by
Joel Levy
A citizen living in one of Brocalinde 's major towns might very well live out his life and die without ever seeing a sword drawn in anger. Dueling was restricted to quarterstaff bouts in the exercise grounds outside of town. “Take it outside boys” was the rule, and ruinous fines and weeks in the stocks enforced the rule. Life in a town was hardly the stuff of sagas. We have therefore focused upon the Morthelm/Alpein family, whose life in exile was never dull. We shall now branch out and follow the fortunes of the Paladins of Sif , more traditional heroic good girls as they hunt vampires and other unsavory denizens of the Forest of Brocalinde.
Somewhere Deep in the Forest of Brocalinde
A dead tree crashed down in front of the war patrol, partially blocking the trail. Ogres , howling with glee, set the wood ablaze with torches. Others made obscene gestures with their exposed body parts. The monsters put one in mind of teenage delinquents. They had idiotically ruined their own ambush and warned the human fighters.
The woman in the silvered armor passed her lance, useless in the forest, to her squire and drew a single bladed axe from its holster on her saddle. Forty knights followed her as she rode straight ahead into the ambush. An ogre threw a boulder at least a foot in diameter at her head. The rock missed as she bent over the horse's neck and kicked it into a charge. The axe struck the ogre's head a glancing blow. The creature howled with pain and ran away.
An ogre shaman bearing the red axe badge of his god began chanting a spell. The Valkyrie hurled her axe, which buried itself in the shaman's back. Raquel Druscard drew her broadsword “Silver Dragon” and set about some serious slaughter. Ogres are big and slow. Most carry spiked clubs or mauls. They were no match for the speed and ferocity of well-trained human fighters on heavy warhorses . Wooden mauls and clubs were no match for swords and battle-axes of tempered steel. The ogres still left on their feet ran away crying and cursing. The battle had been the third ambush by monsters that week.
A letter from Kitric Alpein , hand-delivered to King Drogo Mac Alpein of Calleva
To my royal and distant cousin and clan chief, my greetings and respect.
Answering your request for aid, Lord Arkruel Morthelm and the war masters and mages of the Black Manor have wiped out the entire force of cannibal raiders. The bearer of this letter, Ginger Sadowa , destroyed all three vampires who led them. In this endeavor, we have suffered grievously. Lord Roland Sorley was vaporized along with his opponent when he smashed a witch's rod of power. My grandsire suffered a massive heart attack from the stress of his personal battle with the King Vampyre . Lord Arkruel now faces a long period of convalescence.
I extend, to your majesty, your queen and as many members of your court as care to attend, an invitation to attend my wedding to Lady Georginna Trask at high summer.
Arrangements have been made for an opulent barge to transport your party up river from Brocalinde Port. Your presence would mean so much to all of us but especially to the Lady Olindara Alpein . Despite her many evil deeds, she was always a good wife to my father Gregor Alpein and they were very happy together. The old witch is a shameless social climber and your attendance would please her very much.
As a loyal member of clan Mac Alpein -- how quaint and touching that you still use the prefix instead of merely calling yourself Drogo Alpein in the modern manner -- it is my sad duty to bring to your attention a continuing crime against your majesty which my spy in your court has uncovered. In brief, your first minister has been looting your treasury to sustain his opulent life style, which is the talk of the province. Your fiscal position is shaky to say the best. Instead of the peaceful golden years you deserve, your majesties will suffer the indignities of bankruptcy and destitution.
Your crown of silver set with emeralds is already in pawn to the jeweler's guild. Unfortunately, the Morthelm family is about to drop a sizable cache of emeralds onto the market. Tragically, your crown jewels will lose much of their value. Should the guild happen to learn of the impending sale of emeralds, they will undoubtedly seize your crown jewels to sell before the market in emeralds takes a nosedive .
I am sending to your majesties the Black Manor's own torturer to interview your first minister and his family with a view to obtaining a full confession of their treason. Hopefully some of them will prove stubborn so that our torturer can practice his trade. It is so distressing to a man on his career path, or any technical career path for that matter, to lack good, challenging work.
On a happier note, I believe that due to the threat still posed by the King Vampyre Corollus, it may be time to restore a single monarchy to our unhappy province. Who better to become a constitutional monarch than you! Please forgive my arrogance, but rest assured that the Lords of Darkness possess the money and the armed force to place you on the throne. The Lady Georginna, my fiancé, and Lord Arkruel have bred many savage monsters. It was my grandsire 's intention to conquer the province with mages and war masters mounted upon savage carnivorous beasts. Needless to say, I have no such intention. I am, however, continuing the breeding program for hyanadons, Raptors and giant insects. Any city lord who spurns our invitation to join a united Brocalinde would risk a devastating attack. Which attack, thank the goddesses, I would only set in motion upon the direst provocation.
In closing, let me call your attention to my sister Rienna, a very pretty and refined young lady. The absence, due to our life in exile, of other young ladies and lads of her own class to become her friends and possible suitors is distressing to my mother and to me. Would you consider taking her into your court as your ward until she finds a worthy husband? A childless couple such as yourselves might even consider adopting a sweet girl such as Rienna Alpein as your daughter and heir. This would ensure the orderly continuation of Mac Alpein rule over this land. In return for this favor, my grandfather and myself would undertake to support your throne both financially and militarily. She could even aid your majesties with the labors of a constitutional monarch such as leading parades and crowning strawberry festival queens. Looking forward so much to seeing you at the wedding. Kitric Morthelm Alpein…
Kitric turned to Ginger Sadowa and handed her the letter. “Be sure that the King and Queen of Calleva understand that if they are not at the wedding I will bankrupt them and take their kingdom. Use the iron fist in the velvet glove approach. I believe military and economic blackmail can be even more satisfying than raiding and killing enemies. After all, think how many people commit suicide after financial disaster. Death is preferable to a life of poverty and degradation to many people. Blackmail is definitely the future of politics. Wars are so last millennium. The entire concept of riding up to someone's castle screaming and breaking gates, throwing oil soaked torches on the roof and that sort of thing is pretty juvenile when you think about it. The world is changing and we shall evolve with it.”
The world may change but assassins will always be needed,” Ginger responded.
Return to the fortunes of the Valkyrie and her war party
After three days of prayer in the Temple of Sif, goddess of life, Raquel Druscard had led her mixed force of Paladins, squires and volunteers into the forest. The party had vowed to destroy a tribe of half-elf cannibals led by three vampires. The Valkyrie had made a personal vow to destroy all three vampires. Her broadsword had been blessed by the high priestess of Sif. Whatever, or whoever, she beheaded with the blade stayed dead.
Her war party included two paladins of Hel, Goddess of Death and enemy of all undead. That evening they laid a trap and captured a half-elf scout alive. Razor and Nikador the Merciless had hung the prisoner upside down and pulled out his fingernails one by one to encourage his cooperation. Nikador had, the year before, lost an arm and one side of his face when two ogres tried to eat him alive. The experience had not improved his appearance, nor his disposition. The half-elf eventually disclosed that the vampires' lair was a crypt beneath a ruined tower twenty miles to the southeast.
The Valkyrie could not approve of the torture of prisoners, but she was grateful to finally get a break on a search which seemed doomed to failure. Shrugging off nuisance attacks by ogres and minotaurs , she led her war band toward the tower.
At last, the Valkyrie led her warhorse out of the forest and took a long look at the tower they had been seeking. Following close behind her was Razor, leading their bloodied prisoner. Razor saw that the half-elf captive had led them honestly to the tower they sought. She finally gave him the gift he had been begging for since Nikador the Merciless had begun to question him: She took out her razors, blessed by a priestess of Hel, and slit his throat.
The ruined tower rested lopsidedly upon a small hill surrounded by swamp and tag alder thickets. As the war patrol moved into sight, a dozen arrows flew in its general direction.
A few half-elves jumped from the walls and ran for cover in the tag alder. Razor led the charge through the broken front gate. Blood splashed about as axes and swords wielded by the leading knights cut down the half-elves that tried to hold the gateway. The Valkyrie entered, her magical broadsword in hand, but the fighting had ended. A hidden stairwell was uncovered, leading far down under the tower. The stairs descended into a crypt containing three coffins filled only with dirt and bugs. The vampires were not at home.
The clear notes of a horn blowing the call to arms echoed faintly down the stair and into the crypt. The Valkyrie raced back up the stairs and out the front door. Coming out of the forest was an army of about 500 half-elves and 100 minotaurs .
At the Black Manor
“She is the most beautiful, and the deadliest, creature I have ever seen,” Kitric told Georginna. They were standing outside a paddock containing a pure bred raptor sixteen feet in length and standing man high at the shoulder. The snakelike neck and head appeared slight compared with the massive armored body. When the creature opened its mouth and roared it displayed powerful jaws and row after row of dagger teeth.
“It was a labor of love,” Georginna responded and kissed him. “She is the very first purebred raptor. Arkruel and I brought its bones and essence back from the ancient beginnings of the world to be your war steed. A bit of human brain fluid, yours and mine, has been injected into her brain. The three of us are now a hunting pack. That is the only sort of bond a raptor knows. Name her now to cement the bond.”
“Her name is Traveler,” he announced. “She has come a long way.”
“Lord Arkruel intended to create a hunting pack of a hundred raptors like her to carry his war masters and mages in a war of conquest over all Brocalinde ,” Kitric continued. “Those mad plans of war are finished now since my grandfather's heart attack. I will lead no wars against my own province and people. All I want to do is pursue and destroy the King Vampyre Corollus and make love to you again and again. Let's continue resurrecting and breeding these creatures anyway. They are so damned beautiful!”
Lady Olindara had swallowed her chagrin at Kitric 's engagement after the vampire attack. Even Olindara never considered breaking the unfortunate betrothal of Georginna and Kitric in the temple of Sif . The Morthelm family were evil witches and necromancers, not heretics. She had become positively bubbly with happiness when she heard that the King and Queen of Calleva and several other city lords would attend the wedding.
Rienna was excitedly ordering a new wardrobe for her stay at Calleva as the Queen's ward. “Now mother won't have to worry all the time that I will get knocked up by some groom or house servant.” She had not been told that it was likely that she would someday become Queen of the entire Province of Brocalinde .
Rooms within the manor itself were set aside for Arkruel and protected by powerful spells. No one except Olindara and Kitric ever entered this apartment for the next two years. Many people wondered if Lord Arkruel were dead, still alive, or undead . Lord Arkruel was performing the rituals, which over the course of several years would, if successful, turn him into a Liche -- one of the living dead. King Vampyre and Liche are unique among all the undead . They have never truly died, but have gone from life direct to undeath . They retain all the memories and arcane abilities they commanded in life.
Following intense spiritual preparation, Arkruel 's soul would be transferred to a hyena cub for safekeeping. His heart removed, he would lie in a bath of Tana leaves for months while Kitric performed the blasphemous rituals that would allow him to rise again as the living dead.
Trapped in the ruined tower
The Valkyrie ordered the squires to bring the warhorses within the tower, and to fill every container with water from a nearby pond. The bodies of the dead half-elves had already been dragged outside. She ordered these bodies thrown into the pond to foul the water.
Finally, she ordered the four youngest squires, including her own brother Galwan , to slip over the back wall and go for help. At the least, they were out of this death trap and with the aid of the Goddess, might find their way to safety.
The paladins and knights drew lots for the place of utmost danger, the open front entrance. Minotaurs armed with immense axes rushed the gate. Half-elves with bows and battle hatchets infiltrated through the alder thicket, shooting as they came.
Within the arch of the ruined gateway the fight was axe against sword. Two knights and four Minotaurs died messily. The Valkyrie prayed for power and a ball of bright flame appeared in her hand. She hurled the missile into the monsters pushing to enter the archway . The resultant flash permanently blinded a dozen attackers, and put the rest into panicked flight.
Half-elves were climbing the east wall. A single knight with a two handed sword rushed back and forth on the wall crushing skulls and slicing off limbs. An arrow smashed through his teeth, severing his tongue. Another knight took his place. Squires helped the wounded man back into the tower and sat him up against a wall. He bled to death with a smile on his face. All alone, he had killed two dozen attackers, and the Goddess Hel would welcome him with honor.
Along the western wall, a minotaur champion lowered his horns and crashed right through the wall. A section of masonry collapsed into rubble as he charged. Half-elves followed swinging their battle hatchets. The Paladin Nikador the Merciless drove into them, thrusting and chopping with his bastard sword. He was swarmed under and literally cut to pieces by battle hatchets. His sacrifice gave the defenders time to rally and drive the attackers out. They never found Nikador 's legs. The cannibals had captured their supper but not the tower.
The minotaur champion rushed the Valkyrie, totally berserk. Raquel Druscard thrust her broadsword into his chest, only to feel the sword turned by a plate of steel hanging from the monster's neck. The minotaur scooped her up and ran for the open gateway. Razor darted from the shadows and hamstrung the monster with her Hel blessed weapons. The minotaur champion fell forward onto his knees bellowing in agony, and released the Valkyrie. Lady Raquel hacked three times with her enchanted broad sword before the monster's head came off.
The four young squires evaded the army of minotaurs and half-elves by the simple expedient of running in the opposite direction, and using the tag alder for concealment.
Their luck, or the favor of the Goddess Sif, continued when they found a stream flowing in a generally southeast direction. By following the stream they reached the riding path that follows the river Charr into Brocalinde Port.
The young men hiked for half a day along the trail. Coming around a bend in the trail, they found themselves surrounded by six strange looking creatures. This was embarrassing as well as frightening. One of the creatures spoke to them in human language. “My name is Tarloc . We are hyanadon scouts leading a war band from the Black Manor. We mean you no harm.” The creature's words were reassuring, but its reptilian snout and rows of sharp teeth were not.
A pretty girl came out of the woods and stared at them in frank admiration. “I never expected to meet four beautiful young men in the forest. Maybe I died and went to Valhalla.”
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