Qarkar Tic “Black Death!” Qarkar's ears twitched at the intrusive sound. Suddenly the sounds of battle arose once more. "Who be fool to stand 'gainst dem now?" Qarkar asked himself, while doing his best to peek out of the doorway unnoticed. Bodies lay everywhere. Those who had not made it to safety now lay pierced with arrows. Qarkar peered at the several in the guardhouse with him. Etri the fellow Gnome with his pet boar, a bespectacled human girl, the injured Faun girl, and a toad what's-it. "What ye be gaping for? Ye best be digging!" Qarkar had noticed Etri's progress halt as he peered out of the hole. "What's all the noise again?" He asked. "What do ye be thinking it be? It be battle, blood red! Another human chargin' through the gates." Qarkar felt a reckless twinge of responsibility. He needed to help the man. Whoever he was, he couldn't have come just to fight. "Ye keep diggin'. Any of you who can fight, ye come with me. I be helpin' the fool human, then we leave." He turned to the glasses-wearing woman, "Can ye look after the Faun girl, she be hurt an' frighted." Qarkar saw a flash of light, as the Faun girl shifted her grip on the satchel in her hands. So, she held the book now. Pulling his shovel from his pack, Qarkar made a mad dash from the guardhouse to where the man sat upon a steed, surrounded by the many men in brown robes. Hop-skipping slightly, Qarkar lifted several sizable stones from the cobblestone beneath his feet, and launched them into the group of robed men. Puffing with the effort, Qarkar jogged toward the man, nimbly dodging the blows from the attackers, and sending stones flying all the way. "Ye best follow me!" He called to the man, hoping he could see him from his perch upon his steed. --------------------------------------- The Mountains “Could creatures so vain and powerful as you say exist in secret my lords?” Asked the green Elementi. "Who is this?" The black spire asked, "He is not an Aged." "I have called him here, to listen." Spoke Iriel, "You have no use for his name." No use? The voice came from the brown fox If you insist. To answer the Nature Child's question, they did by no means live in secret. They lived far to the North, and their vanity was known throughout the land. So engrossed were they with their gifts, they sought to destroy the great sea of Tarlos, simply to see if they could. They would have succeeded, had we three not stepped in to stop them. To meddle with the tasks of the gods, is to bring their wrath upon oneself. The sound came from the giant whale And so they did. Grey spires of flame that stretched for miles into the heavens themselves. We creatures of the ether found ourselves drawn to those who sought to restore the imbalance. "We three destroyed them, and erased their memory from the land. Iriel was the only one of us who chose to forget the events. Yet she retains her past name..." The geyser mused. I grow impatient with you Aged. The specter wolf snarled, but Iriel silenced him. "Why?" She asked, "Why would I choose to forget such a thing?"
OOC: While waiting for others to have a chance to post in the courtyard. The Black King The Blackstone was a heavy burden to bear. To rule over Seaclaw from the citadel of his forefathers was not a task relished by Garnet Blackstone in his youth, and it was not one he enjoyed in his old age. A fortress-turned-prison the likes of which was unrivaled in the kingdom had been passed down to Garnet Blackstone. Since the foundation of Seaclaw centuries ago during the reign of Hailstone the Black-hearted, no human army had ever taken the Blackstone Citadel by force of arms. Even plague could not breach the granite walls and spires. Far below, the city of Seaclaw was withering in a slow and painful death. Tens of thousands lay in the streets, the stables, the temples, waiting to die with blood in their eyes and froth on their lips. All the while, Garnet Blackstone held his strength behind the gates of the Black City as the occupants came to call his family’s castle. A city it was, Garnet would give them that. Fresh water wells and deep stores of grain and dried meats saw the thousands of knights, retainers and guardsmen within the walls through two winters thusfar. Garnet had bought the surplus from the foreign traders that once plied the Stormy Seas on the eve of the plague’s outbreak. His ministers and bankers proclaimed it the foresight of a genius. Garnet knew better. The iron pommel of the Blackstone Sceptre was unnaturally cool in his hands, he felt. He had been waiting in the throne room of the Black City for what felt like days. Every hour passed with the tediousness of weeks while trapped within the Citadel. All the while his hands wrung themselves around the wrought iron craftsmanship of the Blackstone Sceptre, the midnight black diamond at its tip reflecting the light of the candles flickering about him. He heard rather than saw one of the great double doors at the end of the room crack open. A pair of feet scuffed across the floor. From the shadows of the hall, his eldest son Topaz Blackstone emerged to stand at attention in a lush silk shirt and gaudy black pants, his sword at his hip as always. Topaz had been one to favor the intrigues of court over the sharpness of a blade- and he was not wanting for skill there either. Garnet knew that Topaz could take all of his knights in single combat, and probably have the stomach to kill his brother Garth to boot. “You summoned me, father?” Garnet cleared his throat, his hands tightening about the scepter in his hands. “I sent for you and your sister. Where is Ruby?” Topaz grinned, his unnaturally white teeth looking far too eerie in the candlelight. “Ah- she is still in her tower, helping Sir Harlen polish his longsword. Judging from the sounds coming from her chamber, it is a very long sword indeed.” “Enough of that.” Garnet waved the rod at his eldest son. “She will be punished for her disobedience, but spare me the details.” “Then you should have spared me the pleasantries, father. It is getting late in the evening and my lady wife came calling. Surely you have not forgotten how rare it is for a wife to call a husband to bed.” Garnet frowned, not liking his son's sarcasm one bit. It reminded him too much of Garth for his own taste. “You think yourself a fool instead of a prince, now? I can find you a suit of motley if it pleases you, boy.” “I think I have better things to do instead of answering the call of a cowardly old man in the dead of night. Did you need assistance getting to the privy, father?” “His lordship needs no such assistance.” A voice smooth as silk flowed through the darkness, carrying with it the scent of lilacs and the spray of the salt sea. Topaz took a step back, retreating into the darkness as the old monk stepped out of the shadows beside Garnet, his white and charcoal colored robes swirling about the old man’s figure. With the cowl drawn over Penitent’s face, as always the only bits of skin and flesh visible were the man’s boney hands, gnarled with arthritis while a beard the color of salt and pepper hung over the old man’s face. “His lordship called you here to discuss our plans following the cleansing of Seaclaw.” Garnet squinted at the monk, Penitent. “His Lordship will speak for himself, or will have your legs taken off at the knees- holy man or not.” Penitent offered no verbal apologies, merely folding his mangled hands into one another and giving Lord Blackstone a half bow. Topaz waved his arm dismissively at the cowled monk. “I will not suffer this wretch’s company long, father. Speak and be done with me.” Penitent straightened his body, his broken hands interlocked in silent prayer. “Good-son Topaz, you wound me. You act as though I am as horrid and godless a man as your brother. Can we not put our differences aside and join our hearts in friendship?” “You have done nothing to earn my friendship save sail into port and proclaim the coming of a plague. Garth deserves all of my hatred for what he is- but since father has sent him away, I am left with you instead.” Topaz let his hand drift down to his longsword, his fingers wrapped around the hilt. “Enough!” Garnet hissed, the Blackstone swiping out at his son. “Garth is gone as you always wished. The blight on our family is no more- if the king does not kill Garth soon, then the plague will. I will not suffer his name to be spoken in these halls again. There are far more important names that need our attention. “First, is your wife in good health, my son?” Topaz grimaced. “She is. The Lady Goldleaf has proven to be most grateful for your actions to insure her survival, though she asks for news from her father daily.” “Good- see that she stays healthy and whole and completely isolated from the messengers. With only half of my landed knights alive within their own stone keeps, our alliance with the Goldleaf household is of paramount importance now more than ever.” Topaz allowed himself to stop breathing for a moment and Garnet smiled. The boy was catching on. For over a year he had raged at Garnet for sitting behind the walls of the Black City, eating and brooding and sleeping while the entire world died and the king sat his royal ass on the throne in Broan like a blind drunk, drinking and feasting to the deaths of his subjects. Gods, he was even starting to think like that creature Garth! “What are you planning, father?” Garnet pressed a finger to his lips, then waved the Blackstone, signaling Topaz to step forward. The boy did so reluctantly, but Brother Penitent made a show of giving Topaz all the space he desired. Even in the Black City, the king of Broan might have eyes and ears about. “The Blackstones have ever been the greatest of the king’s men,” Garnet whispered. “Our faith and wealth and steel have stood beside the royal line since our forefather found the Black Stone on the mountaintop and went to war with the Children Beneath the Stones. I have waited and held my temper in check, as was my duty to the crown. But two years of this blight is too long for him to do nothing. Brother Penitent insists that our family is the key to ending this plague. He is trained in the arts of the physicians along with the ministry of his faith. Like any infection of the body, the wound must be purged before it festers to the heart, or a man can sit and wait for his body to mend itself. I have waited for the plague to run its course. Fire and steel are needed now.” Topaz chuckled. “You want to march outside of Seaclaw? With an army of five-thousands at your back to face the king of Broan and all his levies? This priest has turned you mad, father.” “I mean to leave our lands with twice that number. Do not forget that our retainers still hold within their keeps as I commanded before this plague began- at Brother Penitent’s instruction, no less! The Drakes, Vapres, Hornclaws, Poachens, and Findlers all will answer my call. And let us not forget your lady wife’s family in the northlands. Ronald Goldleaf is devoted to the king, but the man practically worships his daughter. When given the choice between the oaf on the throne and the life of his only child, he will march south to join us.” “If all of us don’t drop dead from plague when we open the gates to the citadel.” “By the mercy of Remu, we have endured even on the eve of Seaclaw’s death. By morn tomorrow, the last of Seaclaw’s smallfolk will perish. Fire will break out soon after, scouring the city clean of the plague and clearing the way for your march,” Brother Penitent said. “Remu will march with us and shield us all. Do not forget the god first set foot in the mortal realm here, in the hills of Seaclaw. His presence turned the stones to diamonds and the sands to stone. The very gems of Blackstone carry the essence of my lord and god, Lord Topaz. The essence of Remu will protect your men on the march if you carry his essence with you. A gem for every man on the march, through which the Lord of Mercy will spread his power to guard your troops.” “Suicide,” Topaz growled. “You’ll kill us all.” “We will die in a month’s time anyway,” Garnet snarled back at his son. “The stores are nearly empty. We have two options now, son. We can cull the lowborn men at arms within our walls, risking life and limb for a few more months of life. Or we can strike out, cast down the false king and forage for food that can see us through the last of the plague. “Either way, in three days time we will open the gates and we will march north. And by this time next year, you will be a corpse or you will be a prince.”
"Ye best follow me!" The gnome had entirely ignored Tumblefoot. Insolent little mortal, if only his master were a bit less gracious he would have the gnome hanging by his ankles from thorny vines. But who was this the gnome was talking to? It seemed a human had entered the fray and was assailing the hooded marauders. By the look of his crest he was a noble. Finally, someone with a little common respect! Tumblefoot lept out of the tunnel and in two hops the translucent frog stood before the horse and knight. "Noble sir! These folks are in need of some aid! We must get out of the city immediately!"
