(Art source unknown)
Index: Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Blood and Frost
It was this time of the Turn once more and people in their usual hasty rush to stock what supplies they could before Frost came knocking on their doors. Carrying the occasional snowflake, chill winds blasted across all streets, roofs, and whatnot, waking even the fools up from their lazy stupor. There were those, however, who, even after living all of their lives within the walls of this ancient metropolis, needed a more stern, in the face reminder of what would soon come.
Following that bloody weird magic calamity three ninths ago, the streets were significantly less populated. Many of those who would’ve otherwise hawked goods, shopped for such, or plain strolled around enjoying the last few warmish days, they were either slain or recovered in a bed somewhere. What was worse, the citizens rightly worried of criminals prowling in the shadows, emboldened by the deaths of so many city guards and temple warriors.
Thus, those who could, be they bounty hunters, free adventurers, or even priests past their youthful age, they all took turns patrolling. Yet this was the time of the Festival of Death, where many prayed to the sun god Iroh for deliverance from Frost’s deathly touch. Therefore, even though this part of the metropolis was significantly emptier than usual, one could see a crowd of relatives or neighborhoods gathering around loudly chanting Irohan priests. Incense, its expensive but uplifting aroma wavered across many an intersection, and hymns echoed across the Trades’ and Worker’s Districts.
Yet not all who walked outside ajoined a prayer group, for they had other goals.
Joel, in his plated chainmail, red priestly robe, helm, and everything, visited a street to do his Marrite duty. Calm, yet a bit somber, behind him strutted Keryln, the carrying leather strap of a tower shield over his shoulder. He would hit the shield’s round boss with a hollow rod made of cast bronze, its rounded end wrapped in cured hide.
“Warm yer bloood!” – Keryln shouted the first bit of his traditional chant, took a deeper breath and cried – “Watch for frooost!”
The priest stopped him and while this one switched shoulders again, taking a short breather, Joel roared at a yawning young woman of dwarven descent – “You! Yes girl, I am speaking to you, and don’t be lookin ‘round like clueless fool! Where be yer warm clothes, the socks, the hat, the gloves, and padded shoes-eh?!”
“B-but... ‘tis not Frost yet!” – mumbled the slacker who shivered in her thin beautiful dress, a perfect fit for the middle of the Warmth, her feet naked in open, tall wooden shoes.
“Father, what is she even doing out on the streets in these clothes?” – the dwarf heard his son whisper and gave him a pat on the head.
“Prolly looking for cold... erm... men.” – he began his explanation, yet stopped himself mid-thought.
Confused, the boy gazed upon her shivering frame and winced – “Wouldn’t she be helping these cold men better with a pair of sturdy shoes on and a cozy, thicker dress?”
“You’ll know more when you grow up, son.”
A couple of her terrified friends attempted to slink back into the side street they just left, but their tall, clacking shoes and fluttering dresses betrayed them. Under his steel gaze they froze like startled cats, their owner having catched them munching his prized smoked fish.
Joel waggled his gloved finger and visor lifted so she and everyone else in sight could see his face, grumbled – “Gah, yer moms and I didn’t suffer pains to deliver a bunch of lazy bums into this world! Git, I say! Now run home and dress warm or there’s gonna be such a paddlin’!”
Stumbling on their uncomfortable shoes and tripping on their long dresses, the three scattered away in their best possible speed, followed by the chortles of their neighbors. Oft, only the grumbling voice of the Marrite priesthood could snap these slackers back into reality. Their parents’ hope was that the stupid would fade away when they grew up, but for that to occur they actually had to stay alive.
The two continued down the street, Joel happy to see that his boy was not just safe, but growing stronger. Dressed in sturdy, warm clothes, granny Folst’s cozy hat with earmuffs keeping his head warm, Keryln walked tall and strong. By Mother Mara’s sacred caress; the old dwarf could swear that his little journeyman was growing taller too!
“Warm yer bloood!” – the youngling screamed with a grin, thrice slammed the rod at his battle-weary shield keeping precise ritual timing, and shouted – “Watch for frooost!”
When time came for a break, they stopped at a soup stall. A bowl of hot chicken stew with dried veggies and slice of rye bread filled their bellies and warmed them. They made the tasty broth, the elven stall owner explained in her forest accent, from “chimken” bones. It was cheap and delicious since the otherwise expensive veggies were sold in bulk, right before the Frost.
“May this Frost last fewer days.” – wished them the woman as they continued their traditional Marrite walk of warnings.
A little bit down the street there was an intersection and Joel greeted another priest, an Irohan. Imposing in their jeweled suits of armor, flashy weapons on their luxurious belts, the servants of god Iroh looked nothing like his fellow priests. Of the three Temples, the Marrites were perhaps the most balanced when it came to apparel or weapons, with Kannite priesthood striving for perfect frugality in all things.
There was a big cart loaded with blessed firewood, all neatly split and tied in small bundles. Each could warm a big home for many, many days, and if used sparingly, a real life-saver during the most terrible months of the Frost. Six apprentices helped offload and distribute the offerings, reading from a scroll of family names. Those who were called to receive one of these bundles, they were beyond happy, yet there were some leaving the scene, frowns upon their faces.
The Irohan returned Joel’s greeting, waving a fresh tree branch with his hand, chanting a blessing for him and Keryln – “In light of holy fire, thy foe yee shall vanquish!”
Some minutes later, when they crossed the intersection, his son gave him a questioning nudge – “Father, we aren’t going to war, so why the combat prayer?”
Joel smirked and nudged his boy back, poking his shield carrying shoulder – “‘Tis the shield, my son. When Marrites carry it out from Temple, Irohan warmasters have a traditional battle wish they chant for us.”
Keryln frowned a bit, his otherwise wide smile vanishing in a moment, when he said – “At the inn, when I rode there, everyone assured me that these weird magic troubles were over.”
There was a couple of side streets Joel had promised to visit, but they stopped for a minute of prayer. In silence, Joel said a chant for the dead even though he was not a Kannite since this one was common in all three temples.
“Of earned merit our loved one was, for in silence she worked for others. Father Kan, we know that you keep stalwart lady Folst on the right of your throne, where she feasts upon hallowed bread from thine table, and drinks blessed wine aplenty. In her ancestors’ happy company she is and may her happy afterlife days never end. Kan, we pray that one day, when you judge us worthy, our beloved Folst shall greet us at the seat of your benevolence.”
The old priest felt uplifted and in a brief moment, he saw the granny’s calm face smiling upon them from the swirling vortex of souls. One which was clearly visible only to powerful arcanists like Rolan, and those of holy vocation like himself. In a flash the vision was gone and Joel caught Keryln new facial expression—somber calm.
“A dozen squires, Lem among them, will escort the elders back to their places early afternoon. Aeriale will meet me at granny Folst’s home then.” – said his son as the shield changed shoulders again.
He massaged his son’s shoulder silently releasing one of his minor restoration prayers and pointed the next street with a reassuring smile – “Come on son, only two more and these are short. I promise there is not a single loitering buffoon here!”
Finally, his son’s hesitant smile blossomed and together, they shouted – “Warm yer bloood! Watch for frooost!”
Following two hours of shouting and walking, carrying Joel’s tower shield, Keryln was visibly tired. Indeed, just as he assured his boy, at these two short side streets, the young men and women were beloved both by parent and neighbor. Everyone was well dressed and had already done whatever chore they and their friends need do in preparation for the Frost. Calm, despite the horrid weird magic slaughter, these youths and their parents made sure to stock up on cheer before Frosty gloom overtook their home street.
They sat at a stone porch for a couple of minutes; Joel more to rest his creaking joints and Keryln, his tired shoulders. There was that elven family, their girl Judy he delivered the same Frost when he saved Keryln from the gale. ‘Tis was the wholesome caress of Mother Mara, the priest thought to himself with a fond smirk on his face. The Doula always ended up somewhere his little bundles of hope grew!
“Ye grow up a peaceful man, my boy.” – said Joel with a fatherly smile, grabbing his shield from Keryln.
“Father, why are you saying this?” – asked his boy, a worried frown replacing the smile on his face.
“Ahh, forgive this old man his whimsy. Us dwarves always say things like this more than once... you know... so they stick!” – the priest chuckled, his thumb pointed at the nearby house – “Now go to your friend. I have one of my babies to visit, see if she is growing up strong and healthy.”
Keryln’s eyes calmed and the boy cracked his shoulders, before giving him a hug.
He used this opportunity to wink at him and waggling a finger in his face, advised him – “Son, and if that wonderful young lass of yours still fancies you when she grows up, ye better make sure she is not alone.”
Cheeks and elven ears flushed red, his son avowed a hesitant protest – “But daaad, Aeriale is my friend!”
“But my boy, this is how all good things start! Now run as fast as you can and be with your friend.” – laughed Joel and grabbed Keryln by the shoulder, playfully nudging him away.
He watched how his boy ran in the distance powered with youthful energy, one hand holding his warm hat, waving him goodbye.
* * *
Keryln and Aeriale did not have to explore granny Folst’s small pantry for long.
There was a whole row of jars with his name on them! Some she obviously packed full with her beloved, crisp crunchy dark-green gherkins. However, the rest were all stuffed to the brim with delicious beyond measure pickled elven radishes. Layered in between were thick slices of red onions, whole garlic cloves, fresh spices, and of course, the marinate.
“Elven Tonsheia! Granny Folst gave me her secret recipe a ninth before... before...” – mumbled Aeriale and tears ran down her face.
Though he maintained a stern facade, Keryln’s heart twisted inside, as he hugged his friend. They remained there in the pantry, for a good few minutes, until Aeriale calmed down and stopped sobbing. Eyes red, the girl asked him – “Do you... does anyone know how it happened?”
He shook his head and here eyes watered again.
“Master Dalen showed me that old comb and dad asked if I remembered anything, which I did not.” – said Keryln and, with one idea flashing in his mind he grabbed one of the jars.
Giving Aeriale a smiling look, he carried it over to the table and popped the lid open – “I stomped around all day carrying father’s shield shouting blood and frost, and I am absolutely famished!”
Keryln was right that his friend’s mood would recover, at least a bit, for she loved cooking good food. They silently ate a few of the pickled veggies, savoring their crunchy deliciousness, before Aeriale used granny’s kitchen, made a sticky batter and fried them in lard. The marinate did not go to waste as they slowly drank it, snacking on cloves of garlic and the loaf she baked this morn at Lady Thaliel’s kitchen.
The rest of the afternoon they spent cleaning the empty home and loading what possessions and supplies granny Folst had stocked for the Frost on a small hand cart. These, including every single jar of pickles and the Tonsheia they hauled at The Sonsy Maid. Tired Aeriale did not want to let him go and fell asleep on a sofa, while he sat beside holding her hand.
Lady Thaliel came downstairs and wrapped the two in a blanket, stocking her fireplace well so they would have a warm, good night sleep. Neither knew what pain the morning would bring...
* * *
Joel spent his afternoon catching up with that family, showering them and their little daughter Judy with blessings. They in turn did not spare hospitality, feeding him simple, yet delectable treats. He did not know that Judy’s father was a brewer and enjoyed a big flagon of blue ale, giving them his expert doula advice. It was necessary since the good wife was with child once more there was a good chance they’d have the babe on their own after Frost came.
Late evening when he finally left, the dwarf gave them his spare regenerative elixir, just in case the woman suffered complications.
Shield strapped on his shoulder, Joel began tracking back towards Temple Square. He’d made a few paces when something made him go where Keryln stumbled out of the snowy gale all beaten and bloody. By his prudent dwarven nature, the priest made sure to chant the very same prayers he did back then, augmenting his sight. Irises glowing red, Joel walked deep inside that wynd and his hand was ready to draw the Deliverer.
Just like he’d done many a time since adopting Keryln, the priestly dwarf explored every nook and cranny.
Nothing.
This was a dead end street, tight and twisty, there were token few homes here and Captain Brelain’s knights had searched them all. Empty they rightfully claimed these tiny abodes were, void of anything interesting, nary a bit of trash even. Not even the Red Hoods, and they did ask around thoroughly, could find any clues or evidence of a bloody fight. Neighbors here remembered no family with a child slain and he was sure that they did not lie, for the Hoods knew so.
Many an evening did Joel spend here, walking, thinking, searching, until dawn came and he rushed back to Temple, where little Keryln woke up from his nightmares drenched in cold sweat. The dwarf was about to go yet he halted himself mid-step. Suddenly, something made an impression to him and he actually gasped, his augmented by prayer eyes wide open.
At the very end of this wynd, there was an area strangely cleansed of debris still. Yes, and he could see there were tiny bits of grime, broken items like clay cups, pots, but nothing bigger. So many Turns had passed yet still, too clean was this wynd! Others would’ve already been clogged with piles of discarded items, anything which could burn long since chopped for firewood. They’d all searched here for clues so meticulously, so intensely, that they forgot the street was a clue on itself!
Joel had a thought and mumbled to himself – “Disintegration...”
One of the walls behind him twitched as he said that and the dwarf stopped dead in his tracks.
“Took you long enough.” – whispered a ghostly voice, eloquent words coming from everywhere and nowhere.
“Show yourselves!” – shouted Joel, and chanted another prayer, rays of golden light emanating from his helm showering every single brick and cobbled stone, Deliverer drawn its blade burning.
Before him stood tall a shifty-looking being, its limbs long and crooked, a nasty opaque in color substance dripping from its maw. Yet where there should’ve been a face, eyes, ears, there was a darkly pit. Two greenish flickers shaped themselves into something resembling irises and when these focused on Joel, he felt something squeezing inside his chest.
“Brolf?!” – grumbled the dwarf and with every bit of strength left rebuked the force which attempted to crush his heart and lungs – “But ye was slain!”
“My brave Brolf, he did indeed fell for his queen.” – gargled the fully manifested being as its shapes smoldered under the hallowed light Joel had prayed around him – “Irreplaceable as he was, what I actually am still quite baffled and after so many Turns is... How hath not thee fallen under my ensorcellement yet?”
Terrible pain course through every fiber of Joel’s body, yet even after spitting blood, he remained upright. The thing, Brolf or whatever it was, gazed at him with ever growing intensity, a sphere of weird magics trying and failing to bring the dwarf down.
“Tell me beast... wheeze... before I smite thee... was it you who killed Keryln’s... cough... parents?”
“Collecting their every hope and dream, just like those of all the insignificants in recent Turns—all has transpired according to our benevolent wishes.” – the thing gave out a sticky sound as it spoke, its words laden with audible disappointment – “The loss of all those ensorcelled, failures that they were, still, it was quite the waste.”
Ready to attack, the monstrum’s shapes had somewhat lessened, though damaged by holy light, the thing still gargled with its horrid voice – “Dwarf, where others bowed down before me, it would seem that your heart, feeble as it is, would not bend. Perish you must, together with your so called friends, for Keryln... my experiment to succeed.”
“My boy will not be your plaything!” – roared he and attacked, Deliverer clashing with limbs made of opaque darkness.
For what he thought was a long hour, Joel fought with everything he had. His life-blood seeped through the pavement’s cracks and with each might blow he received, the dwarf returned one of his own. Shield of metal blessed by olden prayer, it withstood many a hit yet, even this mighty armament of priestly warriors shattered. One arm lost, still, he replied in kind and blow for terrible blow.
Armor of enchanted steel, the plated mail too repelled many a deadly blows before it too, was ripped to shreds. Denied the monstrum’s vile touch did the priest’s wondrous red robe, burning pieces of ichorous “flesh” whenever another blow landed, protecting the Marrite from strife.
However, no matter their sturdiness, each of these defenses were made by and for mortal men. They could hold the onslaught of elden beast and monstrous magics, but only for only so long.
Heart slowly crushed, nevertheless, the priest continued to fight way beyond anything remotely possible for another man. Such was the pain he’d endured, that at times Joel smiled comparing these attacks with what noble mothers endured, and some who even died so their children would see the light of life.
Yet soon even he who now barely drew breath, realized that his doom was nigh. With his last ounce of strength Joel focused all the suffering he’d long since kept within his soul. Yells of brutal pain, he remembered many a thousand, whole Turns worth of them! But after, there always came the cry of the newborn, one which he’d enabled by the grace of his own sacrifice and mercy of goddess Mara.
Glowing bright red, Deliverer bit deep in whatever passed for flesh of the monstrous being battling him. Unearthly wallow followed and the thing diminished! Before fallen Joel, his noble heart now forever silent, there bubbled a puddle of opaque color. A vile limb emerged from it and slithered towards Joel’s broken remains, intent on looting his sword.
“Now a minor setback, yet with this sword an experiment successful.” – gargled the being, debased cheer in its voice.
A beam of silvery light poured out of the sky and hit Joel. In a flash his body and every tiny bit of ruined armor was gone, including the Deliverer, and the monstrum screeched, it wallowed, and it roared enraged.
Minutes passed.
Bubbling, the trace of it turning into dust, eventually this vile puddle crept into a nearby crevice, poured together with city refuse through sewage tunnels. Vanishing without a trace, it became one with the dungenous depths beneath the olden metropolis. Not until an opportune time to complete its so called experiment, would this monstrum slither back into the shadows above...
[Ninth] — Krartian weeks are nine days.
[Turn] — This is a planetary rotation numbering seventeen thirty five day months.
[MWF] — The greatest magical wrestling federation ever!
Oh wow. Makes me so sad for Keryln. 😭
This is sad 😭😭😭