The group of five companions rode through the town gates chatting amiably amongst themselves. Unobserved, save for the old woman in front of her cottage. She had seen many of those seeking adventure pass through the gates of town of Marchande. This group might be the ones she was waiting for.
The old
woman turned and grabbed a quill and paper from the table beside her door.
Scrawling "Your sister's name is Sinead. You still hunt her
killer" on the paper. She barked out "Andrei!" A small boy
came scurrying around from in back of her humble hut. "Tell the big
man in the armor, that just got a room at the Dark Rose who sent this" The
young boy took off at a run down the dirt street towards the other end of town.
Lord Tobias Nathaniel Bishop Marchande, third hereditary Duke of
Marchande, stared listlessly out the tower window. So many responsibilities
weighed on his mind. He missed days past when he was free in the world. He and
his companions roamed the world seeking out adventure and danger. "I should
never have taken the land grant." He said to himself looking
upon the sword in it's well worn scabbard propped up in the corner of his
library.
The small boy stumbled up to the front door of the inn. Huffing
and puffing from the effort of running across town he says "Mister...
Milady Rowena Bloodrose DeAmberville asked me to give you this." He
handed the large red headed man a scrap of parchment.
"Where
is your mistress, little man?' The armored man asked the boy. "She is in
her hut by the corrals sir."
"Take me to her please." It was almost comedic, the sight of a six
foot six inch man following a boy that barely came up to his waist.
The duo set off at a brisk walk towards the old woman's home.
Many of the tavern denizens could only stare at the pair of tall
strangely dressed women as they took seats across from one another in the dimly
lit common room. "Why are we here?" asked thee rougher looking of the
two sisters. "Because Liam is looking for the monster that slew his sister
and father. Quit asking May." Missy replied in obvious annoyance.
"You've asked me that question every day, sometimes twice a day for three
weeks now." the half-elven sisters continued their conversation in low
tones, until a leather clad, slightly built elf plopped down at the end of the
table. "Find us any decent work Ferix?" May asked of the new arrival.
"Nothing that won't require judicious use of steel and brawn." The
elf responded. "I'm always up for a good fight" Missy's sister broke
in, "May we're supposed to be searching for the lich, not running off and
getting in fights at every turn" Missy has always struggled to keep her
sister's wilder urges in check, when they were not at home in their mountain
village. "Liam is dad's oldest friend. We BOTH promised dad we would help
him."
May leaned in close to the table and asked in hushed tones "Have you guys
seen Paladras?" "Not since we got to town, he tied off his horse and
disappeared." Ferix looked around nervously "Typical, half dragons
are sneaky." The three companions continued talking while they waited for
their friend to return.
The armored warrior almost had to crawl through the tiny door to
the witch's hut. Once inside, he stood up to his full height. The witch looked
impressed. "If anyone can destroy the evil in the valley, it must be
you." she mused. "How did you know my sister's name?" Liam eyed
the old woman warily. As he did anyone that wielded the mysterious powers. Yes,
his god answered his prayers, but he still did not fully trust arcane practitioners.
"It is a gift given to me by virtue of my bloodline."
The witch could sense the large man's distrust. "I am distantly related to
the monster." She had never confided in anyone, but felt that this warrior
of the heavens could actually defeat the evil that has terrorized her homeland
for so long. "You may want to sit Liam, this is quite a long tale."
The witch sat down next to her fireplace and gestured to a chair opposite.
"This tale comes from my Grandmother's grandmother. The
original Lord of the Valley, Jean Marc D'Amberville, had a prosperous life in
the valley. He and his kin have spread out and thrived. He and his wife had
five children.
As the Fates are fickle, Jean Marc's happiness did not
last. His wife died suddenly making him distraught and bitter towards the
world. Jean Marc, being not happy with the Fates, started studying the Arcane
arts to master the Fates and prevent and further trauma to his family.
Jean Marc spent many years studying the Arcane arts. He
called on many supernatural entities to aid him. Some of them were only
appearing to assist him, some were genuinely interested in helping. During his
time of studying, Jean Marc met Androgoras. She was beautiful, talented in the
arcane arts, and willing to assist Jean Marc. It did no take long for
Androgoras to fall in love with Jean Marc, if she had only known.
What Androgoras did not know, is that Jean Marc was being
courted by dark powers. What Jean Marc did not know, is that Androgoras was a
Sphinx. It was only after Androgoras revealed her true nature that the Dark
powers promised Jean Marc limitless power, if he would sacrifice the powerful
being that loved him.
Jean Marc was so blinded by visions of power, he didn't
hesitate to betray Androgoras. Jean Marc subdued her and dragged her to a cave
at the head of the valley. There he performed the dark rites and rituals meant
to allow the dark powers to bestow the infernal gifts upon him. He was not
prepared for the events that followed.
With her dying breath, Androgoras cursed Jean Marc. Not only
did the curse afflict Jean Marc, it afflicted all the D'Amberville children,
save the youngest child of his youngest daughter, my grandmother's grandmother.
Thus she did leave a way for her love to be returned to the light of truth.
The tainted blood will be redeemed, by true blood that is yet unseen.
My grandmother's grandmother was told that couplet by the
maid that smuggled her out of the valley, just before the curse took her. The
maid worked for the youngest of the D'Amberville daughters, Ophelia. A darkness
of 500 years descended on the valley, and it is still there to this day. It was
at that time, the Bloodroses started taking over the valley. Now they are
everywhere. These roses seek out and drink blood.
So many adventurers have forayed into
the valley over the years, none have returned.
As promised
Champion, I will name the monster that murdered your sister. Elizabeth, the
oldest of Jean Marc's daughters, was cursed to roam the eternal night of
Bloodrose Valley as a Vampire. It was she that murdered your sister."
The old woman poked idly at the small fire in her hearth and
awaited a word from the stunned knight sitting across the room from her.
Paladras
watched his companions tie up their horses, and wander off. Kalahr Ian spoke
briefly with a small kalahr and set off after it at a brisk pace. The Mountain
twins headed towards the tavern, and the Leaf-Kin disappeared into the crowd of
travelers wandering through the market.
Paladras had heard the whispers of Diaphasia as soon as they had entered the
Anidir forests. He decided to go read the signs, to see what Diaphasia was
warning him about.
Opening his eyes, he touches the third finger of his right hand to his temple
and invokes his draconic blood.
The breeze carried the scents of the town. Any concentration of kalar smelled
like raw meat, stone, and metal. The breeze shifted to come from the north.
That's when he smelled it. Ancient dust and the many-legs. Paladras briefly
remembered the stories his brood mother had told he and his siblings. His clan
had rooted out and eradicated a nest of many-legs while he was still playing
with his own egg shards in his clan home.Scanning the horizon to the northeast
he saw an intermittent flickering highlighting a mountain far in the distance.
Paladras stretched out with all his hereditary senses. Draconic blood affords
those that posses it an affinity to their native environment. Paladras had been
blooded in the forests of his homeland. He felt, more than saw that the flickering
was the presence of evil finally releasing it's hold on the mountain. The
many-legs had been vanquished years before, but the evil they tried to invoke
clung to the mountain.
Surely Diaphasia wasn't trying to warn him about a long dead nest. So what was
it?
Paladras tucked his wings under his robes, then pulled his hood up. Hissing the
incantation for unobtrusive presence, he headed back towards the tavern to talk
to the Mountain twins. Misssy was a child of the World spirit, she might see
something he could not.
*** *** *** ***
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***
The Forest kin visibly paled when Paladras appeared next to him. "Alright
Fangface, you are going to teach me that one day."
Paladras popped a few pimka fruit in his mouth and hissed out some laughter.
"Kasssz, I told you. Ssorsscery is
easy for Wyrmkin. Dragons are made of magic."
Paladras turned and started hissing in low tones with one of the Half elf
sisters.
"Mizzy, there is an air of unrest in the forest, when you are able to
spare a moment, please accompany me so that we might narrow down the
cause."
"That can't be a good thing. Should we go get Ian?"
