GLORM
It was their third day on the march, or more accurately, their third night. Most of them had settled in for the night, with the exception of the Don, who was on watch, and Delrin, who was out gathering information.
Further discussions with the farmer had left them with a better understanding of the area's geography, and they realized they had a major river to cross to reach Cherifyr. Fortunately, another larger fishing village, Heraloon, was sixteen days march north. Heraloon was large enough and close enough to Cherifyr to have local ships that made the trip regularly.
Krinn had used her umbrella spell this evening. It was the first time; they were still in warmer part of summer, and rain was an infrequent visitor. The only one not taking advantage of it was Delrin. He was a ways out, talking with the wolves again. Glorm found it somewhat distasteful, but Delrin was convinced that if there were troops in the area, the wolves would know about it.
Glorm spent his time on more practical matters. Pretending to rest under his heavy blankets, he slowly fingered the two gems, one emerald and one sapphire. He had been experimenting with them since just before leaving Negrata. Slowly, he brought his hands together, each holding one of the gems. As they approached within a foot or so of one another, he felt the tingling start in his hands and arms. By the time they were an inch away, it was intense enough to be almost painful, and he saw the glimmerings of a gentle glow beginning. He quickly moved his arms apart, lest the glow alert others to his actions.
It was definitely getting stronger. The first few times he had done this, even bringing the stones together did just enough to let him know that these were not simple gems. He didn't believe it had anything to do with time, or location. He had to be getting more attuned with the stones. But what did it mean?
Struck with a sudden thought, he brought his arms closer again, until the odd tingling was strong but bearable. He rotated his arms. There was a noticeable change in the strength of the tingling. There were peaks and valleys, but the feeling was almost nonexistent when he held the stones aligned such that one was north and the other south. A direction? To what?
Suddenly, Glorm became very excited. What else could it be but a treasure? What he had was a compass that pointed to something. Who would leave an enchanted compass that didn't point to something valuable. Treasure! Glorm gleefully slammed his fist into his other hand.
There was a sudden, startling thud. Glorm rose quickly as the Don cried out an alarm. Everyone was rising, the ring of steel weapons and shields spoiling the quiet patter of rain. Glorm looked around for trouble, but there was nothing other than his companions. The Don called out. "It's OK, folks, you can settle down. Glorm, I'm afraid your donkey had a heart attack. You must have had too much stuff loaded on the poor animal." Sure enough, the pack animal was on its side, and clearly dead. Glorm cursed his luck. He would have to wheedle El Sid into letting him use Johnny Rotten, the black stallion, to carry his goods. And El Sid did not like walking in what was undoubtedly going to be a muddy trail tomorrow.
Still, Glorm felt buoyed up with a confidence that seemed oddly out of sorts with the situation. He would convince the Sid tomorrow. Somehow, he just knew it.
Glorm was about to slam his fist into his hand again when he paused. The gems. Was there some correlation between the gems and the death of his pack mule? As confident as he had felt a moment ago, doubt began to creep in. The mule was of no real consequence in the greater scheme of things, but its death hinted at real power trapped in the two stones. The fire he had seen in the gems now burned in Glorm's heart. These stones were not only a thing of great beauty and worth, but also power; power which would help Glorm avenge the death of his family! The group must travel north. The first stone had been found near his homeland, and it seemed reasonable that others would be there as well... This was good as the group was already traveling to the north. The problem was to go north, meant crossing Urakai territory. Glorm knew the group could not hope to cut a bloody swath through their lands, but that was what his heart yearned to do. Somehow he must control his blood lust, so the party could slip in, grab the gems and leave. Of course there would be the inevitable blood bath or two; he just hoped that would be enough to keep his desire for revenge in check.
How to enlist the rest of the party towards his ends. The Urakai ghost had warned against using the gems. Others in the party might take the word of an Urakai as meaningful... Ever since the strange Sa Kajok ceremony, Glorm carried a fair bit of extra sway in the group, and now that Tristan was gone, everyone looked to El Sid and Glorm as the parties leaders. If Glorm could enlist El Sid in his plans, the rest of the party would follow. Sid was a slippery one, but at least he wouldn't be squeemish when it came to using the gems. After some thought Glorm realized the answer was simple. Sid needed an angle to return to Salta and take on the dastards in Bradford hold. The powers locked in the Blackheart stones would do the trick nicely.
EL SID
The Don shook his head in disgust. Delrin shook his head in disgust. And Johnny Rotten, the Sid's massive warhorse, shook his head in disgust. Dead mule. Dead. As in a former mule. As in a passed mule. As in a *dead* mule. Johnny eyed the mule's bulging panniers and looked around for another sucker. No candidates came into view. He eyed El Sid, who returned his look. Then Johnny snorted, slowly rounded on Glorm the Dwarf, and even more slowly (and deliberately) began to advance.
Glorm was still looking askance at his previously healthy, in the prime of its life, mule. His now *dead* mule. "Uh-oh," he thought to himself. The Sid's arm dropped meaningfully around his shoulders. "Friend Dwarf" offered the Sid, "Come, let's walk. Come, let's *talk*." Glorm mentally cringed. He screwed an open, innocent look on his face and looked up into the impassive face of the Saltan. "Must have gotten into some loco weed. Do you think we could pack my belongings on your horse, Lord Sid? It would be a shame to have to abandon all that good tabac and brandy, don't you think? They're needed trade goods, don't you think?"
A massive glob of hot, wet, stinking slobber bucketed down onto Glorm's head. A very hot blast of fetid horse breath buffeted his shoulders. Glorm looked up. And up. Nineteen hands worth up. He had never noticed before that the Sid's black horse had *red* eyes. Now he did. "Uh-oh," he thought.
As Fuji repeatedly kicked the mule carcass in disgust and began to butcher it, Sid ushered Glorm a distance from the camp. "Ah, Glorm. Do you recall several days ago when you asked me if I thought it was a good idea to experiment with a certain two gems, both of which were left in your possession for "safekeeping"? Do you remember that I was of the opinion that, as we were in reduced party and fiscal strength, a rather *fragile* party and fiscal strength, and seeing as how we were in the *middle of nowhere*, that I thought this was an *inopportune* time to examine said stones?? That I suggested that we might have a hard time dealing with any unforeseen *mishaps*. Hmmm??"
"Er, ah, I mean that, ah, yes you did mention some, ah, minor reservations, regarding the matter, er, ah, yes. Why?"
"Why."
"Er, ah, yes, ah, why?"
"Glorm."
"But, ah, that is to say, ah, that, ah..."
"Glorm."
"Well, ah, yeah...but did 'ya SEE, did 'ya SEE!"
"Glorm."
"But, but..."
"Glorm."
"Yeah...All right...Fine...Sure...OK. Who could have known?"
"No more."
"No more?"
"No more."
"All right. No more."
"Should I hold onto one of the gems myself?"
"No."
"No?"
"No. No, that won't be necessary."
"Fine, I'm glad we *both* agree. *This* time."
The two men continued to walk a short distance more. Then the Sid turned and bent until he was eye to eye with the shorter man. Not in condescension (if the pun is forgivable), but in intensity. "Because, Glorm, the next time that could be one of *us*. And we don't have the resources to remedy that happening to one of us. I won't let that happen to Dom. I *can't* let that happen to *me*."
Glorm then recalled that discussion he had had with the Saltan when they had first obtain the gem from the Urakai shade. When he had let just a little *too* much of his avarice show to an astute Sid and had had to 'fess up to owning the second gem. The second Blackheart stone. And the bargain he had made with the Sid. Wherein the Sid explained in detail his interest in moonstone. Wherein Sid had explained that to know what he, the Sid, already knew about moonstone could mean his life. Now, Glorm's life. About the new duties and obligations to Borgia Hold that Sid now bore. And, to Sid's eyes, even *that* was possibly *the least* of it...
GLORM
Glorm thought he was taking his chastisement rather well, all things considered. He hadn't once let on that he was turning green from lack of pipeweed or that his hands were beginning to shake from lack of brandy. Hopefully, he thought, the Sid would wind down soon and he would be able to attend to those matters in peace.
Sid considered his small traveling companion. He hardly seemed repentant. Sigh. Must be a racial trait. He tried to envision an entire nation of uncontrollably greedy, power-mad, short people. His imagination failed somewhere between a classroom full of three-year old children and the Greater Kethem Lawyers and Barristers Guild. He shuddered.
Hopefully, it was just Glorm's pipeweed withdrawal.
"Glorm. Just to recap how precarious our situation is right now. Remember when we made a deal to exchange information? You explained how you obtained one of the BlackHeart stones. I explained my interest in Moonstone. As I said before, Borgia Hold has a Moonstone Talisman. Rather like a symbol of our House. Pre-Fall. Glows at night. Waxes and wanes with the moon. We like to think it teaches our scions something about the nature of temporal power. A House in ascendency. A House in decline. The natural order or rhythm of Human Affairs. Helps to teach the Long View."
Glorm seemed to nod attentatively, while his fingers crept towards his tabac pouch.
"Now whether or not the Moonstone has additional powers, in truth, I don't know," Sid admitted. "However, I do know that the substance itself is used in the construction of devices of great power.
"A number of years ago, my House was brought to scandal. The Kethem navy experienced its greatest defeat in recent memory at the hands of mysterious black ships. We were blamed. Trumped up evidence. My...my...father... my uncles and cousins...many died or 'disappeared'. We never knew how or why. We fought just to survive. Recently, my Uncle Victor learned of a device that the Bradford Hold obtained off of a black ship. A box. A coffin. Of a substance that glows at night in concert with the moon. This...instrument...at the cost of human lives... seems able to scry, to penetrate places and read thoughts. Unshieldable. Unstoppable. The Bradfords hold this device in strictest secrecy. *They* are responsible for the ruin of my House. Of my Family. Vic tried to learn more about this device. He took precautions. Extreme precautions. To no avail. Victor now...is dead. Another of my family. Dead. At Bradford hands."
Sid turned to the Dwarf and spread his hands in what, for him, was a rare display of true emotion. "I, now, am Borgia Hold. It is to me to be clever enough, to obtain the power, to root this Evil out. To Restore my House. To utterly destroy the Bradfords. Yet, I am helpless. How do you destroy that which you cannot oppose, that can read your very thoughts?"
And here the Sid stopped, amidst the nut trees and singing birds through which they had been walking this fine sunny day, amidst the wildflowers, with the warm sweet breeze in their face. His voice dropped. Grew soft. Intent. Arctic. "But there is a much greater danger than the Bradfords. Amateurs!" he sneered derisively. "This device represents a greater danger to the freedom of the Great Holds than any I have ever heard. *All* the Holds. To our very Way of Life! Think, you, what would happen if this device were to fall into the hands of the *truly* evil. Into the hands of the KIA, of the Elves, of a religious Cult." He reflected upon a Shadow from his dreams and a Voice that promised Chaos. He continued relentlessly. "Think what a large organization could do if they could learn the secret of the device! If they could make dozens! Hundreds! Think! No thought not overheard! No secret not uncovered! No opposition possible! The death of Freedom everywhere!"
And here the Sid seized Glorm by his tunic and pressed his face to that of the Dwarf's. "And do you think that *your* People will escape this? Do you think that now that we humans are aware of your existence that we won't try to seek out and subjugate *your* Folk as well?! Think again, my friend, think again! This device, this Power threatens all free peoples everywhere!" For the first time, Glorm's eyes grew wide in realization, even as he wiped spittle off of his face. Hmmm... the Sid could *actually* be right about this. Could be. Stranger things had happened. After all, these Humans *were* a graspy lot. He'd have to think about this over a good, tall mug of brandy, he decided...
"We just can't ride down the streets of Salta shouting the news at the tops of our lungs and have the Town rise against the Bradfords," the Sid continued, "That would just bring the Bigger Powers down on top off it for sure! If there really is an 'antimagic' cult around, and we knew how to contact them, *that* would be the best. Destroy it. In secret. So that *no one* ever knows such technology ever existed. Would it be nice to have that power in my own hands? Yes. But a man has to know his limitations. It's too dangerous. *Too* powerful. It must be destroyed" he concluded with a shake of his head. "For the Borgia, for Salta, for everyone!"
Sid suddenly seemed to collect himself and released the Dwarf. He smoothed Glorm's tunic in evident embarrasment. He continued gruffly. "These BlackHearts may give us the power necessary to defeat the Bradfords but they seem pretty dangerous in and of themselves. Need I remind you that *one* kept a Urakai Shade in Limbo for hundreds of years and that just *playing* with *two* of them you stopped the heart of an animal that can carry a weight all day that three *men* can only think of carrying? These things are Dangerous, Glorm. We need to find out how to use them *carefully*. Secretly. We also need to investigate this rumor of 'black' ships in the North. 'Black' ships again. They come from *somewhere*. Possibly the same somewhere Moonstone comes from.
"We have to proceed *carefully*," he concluded, "Or else we'll just end up carrying a sign that says: 'Will Save the World For Food' for the rest of our days. *Now* do you Get it?" They had finally worked their way back to the encampment.
Glorm reckonned that the Sid had finally blown himself out. That's what comes from creeping around in the dark all the time, he figured. Ain't healthy. The Saltan needed to learn how to *relax*. "There, there," he patted the Sid's arm reassuringly, "There, there. We'll work it out."
The Sid threw his arms up in exasperation.
"Er...ah...Lord Sid...now that *that* is settled...what about me loading my goods onto your horse? I can't possibly carry them myself. And it *would* be a waste of good merchandise" he reminded the Sid. The black-clad Chevalier turned.
"Ask him yourself, Glorm."
"Huh? Ask *him*? What do you mean? He's *your* horse!"
"I just ride him. He's *his own* horse," Sid corrected.
Puzzled, Glorm turned. And jumped upon finding the massive charger had snuck
up on him again and stood above him. And was regarding him as if he understood
every word of what was said. With a grin on his enormous visage that could only
be described as positively malevolent. But that just wasn't possible for a
horse. Was it? "Uh-oh," thought Glorm...
DELRIN
He carefully reached out and stroked the wolf. It tolerated it for a few moments, then shook free and headed into the brush. Delrin couldn't see the rest of the pack, but he knew they were there.
He walked back slowly to the rest of the party, almost sorry the interlude was over. They had been on the road for twelve days, and while the march had been strenuous, it was also relaxing in comparison to most of their recent activities. No battles, no blood, just walking through the forest, making the best time they could. Almost everyone seemed to be enjoying it, with the possible exception of Glorm. Most of Glorm's stash was on the large war-horse, but he had to carry a pretty hefty backpack himself. Watching the horse communicate that Glorm was going to have to carry his share was uncanny; the beast was certainly more than it appeared.
The Don and Glorm had the fire ready to go, just waiting on his report that everything was clear before beginning the end of day routine they had settled into. He wished he could give them that news. Instead he shook his head. "There is someone nearby."
El Sid immediately looked more attentive, and strolled over. "How many?"
Delrin frowned as he replied. "My communication with the wolves is not that specific... in fact, I don't think they have the concept of numbers. Humanoid, on horseback, large numbers, scent of blood was just about all I got."
"What about direction?"
"In their territory. We are on the southern-most fringes, and I figure it extends for five to ten miles to a side. It is a big pack. So I'd guess one to five miles. The wolves would be more excited if they were close."
Glorm looked at El Sid. "Let's talk."
GLORM
The night was clear, but moon set shortly after midnight leaving the sky littered with stars, which was more than enough light for Glorm. At first Glorm worried about Sid keeping up with him in the dim starlight, but he soon realized Sid was more at home in the darkness then he was in the midday sun. As they left camp Sid's horse let out a nickering sound that somehow left the impression of a *Good luck boss*. Glorm dismissed this thought immediately. The wicked looking black beast, even more than his master, gave the Glorm the willies. He had been lugging that 150 lb pack of brandy for days now because of that rotten animal. Oh well it was good to ditch all that weight, including his armor and large shield for tonight's skulk. He had compromised with a small shield, which offered some small protection, but tonight's mission was about stealth and not might of arms. He convinced Sid to carry the flash sword, along with his daggers. They agreed both would shut their eyes if Sid uttered the words "Dead Meat". They would scout the armies position from a distance before approaching. If the group looked friendly, they could "officially" encounter them in the morning; otherwise the party would sneak off tonight and avoid the army entirely. When the lights of the force started to glow in the distance, Sid muttered a few words in some vile tongue, becoming suddenly very misty and difficult to see. The dwarf chuckled darkly, and the two moved off silently. Any earlier unpleasantness between the two was quickly forgotten as the two slipped into the flat blackness of the night.
Two hours later, they stood on the outskirts of a small glen, well inside the perimeter guards that were patrolling a hundred yards or so farther back in the woods. Glorm estimated about fifty men and heavy war-horses were camped on the grass. The smell of smoke had alerted well before reaching the picket line. Glorm's dexterity and better than average night vision had let him and El Sid, who was almost invisible in his blend spell, move past the men with little problem.
The smell of smoke was from small, carefully controlled fires under small sod huts, enough for cooking but difficult to see unless you were right on top of them. Voices, deliberately keep to a murmur, were difficult to make out. "Shall we move closer?" Glorm hissed to El Sid. There was a brief touch on his shoulder, then a slight whisper of moving grass, and El Sid was gone. Glorm shrugged and sat back. El Sid was the right man for this job.
It was about half an hour later that that same brush of the shoulder caused Glorm to jump out of his skin. Damn, he had been watching for El Sid really carefully too, the sneaky little bastard. They withdrew as slowly as they approached, and their luck remained good, sweeping past the unsuspecting guards without incident. Somewhere shortly thereafter, El Sid's blend spell ended and he could see the man more clearly, but still not as easily as should have been the case. Glorm suppressed a shudder.
The two moved patiently and quietly until well out of earshot of the camp.
Glorm raised his eyebrows in a silent question. "Soldiers from Helseki. A vaguely interesting story. Apparently the Urakai have attacked Cherifyr, this time more openly. The black ship attacked again, blew some holes in the city walls, and Urakai from smaller ships landed in a ground assault. They were driven off, but at some cost to the city."
"So, these soldiers be help from Helseki?"
"That's the interesting part. Far from it, they are a raiding party. Apparently Tristan was not far off the mark when he said the city states would attack each other if they felt they had a tactical advantage. It doesn't appear to be anything serious; just a lot of hit and run tactics primarily aimed at looting while Cherifyr's guard is down."
"But I thought these southern cities did not attack the northern ones to keep a buffer from the Urakai?"
"True, but Cherifyr is not really a border city. It's down on a peninsula, pretty far from the Urakai border."
"Any idea whether this is the only group?"
"I'd say definitely not, but I didn't get a feel for how many groups there are. I get the feeling this is not a coordinated effort."
Glorm nodded. "Let us return to camp and counsel with the others."
El Sid nodded, and they moved on.