Cry of the Fox: Opening Test

Aragne took of the amulet around her neck and placed it among the candles on the table. She took in the smoke of the scented candles and started to allow her mind to wander. At first nothing happened then her vision blurred. Her blue eyes turned cold and grey and she was in a different world. A world where time had no meaning and future and past lay side by side, a world of blue fog and white lights. She perceived the other world, the real world, as if looking through a window. Sometimes it took hours to find something meaningful or interesting but today it was almost immediate. The blue fog parted as she saw the city of Partino. It was buzzing with excitement, happy to be alive. At the corners of each street were entertainers, some breathing fire others juggling knifes. Her gaze was pulled towards the ivory tower: a large white tower rising up from the center of De Loas Castle.  The day turned dark and white clouds blackened. A storm appeared almost instantly over the city and it started to rain. People rushed inside and soon the entire city was swallowed by the water. Lightning struck down like pillars of fire and the ground cracked open revealing flames of darkness and magic. The world was fading again. Blue fog covered the knowledge she needed. Aragne tried to hold on. But before she could do anything she was back sitting in a small chamber in front of a desk of scented candles. She sighed, throwing out all the emotion that had been pushed in her by this vision. She quickly took the amulet from the desk and hung it around her neck. Then with one clear thought she jumped up. “I must warn my son.”
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Light fell into the large throne-room of Duke Azemar de Loas. It passed the stained glass and dropped colourful beams of light on the gathered court. Among them was a bard, Colin Carpenter, he was brought before the Duke to perform. Azemar sat on his throne. His long brown hairs covered the seat as a large cloak and his beard hid most of his pale face and body from sight. The man had not been busy with his personal hygiene since he lost his eyesight.

Adriana, his wife, was sitting on his left hand side. She did not seem impressed with the room, but the room was in awe of her. She had an angel’s face with beautiful red lips and eyes like lakes underneath a clear blue sky with the blond curls of her long hair forming sandy beaches. She did not love Azemar and Azemar did not love her. He considered her boring, she considered him disgusting. But they endured one another because no woman but her would love him and no man would give her the status she had to today.

On his right hand side was Orval, a young squire, who was writing everything Azemar said down. He came from a long line of knights. Eight brothers, each of them had served the army but Orval, the runt of the family, could not even carry a sword. So, out of respect for the family, Azemar made him his personal squire.

Colin smiled at the gathered grown and his brown eyes glittered. He smiled at everyone and even shot a wink at the ladies. He was a performer, a man that had filled many stages, who now had the pleasure and honor to entertain a great leader. Colin enjoyed performing for the Duke: his lack of sight had made him more appreciative to the art of sound. He bowed and waved then finally knelt before the Duke who promptly told him to stand up again;

“This is a room for music and art not for needless protocol. Please start your first song.”

And so Colin obliged and started a sweet song called “The Dire Wolf”, a tragic story he had written himself.  His smooth voice turned the emotion of the story into reality and before long every man, woman and child was listening intensely. After he had finished the crown started clapping and Colin bowed. He noticed even the Duke had started clapping and responded with a grin.

“Colin, would you mind taking a break and sit down next to me?” He let the people inside the room know that their presence was no longer required and made them leave. With a slight push he made it clear that Orval could leave as well. Adriana stayed smiling politely at Colin.

Colin did not consider the request unusual. The Duke enjoyed talking but after an attempt on his life had become paranoid. He took the seat next to the Duke.

“You’ve been a bard at my court for 3 years now. Don’t you miss traveling?”

Colin sighed. “A little, my lord, the world is more than this capital. As much as I like it here I do miss seeing the rest of Averta.”

“You must’ve seen a lot of wonders travelling the world?” asked Adriana equally curious as her husband whose childish lust for adventure hadn’t faded.

“Of course,” Colin went on indulging the “the great pyramids of Ryo; The Vilea Jungle. Louis and I once took a boat from the heart of the Jungle along the Karetas stream to Dukates, right through Elfland.”

Azemar was overjoyed hearing about the world he could never see. “So you saw elves?” the man asked. “I heard them talk. They have such soft voices.”

“Ah they do,” Colin said “voices of an angel that’s what Louis said.”

“And the smell,” Azemar smiled broadly “like autumn leaves.”

“They do not only smell like trees,” Colin went on “they look like they are carved out of wood, skin like bark, feet like roots and hair like braided twigs, truly remarkable.”

“They sound lovely.” The Duke said. “How is your boy?”

Colin grinned broadly. “Boy? More like a man now. He is twenty now. Has hair like that of a raven and green eyes like small emeralds, the spitting image of his mother.” He added the last bit with a slight twitch of his grin.

“Alfred informed he has been quite interested in history.” Adriana said.

“Quite interested?” Colin laughed “He has been stuck with his nose in books ever since his mother died. I suppose that’s his way of coping. All the places we have seen, but he never went anywhere without a book. He is going to make a fine bard one day.”

“Or a great scholar,” Azemar added.

“That is what he would like,” Colin said sharply “but I won’t let it happen. The kid needs to see the world. Traveling the world is amazing.”

“Until you run out of Valet. Innkeepers always have their price even for bards.” added the Duke.

“I admit I was tired of sleeping in a ditch. Knife in one hand knowing a highwayman might mistake me for some drunk noble. And it all becomes more complicated with a kid, but that’s the beauty of it, never a dull moment.”

With a sudden creak the two large wooden doors opened.  The room fell silent and everyone looked up.

A young guy baring more than a passing resemblance to the Duke walked in.
But Ector went out of his way to look good. He had the same brown hair as his brother but his was cut shorter and tied in a neat knot. His nails were carefully trimmed and showed no signs of physical labour.

“Brother,” Azemar said “why do you disturb us?”

Ector was unsurprised. His brother had been capable of recognizing footsteps. As a soldier he had heavy footsteps. Now however, with no wars to fight he had become the Duke’s most trusted helper.

“A crow arrived from the Ryan border. The Wanderers are in mourning. Razam the great seems to have passed away.”

Azemar start to giggle like a child but none shared his pleasure. While Razam had always been Azemar’s bane he was a hero to many other.

“He can now serve the halls of Deongrad.” Azemar went on. Deongrad was the world beyond life for great heroes. And great failures were forced to act as servants.


“How did he die?” wondered Colin. Ector seemed reluctant to respond but when Azemar signalled him he did.

“Fever and age, he had been living close to a century.”

“Good riddance” Azemar said gleefully “I think I would like another song, Colin.”
The bard stood up from the chair and gave it to Ector. “And what song would that be, my lord?”

Azemar grinned broadly. “The heroes of Deongrad.” And so with the sun shining the final light of the day through the stained glass Colin sung of the heroes. Of the Dukes of Topas, the Kings of Darmor, the Emperors of Ryo and the Princes of Pharion.