Fate of the Empires

Ah, the great city of Athust! A pinnacle of medieval advancement and beauty that any traveler should feel privileged to lay eyes on. Its gleaming white towers are a symbol of hope and strength to surrounding villages and fifes. The enormous walls that enclose the capital of Athusia are guarded by the nation’s finest archers and soldiers. No blood has ever touched the stone-paved streets of Athust and its defenses have never been penetrated. I should be filled with a grand sense of pride as my carriage makes its way towards the palace through the busy streets where merchants peddle their wares from lands near and far. Yes, I should be filled with pride about our capital yet I am unimpressed. Intricately carved sculptures of the gods upon the rooftops and guard patrols in shiny armor may awe the common folk, but I would have gone a different direction if this were my kingdom.

It seems odd that I would be summoned from such a great distance to the home of our nation’s infallible monarch, Roland Darkwynde III. It would all be very moving if it didn’t make me laugh! With constantly warring city-states and now barbarian invasions from the East, it’s no wonder that the king would come groveling for aid from a member of the Black Flame.

The Black Flame are amongst the world’s most powerful mages delving into the darkest of arcane magics. We are often used as escorts and assassins for those who can afford to pay and most matters are handled with the utmost discretion. This fact makes it even more puzzling that I have been summoned in broad daylight on royal business.

I am filled with dismay to see another carriage arrive at the palace gates ahead of mine. The intricately carved runes in the woodwork led me to believe the vehicle carries a holy cleric or priestess of the Arusian Order. One cannot deny the efficiency of these warriors guised as healers and soothsayers, but why is there a need for one when I’m already here? There are many schools of magic in the realm of mortals and none are more opposite each other than the spheres of arcane and holy magic.

As I step out of my carriage so too does the occupant of the other one. It’s a woman…a gorgeous woman with long, fiery red hair that rivals the brilliance of the sun! She glances back at me and I become enamored by the radiance of her jade colored eyes. She gives me a dismissing look and quickly turns towards the palace gates. Her green cloak flows almost to the ground. It has the symbol of her order, the sword of Arus, god of might and strength, embroidered on the back. I’ll have to make it a point to invite her into my bed sometime. The royal guards at the gate stand down upon her approach. They grant her immediate entrance into the palace, but I know things won’t be as easy for me.

The well-armed sentries stand in my way, both clutching their long swords ready to strike at the slightest wrong move. Their decorative chain mesh armor may prevent the common warrior from cutting them down, but it’s hardly a match for my magic if I truly desired passage without permission. I reveal my empty hands from beneath my dark red cloak, which covers my uncommon attire. Most in my order prefer the long robes made of thick cloth to get around in. I, myself, find them too restricting. A stationary mage in battle is usually a dead one and I plan to have a long career. I dress more like a rogue wearing dark breeches and a tunic so that I may move around more easily. “I am Magnus Domagus, master of the arcane arts and high mage of the Black Flame! I am here at the request of his highness, Lord Darkwynde. Make way!”

I brush my brown hair back with my hand at the end of my statement. A bit much, I admit, but I want the respect I deserve here. Without saying a word the guards relax and allow me through the gates.

The palace is indeed a structural work of art! Influenced heavily by the nations of the west after Lord Edwin Darkwynde, the king’s grandfather, signed a peace accord with Emperor Leeland Zayfarious of the Borathian Empire. Both countries exchanged art and sciences as well as architectural secrets thus transforming our capital from its archaic stone structure origins to its present utopian design. The main courtyard is filled with fruit-bearing trees that surround a stoned-carved path to the palace doors. I walk between the marble columns that line the path and wonder about the Borathians’ fascination with these stone pillars that serve no purpose.

The intoxicating priestess enters the palace ahead of me. Two more guards stop me at the main doors and I go through the routine again in order to be granted access inside. The palace interior again surrounds me with pillars, but these ones are actually put to good use by supporting the second floor. I take note of the murder holes in the ceiling and I can almost feel the nocked arrows aimed at my back through the archer slits in the walls. A well-dressed servant escorts me through the halls towards the throne room, however, we detour down a small side hall before we reach the lavish doors of the anticipated meeting spot. I am instead led into a conference room.

A long, wooden table sits in the center of the room. It is littered with books, maps, and varying documents on parchment. The servant leaves and closes the door behind him. An older man in all black helps the fiery-haired priestess into her chair. He looks to be a typical Athusian noble. Well-groomed, unlike the common folk. Skin mildly pale from lack of sun exposure. His hair is brown, but starting to gray. He looks at me. His eyes have the look of a man who runs an entire nation, but this is no king before me. “Magnus Domagus, I presume,” he says as he motions to an empty chair.

I sit on the cold wood of the chair and try to make myself comfortable with the lack of hospitality received so far. “I am Ethan Fenholm, chief intelligence officer to the crown,” our host says as he takes a seat at the head of the table.

I look to the priestess. She gives me the same dismissing look that I received outside. “And you are?” I ask.

Charm is overrated and reserved for gentlemen and rogues. I prefer the direct approach. I receive a cold glare in response to my question. There has never been a great love between the Black Flame, wielders of dark magic and the Arusian clerics, protectors of the light, so this comes as no surprise. Ethan speaks up to break the tension, “This is Leaia Windamere, holy knight of the Arusian Order.”

“And what matter is so urgent that you need members from both our elite houses?” I ask in a sarcastic tone.

“Actually this is of such urgency that it requires more than just your-” Ethan is interrupted by the sound of a loud, guttural roar outside the conference room door.

Leaia and I quickly look towards the sound. Ethan doesn’t really seem phased by it. The door opens and in steps a barbarian warrior from the island of Orrock. These vile creatures walk like men, but look like reptiles. Raised in warrior tribes, these freaks of nature feed on raw flesh and have hearts as cold as their solid black eyes. An elongated mouth filled with razor-sharp teeth compliment the exotic blades that Orrocks wield in battle. This particular lizard-man wears animal hides over his scaly skin. His tongue slithers out to take in everyone’s scent as he scans the room. “We’ve also sought some outside assistance,” Ethan says attempting to finish his original thought.

“Mercenaries,” I say with a blatant sound of disgust in my voice.

“You’re a fool to think that I can’t understand you, human,” the Orrock says in a deep, grating tone, “And you’re a bigger fool to think that I wouldn’t slash your throat and bathe in your blood for insulting me!”

I stand up for this challenge. “Try it and I’ll be fashioning your skin into a suit of armor!” I say as I step up to the brutish reptile.

Not the smartest decision to stand toe-to-toe with an Orrock, but these savages respect courage and detest fear so I stand to walk away from this with all my limbs still attached. “Stop it!” Leaia rises and interjects like a mother scolding two young boys, “Both of you!”

Orrocks are very spiritual and have the greatest reverence for anyone close to the gods, but I don’t share the same sentiments. However, this is not the time or the place to settle this. We both reluctantly drop the issue. “I sincerely hope you all learn to get along because Draccus here will be joining you on this mission,” Ethan says, keeping his composure.

No words are exchanged, just simple nods. We all sit at the table with the exception of Draccus who sort of leans on his tail, using it as a chair. We all keep our distances from each other. “Good,” Ethan stands, “Now I’m sure you’re all wondering why you’re here and I have that explanation for you.”

Ethan begins to circle the table. He moves slowly, stopping from time to time. “You are all aware of the recent skirmishes along the Eastern borders of our lands. To avoid any more civil unrest or panic, the general populace has been told that these were minor barbarian uprisings. Most commoners and even some in the noble houses such as your own are at the understanding that these are minor conflicts that pose no problem to our way of life…that, however, is far from the truth. These attacks on our soil were deliberate. We are on the verge of a secret war with the nation of Densetsu…a war we may not win.”

“Densetsu is an island, not even a fourth the size of our lands,” the idea of them defeating us seems preposterous, “What danger could they possibly present?”

“It is a small nation, this is true, but they are not the uneducated barbarians that we have painted them to be. They are a civilization of warriors and sages. War is their way of life.”

“I still don’t see how warriors and wisemen are any threat to our advanced society,” I attempt to reiterate my point.

“You’ve been locked in your mage tower for far too long,” Leaia interrupts, “Your arrogance about our country isn’t going to win a war!”

It’s almost unnoticeable, but when she gets angry I can feel…something. An energy. A magical energy, but unlike anything I’ve ever felt before. I had better keep an eye on this one. “That’s rich coming from those who hide behind their gods in order to murder and pillage!” I shoot right back.

Before any other insults can be exchanged an exotic blade slams into the wooden table by the giant lizard! Leaia and I promptly, but nonchalantly sit back down. I suppose the thought of the reptile devouring our flesh is unsettling to us both, however, our egos would never allow us to show it. Draccus removes his blade from the table and sheaths it. “Thank you,” Ethan says as he gives a little nod to the Orrock.

Ethan reclaims his seat at the head of the table. “Your mission is simple, so long as you don’t kill each other along the way. The three of you shall accompany a member of my counter-intelligence team into Densetsun territory.”

Counter-intelligence. Damn spies. As if this trio didn’t already have enough distrust for each other, but to have a fourth whose sole purpose is to gather information about us and report it to the king? What has the Black Flame gotten me into?

“And where is this spy of yours?” I question.

“Behind you,” I hear an unfamiliar voice.

I spin around to find the fourth member of our team leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. “Nice trick,” I say hiding my embarrassment that he snuck up on me so easily.

There is something odd about this Imperial agent. Something not quite Athusian. A skin tone ever so slightly darker than our own. Hair black as night. A mild slant to his dark eyes and the look of a man who might do something crazy to get his job done. Draccus’ tongue slithers quickly in and out of his mouth as he takes in the air surrounding our visitor.

“I smell foreign blood,” Draccus says as he glares at Ethan’s spy.

It would seem that the lizard has picked up on something as well. Would Ethan be asking us to follow an enemy into Densetsu? Leaia and our new would-be ally exchange a quick glance. It’s not a familiar look as though they know each other, but there is a level of intrigue in the eyes of the priestess. For a split second her breathing quickens. It’s so minute and faint I don’t think anyone else even notices the change. If I didn’t know better I’d think the Arusian cleric was instantly taken with this dark haired stranger.

Ethan stands once again and makes his way over to the foreign agent. “I can already see what you’re thinking, however, before you jump to any conclusions allow me to explain. This is Jun and yes, Densetsun blood runs in his veins, but so does Athusian. His father was a Densetsun warrior that attacked his mother’s village. His mother was raped and left for dead. When our soldiers found her I took her into my care. The poor woman died in childbirth and since that time I have raised Jun as my own. He is well versed in the ways of the Densetsun people and he is completely loyal to the crown. I would trust him with my life as I trust him with yours.”

I wish I shared that confidence. I catch a glare from Jun. Am I wearing my skepticism on my sleeve? Subtlety never was one of my stronger qualities. Ethan moves back to his chair and sits once more. “Getting back to your mission; the four of you will venture into Densetsu posing as a band of mercenaries, led by Jun, and infiltrate their army.”

“Reconnaissance?” Leaia questions.

“Precisely,” Ethan nods, “Jun is on point, Magnus is communications, Draccus is clearly your muscle, and Leaia is also on hand for combat as well as healing. Lord Darkwynde wouldn’t think of sending a team into enemy territory without the blessing of the Arusian clerics.”

“I take it a new wardrobe will be in order,” I say in a jovial tone.

“Densetsun warriors keep what they kill if it is better than what they already possess,” Jun steps up to the table and chimes in with his supposed expertise, “We will be outfitted with clothing and armor from both nations in order to make us passable. Once inside we must get close to those in power and find out the army’s plans. If we make any mistakes we will die.”

How cheerful. And here I thought it was going to be all fun and games. Why would I be chosen for a mission of stealth? Mages are not trained in subterfuge. It’s not that I can’t handle it. I was gifted as a child. I excelled at any task I was given and could have mastered any number of trades, but my father, being a master in the Black Flame, didn’t give me the choice. As soon as I showed a knack for harnessing the raw energy of the elements and commanding it to my will I was sent to the tower of Draz’zt Tharr, a training school with all the luxuries of a prison. It was there that I spent the next twenty years of my life mastering the arcane arts. Maybe I’m being too negative about this spy business. Something’s bound to go awry…and then I’ll get to blow things up!

“Jun has a flare for the dramatic,” Ethan attempts to ease the tension that fills the room, “You’re just gathering information. You shouldn’t be at a major risk. There is, of course, always a chance of getting caught in this line of work, but that is why I have requested the best. You four are the best at what each of you do. You have proven yourselves to your masters time and time again and I have no doubt that this assignment will be easily accomplished by this team.”

Team? The four of us look each other over with an obvious distaste at the thought. There is no team here. Not yet, anyway. Maybe this is a test from the Black Flame. I’ve worked in solitude for so long perhaps they think the prospect of teamwork would present a challenge. Damn. I suppose I had better try to work with these three if I am at the scrutiny of my masters.

“Well then,” I try to sound enthusiastic, “What’s the plan?”

Ethan unrolls a large map of the Eastern provinces onto the table. “This is where you will start,” Ethan points to a port city along the Southeastern coastline.

Cove. A city where having a quick hand and a keen eye can get you far, so long as you can stay alive. A place so corrupt your own kin will stab you in the back for their personal gain. Home of the Shadow Guild and the black trade. Any material possession your greedy heart could covet can be found through the black trade…for a nominal fee of course. The Shadow Guild runs the black trade out of Cove to locations all over the known world. Their reputation labels them as a band of cutthroat thieves and assassins when they are in fact the most organized crime syndicate around. They offer many shady services for the right price, but you’d better be able to pay or else horrible things will befall your entire family.

“Why Cove?” Leaia asks.

“The Shadow Guild makes routine runs to a small town on the Southern coast of Densetsu for the black trade,” Ethan replies as he stands, “It will be your easiest way onto the island.”

“We will need to establish our presence as mercenaries while in Cove,” Jun sits at the table with the rest of us, “If anyone in Densetsu checks our background, Cove is the only place on our mainland they will go for it. Anything can be purchased through the Black Trade and our enemies know this. We need to make sure the information they get ahold of is false.”

“Our first steps shall be the most crucial to our success then,” Leaia says in her snobby tone.

“I believe every step will be crucial to our success, “I respond, pleased with my own snobby tone.

“Of course,” Leaia smiles and grits her teeth to hold back a verbal lashing.

“Jun will give you all a crash course in the Densetsun culture,” Ethan makes his way towards the door, “You have the rest of the day and tonight to prepare. First thing tomorrow morning a coach will escort you to Port Lindara where a cargo ship will set sail in three days for the city of Akkarr along the Eastern coast. Be on it.”

Lindara, goddess of the wind and sea. Lord Roland Darkwynde II had the port built in her honor in hopes that it would bring blessings to our nation’s trade ships. Superstitious fools. The gods are temperamental as they are childish! Their power is wasted on the ignorant! Priests spend their entire lives paying homage to deities that grant power when their spirits are high and strip it away when their egos get injured. Holy magic is granted by the gods after long hours spent in prayer. A waste of time in my opinion! The magic I wield is summoned from deep within the black heart of the universe and needs no worship to be tapped.

“Once in Akkarr you will need to find your own means of travel and get to Cove as quickly as you can,” Ethan pulls out a small purse as he speaks.

Ethan tosses the purse onto the table. As the cloth bag hits the smooth wood surface it opens to reveal a handful of very precious stones. “These should provide you more than adequate means of securing what goods you will require for your journey,” Ethan looks down for a moment as though the weight of the world were on his shoulders.

“So once we’re in Cove we establish ourselves as a band of mercenaries, make our way to Densetsu and…” I trail off expecting Ethan to fill in the rest.

“And then we infiltrate the capital city of Jinsei, where we will gather information about their armies attack plans and strategies,” Jun answers before Ethan can.

“I am leaving it up to you, Magnus, to get the information back to me by way of viewing portals once you are in Densetsu,” Ethan looks directly at me.

It is becoming apparent why the king would need someone with my skill. A viewing portal is a simple spell. One of the first you learn as an apprentice as a matter of fact. You open a small rift that allows you to communicate with your masters while they are on assignment. Creating a viewing portal between cities is an easy task. Even communicating across a nation can be done with little concentration, but to channel across an entire ocean is something that requires great focus and endurance.

“As you command,” I nod to Ethan.

“I expect every one of you to act in the best interest of the mission, however, since Jun is the most knowledgeable about the situation he shall be in charge,” Ethan’s tone becomes very stern, “If anyone is going to have a problem taking orders from him speak now.”

Of course I have problems taking orders from a lowly spy! “I shall, in all my best, follow his lead,” I lie through my teeth.

“I have no problems taking orders,” Leaia looks at Jun, “So long as they benefit the mission.”

“I will follow,” Draccus growls, “Until I have a reason not to.”

“Good,” Ethan looks at Jun, “Then I leave it in your hands. I shall see you all off in the morning. Good evening.”

Ethan quietly excuses himself from the room. Jun moves to the head of the table. It appears that taking charge is second nature to this man. He begins to go into detail about planning for the journey ahead, but his voice trails off as soon as he opens his mouth. I did say I’d follow his lead. I never said anything about listening to him.

It is well into the evening by the time we get out of the “war room”. My wits are numb from Jun’s superfluous regurgitating of his carefully laid plans for the road ahead. I can’t be alone in thinking it was a complete waste of time, but the priestess seemed to hang on his every word. The whole presentation reminds me of my early days in Draz’zt Tharr. The masters would lecture for hours on end about the history and the basics of the black arts. Only, if you didn’t listen to the masters, you were struck with a small bolt of electricity! Trust me, if you lost focus in Draz’zt Tharr it only happened once.

I am led to my sleeping quarters by a royal guard. The accommodations provided by the king are far superior to anything I’m used to. The large bed in the center of the room is covered in bedding made from the finest cloths. It looks very inviting, but I can’t bring myself to lie down just yet. Something about this whole mission bothers me. Let’s call it intuition, but something is not right. My curiosity gets the better of me and I decide to take action.

My bags have been placed on the floor by the bed. Good service here…so long as none of my contents have been disturbed. I pull out my spell book from its holder, which is located within my robes. A spell book is a mage’s most powerful weapon and most protected treasure, from the day a young apprentice finishes binding those sacred pages together until he is a master inscribing his final runes on the last page. A mage without their book of spells is like a warrior without his blade or a priest without his god, virtually powerless.

I gently caress the leather binding of my book before opening it on the large wooden desk that graces the southern wall of the room. I quickly glance over the incantation for scrying. Scrying is much like a viewing portal except that it is used to watch an individual without them knowing whereas a viewing portal is meant for mutual communication. The key to scrying is focus. You must focus on the life essence of the person you wish scry on. This is easily done unless the individual of your focus has some sort of an anti-scrying barrier up. In this instance I intend to see what Ethan is plotting, but first…I wonder if Leaia has unrobed for the night.

I feel her energy only a few rooms away from mine. I focus on a blank spot of wall and whisper the words, “absonditus indagatio.” A swirling portal appears on the wall. The dancing mixture of colors and light within the circular projection slowly become the image of Leaia’s quarters. The furnishings are the same as my own room with a few added flowery arrangements. Leaia kneels on the floor near the end of her bed. Prayer is such a waste of time and yet I know she goes through this ritual at least twice a day. The worst part is that she is still in her holy robes from earlier. How disappointing. How boring. How plain. I was hoping to find a warrior priestess wearing something less restrictive that lifts and separates. Preferably fashioned out of some sort of wild animal hide.

With a wave of my hand I close the scrying portal and let out a sigh. I had such high hopes. Back to business I suppose. Ethan’s energy is more elusive. It seems as though he is some how concealing it from me. Who does he think he’s dealing with? I draw in some outer energy to enhance my focus. Ah…the energy! Drawing in the power of the world gives me such a high! With refreshed focus I locate Ethan easily. He’s somewhere deep underground. Under the castle. Below the dungeon. “Absonditus indagatio.”

A solid black hole materializes on the wall. As my eyes adjust to the darkness within the portal I can make out two figures. They are in a cave or a tunnel. One of them is Ethan. The other individual, however, is obscured in shadows. They speak in a hushed tone, which is ridiculous when you consider how far underground they are. “Are you sure you trust him on this mission?” the shadowed figure questions.

Mistrust. How interesting. I wonder who they could be talking about. “He is completely under my control,” Ethan replies solemnly.

“But if he were to find out the truth-”

“That’s not going to happen,” Ethan interrupts, “So try to control yourself.”

“Your carelessness will cost us this war!”

Ethan grabs the shrouded figure by the collar and pulls him close. He pulls him into what little light there is in the catacombs. Ah, his face! I can see his face! His silky, decorative attire leads me to believe he is a nobleman. More than likely someone with great power and influence by the way he speaks. He is a man of fair size and stature, but he has a mild look of terror in his eyes at this particular moment. Ethan gets face to face with his antagonist. “This is my war! I planned its conception! I have seen it to fruition! And I will see to its success! You are a mere puppet and if you’re lacking faith I can always find another!”

“I meant no disrespect,” the frightened noble cowers, “I am only concerned for the welfare of our great nation.”

“Your only concern is for your name and your family’s lands,” Ethan releases his grip, “And you know I can take it all away from you with a snap of my fingers.”

“Yes, my lord,” the noble bows his head.

My lord? Who addresses an intelligence officer as their lord? What are you playing at Ethan? Who are you? My instincts tell me that I shouldn’t turn my back on him. And perhaps, for the duration of this mission, I should sleep with one eye open.

Ethan turns his back on the pathetic excuse for a noble before him. “Just do your job when the time comes,” he glares back over his shoulder, “And never question my judgment again.”

I close the portal as Ethan leaves his cohort alone in the darkness. I laugh to myself. All the trouble these spies go through pretending to be other people just to get a bit of information and here I did it without leaving the comfort of my chambers. Maybe I’m better at this spy business than I thought.

Unfortunately, I have more questions now than before. I think I will have to get closer to Jun. It might be the only way I can get more insight into Ethan’s true motives. I will say this; the road ahead will not be dull.

Tomorrow we leave on a long quest that may end in our demise. I should probably get some rest, but I have too much on my mind at the moment. What to do? Study my spells? A sedative, perhaps? A minor sleep spell? No. In the end I think I’ll do what any self-respecting mage in my position would. I’ll teleport to a tavern to enjoy some ale and the company of a few scantily clad young ladies! Ah! Sweet dreams lie ahead!