabs, then do so. I know deep down I would feel better about it. But by blundering in, announcing that you don't respect her freedom to get away. Does that truly serve her...or does it serve you?'
This earned him another angry glance from the larger man.
'I'm not you Throm. I can't just sit back and watch things happen. I also won't slip about following Sanria like some king of thief, and I won't operate based upon assumptions.'
Throm nodded, reverting mentally back to his original plan. Colin was a man of action, Throm could respected that. His concern would lead him not to dance around the issues, but rather to charge directly into the heart of them. Throm knew his own concern was no less, but there was always a plan to be executed. A contingency for contingencies. While both may in truth have the same goals in mind, they were opposite sides of the coin in nature. But it would be both sides that would be needed to see this through.
'I hope you will keep me informed as well. I'll be leaving here as soon as I catch up with Thasmudyan. I will be staying at the Blockade east of the city.'
Colin issued a somber nod which did not necessarily commit to or against doing so.
'Well, time's wasting. I need to make preparations. I have a lot of ground to make up.'
The warrior departed, leaving Throm to scratch out the location of potential hidden caches upon a piece seconds before the man in black slipped back into the room, chuckling in sarcasm though speaking quietly so as not to be overheard.
'Long time no see.'
Throm folded the parchment and handed it to the man returning his comment equaling his tone of sarcasm, in the process.
'It has been indeed.'
The Cetra cast a glance at the doorway after Colin.
'It's good to know I still have friends out there. Ensure he doesn't know you're following.'
'No doubt.'
The man nodded and once more took his leave. Throm sighed, alone to his thoughts once more. He had but one more task to complete before leaving the manor. His gaze drifted to the small necklace that still lay upon the table. He would need to see to it's safety, and for that he would need Thasmudyan.
Contingencies
Little galaxies, each one containing perhaps hundreds of worlds. Be they symbolic or literal Throm knew not. The only thing he knew was that the necklace they had found within the cave inside the rift was a powerful artifact, and according to Kaliadra may perhaps be capable of travel to other worlds not reachable by standard arcane means. The journey back had been uneventful, the return home more so. Sanria had left after perhaps a day after their return, and Throm couldn't blame her. As glad as he was to have everybody under the same roof, he imagined the manor had become quite stuffy as of late. Even with the knowledge that she would be outside of his immediate protection Throm was secretly glad that she was headed east. It was probably safer there than it soon would be in Westbridge.
Throm stood from the table where he sat within his library and walked slowly over to the map which covered the northern wall of the room. Most of it had been filled in thanks to efforts combined between the topographers at Melancholy's and his own personal travels. He inwardly mused which parts me might fill in next, turning away only at the sound of a polite cough in close proximity. He smiled at the darkly clad man before him
'Apologies my friend, the older I get, the more I tend to drift off into other worlds.'
The man laughed, his leather armor creaking slightly at the movement. Shaking his head so as to neither confirm or deny Throm's statement he spoke in a voice that betrayed years of smoke inhalation and soft spoken words.
'We've been unable to locate her. Thus it may prove difficult to ensure her safety.'
Throm nodded. His eyes scouting over the man to determine the sincerity of his statement. A short time ago, it would have been only a quick word throughout the web the Emirc Dezinagro Syndicate maintained and the information would have been at his fingertips. He turned to the bookcase closest him, and slowly ascended the ladder to the top rung as he searched aimlessly along the upper shelves.
'There may be another way. As we speak a man by the name of Colin Stone searches the manor for either me or Sanria. He will fare better better than you I imagine.'
Again the man laughed. If his feelings were hurt his ashen face showed no sign of it.
'I suppose you'd like me to follow Stone, who will lead me to Sanria?'
Throm frowned.
'His name is Colin, and it's not quite that easy. I will see to it that supply caches are at your disposal in case the worst should befall him. He's still trying to figure out what may be happening to him and does not yet know the full of it.'
The man raised an eyebrow. He ran a hand through a tangled mane of black hair.
'I don't know the full of it, nor the empty of it. What's happening to him.'
Throm shook his head, glaring down from the ladder for a moment before resuming his browsing along the book shelf.
'You don't need to know that. You'll know what to do when the time comes. But for now I'll recommend a hasty retreat, Colin is approaching.'
Throm didn't hear the man depart, but the voice of Colin behind him confirmed his leaving.
'Throm, hello.'
Throm stood from the table where he sat within his library and walked slowly over to the map which covered the northern wall of the room. Most of it had been filled in thanks to efforts combined between the topographers at Melancholy's and his own personal travels. He inwardly mused which parts me might fill in next, turning away only at the sound of a polite cough in close proximity. He smiled at the darkly clad man before him
'Apologies my friend, the older I get, the more I tend to drift off into other worlds.'
The man laughed, his leather armor creaking slightly at the movement. Shaking his head so as to neither confirm or deny Throm's statement he spoke in a voice that betrayed years of smoke inhalation and soft spoken words.
'We've been unable to locate her. Thus it may prove difficult to ensure her safety.'
Throm nodded. His eyes scouting over the man to determine the sincerity of his statement. A short time ago, it would have been only a quick word throughout the web the Emirc Dezinagro Syndicate maintained and the information would have been at his fingertips. He turned to the bookcase closest him, and slowly ascended the ladder to the top rung as he searched aimlessly along the upper shelves.
'There may be another way. As we speak a man by the name of Colin Stone searches the manor for either me or Sanria. He will fare better better than you I imagine.'
Again the man laughed. If his feelings were hurt his ashen face showed no sign of it.
'I suppose you'd like me to follow Stone, who will lead me to Sanria?'
Throm frowned.
'His name is Colin, and it's not quite that easy. I will see to it that supply caches are at your disposal in case the worst should befall him. He's still trying to figure out what may be happening to him and does not yet know the full of it.'
The man raised an eyebrow. He ran a hand through a tangled mane of black hair.
'I don't know the full of it, nor the empty of it. What's happening to him.'
Throm shook his head, glaring down from the ladder for a moment before resuming his browsing along the book shelf.
'You don't need to know that. You'll know what to do when the time comes. But for now I'll recommend a hasty retreat, Colin is approaching.'
Throm didn't hear the man depart, but the voice of Colin behind him confirmed his leaving.
'Throm, hello.'
Faprakk versus the slumbering beast
Cold and windy in the streets of Vector, the young minded halforc Vrakk sprints steadily down the cobblestone path. In his hand is a newly acquired Vaprak action figure, that he carefully guides through the air is if it were flying. "pew pew pew" he emits noises imagining lasers firing from the eyes of the figure as simulates the outcome by stomping bugs with his feet. Approaching the door of a lesser known in the head of the doll pokes curiously around the corner as if investigating the room before proceeding to enter. He continues moving down the halls of the inn, bouncing the figure from wall to wall as if mimicing some heroic leap. He looks to the doll, "Faprakk slay villains!" The comment is followed by a hand gesture, causing the doll to rock back and forth as if it were nodding in agreement. Vrakk carefully sneaks open a door of an inn room, again poking the head of the doll around the corner first, "Shhhh!!!" He says to the doll as she sneak upon an unsuspecting sleeping guest. Vrakk pounces the doll onto the guests head, who is obvious drunkenness only rolls over to his other side, bouncing the figure up and down as if claiming victory over an enemy. Vrakk hmms quietly to himself, as if something weren't right. Slowly he reaches to his side with his free hand, setting free his mace. With a solid swing he smashes into the skull of the sleeping patron, bloody fragments flying about the room. Happily, Vrakk proceeds bouncing the figure up and down into the squishy mess that was once a mans skull. "Victory! Victory for Faprakk. Faprakk strongest!" he squeals, continuing to swim the doll around in pool of blood and brains that previously made up the head of the sleeping man.
Syndrome.
Kashmir looked directly at John. "Men, who's hands be orchestrated by the Gods' will. I am cursed, John. I am cursed as I always have been. My sins lay heavy upon my shoulders, and now... Now... " He looked over and the body of his still wife. His voice
John sat up, "No Kashmir! No! You have devoted your life to searching for the Gods, they could not have been part of this! "
Kashmir looked back, "I have found the Gods, John. I have found them, right here. Amongst the ruins of my life. Our Gods, that we pray to. That we confide in. That we give our lives to. They are not holy beings. They are not the Gods we have believed them to be. How can they be. How can they allow this... "
John moved over to Kashmir, on his knees until he was in front of him. "Kashmir, blame not the Gods for this. Blame not yourself. There is good in what the Gods do. You know there is. "
Kashmir shook his head, tears flowing down his soot-ridden cheeks. "If there is good amongst the Gods, it is losing a battle we know nothing about. It has left me. They punish me for what I am. For who I am. For my existence. "
His voice merely a whisper now, "No Kashmir, you... You aren't right. You're a man, just as anyone else. You have no sin that could have brought this upon you. "
Kashmir began shuddering, his entire body quaking with each breath. The fury had not left his eyes, his voice grew louder, "No sin that you are aware of. Nor a sin I considered not paid in full with the absence of child!! "
John was taken aback, "Kashmir, of what... What do you speak? "
Kashmir stood up, "I am no man John. I am no human as this mask would have you believe. " He pointed to the remains of his wife that he had dropped on the ground. "This is a sign John. A mask, same as I am wearing. A sin from which I cannot escape, but for which I am not at fault. I DID NOT DESERVE THIS!! "
Kashmir placed a finger on his chest, "The Gods have forsaken me. Tortured me, and shown me for what they truly believe me to be. A masked sin in itself. "
John, still on the ground looked up to Kashmir, "No... How, how could they have? "
Kashmir looked down at him, "Because John. The Gods are not the benevolent beings we thought they were. This is now clear to me. They are weak, tyrannical, evil. THEIR OWN HATRED! It is spilling forth from the heavens! Don't you see!? They reject me for what I am! Their compassion better spent on those more deserving! I am a monster to them, a horror! " Kashmir's finger that he had placed on his chest began to glow white. "I will not have it, John! I WILL NOT TOLERATE THEIR INJUSTICE!! " His body began to glow a brilliant, searing white. His skin began to boil and steam, melting off his body slowly, white light radiating from his wounds.
John looked on in horror, moving backwards. "Kashmir! Stop! "
"NO! The syndrome of the Gods will NOT CONTROL ME! " The pain in Kashmir's eyes did nothing to betray the fire ripping through his flesh, screaming through his soul. He tiled his head back and released a howl never before heard by John's ears. Kashmir was engulfed in a white light as his magic tore the rest of his body away, forcing John to cover his eyes.
When the light faded John looked forward, trying to allow his eyes to adjust to the now pitch black sky. Before him, where Kashmir once stood, now was occupied by something unlike any that he ever knew existed. Towering over him, several feet his senior, stood a machine. Gears, pulleys, pistons... All the makings of a machine, formed into a humanoid figure. The flesh that entombed this beast now melted away.
John, horrified could only say "Kashmir... " The machine's head looked downwards at him, it's voice raspy, unkind. "I am done hiding. " Kashmir turned towards the body of his wife and walked to it. Kneeling it reached an arm out, sharp mechanical fingers extended over the body. In a flash, the body caught fire, the ashes raising into the night's sky. "Rest well, my love, " he said in the raspy, mechanical voice. " Standing up, without another word, nor a glance back to John, Kashmir walked off into the night.
John sat up, "No Kashmir! No! You have devoted your life to searching for the Gods, they could not have been part of this! "
Kashmir looked back, "I have found the Gods, John. I have found them, right here. Amongst the ruins of my life. Our Gods, that we pray to. That we confide in. That we give our lives to. They are not holy beings. They are not the Gods we have believed them to be. How can they be. How can they allow this... "
John moved over to Kashmir, on his knees until he was in front of him. "Kashmir, blame not the Gods for this. Blame not yourself. There is good in what the Gods do. You know there is. "
Kashmir shook his head, tears flowing down his soot-ridden cheeks. "If there is good amongst the Gods, it is losing a battle we know nothing about. It has left me. They punish me for what I am. For who I am. For my existence. "
His voice merely a whisper now, "No Kashmir, you... You aren't right. You're a man, just as anyone else. You have no sin that could have brought this upon you. "
Kashmir began shuddering, his entire body quaking with each breath. The fury had not left his eyes, his voice grew louder, "No sin that you are aware of. Nor a sin I considered not paid in full with the absence of child!! "
John was taken aback, "Kashmir, of what... What do you speak? "
Kashmir stood up, "I am no man John. I am no human as this mask would have you believe. " He pointed to the remains of his wife that he had dropped on the ground. "This is a sign John. A mask, same as I am wearing. A sin from which I cannot escape, but for which I am not at fault. I DID NOT DESERVE THIS!! "
Kashmir placed a finger on his chest, "The Gods have forsaken me. Tortured me, and shown me for what they truly believe me to be. A masked sin in itself. "
John, still on the ground looked up to Kashmir, "No... How, how could they have? "
Kashmir looked down at him, "Because John. The Gods are not the benevolent beings we thought they were. This is now clear to me. They are weak, tyrannical, evil. THEIR OWN HATRED! It is spilling forth from the heavens! Don't you see!? They reject me for what I am! Their compassion better spent on those more deserving! I am a monster to them, a horror! " Kashmir's finger that he had placed on his chest began to glow white. "I will not have it, John! I WILL NOT TOLERATE THEIR INJUSTICE!! " His body began to glow a brilliant, searing white. His skin began to boil and steam, melting off his body slowly, white light radiating from his wounds.
John looked on in horror, moving backwards. "Kashmir! Stop! "
"NO! The syndrome of the Gods will NOT CONTROL ME! " The pain in Kashmir's eyes did nothing to betray the fire ripping through his flesh, screaming through his soul. He tiled his head back and released a howl never before heard by John's ears. Kashmir was engulfed in a white light as his magic tore the rest of his body away, forcing John to cover his eyes.
When the light faded John looked forward, trying to allow his eyes to adjust to the now pitch black sky. Before him, where Kashmir once stood, now was occupied by something unlike any that he ever knew existed. Towering over him, several feet his senior, stood a machine. Gears, pulleys, pistons... All the makings of a machine, formed into a humanoid figure. The flesh that entombed this beast now melted away.
John, horrified could only say "Kashmir... " The machine's head looked downwards at him, it's voice raspy, unkind. "I am done hiding. " Kashmir turned towards the body of his wife and walked to it. Kneeling it reached an arm out, sharp mechanical fingers extended over the body. In a flash, the body caught fire, the ashes raising into the night's sky. "Rest well, my love, " he said in the raspy, mechanical voice. " Standing up, without another word, nor a glance back to John, Kashmir walked off into the night.
Syndrome.
As they drew closer to Kashmir's house the plume of smoke grew thicker, the fires that created it still smouldering amongst the ash of that which it burned. Then the odor hit. Rancid, acidic and strong enough to make the two of them begin coughing. They had slowed their pace down to a trot, wary of any danger, and still not knowing from where the fire burned. As they drew closer however, it became apparent to both of them. The smoke's origin lay within his home.
"Kashmir, wait! " John yelled, but he had already broken away, leaving John behind. Urging his horse forward ever faster, digging his heels into the beasts sides. He could see it now, as he sped along the plains. His house, on the outskirts of the village, in ruins, it's life fleeing upwards into the sky on the trail of the black soot. His horse thundered closer, it's hooves pounding the ground relentlessly, it's nostrils flaring as it breathed heavily. John was still shouting from behind him, trying to get him to stop. There was no stopping. He had to get to her, she had to be okay. She had to be.
John had fallen far behind Kashmir, as the man rushed towards his burning home, pushing his horse so hard it's a wonder the beast hadn't collapsed by now. John pushed his forward as well, trying to catch Kashmir, but to no avail. In the distance, he saw the man disappear into the smoke that surrounded the house. John stopped his horse several hundreds yards short, watching, not knowing what to expect.
Silence. Nothing had happened in nearly a minute - suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream pierced his ears, shattering the silence and sending his horse in a panic, throwing him from the saddle. John immediately got to his feet and ran, as hard as his legs would allow it. Breathing harder than he ever had in his life, his feet carried him to Kashmir's house. The house was little more than rubble now, the entirety of the structure had been reduced to ash. It wasn't a large house, but the pile of smouldering wood lay scattered in several directions. Kashmir was no where to be seen. Breathing hard, John made his way around the side of the house. There, beyond the extent of the wreckage, was Kashmir, hunched over on the the ground. John stopped in his tracks as if punched in the gut. To Kashmir's left was a body, lying sprawled on the ground. It went without telling who the body belonged to. John moved forward, cautiously, so as not to startle Kashmir, keeping his eyes fixed on the body next to him. The light from the fading sun was enough to give illumination to what John had wished not to see. The body was blackened, burned in the same manner as the house. But from so far out... It was not from the same fire. Wrenching his gaze off the remains of Kashmir's wife and back to the man himself he continued moving forward, but stopped short again when a voice came from in front of him.
"John. " Barely more than a whisper. "Why? "
John continued to look at Kashmir as he stood up, his hands in front of him, his head down. "Why? " He uttered again, louder this time. "Kashmir... " John said quietly as he moved forward again, reaching Kashmir's back. Putting a hand out and grabbing his shoulder he pulled Kashmir, attempting to pull him around. As Kashmir turned, John jumped in shock and horror to what he saw before him. Kashmir's downwards gaze became suddenly apparent. In his hands, stripped brutally from her head, lie the burnt flesh that was once his wife's visage. John stumbled backwards and fell down, tripping over a rock. He leaned over and emptied his stomach onto the ground beside him. He looked back up at Kashmir, who still held the same pose. His arms fell, dropping the flesh in his hands. Falling to his knees, Kashmir looked up at John. "Why John? Why has this happened? "
John stammered, "I-I-I don't know... I... Kashmir... "
Fury ignited in Kashmir's eyes, "WHY HAVE THE GODS FORSAKEN ME!? " His fists clenched as he yelled into the sky, "Why have you taken all I ever cared about from me!? WHY!? "
John could barely find his voice, "K-Kashmir. This could not have been the Gods' doing. It was men Kashmir... The Gods, they... They could not have done this."
"Kashmir, wait! " John yelled, but he had already broken away, leaving John behind. Urging his horse forward ever faster, digging his heels into the beasts sides. He could see it now, as he sped along the plains. His house, on the outskirts of the village, in ruins, it's life fleeing upwards into the sky on the trail of the black soot. His horse thundered closer, it's hooves pounding the ground relentlessly, it's nostrils flaring as it breathed heavily. John was still shouting from behind him, trying to get him to stop. There was no stopping. He had to get to her, she had to be okay. She had to be.
John had fallen far behind Kashmir, as the man rushed towards his burning home, pushing his horse so hard it's a wonder the beast hadn't collapsed by now. John pushed his forward as well, trying to catch Kashmir, but to no avail. In the distance, he saw the man disappear into the smoke that surrounded the house. John stopped his horse several hundreds yards short, watching, not knowing what to expect.
Silence. Nothing had happened in nearly a minute - suddenly, a bloodcurdling scream pierced his ears, shattering the silence and sending his horse in a panic, throwing him from the saddle. John immediately got to his feet and ran, as hard as his legs would allow it. Breathing harder than he ever had in his life, his feet carried him to Kashmir's house. The house was little more than rubble now, the entirety of the structure had been reduced to ash. It wasn't a large house, but the pile of smouldering wood lay scattered in several directions. Kashmir was no where to be seen. Breathing hard, John made his way around the side of the house. There, beyond the extent of the wreckage, was Kashmir, hunched over on the the ground. John stopped in his tracks as if punched in the gut. To Kashmir's left was a body, lying sprawled on the ground. It went without telling who the body belonged to. John moved forward, cautiously, so as not to startle Kashmir, keeping his eyes fixed on the body next to him. The light from the fading sun was enough to give illumination to what John had wished not to see. The body was blackened, burned in the same manner as the house. But from so far out... It was not from the same fire. Wrenching his gaze off the remains of Kashmir's wife and back to the man himself he continued moving forward, but stopped short again when a voice came from in front of him.
"John. " Barely more than a whisper. "Why? "
John continued to look at Kashmir as he stood up, his hands in front of him, his head down. "Why? " He uttered again, louder this time. "Kashmir... " John said quietly as he moved forward again, reaching Kashmir's back. Putting a hand out and grabbing his shoulder he pulled Kashmir, attempting to pull him around. As Kashmir turned, John jumped in shock and horror to what he saw before him. Kashmir's downwards gaze became suddenly apparent. In his hands, stripped brutally from her head, lie the burnt flesh that was once his wife's visage. John stumbled backwards and fell down, tripping over a rock. He leaned over and emptied his stomach onto the ground beside him. He looked back up at Kashmir, who still held the same pose. His arms fell, dropping the flesh in his hands. Falling to his knees, Kashmir looked up at John. "Why John? Why has this happened? "
John stammered, "I-I-I don't know... I... Kashmir... "
Fury ignited in Kashmir's eyes, "WHY HAVE THE GODS FORSAKEN ME!? " His fists clenched as he yelled into the sky, "Why have you taken all I ever cared about from me!? WHY!? "
John could barely find his voice, "K-Kashmir. This could not have been the Gods' doing. It was men Kashmir... The Gods, they... They could not have done this."
Syndrome.
The trip down the mountain went without incident of outside influence. Once a man nearly slipped down a steep slope, but with a quick spell of levitation, his life was spared. Upon reaching camp, the clamor of another successful excursion burst through the group. One last night was to be spent here, before their return the following day. As the sun faded and all returned to their tents a few remained outside to take in the feeling of accomplishment, Kashmir and John among them.
They stood out on the Eastern ridge of the plateau upon which their trail had begun. "Soon, " John said to Kashmir, "Soon you will be back with her. We are fortunate that we needed only be gone for such a short amount of time. "
Kashmir nodded, "I had promised her I'd return by the week's end, however. " He chuckled, "I am already late, she will have both my ears when I return. "
John scoffed, "Well you would be the deserving recipient for having foolishly promised your timeliness! "
Laughing Kashmir nodded, "As we men always our in our loving wives eyes. "
Yawning John turned around towards the camp, "I fear I must retire. The night is growing late and we've still a few days travel ahead of us. You should think about doing the same. "
John nodded, "I am sure all is well. The world is not a perfect place, so never will it feel so. Especially not to one such as you. Good night, Kashmir. "
As John walked off, Kashmir turned back towards the East. A feeling of pure dread washed over his body. He kneeled in prayer.
As he awoke the next morning, Kashmir left his tent, the rising sun greeting him from the base of the mountain. He had slept longer than he desired but felt quite rested. The negative feeling swimming through his mind had not been extinguished however. There still remained doubt that everything was well.
To his surprise, John was still on the mountain, whereas mostly everybody else had departed before the sun arose. Walking over to him with a smile John greeted him. "Morning! I decided I'd ride back with you today, and you have no say in matter. " Laughing Kashmir grinned, "your presence is always accepted, brother. Is this decision absent reason? "
"Is companionship not reason enough!? " John laughed. "Come, you lazy child, your slumber has wasted much of the day already! "
It had indeed, having wanted to leave long before now, Kashmir was beyond tardy for departure. Wrapping up the last of their supplies and stringing them to their saddles, they both mounted their horses and set off down the mountain. With the Gods' favor they would make as good of time on their return they did on their arrival.
During the entire travel home, Kashmir could not shake his feeling that something was amiss. He only wish through all his wondering and his prayers of the first night on the trip back, that something would reveal the meaning of his worry.
"Kashmir, " John said his name in a low voice, threaded with concern. "What's that, over there? "
Kashmir looked towards the direction of John's outstretched finger, directly in front of them on the horizon. A black cloud filled the sky at the far reaches of their sight, stringing up from the ground and expanding as it reached the clouds. Smoke. For the past few hours they had been on a direct course towards Kashmir's home, John had planned to stay the night with him and his wife, as his residence was another day's march south. The smoke that lay in front of them, lay in the direction of his home and village. Were they burning crops?
"I don't know, " Kashmir replied. "Perhaps the village is burning waste. Around this time of year anything from the harvest that isn't to be used is burned. The smoke is not generally so black though... " He looked over at John, who's expression was riddled with doubt. The same feeling of utter horror washed over Kashmir again. This is what had been nagging at his senses for the past two days.
"John, we must hurry."
With that, the two kicked their horses into a gallop, speeding towards the village.
They stood out on the Eastern ridge of the plateau upon which their trail had begun. "Soon, " John said to Kashmir, "Soon you will be back with her. We are fortunate that we needed only be gone for such a short amount of time. "
Kashmir nodded, "I had promised her I'd return by the week's end, however. " He chuckled, "I am already late, she will have both my ears when I return. "
John scoffed, "Well you would be the deserving recipient for having foolishly promised your timeliness! "
Laughing Kashmir nodded, "As we men always our in our loving wives eyes. "
Yawning John turned around towards the camp, "I fear I must retire. The night is growing late and we've still a few days travel ahead of us. You should think about doing the same. "
John nodded, "I am sure all is well. The world is not a perfect place, so never will it feel so. Especially not to one such as you. Good night, Kashmir. "
As John walked off, Kashmir turned back towards the East. A feeling of pure dread washed over his body. He kneeled in prayer.
As he awoke the next morning, Kashmir left his tent, the rising sun greeting him from the base of the mountain. He had slept longer than he desired but felt quite rested. The negative feeling swimming through his mind had not been extinguished however. There still remained doubt that everything was well.
To his surprise, John was still on the mountain, whereas mostly everybody else had departed before the sun arose. Walking over to him with a smile John greeted him. "Morning! I decided I'd ride back with you today, and you have no say in matter. " Laughing Kashmir grinned, "your presence is always accepted, brother. Is this decision absent reason? "
"Is companionship not reason enough!? " John laughed. "Come, you lazy child, your slumber has wasted much of the day already! "
It had indeed, having wanted to leave long before now, Kashmir was beyond tardy for departure. Wrapping up the last of their supplies and stringing them to their saddles, they both mounted their horses and set off down the mountain. With the Gods' favor they would make as good of time on their return they did on their arrival.
During the entire travel home, Kashmir could not shake his feeling that something was amiss. He only wish through all his wondering and his prayers of the first night on the trip back, that something would reveal the meaning of his worry.
"Kashmir, " John said his name in a low voice, threaded with concern. "What's that, over there? "
Kashmir looked towards the direction of John's outstretched finger, directly in front of them on the horizon. A black cloud filled the sky at the far reaches of their sight, stringing up from the ground and expanding as it reached the clouds. Smoke. For the past few hours they had been on a direct course towards Kashmir's home, John had planned to stay the night with him and his wife, as his residence was another day's march south. The smoke that lay in front of them, lay in the direction of his home and village. Were they burning crops?
"I don't know, " Kashmir replied. "Perhaps the village is burning waste. Around this time of year anything from the harvest that isn't to be used is burned. The smoke is not generally so black though... " He looked over at John, who's expression was riddled with doubt. The same feeling of utter horror washed over Kashmir again. This is what had been nagging at his senses for the past two days.
"John, we must hurry."
With that, the two kicked their horses into a gallop, speeding towards the village.
Syndrome.
A scream caused John to stop in his tracks and quickly spin around. As soon as he had time to turn around, the sound of steel being drawn rang through the air. One of their warriors had drawn his blade in the middle of a commotion in the center of the group where a wolf had attacked one of the monks. The man was lying on his back, his arms crossed over his face as the wolf stood on top of his biting at the man's face. Before John could reach them, however, the man who had drawn his blade had thrust it forward, plunging it deep into the wolf's side. With a loud yelp, the wolf let off it's attack and stumbled to the side. Panting and bleeding it collapsed onto the ground, breathing heavily until at last it's last breath fled from it's body.
John ran down to the wounded man still lying on the ground. The warrior that had struck the wolf down sheathed his blade, and amidst deep breaths reported, "it came out of no where John, just attacked this man. "
John waived his hand, "no matter, this man needs attention. " The monk had deep lacerations along his arms and abdomen. The wolf had managed to tear through his robes with it's claws while scoring several bites on the man's arms.
Arriving at John's side Kashmir kneeled next to the man, surveying his wounds. "How's it look, Kash? "
Kashmir reached his hands out, touching the man's cuts on his stomach. The monk squirmed in pain. "They're not beyond repair, but only just. He is lucky." His hands over the man's body, Kashmir began to hum in tones, softly. With no visual indication of what was happening, the man's wounds began to glow white. Nothing much happened at first, until he started screaming in pain. John and the other warrior each held the man down to prevent him from further injuring himself. His wounds began to emit a fine white steam as Kashmir's magic cauterized them shut. It was a painful process, however, it was life saving in every instance John had ever seen it used.
Kashmir nodded when his task was done. "Bandage him, as the wounds may yet bleed. He will be well enough to walk in an hour or two though, the wounds weren't deep enough to cause severe damage. " The wounded monk grabbed Kashmir's hand and looked at him sternly. "Thank you, priest." was all he said before lying his head down on the ground.
Kashmir smiled and nodded. "Rest for a bit, drink some tea and eat. You will recover before long. " He stood up and left the man's side to address the crowd that had gathered. "All is well, everyone. Take a break for now, our pace has been strenuous. Eat, drink, and rest. We will continue in a couple hours. "
The crowd dispersed as the people search for a place to sit and rest their legs, talking amongst themselves about what had just taken place. John left the monk's side as well and walked over to Kashmir, placing a hand softly on his shoulder.
Kashmir turned around and smiled.
"I am sorry, my friend, for my-"
Kashmir cut him off by raising a hand. "Worry not, John. I understand your intended haste, I would have greater need of it myself were I a smarter man. "
John sighed in relief, "Were you yet able to pray? "
Nodding, Kashmir smiled again and replied, "Of course. I believe it the luck of the Gods that that man survived tonight. The wounds were worse than I had admitted to. He will be fine however. "
John returned the smile. "I am glad. Thank you, Kashmir. "
Kashmir clasped John's hand, "I am happy to be along for the ride, friend. "
Midday of the next day saw the end of the first half of their journey. John was the first to breach the summit, followed by a few of the hardier monks and priests. Kashmir arrived last, helping the monk that had been attacked the day before along the last steep incline. The view was breathtaking. There was naught on the top of the mountain aside from their party save the cool air as if breathed from the heavens themselves. This place truly was as close to the Gods as you could hope to reach. And below, through the sporadic cover of wispy clouds, could all the lands been seen. Kashmir looked over to the east, towards his home. Soon, darling. Soon I will return to your arms.
John walked up to Kashmir and slapped him hard on the back. "How about THIS! Is this not a spectacle greater than any you've witnessed before?"
Kashmir smiled warmly, "Almost, John. Almost. "
John took a deep breath, inhaling the cool air of the mountaintop. "Shall we now pray, my friend? I feel we have much to catch up on."
John ran down to the wounded man still lying on the ground. The warrior that had struck the wolf down sheathed his blade, and amidst deep breaths reported, "it came out of no where John, just attacked this man. "
John waived his hand, "no matter, this man needs attention. " The monk had deep lacerations along his arms and abdomen. The wolf had managed to tear through his robes with it's claws while scoring several bites on the man's arms.
Arriving at John's side Kashmir kneeled next to the man, surveying his wounds. "How's it look, Kash? "
Kashmir reached his hands out, touching the man's cuts on his stomach. The monk squirmed in pain. "They're not beyond repair, but only just. He is lucky." His hands over the man's body, Kashmir began to hum in tones, softly. With no visual indication of what was happening, the man's wounds began to glow white. Nothing much happened at first, until he started screaming in pain. John and the other warrior each held the man down to prevent him from further injuring himself. His wounds began to emit a fine white steam as Kashmir's magic cauterized them shut. It was a painful process, however, it was life saving in every instance John had ever seen it used.
Kashmir nodded when his task was done. "Bandage him, as the wounds may yet bleed. He will be well enough to walk in an hour or two though, the wounds weren't deep enough to cause severe damage. " The wounded monk grabbed Kashmir's hand and looked at him sternly. "Thank you, priest." was all he said before lying his head down on the ground.
Kashmir smiled and nodded. "Rest for a bit, drink some tea and eat. You will recover before long. " He stood up and left the man's side to address the crowd that had gathered. "All is well, everyone. Take a break for now, our pace has been strenuous. Eat, drink, and rest. We will continue in a couple hours. "
The crowd dispersed as the people search for a place to sit and rest their legs, talking amongst themselves about what had just taken place. John left the monk's side as well and walked over to Kashmir, placing a hand softly on his shoulder.
Kashmir turned around and smiled.
"I am sorry, my friend, for my-"
Kashmir cut him off by raising a hand. "Worry not, John. I understand your intended haste, I would have greater need of it myself were I a smarter man. "
John sighed in relief, "Were you yet able to pray? "
Nodding, Kashmir smiled again and replied, "Of course. I believe it the luck of the Gods that that man survived tonight. The wounds were worse than I had admitted to. He will be fine however. "
John returned the smile. "I am glad. Thank you, Kashmir. "
Kashmir clasped John's hand, "I am happy to be along for the ride, friend. "
Midday of the next day saw the end of the first half of their journey. John was the first to breach the summit, followed by a few of the hardier monks and priests. Kashmir arrived last, helping the monk that had been attacked the day before along the last steep incline. The view was breathtaking. There was naught on the top of the mountain aside from their party save the cool air as if breathed from the heavens themselves. This place truly was as close to the Gods as you could hope to reach. And below, through the sporadic cover of wispy clouds, could all the lands been seen. Kashmir looked over to the east, towards his home. Soon, darling. Soon I will return to your arms.
John walked up to Kashmir and slapped him hard on the back. "How about THIS! Is this not a spectacle greater than any you've witnessed before?"
Kashmir smiled warmly, "Almost, John. Almost. "
John took a deep breath, inhaling the cool air of the mountaintop. "Shall we now pray, my friend? I feel we have much to catch up on."
Syndrome.
John stood in the front of the large crowd of explorers, preparing to lead them on what they call an excursion. Their company had no name, yet they worked unanimously together. They explored the extreme reaches of the realm in search of higher religious understanding and knowledge. This particular area has been known to be home to several anomalies, thought to be caused by the Gods. Anomalies such a strange lights in the night skies and noises not known to be procured from any man nor beast. These journeys were often dangerous and requires a great amount of care along the way. Violence was not amongst their ideals, however in areas such as this it cannot be avoided at times. Many within the group were skilled warriors and mages. John was one such warrior. His skills honed in the arenas of a land which he has never spoken. His time as a slave was not one he cared to return his memory's eye toward. His freedom he had taken as an act of mercy from the Gods, for he was to die in the pits of the arena's underworld. Since his release he had traveled the world, in search of the hand that graced moved the will to see him free.
A torch in one hand, John turned towards the crowd, lifting it high above his head. His voice boomed out, reaching all ears, wanting of reception or not. "Listen up! We haven't much time. The storms of ice and snow here are not mere legend. The Gods have seen fit to bless us with a few days of relief. We must use this to our advantage! If we march fast, we will reach our goal on the summit of this peak in 2 days time, and another 2 for our return. We will begin in one hour! Pack all you will need and return to this area when ready. We will begin at the break of dawn! "
Lowering his torch, John stepped down off the outcropping of rock that had him hoisted above the heads of his many onlookers. At the bottom he met Kashmir, who was waiting expectantly. Kashmir, along with his pursuit of religious enlightenment, was a man of battle, the same as John. However his gift lie not in the harming of others, but in the healing. His gift of restorative magic had been a welcome presence these past few years. So invaluable were they, in fact, that the past several trips had seen not a single person lose their life, to any sort of attack or malady. His true purpose was not known to any, not even John, for he never spoke a word of his meaning behind his search. Though none asked, as his reasons were his own. "Kashmir! Is there something you needed before we left? "
Kashmir shook his head, smiling. "I am fine John, I just wished to know if we might pray before we departed. We could use all the favor we can get in his harsh climate. "
John looked forlorn at the request, "I am sorry Kashmir, but there is simply not enough time. We must finish preparations if we are to return safely before the weather worsens. I am truly sorry, my friend. " With that, he left Kashmir with a nod and walked towards the encampment now being torn down and packed up for the journey. He still had his own packing to do.
Upon reaching his tent, John looked back before entering to where he had left Kashmir. He still stood in the same spot as before, his head down. A pang of sorrow stabbed at John's heart.
It was noon of the next day. The progression had made good time thus far, blessed with an ever forgiving path. John stayed out front, leading the group towards the summit. Their path had taken them in a winding direction around the peak of the mountain, to avoid the need to scale. Their group was not large, only around 30 people followed behind John, however a vertical climb would be dangerous, and at the very least could slow them down significantly.
John turned his head around for a moment, peering through the faces, checking to ensure all looked well. Kashmir was near the rear of the party, where he always stayed, in order to keep an eye on everybody were something to happen. Turning his head back to the front, John pressed forward, allowing thoughts to run through his head. Thoughts of the previous night and the state in which he had left his friend. Thought they had only known each other for a small few years, Kashmir has been there alongside John since the founding of the missions. It pained John to have turned away Kashmir's request. The man took prayer very seriously, and John knew he had insulted his friend. He would have to make things right as soon as they reached -
"AUGGGHHHH!!!! "
A torch in one hand, John turned towards the crowd, lifting it high above his head. His voice boomed out, reaching all ears, wanting of reception or not. "Listen up! We haven't much time. The storms of ice and snow here are not mere legend. The Gods have seen fit to bless us with a few days of relief. We must use this to our advantage! If we march fast, we will reach our goal on the summit of this peak in 2 days time, and another 2 for our return. We will begin in one hour! Pack all you will need and return to this area when ready. We will begin at the break of dawn! "
Lowering his torch, John stepped down off the outcropping of rock that had him hoisted above the heads of his many onlookers. At the bottom he met Kashmir, who was waiting expectantly. Kashmir, along with his pursuit of religious enlightenment, was a man of battle, the same as John. However his gift lie not in the harming of others, but in the healing. His gift of restorative magic had been a welcome presence these past few years. So invaluable were they, in fact, that the past several trips had seen not a single person lose their life, to any sort of attack or malady. His true purpose was not known to any, not even John, for he never spoke a word of his meaning behind his search. Though none asked, as his reasons were his own. "Kashmir! Is there something you needed before we left? "
Kashmir shook his head, smiling. "I am fine John, I just wished to know if we might pray before we departed. We could use all the favor we can get in his harsh climate. "
John looked forlorn at the request, "I am sorry Kashmir, but there is simply not enough time. We must finish preparations if we are to return safely before the weather worsens. I am truly sorry, my friend. " With that, he left Kashmir with a nod and walked towards the encampment now being torn down and packed up for the journey. He still had his own packing to do.
Upon reaching his tent, John looked back before entering to where he had left Kashmir. He still stood in the same spot as before, his head down. A pang of sorrow stabbed at John's heart.
It was noon of the next day. The progression had made good time thus far, blessed with an ever forgiving path. John stayed out front, leading the group towards the summit. Their path had taken them in a winding direction around the peak of the mountain, to avoid the need to scale. Their group was not large, only around 30 people followed behind John, however a vertical climb would be dangerous, and at the very least could slow them down significantly.
John turned his head around for a moment, peering through the faces, checking to ensure all looked well. Kashmir was near the rear of the party, where he always stayed, in order to keep an eye on everybody were something to happen. Turning his head back to the front, John pressed forward, allowing thoughts to run through his head. Thoughts of the previous night and the state in which he had left his friend. Thought they had only known each other for a small few years, Kashmir has been there alongside John since the founding of the missions. It pained John to have turned away Kashmir's request. The man took prayer very seriously, and John knew he had insulted his friend. He would have to make things right as soon as they reached -
"AUGGGHHHH!!!! "
Syndrome.
"I won't be long, love. 'Tis a swift journey, and a small errand. The week's end shall see my home coming." Kashmir, a man of average build and fair looks yet of exceptional height, stood on his front door step. A slight breeze gently pushing his black, smooth hair across his bronzed face. He stood facing the only woman he need know in his life. His wife was a gift from the Gods that defied all reasoning. Beyond the intelligence allowed most human beings, beauty that he believes makes the days longer, loyalty that could cause a hound to doubt his service, and a humor that jackal's would envy. He could endure the curses of his life if she remained his companion.
She smiled at him, her features marred by perfection. "Your Gods that you pursue, will land you in trouble one of these days my husband. Theirs is not a power to take lightly. " As she had warned him countless times before. Kashmir smiled back, "In this, and this only, I consider your thoughts astray. They do so gift us with happiness. "
At this, a look of sadness crossed her eyes as she brought a hand to her belly. "But they do yet curse us in other ways. Forget that not, dear. "
Taking her hands, he comforted her as well as he could. "The fault lies not with you, 'tis I that bear the curse which holds a child from our arms. "
With a kiss on her lips he said, "Perhaps before my trip is through, the God's will have realized that fact. " Returning the smile to her face.
"Then with bated breath it is that I await your return. "
"I must leave with haste then, lest you wait too long to remember. " With another kiss, he released her hands and turned away down his steps and to his horse that awaited his presence at the bottom. The horses saddle was laden with supplies for his journey. Though it was short, it would be taxing for he must travel into the mountains to the west. The arduous trek required ample preparation. Mounting the horse turned towards his wife and returned the wave she bid him farewell with.
Turning on his steed he set off, leaving his wife and his modest country-side home behind him. The sun just barely having risen greeted his skin warmly.
"KASHMIR! "
He barely had time to dismount his horse than he was embraced in a hug unmatched by any bear. Laughing he returned the hug, "John! I had not thought to see you here on this excursion, was it not only a fortnight ago your wife gave birth? "
Breaking their grasp on each other John nodded, "Yes yes, but Sam can well take care of the little bastard. She has had experience in this, you know! " John newborn isn't their first and most likely not their last, for seven others have preceded the most recent. Their love for children keeps the whole lot of them well cared for, however.
Kashmir chuckled, "I suppose your right. Mayhap the two of you could give me some well heeded advice! "
John slapped Kashmir on the shoulder and laughed, "The only advice you need lies here, my friend. In this mountain. " Beyond his now outstretched arm, the whole of the mountainside lie before them. The wind was chill and the white of the snow reflected brightly the sun's midday gaze. It had taken Kashmir merely two days and nights to reach the destination. The remainder of the expedition were not to arrive until the next day. John's early arrival was a welcome surprise. "Of that you are correct, John, I do pray for our success here in the coming days. "
John nodded his agreement, "Shall we begin to set up the camp? We've a lot of work to do before we can set out. We may as well ready the area for the rest of the group. "
Nodding, Kashmir turned back to his horse and began unpacking the required supplies.
She smiled at him, her features marred by perfection. "Your Gods that you pursue, will land you in trouble one of these days my husband. Theirs is not a power to take lightly. " As she had warned him countless times before. Kashmir smiled back, "In this, and this only, I consider your thoughts astray. They do so gift us with happiness. "
At this, a look of sadness crossed her eyes as she brought a hand to her belly. "But they do yet curse us in other ways. Forget that not, dear. "
Taking her hands, he comforted her as well as he could. "The fault lies not with you, 'tis I that bear the curse which holds a child from our arms. "
With a kiss on her lips he said, "Perhaps before my trip is through, the God's will have realized that fact. " Returning the smile to her face.
"Then with bated breath it is that I await your return. "
"I must leave with haste then, lest you wait too long to remember. " With another kiss, he released her hands and turned away down his steps and to his horse that awaited his presence at the bottom. The horses saddle was laden with supplies for his journey. Though it was short, it would be taxing for he must travel into the mountains to the west. The arduous trek required ample preparation. Mounting the horse turned towards his wife and returned the wave she bid him farewell with.
Turning on his steed he set off, leaving his wife and his modest country-side home behind him. The sun just barely having risen greeted his skin warmly.
"KASHMIR! "
He barely had time to dismount his horse than he was embraced in a hug unmatched by any bear. Laughing he returned the hug, "John! I had not thought to see you here on this excursion, was it not only a fortnight ago your wife gave birth? "
Breaking their grasp on each other John nodded, "Yes yes, but Sam can well take care of the little bastard. She has had experience in this, you know! " John newborn isn't their first and most likely not their last, for seven others have preceded the most recent. Their love for children keeps the whole lot of them well cared for, however.
Kashmir chuckled, "I suppose your right. Mayhap the two of you could give me some well heeded advice! "
John slapped Kashmir on the shoulder and laughed, "The only advice you need lies here, my friend. In this mountain. " Beyond his now outstretched arm, the whole of the mountainside lie before them. The wind was chill and the white of the snow reflected brightly the sun's midday gaze. It had taken Kashmir merely two days and nights to reach the destination. The remainder of the expedition were not to arrive until the next day. John's early arrival was a welcome surprise. "Of that you are correct, John, I do pray for our success here in the coming days. "
John nodded his agreement, "Shall we begin to set up the camp? We've a lot of work to do before we can set out. We may as well ready the area for the rest of the group. "
Nodding, Kashmir turned back to his horse and began unpacking the required supplies.
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