Knights' Fall

Knight's Fall

Once it was a great, green plain full of life. Now it was a dead scar on the land. Black with spots of crimson, it supported no life. Perhaps in years to come it could regain its former glory. For the time, however, it was barren and dead.

Two figures stood withing the desolation. One was tall and slender like the grass that once waved in the breeze. The other was short and squat, like the stump of a once mighty tree. For a long time, they had wandered the blasted land looking for some sign of life. They had found nothing.

After surveying the desolation, the smaller one spoke. His voice rumbled out like stone grinding on stone. "I don't get it Jamien. This place was supposed to be full of grass. Stupid way to fill land, but that's how it was. There were lots of critters running around. And there were people camped all over the place here. What in the name of the Forge of Eternity happened here?" As he spoke, he fingered the blades of his twin bladed ax, gazing around at the ruin.

His companion replied with a voice as clear as a trickling stream, but as strong as the tides. "I don't know Kargon. I've never seen anything like this. It wasn't a natural act. Someone or something caused this deliberately. I have no clue who would want to do something like this. Everything here has been murdered."

"Well, when Ardon, my Father's Brother's Son's Son..."

"Kargon, why are you so afraid of the word cousin?"

"It just isn't specific enough. Our lineage is really important to us. Why do you have to grind on about these things?"

"Sorry, Kargon. This destruction is tearing at me. You were saying."

"Right. Okay, apology accepted and all that. Anyway, Ardon sent a rune stone telling me that something terrible had happened in the area. I sure hope he didn't send it back to the Clanhouse too. No telling what they'd do. Anyway, it said something about knights gray as stone. That mean anything to you?"

From behind them, a third voice answered. "It means a great deal to me." The voice was an expressionless monotone. It sounded almost as dead as the land around them. Whirling around, pulling weapons from sheathes the two stared at the newcomer. His skin was deeply tanned, and looked almost like the leather jerkin he wore. His face was crossed with scars. The left side, from cheek to jaw, was scored with burn marks.

Kargon growled, "Who are you? And how did you sneak up on us like that? Jamien, I thought you could hear a pebble drop a mile away!"

The tanned man replied, "I am a stalker. If names are important to you, you may call me by that one. Once I lived in this green and lush plain. Now I hunt those who have done this. To destroy them I must be as silent as the grave."

Jamien looked him over and responded, "You are certainly that. I didn't even feel the air stir as you approached. Do you know who is responsible for this carnage?"

"Yes. As your Kurakin friend said. It was the Knights Gray as Stone."

"Heh. What do you know. I knew something you didn't, Jamien. That's gotta be a first. So, who are these Knights?"

"That I do not know. They came from the north. That is the land of our rivals. We have seldom lived with them in harmony. We did live in balance. We took from them. They took from us. Never before were they concerned with destroying everything we need to survive."

Jamien's voice fell to a whisper. "Are you the only survivor of this disaster?"

"No. Once the Tribes of the Grass Sea numbered in the thousands. We were spread all across this plain. Now the survivors are but a handful, forced to leave their homes and try to scrape a new life out of foreign soil. Only I remain, to find justice for the land and its people."

Jamien paused as Stalker finished. "The important question is, who are these Gray Knights? Did you get a good look at them?"

"No. All I have seen of them is the steel they wear. I have no care for who they are. They have razed the land. They must suffer for their actions."

"Maybe, but knowing who they are will help us. We need to know what their weaknesses... Wait. Someone is coming."

Before long, the sound became audible to all. The pounding sound of feet striking the ground like hammers. Then the sound of steel scraping across stone cut through the marching. The sound slowly resolved into chanting voices.

Kargon listened for a moment, then drove the haft of his ax into the ground.

Jamien, startled by the sudden gesture, stared at Kargon for a moment. "What is that about?"

"That's an old Kurakin marching chant. Putting the haft in the ground tells them I'm friendly. Wouldn't want to start a fight too early now would we?"

Soon after several marching figures came into sight. As Kargon said, they were Kurakin. All bore the traditional twin bladed axes of their people. Unlike Kargon's weapon, theirs were made for a single handed grip. They were encased in thick steel plates. Huge shields were strapped to their arms. They looked more like iron turtles than men. Seeing the three, one of the soldiers raised a hand and the group halted.

Kargon glared at the new arrivals. Their leader glared back. No emotion showed on either face. Finally, the leading soldier stepped in front of Kargon and fell to one knee. "Kargon Bloodheir. If we had know you were here we would have prepared a more proper welcome. As it now stands we can only offer our assistance to what ever brings you here."

Jamien looked at her squat friend. "My Lord, Kargon? Something you'd like to tell me?"

The bowing Kurakin leapt to his feet and turned on Jamien. "You do not speak to a Clan Prince so! For such offence I should cleave your head from your..."

Kargon stepped between the two and struck the soldier across the face, knocking him to the ground. "This Eldrin is my companion. She has risked her life countless times for me, as I have done for her. She is Bloodkin. When you speak to her, you speak to me. When you lay hands on her, you lay hands on me! And if you insult her..."

"I apologize Bloodheir! I meant no disrespect to her or you. I merely thought that her tone was not sufficiently..."

"If my honor needs to be defended I can defend it myself. Stand soldier and state your name!"

"I am Arndor, of the House of Garndor, of the Clan Ax of Morning. I was beholden to your father Sargon, and now to your brother Targon. Should he fall, then I am beholden to you my Lord."

"And why are you and your troops here?"

"When word came to us from our clansman, Ardon, that he had called you, and that a clan business was in danger, it was our duty to come and protect the Clan's interests. We are here to do what it takes to be certain that these gray knights are no longer a threat."

"Well, at least you might be good for something. Okay, Jamien, Stalker, having a score of Kurakin troops backing us up should make this easier, don't ya think?"

Jamien let her gaze wander around the razed plains once more. "I would still feel more comfortable if I knew what we were really up against. Men in gray armor could mean any number of things."

Stalker replied, "If you wish to see the enemy up close, that can be done. I know where they have made their camp. It is in a small village, perhaps three hours walk from here. We can be there as the sun sets if you and I go alone."

"Now just a minute here!" Kargon hollered.
"I'm not to keen on you two wandering around in hostile territory by yourselves. If you're going, then I'm going too!"

Jamien let out a sigh. "Be sensible, Kargon.
You really aren't the sneaking type. Stalker moves quietly enough that I didn't even know he was there until he was on top of us. I have my own means of creeping about. You'd just bring an army down on top of us. Trust me on this."

"I do trust you. I'm none to sure about this other guy though. He shows up outta nowhere and wants to lead you right into where the enemy lives? Sounds a bit like a trap to me."

"If he wanted to hurt us, he could have killed us both when he sneaked up on us. He didn't. I think he is genuine. You stay here and have a family reunion, Lord Kargon. I'll be back before you know it."

**************************************************

"It is just beyond this village that the enemy lay to rest." Stalker looked past the small collection of homes and shops. "It would be best for you to enter on your own. I would be recognized, and I am unsure I can restrain the rage that dwells within me if I see the enemy face to face."

"All right. I can move faster and more stealthily by myself anyway. You go back to the others and I'll meet up with you all about noon tomorrow."

"Very well. Good hunting Jamien of the Eldrin. You are a worthy ally." With that, Stalker vanished into the night.

Jamein began a soft crooning sound, and soon the shadows wrapped around her. She blended perfectly with the night. Passing around the periphery of the village, she paused to listen to some of the conversations happening in the early night.

"...long are they gonna stay here? They eat out food. They take our sons. Who knows what they're doing?"

"Well, I told ya this could happen. It was just too easy them showing up when they did..."

"Ah don't get into that old saw Jeron. Those plainsmen had to be taught a lesson."

"Maybe Thuras. Then again, maybe the knights are here to teach us one too. I'm off to bed. Gotta be up to the market early tomorrow, so's the knights can take what they want from my selection. See you in daylight."

Jamien paused as the footfalls drew further away. So the knights were not that popular it seemed. Possible to raise the villagers against them? Or would that be too dangerous? Better to see the enemy's face before making that decision.

Moving past the village into the copse of trees, Jamien followed the sound of voices. It seemed odd that the knights would camp out under the stars when there was more comfortable accommodations available in the village. Odder still that they lit no fires at night.

Jamien skirted the perimeter of the camp. There were numerous guards, all in the same gray armor. Looking around the camp, it seemed that everyone who slept just lay down in full armor through out the camp. Was the armor enchanted so that its wearer could sleep in it comfortably? Did it protect from the elements too? This was becoming stranger by the glance. She decided to check the only tent in the area.

She laid a shadow cloaked hand on the canvas of the tent. Again, she began the eerie crooning that connected her to the Primal Chaos of creation. Her senses shifted, so that she was aware of what went on around her, and what happened within the tent. Within, she saw a dozen figures clad in the gray armor. They stood in a circle. Finally, one began to speak. The voice was cold and slow. It flowed like a mountain stream, but was harsh as a flash flood.

"Soon we will complete our task here. The people of this land will be out thralls. We have converted all the worth while subjects for our troops. The rest, we will find other uses for. We have deluded them into carrying out a war of annihilation against their neighbors, now the same fate shall befall them as well."

The other armored figures murmured agreement. Then one by one they began to remove their helmets. It was all Jamien could do to stifle her scream when she saw what they hid.

**************************************************

Jamien was shaking as she told the others what she had seen. It was unclear whether her tremors were caused by shock or rage.

"I checked one of the 'sleeping' troops with thrusight. It was just an ambulatory corpse. I can't be sure if it is just animated by the knights or if they have been endowed with some vestiges of intelligence."

Kargon interupted her. "Yeah, yeah. Thier troops are shambling dead. We've dealt with worse than that before. What are the knights? You seem to be steering away from that Jamien. What's got you so out of sorts?"

"The Knights are Eldrin of the Night's Eye, Kargon. Or at least they were once."

"What?" Kargon's response seemed genuinely surprised. "I thought you said the Moon Eldarin were, well, the oldest of the old. Around at the dawn of creation or something like that."

"That's right. They were the first Eldrin to spring from the Chaos. And they are very distinctive. Their skin and hair have no color to them at all, just like the knights. It is believed that color did not exist when they sprung from the font of creation."

"So how much more dangerous are they than, oh say, you?"

"Well, as a forest Eldarin, I am in tune with Chaos. Were I a Gray Eldarin, my blade would be an extension of my arm, and I would be its master in every sense. I would not have mastery of Chaos manipulation beyond its use in battle. Most of the Night's Eyes have mastery of both arts."

"Oh swell! We're up against a small army of the dead for starters. Then we have to add in twelve guys who can do everything you can do and more and are blade masters besides. You're just an avalanche of good news aren't you?"

Arndor spoke up, a sneer on his face. "So the Eldarin show us a true face for once. Hiding beneath the veneer of civility lurks a beast waiting to surrender its soul to darkness and chaos. Same with the others. Only the Kurakin can be trusted. The Clanlords need to see that if we are to survive. Now Eldarin, what, pray tell, would cause the 'noble' Eldarin to become such abominations, hmm?"

Kargon looked ready to strike his clansman again, but Jamien simply answered, "A cause you seem very familiar with. Hatred. They hate all that is not like them. They feel that all the younger races are abominations. They believe that anything that did not spring directly from the Font is tainted and so must be destroyed to preserve the purity of the world."

Arndor began to sputter, but Jamien ignored him. "Legend says that perhaps 900 years ago, a sizable collection of Moon Eldarin came together. They saw the younger races as a threat to 'their' world. The Kurakin despoiled the mountain trees to use in the mines that cut into the world's heart. Humanity destroyed nearly everything it touched. Even the pastoral Wentarin were a threat because they sought to tame the land for their fields and farms. None of the young races had any good within them. They were all suitable for nothing but genocide!"

The intensity shocked everyone around her, except for the seemingly implaccable Stalker. After a breath, Jamien continued her story. "Fortunately, they were discovered. In the ensuing battle, most of the followers were captured or killed. A dozen of the most powerful leaders of the movement, however, escaped. Going into hiding, they continued to plan the destruction of the other races. They realized that it would be the work of more than even an Eldrin lifetime, so they sought magics that would extend their years. They found one ritual, so dark and forbidden none in their right minds would consider it. Of course, they were not and so they performed it. Its purpose was to lock the casters into the state they were in for ever. That is why they hide behind their helms. The ritual marked them on the forehead. If any Eldrin saw that mark, they would be hunted down."

At this, Kargon began to sound like a fire made entirely of wet wood. Finally he settled enough to get out, "You mean we have to deal with twelve Eldarin more than 1000 years old? Can you deal with that Jamien? I'm pretty sure I'm not a match for that kind of fire power!"

Jamien smiled at her friend. "It is nice to hear you admit you can't handle something by yourself. Still, we have an advantage. The ritual did what it was supposed to. It locked them into the state they were in at the time of its casting. They would never age. They also could not truly learn anything new. They could not increase mundane skills. Their power, if they possesed any, was locked forever as it was when they performed the ritual. Their overwhelming hatred could never diminish. They were forever as they had been upon casting. Worse for them, they lost their command over the powers of Chaos. Some of them had training in necromacy, that is how they animated the dead, but none of them have any command over Chaos. It depises them."

Kargon's eyes grew wide at that. "How could that happen? What does Chaos care about anything? It's not like it's a person that thinks about stuff."

"Not totally true my friend. Chaos is a force beyond our understanding. It empowers us because we empower it. The Eldrin are an ever changing race. We live for hundreds of years, and need change to keep us sane. The twelve became the antithesis of Chaos when they performed the ritual. They can never change. So Chaos has abandoned them. They are still formidable, but they are not unbeatable. Among other problems, they do not keep up with current trends. Their armor and weapons are dull gray because they are forged of Naltin, an old Eldrin metal. It was stronger than the bronze and crude iron weapons and tools of their contemporaries, but it is nothing compared to the Heartsteel that the Kurakin use to make their equipment now. They also fight like old Eldrin, each one a unit to himself. They know little or nothing of how to fight as a team. Between your soldiers and my Chaos manipulation, we should be able to fight this out. The only problem is how to get close enough to them to do anything. We have to get through their army."

Stalker finally entered the conversation. "Do not worry about the dead. They will not trouble you. I will prevent it."

Kargon looked up at the plainsman. "Oh yes? You just happen to have your whole tribe hidden in a pouch do you? How can you take on an army of dead soldiers? Your people didn't do so well when they were still living here ya know!"

For the first time, a glimmer of expression came over Stalker's face. He almost frowned. Then it vanished and he said, "My mission empowers me. I will have power over the dead."

Kargon started to argue, but Jamien tapped him on the shoulder. "Let it be Kargon. Stalker is right, he can deal with the dead. I think I finally understand him. We can trust him on this because he wants what we want. Not for the same reasons, but it is the same goal. Let's just let him do what he must so we can end this madness."

"Well, that's about as cryptic as you've ever been, and that's saying a lot, Jamien. Well, I'll be honest. I don't trust him. There's too much we don't know about. Well, there's too much I don't know about him anyway. You seem to think you've dug it out. I don't like being lost in the dark much Jamien."

"I'm sorry Kargon. I can't say anything about it yet. If you don't trust him, you will have to just trust me."

Kargon stamped the ground and shuffled his feet for a moment. "Okay, fine! You say you can't tell me what's going on. Not the first time, won't be the last. Let's get this over with so I can find out what's what. Arndor, you'll continue with your original mission to deal with the threat here in the region. You will do so under my command. Now let's get some sleep. We're gonna be walking a long way soon."

At sunrise they marched. It was a long walk, but under the beat of the Kurakin marching chant, the distance vanished swiftly. Soon they were in sight of the copse. They marched within sight of the village but not through it. Jamien hoped it would serve as a warning to those within that something was happening. Kargon hoped someone would go warn the gray knights so they would be out waiting for the war party. What Stalker hoped no one could guess.

In the melodious Eldrin language, Jamien called something out towards the copse. Then she turned to Kargon and said, "I just announced our presence to the knights. I also told them that we wanted to see if it were true that the vile corruptions of what were once noble Eldrin had come to hide their disgusting faces here."

"Is that bad?"

"It would be much the same as insulting a Karakin's mother and father in the same breath."

"So they'll be here soon then?"

"I certainly hope so."

Shortly after, the warriors began to appear. There were more of them than Jamien had guessed in her night time trip. They all moved like living men. Finally, the real knights emerged from the trees. It was obvious who they were, as their armor was decorated with the symbols of tree and leaf common among the Eldrin. The twelve moved together with one purpose.

Kargon glanced at Stalker. "I hope you know what you're doing. There are a lot of those walking corpses here."

"Have no worry. They will be occupied when you wish to attack. Promise me this, though. When I deal with the dead, you will finish the twelve."

"If they're as bad as Jamien says, you've got my word, on my Grandfather's tomb."

Finally, one of the knights spoke in the Eldrin language. Jamien's brow knitted with concentration. "I can barely make out what he is saying. His speech must not have changed since the ritual either. I think he has asked who was brazen enough to call them corrupted when they are the only true Eldrin left alive. Let's really annoy them, Kargon. Act like you are telling me what to say. An Eldrin in thrall to one of the 'lesser races' should be a thorn."

Kargon began to speak in his most imperious voice, although his words didn't match his tone.
"Fine. I've got no clue what is going on here. Just get this thing started already."

Jamien spoke every word three times, once in Eldrin, again in Kurakin, and finally in the Tongue of Nations, which most civilized people could understand. "The Lord Kargon of the Kurakin demands that you remove your helms. Unless, that is, if you are afraid we may be offended by your wretchedness."

The twelve laughed at that, and did as requested. Beneath the helms were exquisite faces. Each was white as granite framed by pure blowing snow hair. The only marring was the strange black mark on each one's forehead. It looked like a complicated rune. Again, one spoke in the ancient Eldrin dialect. Jamien translated, "Now that you have seen us you may die happy and swell the ranks of out soldiers. Having Kurakin in our ranks will be welcome. We can use them as table legs when battle is not near." As he spoke, it became clear that his face did not wrinkle at all with the movements of his lips. It seemed to take great effort to even open and close his mouth. When he ended his speech, the helmed soldiers moved forward.

Stalker stepped forward. "Now abominations, you will suffer for what you have done to my people. Feel the rage of your victims!"

As he fell silent, a howl of fury shook through the area. Pale shapes, barely visible in the early light rose from the ground and assaulted the dead. The weapons an armor of the soldiers passed harmlessly through the apparitions, but they seemed to have no difficulty tearing through the soldiers in turn. With that, the war party sounded their battle cry and charged the unhelmed Eldrin.

The battle was furious. As predicted, each of the white foes acted individually. It never seemed to occur to them to help one another. They did not resort to magic, but their blades were threat enough. Jamien and Kargon, of course fought as one entity, while the Kurakin soldiers grouped into fours and cut into the foe. Some few of the dead soldiers made their way to the fray, but were hampered by the apparitions clawing them apart, and so were of little consequence. Four of the Eldarin knights fell before they could even work an effective counter attack. Two more tried to separate flank Jamien and Kargon, but were taken down by Kurakin units from behind.

The six survivors tried to flee but found their retreat blocked by the Kurakin. As Jamien had predicted, their weapons were strong, but they had to make great effort to pierce the Kurakin Heartsteel. While the Kurakin soldiers took losses, at the end they had decimated their foes. With the knights gone, the dead returned to their rest as well.

Stalker went to Jamien and Kargon and laid a hand on each of their shoulders. "I think you. You have given me the means to achieve my purpose. Now I can finally return to my proper place." With that, the apparitions sunk back into the ground, and Stalker seemed to melt into the earth himself.

Kargon looked over at Jamien, who was nursing a gash in her arm. "What was that about? What happened to that guy? Can you tell me what this was about now?"

"He wasn't a 'guy' at all Kargon. He was a manifestation of all those who died on these plains. He told us himself, after the destruction, the survivors had to leave. He said he wasn't the only survivor because he wasn't a survivor at all, not because there were others. I won't pretend to understand how he came to be. Maybe the world itself decided it had had enough of my wayward brethren and took matters into its own hands. It doesn't matter now. It is over."

Jamien looked over at the Kurakin commander now. "And I hope this has taught you something, Arndor. Hatred for any reason is a poison. Look what it did to the twelve. They would go to any length to purge the world of impurities. They hated those who were different from them so much that made themselves into an alien race to destroy all alien races. They felt that all but the Eldrin were simply, how did you put it? 'Beasts waiting to turn their souls to darkness,' I believe. How do you feel about the other races now?"

"My feelings have not changed Eldrin. Only the Kurakin can be trusted. This just proves it. We do not give in to our understandable contempt for the lessers of the world. We seek to help them learn their proper place and take pride in it. We would never resort to such vile magics as these Eldrin worms did. We would remain pure. I will take my leave now Bloodheir. I hope you will return to your clan soon before the corruption you walk with taints you too deeply. Men, move out."

The unit turned and began to march off, chanting as they went. However, behind the commander's back. Each on offered a small salute to Jamien as he passed her. Recognition of a comrade perhaps, or perhaps recognition of their commander's arrogance and foolishness.

After they were nothing but echoing footfalls in the distance, Kargon turned to his friend. "Don't worry about Arndor, Jamien. His branch of the clan was always full of rot. Hey, that was a forest quote. Maybe he's right. You are corrupting me. Don't worry. I forgive you for it. Nothing a keg of good ale won't cure."

Jamien smiled at her friend. "Let's leave here Kargon. This place depresses me.