Index:
Episode 1 - The League of Iron assembles
Episode 3 - Legacy of the Veil Breakers
Episode 7 - Home is where the hearth is
Episode 8 - Last of the Old Ones
Episode 12 - Mistress of Flesh
Episode 15 - March of the parasites
Morrow.
Dawn's golden hands gleamed gracilely through the foliage. The bringer of all mornings caressed frost-covered leaf and algid branch with her rose-fingered rays. Tree, shrub, grass, and flower awoke, and joined the hum of the Elden growth. Frost transmogrified into warm vapor and droplets of pearly dew embraced Dawn's light, for the joy of little bug and forest critter alike.
Mother Forest stretched her verdant shapes and breathed her life-giving breath upon they, who were about to quest in defense of Life. Elden tree roots whispered of the Four who doomed life-stealing cadaverous wizards, and, one after another, every daughter of this forest knew to expect them.
“Even the simplest of breakfasts taste beyond delicious here. I thank thee, Vayila, for gracing us with thine loving light!” - Hummed the happy Elf, his face touched by a golden ray, and even his eyes were smiling.
“Must be Dawn's wholesome glow at work! We had cups of morning dew tea thanks to her warmth.” - The Dwarf had just scrubbed his metallic cooking mug clean, and chewed his last bite.
“Smoked blork sausages, sweet forest root, rocco eggs, elven salt, and a slice of Neldaeiri rye bread toasted in the skillet with some herbal butter.” - shared his recipe the Knight, who was last to finish his portion since he prepared all of it - “This is indeed the simplest of recipes us knights of Iron learn during our neophyte days.”
“Next time I am making our Temple's 'simple' Rocco stew with canned meat, and fresh mushyrooms.” - chuckled the priest as he showed them a sealed, earthen pot, from his seemingly bottomless travel pack.
Waxed linen tied with a thick piece of packthread ensured that said pot would not spoil anytime soon, but it was the recognizable head of a Rocco etched on the surface, which made the sorceress raise an eyebrow.
“Of the rainbow-feathered Rocco birds I know, master Knight, and song-strong Priest. Yet, I have never seen one of these tasty blorks, not even read about them in my books.” - The Sorceress said and joined the Dwarf in cleaning their wooden plates and cutlery.
His were handmade and probably by a child since all animals they were engraved with appeared preposterously misshapen. Some had wide eyes, crooked, toothy grins, or heads a bit too large for their limbs to support, but the Ranger washed them with a happy smile.
“They look like this,” - and the Elf made a funny impression followed by a squealing sound - “and sound like that. Three paces long, four elbows tall, and one pace wide. These long-tusked fatties can eat all your leftovers and then squeal for more! They also grow fluffy fleeces, which one can knit warm clothes from.”
He rummaged through his backpack and produced four sets of black woolen gloves.
“So cozy this glove and I can even wear it under my armor!” - the Knight was yet to put his full set of armor and tested how the one finger glove felt - “Don't tell me you asked your wife to knit these for us.”
They saw the priestly elven face blush.
“No, 'twas my granny who made them.”
“Your grandparent is mighty skilled, friend.” - agreed the Dwarf, when he finally donned the comfy gloves, and shaking the water off his wooden plate, added - “I wish your future wife is just as masterful, if not better!”
They all laughed, yet none witnessed their sorcerous companion's hidden tear.
The Four swiftly cleaned the olden campsite. Ashes were quickly gifted to nearby plants, bread crumbs fed to chirping birds, all travel gear packed, and weapons secured. However, they wouldn't dare touch certain things, which would forever be their mark upon the olden ruins.
Three in number, the wizard-shaped trees stood like statues of times long gone. A poignant reminder to those who defied Creation's rule and dared rip through the Veil between Life and Death, that all actions had consequences most permanent. In the morning light, these once deathly dangerous, horrid to behold figures looked meek. Their bark-covered wooden faces a definite improvement over moldy bone and rotten skin.
The Ranger was able to recover his masterfully forged arrows, yet these were no longer dipped in the lifeblood of the Elden ones. Mayhap one day the three saplings would grow famous, attract traveler and, if the Four's quest was successful, pilgrims. First things first, however, before they forged ahead, certain preparations had to be taken and words, spoken.
Adopting a questing formation of old; the Ranger ahead, the Knight behind him, the Sorceress in the middle, and the Priest at the back, they invested a single hour to practice their moves. It was tradition for each Four to get accustomed with their companions' weapons reach, and moves in formation, before battle was joined.
There was yet another ancient custom the questers need follow...
“Olden tradition it is for companions like ourselves to share our names on the first day of the Quest. You know that many a Four never saw a morrow, and thus the Sharing of the Names happens come dawn, on the Quest's first day.” - The Knight reminded them, his visor lifted, and left hand on his chest, so they kept a hundred breaths of silence in honor of the fallen.
They formed a perfect square and looked at each other, the Neldaeir first to Share:
“First Brother Dalnor of the Iron Knights Order, blade and mind at your service.”
The Elf bowed his helmeted head, raised the long axe and sang:
“Guardian Chanter Ainhart of the Vayila Temple, may Her blessing be upon us all.”
Sword raised in the air, the noble Dwarf declared:
“I, Chief Forester Gelduin of the Elden Rangers, will always find the true path!”
Hands holding the spear above her head, the Sorceress graced them with a half-smile:
“Arkan Spear Bearer Eirunn, this humble servant of Creation is here to guard your minds and heal your bodies.”
The square was broken and the Four swiftly assumed their traveling formation. Donning their thick, hooded cloaks, led by the Noble Dwarf, the companions made haste through leisurely forest trails and sunny backroads. Their goal was a fortified Ranger outpost; one of many such forts which marked the border of their olden forest and the ruined lands.
The Four made good progress, their boots unimpeded by mud or vegetation. Stewards of these forests, the Rangers made sure all paths, even the hidden ones, were clean. In peace, travelers and merchants from all over Alkiorn came to visit. In war, the defenders of this land required swift passage across the Elden Forest, for any tardiness could mean the death of thousands.
“I know it is near, this fort of yours, Chief Gelduin, but how close?” - Asked the Knight when the Four stopped for a quick breather and a drink of water.
Their Ranger led them to a hidden glade, where the awed Neldaeir knelt before one fully preserved drinking fountain. The crystal-blue waters filled a square basin, and flowed out of a statue in the marvelous form of some ancient aquatic denizen, no one knew the name of. Spared by Father Time, the polished gray stonework of Elves and Neldaeiri was pristine. Only the chaotic grin of moss and grass disturbed the orderly face of this ancient construction.
“Worry not, with this pace, we will reach my hometown this afternoon.” - The noble Dwarf reassured his companions, as he refilled a waterskin made of strange, metallic-looking fabric.
“That our Ranger hails from our last port of entry before we traverse the Ruined Lands, is a boon. Temple gave me an allowance for supplies and such, though 'tis not overly large.” - Mumbled the Elf, while he rummaged through his backpack, finger counting with his free hand.
“Rest assured, every coin will be well-spent. I shall negotiate the best possible deal with my brother in law; his is the biggest general store in town.”
“I will thank Vayila in my next verse-prayer, before sleep.” - Grateful, the priest nodded.
“What about lodging and food, master Ranger? I would like it very much to have a hot bath, and rest my head on a linen pillow, before my feet tread upon curst land.” - Asked Eirunn and sniffed the sleeve of her garment.
The Sorceress drank her full, and observed how random droplets of water lost their crystal-blue glow, as soon as they touched her bronze-forged bracelet. Without being told, her companions had refilled their waterskins and she did exactly the same. This drinking fountain was not just beautiful, but endowed with Neldaeiri magicks. She filled one of her empty glass phials with this water and carefully stashed it in her potion box.
“You are welcome to stay in my home. I did not know if they'd pick me to become part of the Four, though I built my house with two guest rooms, and a bath.” - The Dwarf chuckled when Eirunn gave him the eye - “And you, my dear She-Arkan, can sleep in my daughters' bedroom.”
Facing his companions' confused looks, the Ranger first pointed to his shortsword's sheath and the six braids, before he elaborated:
“Five braids from each of my daughters and the sixth is, Osnhild's, my wife. I assure you, they knew full well exactly what duty their father volunteered for.”
“But what happens if we...we...” - Eirunn's words stuck like a lump in her throat.
“Fail?” - Gelduin finished her sentence, and with a playful shrug said:
“I trained myself to protect the ones I love. Makes no sense to hide behind tall walls, while the fate of our kin is decided elsewhere. I fall beside you, my companions, I die in defense of everyone, my wife and daughters understand that.”
He patted the sheath and gave his companions a sign that their break is over. The Four were walking for about one hour, when Ainhart asked from the rearguard:
“Your lovely wife, she would suffer me in her kitchen, yes? I kind of broke the canned Rocco meat pot and since throwing away food is a sin...”
“Dare I ask you to forage some big mushyrooms for the stew, Master Forester?” - Ainhart asked, the damaged pot in his backpack releasing a most delicious aroma of canned in blork fat Rocco meat.
Gelduin and Dalnor laughed, and even Eirunn's otherwise saddened face was adorned by a wider than usual grin, as she chortled, hand covering her mouth.
Indeed, the path ahead appeared safe, and their guide knew this forest better than his own beard. Their quest may not have started without trouble, yet, as the ancient Neldaeiri oft said:
“The morrow is omniscient and the evening slumbers.”
***
Dear reader, if you liked this story, you might enjoy my published work.
Interesting lore focused chapter, love the world-building here and the talk of 'granny'.
Loving each line of this episode. So glad the sorcerious got to smile.