Shadowlord (Chapter II)

Be sure to read "Shadowlord (Chapter I)"  first!

Chapter II

         Taalg Xatomosthe thanked the gods for the rain cloud that had drifted over the fiery circle of burning heat that loomed over all of Khor, and asked that it stay so that its cooling shade and rain may be fully appreciated by the people of Palanotm. He pitied the poor souls in the other parts of the land that had no cloud blocking the sun, and had to suffer its heat through the day and hope that the night would cool off the land. He hoped that a day possessing such heat as this would never have to come again in this lifetime.
The sky that had brought such devastating heat only hours before was now black and gloomy. Rain started to fall in light but steady intervals. As Taalg’s journey to his foster-father’s inn threatened to end, he slowed and welcomed the rain. At first the rain was warm and miserable, but soon it started to cool itself, thus cooling the land which invited it wholeheartedly. Soon it began to rain steady, falling fast and hard. The wind picked up, and a rainstorm, which the country need so badly, began to develop.
By the time Taalg reached the inn door, he was completely soaked through his cloak. He cracked open the door and slid through, so not to let the wind through, though he was not so sure that the customers would not welcome this. He stood there, looking through the drunkards, all of them rejoicing and toasting to the rain, for Kenth, his foster-father. Taalg knew little of his real father, only that he died in some great battle in the past. He figured that his father must have been a warrior who died in one of the Great Wars past. Taalg would enroll in the human guard some day, and try to be as great a warrior as he made out his father to be. At questioning if this theory was correct, Kenth just shrugged and changed the subject.
         Of his mother, Taalg knew nothing. Whenever he asked his foster-father about his mother, all he got was; “I think she died of a very deadly disease shortly after you were born. Or maybe it was that day when that dragon scorched the countryside. I’m getting old, and I can’t remember your mom too much, it was a long time ago.” Taalg pictured her to be a beautiful woman with long hair. He couldn’t decide if she should have had brown, black, or blond hair. That was something he kept to think about on those long nights when he couldn’t sleep.
         Taalg, although he never bothered to ask Kenth, wondered why he could remember how his dad had died, but not his mother. Taalg hadn’t been alive during any past wars, but that seemed to be fresher in his foster-father’s mind. He figured Kenth’s story impossible; how could it be true if his father had died long before he was born? Someday, Taalg was determined he would get the truth out of Kenth. He had to know. He would get more details, maybe even a name sometime, if he was lucky and Kenth had had a particularly large amount of ale that night. He would know exactly how his father really died. He would find out who he was. There was a feeling inside of him that his parents were special, but Kenth said that that was how all foster-children felt, and Taalg figured him as right.
         Taalg found Kenth behind the bar, conversing with some men as if they were long-time friends, though Taalg, who had lived here most of his life, did not recognize them.
         "Kenth!" he cried out over the noise of the drunkards. He walked over to his foster-father.
         "Men," Kenth threw his arm around Taalg's shoulder, "my son, Taalg."
         The men greeted him with cold grunts, obviously not intrested in this man's son.
         "Hey Taalg, those people sitting over there in the corner wanted to see you. They say that it's very important." Kenth sighed, "I don't want to know what you've set ablaze this time!"
         “Why is it father, that every time I have a visitor you think that I’ve set the whole town on fire?”
         “Because last time you had a visitor you had left them homeless! Do you know how much it costs to support them?” it was more of a statement than a question.
         Taalg, having heard that comment more than one time before, ignored it and turned to his visitors. He regarded them coolly, observing them before he revealed himself. There were three visitors, and as his eyes passed over them, the next was the exact opposite class of the other. The first seemed to be a warrior. He wore a Gothic Plate Mail, the ancient armor worn by the order of knights that fought gallantly and bravely to drive away the demon armies and win the Demon Wars. The shoulders of the mail were gold plated, shining brightly in the pale candlelight, as was each individual plate lined with gold. On the breastplate was the insignia of a lion, distinguishing the order of his knighthood. On the table in front of him sat his full helm, which also was lined with gold. Taalg couldn’t see a weapon, but he was sure that the warrior was armed. Leaning against his chair was a Gothic Shield, though he could see no pattern painted on it as the front was facing the warrior. As Taalg observed the man’s features, the found that the man was human. His long, shaggy, dark black hair hung to about his shoulders. His facial features were deep and intimidating, and there was a scar above his right eye. He looked like a seasoned warrior that Taalg would not want to make enemies with.
         Now his gaze moved to the woman sitting next to him. She wore silver robes, though Taalg knew that that meant nothing as to her alignment, as classification by robe color had been abandon since the Magi War. Silver was a color of the good dragons, but that was about all Taalg knew of the old classification. In her hand the woman, who Taalg assumed was a sorceress, was a magical staff. The shaft was a pale crimson that seemed to glow, though it gave off no light. Winding down and around the crimson shaft was a silver serpent, beautiful in a dangerous way. It’s face had a fierce expression upon it and its eyes glowed with a green mist. Upon the top of the staff was the headpiece. It was of a silver dragon’s claw gripping a pearl orb. The hood of the sorceresses robe was drawn back, reveling her black hair that hung lower than the warrior’s and delicately carved features, and slightly pointed ears. Her face was beautiful, but what really captured Taalg were her eyes. They were all white…too white. There was no iris of pupil in the white. Just white. The sorceress turned her gaze to him, her hollow eyes penetrating deep into his soul. He felt as if he were reveling his innermost secrets to this stranger. Yet the whole time his lips remained sealed, and it seemed as the thought that were arising in his mind were not his own. Taalg gazed back into the void of her eyes, and found that the sight did not frighten him, as it should. He never got that eerie feeling all of his senses told him to have; he never even flinched under her squelching gaze. He was about to look away, despite the unseen force resisting his command, when a normal black pupil and an iris of bright green color appeared in the sorceresses eyes. Strange as it may be to picture others with bright green eyes, it seemed fitting for this woman. It was just…right.
         The third companion seemed to be a warrior as well as the first, but there was something distinguishing him as not so. He wore a full plate mail, and plain helm sat on the table in front of him. There was nothing special about his armor or helm, it had no gold plating or lining, no insignia on the breastplate. This human man was not a knight, Taalg could tell that much, but he could not make out what class he came from. After much thought and many theories, Taalg figured that he was probably a knight-in-training, not yet awarded the Gothic Plate Mail with the insignia of a lion. The top of the man’s shield peeked above the table as it rested against it to see what was happening. It was a Kite Shield, divided into four colors, silver, gold, blue, and red, each occupying its own portion divided by a cross in the middle. The man sat drinking a glass of ale, and when he put it down, after wiping the foam off of his face, Taalg could see his face. His features were surprisingly soft and gentle, not intimidating like his other male companion’s. His brown hair was to his ears, where it settled, tickling the top of them. There were no scars on his face that Taalg could make out, and it seemed as if this man had never seen a battle. The man seemed big with his armor on, but still, Taalg wanted to get on his good side.
         Taalg approached the table and spoke, “You are the travelers looking for one Taalg Xatomosthe?” he asked.
         “Yes, we are.” It was the sorceress who spoke. “Yes, it is you we seek.”
         This didn’t surprise Taalg coming from the sorceress somehow. He had no idea how much they knew about him, maybe they had gotten a description somewhere, or maybe she used her magic.
         “This does not surprise you? Well, I’m sure you’ll have your share of surprises by the end of the day.” The sorceress paused, “by the way, my friend here is no apprentice, but I’ll let him elaborate.
         “My name is Que-Mora Pnithos, and, as you may have guessed, I am a sorceress. I am one who believes in the Ways of the Order, though I am not a true One of the Order of old, but I follow all they have. I see you have many questions as of why such an odd band of travelers came to see you, an ordinary young man getting along in the world. I assure you, all of the questions that you have that we can answer at this time, will be answered. Now I will let my companions introduce themselves properly.” She nodded to the knight and closed her eyes.
         “My name is Falthos Sithenara, and I am a Knight of Truth,” he looked down and gestured at the insignia on his breastplate and continued in his deep voice, “I am from the Order of Lions, the lions symbolizing bravery and strength. We are the same order who fought in the Last Battle, though it was not our fighting that won. That can wait for later, though. We have been searching this part of Prytris for long months, and now we have found you, before they could get to you.” His voice trailed off and Taalg shivered. What exactly had he meant? Before who could get to you?
         “Yes, yes. Now, my name is Tranth,” the man on the other side of Que-Mora spoke, breaking the silence that had followed the knight’s speech. “I understand you thought that I was an apprentice, and though I can understand your reasoning, your thoughts are erroneous. I am one of the few Paladins left in the world. Tell me Taalg, what do you know of Paladins?” His voice was as soft and gentle as his voice, and Taalg knew he had completely misjudged the man.
         “Not much,” Taalg admitted, though he knew some about wars of the past, he didn’t know what role Paladins played. “I know that they were all knights at one time, but later the knights separated into two groups, Paladins and knights, though I don’t know why this happened.”
         “Yes, we seemed to have been all but forgotten after the Great Divide. As you know, we Paladins were once knights. Knights feared and distrusted magic; they couldn’t fathom the powers it held. They were afraid that magic would replace steel as the chosen weapon of the world, and, though they did not commit any crimes against their Code by trying to rid the world of this artifice, for that was what they saw it as. Instead, the Code restricted the use of magic by any knight. Though Paladins, still true to the code, knew that magic could be more than destructive fireballs and such, we could bend it’s powers much as clerics do, and when we sent men to research this holy purpose, we were excluded from knighthood. Many men came with us and joined our beliefs, still keeping the Code to heart, but editing one little part. The use of destructive magic was completely restricted. Healing arts were our specialty magic, magic to aid our guide. Though separated, the knights and Paladins stayed acquaintances, and sometimes would even call on the other for assistance. As our studies grew more intense, the request for study of defensive magic emerged. The request was granted, but soon self-defense magic was developed. Though it was a defense enchantment, it was completely forbidden.
         “One night there was a raid on a small encampment of knights. Survivors claimed that it was be half a dozen men wearing Paladin armor. During the attack, one man stood upon a large rock and declared, ‘We will not rest until all of the good the knights stand for has been destroyed!’ Then the man cast a horrifying spell; a bolt of lightening struck him, turning his armor black, then shot towards any innocents, passing through them and leaving them dead. It was a slaughter, and few survived. That man, know as Zaael, became the Dark Paladin. The Dark Paladin, also known as the Lord of Shadows, disappeared after his men were hunted down by the knights. The Council of Light was horrified at how far the study of magic had gone, and ordered that all magic study be abandon. The knights blamed the creation of the Lord of Shadows on the Paladins, and they became mortal enemies. This was known as the Great Divide.
         “The Paladins would not take responsibility for the creation of this Dark Paladin, and, though the knights saw the threat of Zaael over, continued searching for him. They finally found him, but swords and healing spells did no good against this powerful foe. Though more trusting of magi than knights, the Paladins still distrusted them, but were forced to call on the help of a powerful mage named Raqa. Raqa agreed to help and refused any reward or payment for his help. Raqa was there when the next encounter with the Dark Paladin transpired, and fought a short but exhausting, earthshaking battle against the Lord of Shadows. When the dust cleared, both of their dead bodies lay covered with a light coat of dust and dirt. Afraid that there were still followers of his dark arts, the Paladins captured his essence within a large urn, and banished it to,” he paused a moment, “well, that’s none of your business. They were afraid, since they had no idea how far the Dark Paladin and his followers’ studies had gone, that he would be revived. They enchanted the urn with a defensive magic resistant spell and made the urn unbreakable. They sealed it with magic and no one has ever seen it again.
         “So you see,” Tranth sighed and took a deep breath, “you see, the people’s knowledge seems to end after the Great Divide, and have no clue as to the role Paladins play in the safety of the world. We see, at the rate Zaael’s power was growing, we eliminated the single most threat the world would have ever seen. All of this took place during the Demon Wars, so people overlooked our victory. We don’t know if the Lord of Shadows had any connection with the Demon Wars, but we must find out, some how.”
         “What makes you think that Zaael and the Demon Wars are connected?” Taalg inquired. “I thought the high threat in the Demon Wars was the Demon Lord.”
         “Yes, that is the popular belief. Though the last battle with the Demon Lord before he was captured in the Crystal Ring proved his powers, for the powers of the Diamonds almost failed-”
         “Diamonds?” Taalg interrupted. He had never heard of Diamonds before. “I thought that it was the overwhelming power of the mysterious Bearer of the First Ring who trapped the Demon Lord in the Crystal Ring.”
         “There are only bits of truth in your knowledge of the past,” Tranth informed him. Taalg was growing more confused every moment. Taalg started to wonder if these strangers, who he had only known for a few moments, were selling him a bushel of lies.
         “What my friend speaks is true,” Que-Mora spoke, her eyes still closed. Her voice was shrill and brought him back to reality. He once again became aware of his surroundings; the inn, the noise of the drunkards around him, the thunder of the now well-developed furious thunderstorm raging outside. Taalg had been mesmerized by the tale of the history of the Paladins in which he knew so little about. “I can tell that you think he is selling you a ‘bushel of lies,’ but this little history lesson is true and very important.”
         “Why is knowing the past so important of things to come about in the future? The past had already happened and cannot be changed.” He now had more questions then before the travelers started to introduced themselves.
         “When the dangers of the past rise again in a different form, you will be prepared.”
“I will be prepared! What are you talking about, if anything ever happens, I will have no part in it.” These people must be crazy, Taalg added silently.
         “Let us finish before your decision is made.”
         “What decision!” Taalg bellowed in anger. “There is no decision to be made! I don’t even know what you are talking about!”
         “That is because you won’t let us finish.” Que-Mora was right. He had no clue as to what they were talking about because he had not let them tell him.
         “Fine,” Taalg surrendered, “I will let you finish. But be warned, I will have no part in any ‘dangers of the past!’”
         “You say that now, but for now, that agreement is fair,” this time it was Tranth who spoke. He shifted his position in his chair and took a deep breath before continuing. “As I said, your knowledge of the past has only bits of truth. It was this mysterious Bearer of the First Ring who banished the Demon Lord to an eternity in the Crystal Ring. But it was not his power alone that was able to defeat him. He had control over three very powerful diamonds; one silver, one red, and the other green. Each was created by one of the guilds of the Magi of the Order, each imbued with the power of that order. As you may know, Magi of the Order get the height of their powers by bonding their spirits with the dragon of that color. There were never green dragons in this world, so the green Diamond was imbued with the power of nature, which was one of the two neutral orders. Later the blue dragons and their guild were seduced into the evil arts, leaving the balance upset. This unbalance resulted in the Magi War, which scattered the guilds and ended the balance all together. The world has been uneasy since, leaving it more vulnerable to disaster ever since. Shortly after the Magi War ended, a conflict sparked between the good and evil dragons. The evil dragons, now outnumbering the gold and silver good dragons with their newly acquired ally, the green dragons, had a great advantage. But they let this advantage go to their heads, and their tactics were reckless. The gold and silver fought ferociously with superior tactics, and during the last battle of the dragon war, one cast a spell, which is thought to have destroyed all of the dragons. But we know better. Que-Mora has sensed the dragons’ power and we are sure that they are still alive, still empowering two of the diamonds. The balance was thus more upset, leaving an event of chaos ready to strike the world. These previous wars left the people of Khor uneasy, untrusting of any other race. The elves fought among themselves and, the dwarfs seeing this, decided that it was the time to rid the world of this menace. This resulted in the Elven Wars, the most recent war in our history. The balance of good and evil in this world is far off equilibrium, and now we are afraid that evil will use this to their advantage. The diamonds were lost after the banishing of the Demon Lord, and only one has the power to find them,” he looked at his female companion, “and that is Que-Mora. She has been trying to locate their frequency of power for some time now, and we have recovered one of the gems, the Diamond of the Gold. We are afraid that the Diamond of Earth, the green one, is in the hands of the enemy.”
         “Who exactly is the enemy?” Taalg asked after he had calmed down.
         “During her recent meditations, Que-Mora has sensed two very large forces of darkness. We are not sure who the second of these may be, we are afraid that one of them are the followers of the Demon Lord, bent on freeing him from his eternal prison. That must not be allowed. We have already warned the Fortress of Wizardry to increase security.”
         “And where do I come into this?” Taalg had been wondering during the whole lecture.
         “Tell me, Taalg, what do you know of your father?”
         “Not much, my foster-father says that he died in a war just before I was born.”
         “Well, he lied-”
         “I’m not surprised, half of the time he tries to sell me his lies he’s drunk on a weeks worth of ale.” Taalg interrupted Tranth.
         “Do you know if he even knew your father?” Falthos, who had not spoken since he introduced himself, uttered in a deep rough voice.
         “No, I’m not sure.”
         “Well, he didn’t,” this time it was Tranth who spoke. “The mysterious Bearer of the First Ring was your father, and he banished the Demon Lord over two hundred years ago.”


Be sure to read "Shadowlord (Chapter III)" !

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