Requiem for a Fallen God--Ch. 1 and 2

Act 1





1



Grayson dreamed of ashes.  He dreamed of fire, and of the clashing of steel.  He heard cries of agony in all directions, but there was nothing he could do to help them.  He wanted the screaming to stop.  He wanted desperately for it to stop.  Footsteps echoed on the cobblestone streets, coming for him.  He looked around him and found a shard of glass from a shattered window of a nearby building, and clenched it in his fist, and he felt it cut into his hand.  But he didn’t let his grip falter.  He didn’t want to die.  He refused to die.

The flickering of the inferno gave way to sunlight.  Grayson woke up in an alleyway, with beads of sweat rolling off of his forehead onto the dirt beneath him.  His breathing was heavy, and his heart was racing.  He gave himself a few minutes to let his mind and body calm, and then he willed himself to leave his dream and accept his reality.  He looked down and was surprised to find his hunting knife clenched in his right fist.  He stole a quick glance around himself to make sure that nobody was watching, and returned the knife to its sheath under his cloak.  Concealed weapons were forbidden within Imperean cities.  He would have to be much more careful.

         He stood and surveyed the alleyway to make sure he hadn’t left anything behind, and he spotted a coin purse not too far from where he had been resting.  He unlaced the top and poured the contents into his hand.  Three Golds and two Silvers fell from the purse. Not a fortune by any feat of the imagination, but it was enough for a couple of meals from the stalls in the market, or a nice bed.  Despite the state of his back, he chose the former of the two options.  Food was much more important than a bed, and an alley wasn’t that bad of a place to sleep, if you could handle the cool temperatures of spring.  He dropped the coins back into the purse, checked to make sure that his knife was secure, and then left the alley.

         Gradually, he made his way through the backstreets that made up the city’s residential area.  Travel was still fairly easy, as it was still early in the morning.  He had only been in the city for a few days but if he had learned anything about city life, it was that if you had somewhere to go, you went early.  Once the crowds formed, travel was dangerous, if not outright impossible.

         There was a food stand in the distance, which while not an oddity outside of the market district was still fairly suspicious.  Setting up shop outside of the marketplace usually meant low quality goods and, since this was a food stand, spoiled food.  Despite all of this, he decided to take a chance.  By the time he reached the markets the crowds would be out and all of the good food would be gone anyway.  Better to gamble here than go hungry.

         Grayson read a sign on the stand.  Although he could speak the Imperean language almost perfectly, his reading skills were a bit lacking.  He could read just enough of the sign to make sense of it:  bread, meat, 5S.  He handed the Imperean man behind the stall one gold coin, and the man accepted it almost too happily.  The man fumbled under the counter for a few moments and then set half a leaf of bread, a couple slices of jerky, and five Silvers on the counter.  Grayson took the food and the coins, and walked away from the stand to find a comfortable place to eat.  He was sure he had been cheated, he was sure a gold coin was worth more than five Silvers.  He made a mental note to check the rates when he got the chance.  He took a bite of the bread, and sighed in disgust.  It was stale, with a touch of mold.  He imagined that the meat wasn’t much better.  This was going to be a long day.





Jonah arrived at the gates of Earthenholm, the capital of the Province of Terrum, at about midafternoon.  He cursed himself for arriving at such a time, as the crowds were already out and about.  His job was going to be a lot harder than he had bargained for.

         Inside the first set of iron gates was a small courtyard area, filled with stalls selling various goods to the people waiting for their turn to enter the city proper.  He saw nothing that caught his attention, so he made his way to the end of a long, long line at the gates at the other end of the courtyard.  Not too far ahead of him two men were complaining in broken Imperean about discrimination.  He didn’t have the heart, or the patience to explain to them that no discrimination was involved in this procedure.  The Province officials hated everyone equally, regardless of race or creed.  He was full-blood Imperean and he had lost count of the hours spent filling out registration and immigration forms at each city, in each province, of the Imperean Confederate.  It was a waste of time, but a necessary one.  Each province was constantly looking for ways to one-up the others and gain favor with the Council, and many would go to any means to do so.  It was important for every Province to carefully monitor those entering and leaving its borders to ensure that nothing that was brought into or taken out of its lands could be used against them.

         After what seemed like an eternity, the line had dispersed and he found himself in front of a pair of very tired guards.  One was tall and extremely muscular, while the other was medium in both height and size, about the same as Jonah was.  Both had obviously had long days, and were not looking forward to crossing another citizen off their list.

         “Registration forms, please,” the smaller of the two said.  Jonah pulled a stack of papers from his cloak pocket and the guard snapped them up.  The guard looked them over for a few moments, and then looked up at Jonah with a skeptical look on his face.  “Mr. Jonah Black…so you’re with the Order, huh?”

         “Yes, that’s correct.  I believe the guard captain is expecting me,” Jonah replied.

         “Do you have proof?”  The large one spoke this time.  The shorter one shot a quick glance to the large guard, as if he was begging the giant to drop the argument, but he either didn’t notice or didn’t care.  Jonah was aware of all of this, but kept his cool to see how everything would play out.

         “I beg your pardon?”  Jonah replied.  “I believe it’s all explained in the forms I just gave you.  I’m sure if you take another look at them you’ll see that—“

         “We go through thousands of these forms each day,” The guard smiled.  Jonah didn’t like where this was going.”  Do you have any idea how many forged forms we receive?  Pardon us, but a holy man does sound like a great cover for a smuggler.”

         “I assure you, sir, I am no smuggler.  And I’m a far cry from a holy man.  I’m a Blade, not a Cleric.  Now, I’m sure if you contacted the captain of the guard, he would clear this whole situation up.”

         “The captain is busy.  He can’t help you here!”

         “Like hell I am!”  Both guards turned and saluted the short but muscular man who was walking through the open gate.  “Jonah Black!  Great to see you!  When I heard the Order was sending help our way, I didn’t expect them to send a senior member!  Glad to see we’re all in good hands!”  The guards stiffened at the words “senior member”.  Jonah shook the man’s hand.

         “Oi, Richmond!  What are you still doing here?  Didn’t realize they let guards your age stay on the force!” Jonah exclaimed.

         “They don’t!  They stick old codgers like me on desk duty and shove papers at me till I quit.” laughed Richmond.  “And I thought I told you to stop calling me by my last name back in Border Watch.”

         “What can I say?” chuckled Jonah.  “Charles just doesn’t sound right.  Never did.  I see the paperwork hasn’t done you in yet!”

         “Nope, and it never will!  Someone’s gotta be around to show these young hooligans how not to get stabbed to death by the most skilled mercenary force in the entire Confederate!  No offense to you two, of course.” 

The two soldiers in question shifted nervously under the glare of the two veteran warriors as they realized just how far out of their league they were.  They excused themselves and went back to filing people through the gate. 

“Let’s leave these good men to their duties, Jonah.  Meet me at my place first and we can catch up on old times till the crowds leave.  Then we can get down to the grim business at hand.”









2



Grayson wandered the crowded stone streets, listening in on conversations as he went.  For hours he felt sure that today would be another disappointment to match the disappointments that had made up the majority of his week.

         He counted back in his mind the days he had spent wandering the city listening for the rumor he had come to the city in search of.  He counted three.  He had spent three days walking the streets of this city alone.  Ever since he traveled south into the Imperean lands, he had faced nothing but disappointment.  Several times he thought he had found leads, and each time he found that his hopes had been raised for nothing.  Quite frankly, he was tired of searching.

         He had found that people were more inclined to let him listen if he passed himself off as a foreign immigrant.  He took advantage of this and chose to speak no more of the Imperean language than he had to.  He learned quickly how to draw only the attention necessary in order to keep up his act and with this more leads opened up.  It was amazing what people said when they felt that nobody could hear.

         He stopped for a snack at a stand in the market.  He didn’t care what he ate, so long as it tasted better than the jerky and bread he had bought for breakfast.  Half of that loaf of bread was still one of the many pockets on his cloak.  He planned on saving it for a more desperate time.  A much more desperate time.  He passed the shopkeeper one Silver and took the food, then he looked for a quiet place to eat.  He still hated the noise of this city.  It felt wrong to him.

         He found a bench just off the main path through the city that fit his needs perfectly.  He sat down upon it and began to work at the food he had just bought, savoring every bite knowing that his next meal might not be quite this good.  Two city guards, dressed in leather armor complete with swords and helmets, walked by.  As luck would have it, they stopped not too far from where Grayson was sitting.  Grayson was surprised at just how correct his assumption that nobody would notice him had been.  He kept his head down and listened to the conversation between the two guards.

         Odd pieces of information passed between the two guards, but much of it did not catch Grayson’s attention.  News of political scandals and what Grayson assumed were meant to be Provincial secrets passed between the two without hesitation.  Had anybody but Grayson been listening, the Province of Terrum would be in deep trouble, indeed.

Finally, the conversation shifted to a series of murders.  A couple more bodies had been found, and a suspect had not yet been named.  The case seemed to be odd, but Grayson didn’t catch any details in particular.  Then he heard it.  The Order had been contacted.  A Blade would be investigating the murders on behalf of the city.

Grayson couldn’t believe his luck!  Finally, he had been able to confirm the rumor.  There was a Blade within the city.  As the two guards went back to their posts with all of their gossip drained from their minds, he thought about what he would do.  He knew a Blade was nearby, but he didn’t have any details beyond that.  It would take time, but he had to find out where

         Jonah poured himself a glass of whiskey and slid the bottle back across the table to Richmond, who caught it with expert precision and poured another glass full for himself.  As far as Jonah had been able to keep track of, Richmond had drank twice as much as he had, but wasn’t showing any signs of drunkenness.  Jonah remembered in the back of his mind that Richmond had always been able to hold his liquor remarkably well, but he had no idea he was quite this bad.  Jonah had left his drinking days behind him long ago; maybe he was just that far out of practice?

         Richmond stopped gulping down the contents of his glass long enough to notice that Jonah staring at the table.  “What’s on your mind?”

         “Just thinking about our days on Border Watch up north,” Jonah chuckled.  “You must have gone through hundreds of these during that fall up in the mountains.  Northern Whiskey would have gone out of business if not for us.  Stuff tasted horrible, but it did the job mighty well.”

         “Yep, those were the good times.  Till you left,” Richmond said with a bitter tone.

         “You know that wasn’t my fault,” Replied Jonah.

         “I’ve heard the story a hundred times,” said Richmond sarcastically.  “What happened in those mountains is between you and the gods, and mere mortals like us shouldn’t concern ourselves with it.”

         “Now Rich, that’s not fair,” countered Jonah.  “You were there, you saw what happened.  Don’t sit there and tell me that you wouldn’t have done the same thing.”

         “It was our duty.  I carried it out.  You didn’t.  As far as I’m concerned the story ends there.  You deserted Border Watch, and if the Order hadn’t taken you in, your head would have been on the chopping block with the rest of us!”  Richmond looked around, realized he had vacated his seat, and felt his hand clench into a fist.  Slightly embarrassed, he looked down at the table, picked up the bottle of wine, and set it back in the cupboard.  “That’s enough.  Look at us, arguing like an old married couple while there’s still work to do.  Let’s get back to business.  There’ll be time to settle old quarrels later.”



         The two middle-aged men walked into the street.  It was beginning to darken outside and the crowds were finally gone.  The occasional drifter walked through the streets, but for most of the people out now, the streets were their home.  Some were slumped against the buildings in the streets, and others had ducked into alleyways.  It pained Jonah to see them.  It didn’t matter what part of the Confederate he visited, the sights were always the same.  People were living in poverty, using cobblestones as beds.  People came to the Confederacy hoping for a better life, but they hadn’t stumbled onto the paradise they thought they would.  They hoped for a cure for their troubles, but that cure would not be found here.

         Jonah followed Richmond through street after street as the sun dropped lower and lower, until they were traveling only by the light of the glass lanterns along the cobblestone paths.  Soon they reached the barracks of the City Guards.

         Richmond opened the door and motioned Jonah in.  Richmond closed the door behind them and the two walked into the dimly lit building.

         “The bodies are in the cellar, where we could keep them cool.  We figured it would help with the rotting till you got here.  It’ll take weeks to get the smell out of here, but it’ll be well worth it if you can help us out.”  Richmond took a ring of keys from a hook along the wall and walked down a set of weathered wooden steps to the basement.  Jonah followed.  Soon the smell hit him, and he instinctively gagged.    He looked over at Richmond, who didn’t seem to be bothered by it.  “You never get used to it; you just learn to accept it.  We’ll all rot eventually, just give us time.  I wouldn’t want some hardened soldier retching over my dead body.”

          The moment passed, and Jonah grew accustomed to the smells around him.  They reached the bottom of the stairs and Richmond took a torch from the wall.  Three human shaped mounds rested on concrete slabs that were positioned throughout the dark, cool room.  Each mound was covered by a bloodstained sheet.  Richmond removed the sheets one at a time until all of the bodies were uncovered.  Jonah stared at the bodies.  Two men and one woman stared back up at him with lifeless eyes.  He shuffled between the bodies, trying to take all the details of the bodies and the wounds.

         “We found them last week, all in around the same area.  Each of them had about the same cause of death.  They were stabbed in the neck and died from the blood loss,” Richmond explained.  “The problem is there wasn’t anywhere near enough blood accounted for at the scene of each murder.”

         “So you think a Cleric is responsible for this?” Jonah asked.

         “In a nutshell, yes.  But actually, these aren’t all of the victims.”  Explained Richmond.  “These were the first string of murders.  The second occurred just three days ago.  Two victims, one male and one female.  Both were mid-twenties.  We tried to save them for you, too, but the families wouldn’t let us.  Said it interfered with the proper burial rights.  Damn the Northerners, anyway.  And today two more bodies showed up practically on our doorstep.  The bastard’s taunting us.  We can’t let him win.”

         Jonah processed the information.  “Seven victims, all killed the same way, and there weren’t any witnesses?”

         “None.  The guy knows what he’s doing, that’s for sure.  That’s why we have to act fast.  People are starting to panic.  The first string of victims can be passed off as a coincidence, the second string can be passed off as a copycat, but this third string…it’s gotta be something more sinister.”  Richmond rubbed his forehead in frustration.  “This has come at the worst time imaginable.  The Province of Terrum is being charged with treason by the Eastern Province, and they’re one shred of proof away from getting the Council on their side.  If they prove their case, we’ll have the forces of the Eastern Province as well as the Elite Guards of the Capitol to contend with.  We don’t have time to deal with our own problems, much less the Order’s.”

         Jonah sighed and ran his fingers through his black hair.  “We’ve got our work cut out for us.  Combing the city for one man is harder than you could ever imagine.  If he survived this long under your noses, chances are he has been at this for a while.  If we don’t catch him quick, he’ll move on to the next city and continue his hunt there.  We have to be careful and efficient, but also quick and silent.  If he knows we’re on to him, there’s no telling what he’ll do.”

         “You sound like you’re talking from experience.”

         “You have no idea.”

         “Good!  Let’s keep it that way!  I’m way too old for this stuff.”  Richmond laughed.  “I’m kidding, of course.  I’m not going to let you hog all of the fun.”