Clack…clack…clack

If it weren’t for the smoldering fires in braziers hung from the vaulted ceiling, the sound of wood on stone would be the only thing filling the massive lit hall.

Clack…clack…clack

It took even the guards a second to see where the sound was coming from. A shadow had emerged down the corridor, silhouetted against the moody night’s sky showing through the open gate. It moved slowly towards them, at a jilted gait. It was a man. The guards raised their spears as it approached.

Clack…clack…clack

“Oy! Who goes there?”

Clack…clack…clack

The figure continued its approach undaunted. Soon the light of the nearest brazier shone on a robed figure. It held its head low, obscuring its face, and walked with the aid of a gnarled staff. The plain woolen robe glistened with moisture in the dim light. It was nearly upon the two guards flanking the wooden double doors.

Clack…clack…clack

“Halt! In the name of Lord Vidalis!” The figure stopped just short of the tips of the brandished spears, but paid them no mind.

“Lord Vidalis? I must…have a word with Lord Vidalis,” croaked a sickly voice from beneath the hood.

“You ought not want to disturb the lord at such an hour, especially a beggar like yourself.” He inched the tip of his spear even closer, pressing against the rough fabric of the robes. Still, the figure did not move.

“Disturb?” It stepped forward, letting the tip of the spear sink deep into the robes. The tip crunched and cracked its way as the figure continued walking towards the guard, and it soon emerged on the other side with a sickening tear. The robed figure stood inches away from the guard’s scaly green snout, and peered deep into his widened eyes. “I plan to do that very thing.”

***

Lord Thom Vidalis sat atop his throne in silence, as he had done many a night before. He had found sleep a scarce commodity as of late, due in no small part to the thoughts that always kept him company. Lately, thoughts of war. Pelor’s Hope had proven a formidable foe, and each lord within its Council of Eight led a legion on the warpath. The losses were mounting.

War had always disturbed Thom. He swore to always uphold the will of the people however, and war with Pelor’s Hope was an inevitability. Thom had always stayed far from combat, leaving the minutiae of military planning to his capable generals in the field. Except now they were on the defensive, and a quick end to the combat had failed.

Creeeeeak

The enormous wooden door across the room swung open.

“Ah, it is so good to finally meet you, dragonborn.”

“And who exactly are you? It seems I may need to have a word with my guards about unwanted visitors.”



“Oh I do believe they have learned their lesson. I am only here to speak with you, Lord Thom Vidalis” The hooded figure tossed two halves of a splintered spear at the foot of the throne.

“You seem to know a good deal about me,” Thom said unperturbed. “Yet I know nothing of you. Come, reveal yourself to me. There is nothing to hide if you are an emissary of peace.”

“Peace…ah…yes. Such a quaint notion. Peace, that is what you seek.” The figure shuffled forward, now standing in front of the shattered spear. “There shall be peace…but first, there will be blood.”



“I grow tired of bloodshed. Does not the farmer deserve the peace to till his fields? Or the mother the peace to raise her young? Even the beggar, the peace to earn his whatever life he can manage? Blood is not needed for such truths!” Thom rose from his throne, and descended the steps to the figure.

Bloooood…I must drink….

“What? Who was that?” Thom snapped his head left and right, but it was only he and the robed figure in the cavernous room.

“The answer…the answer to your problem, Lord Vidalis. But only if you accept it. Otherwise, I will have no problem destroying you.” A bony, gnarled hand emerged, and flipped back the hood of the robe. It revealed the grotesque face of a man. The left side of his face had suffered severe burns, and no hair grew where it was expected. The right side seemed to have suffered multiple sores and cuts that had healed and been reopened a number of times, including a deep gash across his milky white eye. Wispy, jet black hair grew long and unkempt, sticking to scabs of dried blood.

“Tell me who you are before I have you arrested!” Demanded Thom, who was now nearly face to face with the hobbled man, his snout tinged blue.

“Your savior, Thom the dragonborn. Or perhaps, your demise.” He sneered, his mouth crackling open to a rotten smile.

Bloooood…I need…bloood…

“And that is your answer.” The man reached deep into his robe, and produced a scabbard that glistened in the low light. “Come…realize your destiny.” He held the scabbard in both hands, and kneeled before Thom. The hilt was a striking golden mouth opened wide towards the blade itself, with rubies for eyes.

Your destinyyyy….is bloooood…

Thom felt an incredible urge to touch the weapon. It stirred deep inside. All his training, his degree from a liberal arts college, his thesis on the the Pax Ichtaka, his squeamishness towards blood…it all seemed to melt away as he stared at the blade. He knew what must be done. In one swift motion, he whipped the sword from the scabbard and held it forward. It sparkled red in the dim room.

Yesss…at last…my master…

“Go forth…Lord Vidalis. Go forth and slay your foes!”

“Oh ya, totally gonna get in on that action.” Thom continued to admire the blade, paying the man no mind.

I need blooood…the bloood of your enemiesss…

“Blood huh. Well lets see here…” Thom looked around. No blood could be found. Except for the man before him. “Will that do?” Thom whispered to the sword.

Yeeeesssss…

In one fell swoop, Thom pulled the sword back and launched it forward, driving the blade into the chest of the man. It exploded out of his back in a spurt of viscera, and the man’s one good eye opened wide. “No…why…”

“Sorry bro.” Thom let the man crumple before him as he withdrew the blade. He made no attempt to clean it off as he ascended the stairs to the throne.

War continued to be on his mind. A war he planned to make his bitch.

To be continued…