mojo
02-08-2010, 10:28 AM
sorry but this has gone well over the word limit as well but i just couldn't cut anymore from it. :)
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The Worm Turns.
"To whom do lions cast their gentle looks?
Not to the beast that would usurp their den.
The smallest worm will turn being trodden on,
And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.'"
The Castle hung like an eager hawk from the mountainous crags above the village, its ramparts glistening in the failing moonlight lent it an eerie and foreboding presence. Strange lights flittered in the windows and lit up the low lying clouds each night for the past few weeks. At the same time screams rung out on the evening breeze, bloodcurdling screams of terror. More than a few townsfolk had disappeared lately never to be heard from again, the King had not been seen for weeks, where once he regularly spent time amongst the townsfolk.
Aldus crept through the dimly lit streets huddled within a dark cloak, hood pulled tight over his head. He would do well to not be seen out this night, would not want to draw attention to his furtive movements from one building to the next. He left behind him a wake of urgent whispering men huddled around tables and benches in the various buildings he had frequented.
Revolution was in the air.
Once this sleepy little Hamlet had been a prosperous, thriving community. Until that dark day some weeks ago when a retinue of soldiers in the livery of Mabus, a much feared and hated mage from the badlands to the south had arrived, guarding a carriage with curtains closed tight so that none knew who or what was within. Nothing had been the same since that day.
Rumors spread like wild fire, was it Mabus himself who travelled within the carriage and if so what business did he have here. The old seer Archus recounted a prophecy around the taverns of a time when a dark magician would arrive seeking a necklace, made of exotic gems from across the great sea and entwined with a strange metal, supposedly forged within a cave at the bottom of a great volcano on an isle to the east. The necklace he said was lost a thousand years ago when the ancestors of our people defeated an armada of invaders from across the sea, their great mage wore it around his neck. It was said to hold within it great power but before it could be used against the people an eagle had thundered out of the sky and ripped it from the mage's throat and flown off with it, some say to the top of the highest tower within the castle walls. It was never seen again and the armada was routed and the mage captured and executed, his body hung from the high tower.
Within the castle walls the old King sat upon his throne, only weeks ago he was a vibrant stocky man. Those who knew the King well would not recognize him at all now. Upon the blood red velvet dais sat a withered and pathetic skeleton, skin sagging from beneath volumous robes which once fitted his frame well and vacant eye's stared out from red rimmed sockets.
At his side stood a man dressed in long flowing robes of silver and turquoise, bare headed his visage stared out across the room at a soldier dressed in a livery that matched the colour of his robes.
"Tear the place apart and dare not return to me until you have the necklace in your hands" he hissed, venom dripping from every word.
The soldier, eyes lowered, bent at the waist and slid silently from the room.
Once out of the room he turned and sprinted away to the centre of the old fortress, to a stairway that wound itself up the side of the highest tower within the castle. At the top of the stair he joined three more of his men and they entered the top most room of the tower. Quickly they lit the sconces which hung from the walls in the room and he looked around at his surroundings. Bare stone walls cast dancing shadows in the flickering light, a threadbare rug lined the floor and sparse wooden furnishings stood in the center of the room. Wall hangings lay torn and scattered upon the floor. They had torn this room apart, searched every nook and cranny and had yielded nothing for their trouble. They were getting desperate now, the King either did not know where the necklace was hidden or would not say. Even under the direst interrogation he had remained silent, eliciting a grudging respect from the soldiers, though they were careful to hide their admiration from Mabus.
Just as he was about to turn and leave the room the moon slid out from behind a cloud and a thin sliver of moonlight flashed across the room, igniting briefly a bright sparkle on the far wall just beneath a soot covered brazier. The soldier crossed the room and peered closely at what seemed to be a small hole within the masonary just large enough to allow him to insert a finger. When he did so his finger met some resisitance and then with an extra push something clicked. A second later a grating noise was heard and the wall containing the brazier began to slowly slide back. A dark abyss beckoned, stairs leading away and down, in an opposite direction to the outer staircase which they had climbed up moments before.
Grabbing hold of a light from the wall he beckoned to his men and started down.
After a few minutes he surmised they must have passed ground level and yet the stairs continued down, the bottom still hidden from view in the darkness.
Eventually the staircase ended, a dimly lit cavern stretched before the men, in the centre a large pedestal sat, atop the pedestal glimmered that which they had spent these past few weeks searching for. The necklace, that which Mabus called The Fire Band.
Aldus crouched in the shadows of the castle wall, behind him the men of the village also hid in waiting for his signal. Two men had silently clambered up the wall and over, and now they waited for the fortress door to be opened from within. Shortly a large door set into the wall swung outward and Aldus and his men quietly entered, holding close to the wall. The men who had entered over the wall whispered to Aldus that they had seen no guards, no sign of any life.
They moved stealthily forward, no one stood guard at the main entrance to the castle foyer, all was silent.
The throne room doors stood closed at the end of the hall and the rebels moved quickly across the room. Kneeling Aldus placed his ear against the door and for a minute he stayed like that, listening intently. A low moaning sound reached his ear but nothing more. standing once again he reached out and grasped the handles of the double doors and heaved them open, drawing his sword as he let them swing out.
Aldus stood for a moment mouth agape. All around the throne room lay the body's of the soldiers that had arrived weeks earlier, burnt and bloody, laying in a twisted tangle of torso's, arms and legs. Upon the throne sat their King, barely recognisable, his head bent backwards and his throat opened from ear to ear, caked blood lay all around.
And there standing erect, a maniacal smile on his face stood Mabus, around his neck hung a shimmering necklace of ruby coloured jewels entwined within a wreath of burnished metal, that oddly seemed to move in the light with a serpentine motion.
The mage stretched out his hands and liquid fire leapt between his fingers, swirling and crackling. Behind him Aldus heard some of the men from town emit cries of fear, swords fell from trembling hands and footsteps echoed down the corridor as others turned and fled back the way they had come.
A bolt of molten fire flew from the mages hands and engulfed two men standing to the side and behind Aldus, the hair on his head bristled, his eyebrows singed.
Without thinking Aldus lifted his sword and hurled it, in slow motion it tumbled end over end, a man fell forward into his field of vision, enveloped in ghostly flame, his skin melting, a silent scream stuck in his throat as the intense heat closed off his airway.
Mabus, his hands still extended and exuding molten fire saw the sword too late, an exclamation of surprise escaped his lips as the blade entered his sternum, sinking itself into the hilt. A quick geyser of blood erupted under his robes, staining the turquoise robe red.
Daylight broke over the tiny hamlet, frightened townsfolk lurked in doorways and peered surrepticiouly from windows. Striding down the road from the castle came a figure they all knew.
It was Aldus.
The people erupted from the buildings and rushed out to greet him, cheering loudly.
Aldus smiled at his people, accepting the clasped hands and smacks on the back in good humour. Regaling all with the happenings of the night before, leaving nothing to the imagination the townsfolk gasped and murmered, the men who had run off in fear stood back, eyes lowered, just a little ashamed.
Aldus spoke to each man privately and offered them words to salve their shame.
Later Aldus sat alone in a tavern nursing a pitcher of wine, a fire in the hearth crackling away heartily. The occasional noise reached his ears from the kitchen, the clatter of pots and pans and dishes.
Replete, he sat with eyes closed going over the events that occured in the throne room. The people had insisted that Aldus take the throne, the King had no heirs. The King's guard he had found locked in the dungeons below the fortress, gaunt and hungry but mostly unharmed, had all to a man pledged allegiance to him.
Aldus smiled, all in all it had been a successful revolt, not as they had expected against their once beloved King, but against a usurper who had bewitched their King to gain a legendary necklace hidden beneath the fortress.
Ahh, the necklace, Aldus reached involuntarily to his throat and kneaded the wreath like band which hung hidden around his throat under his new regal robes, it was warm to the touch, a secret smile flickered on his lips momentarily and then was gone.
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The Worm Turns.
"To whom do lions cast their gentle looks?
Not to the beast that would usurp their den.
The smallest worm will turn being trodden on,
And doves will peck in safeguard of their brood.'"
The Castle hung like an eager hawk from the mountainous crags above the village, its ramparts glistening in the failing moonlight lent it an eerie and foreboding presence. Strange lights flittered in the windows and lit up the low lying clouds each night for the past few weeks. At the same time screams rung out on the evening breeze, bloodcurdling screams of terror. More than a few townsfolk had disappeared lately never to be heard from again, the King had not been seen for weeks, where once he regularly spent time amongst the townsfolk.
Aldus crept through the dimly lit streets huddled within a dark cloak, hood pulled tight over his head. He would do well to not be seen out this night, would not want to draw attention to his furtive movements from one building to the next. He left behind him a wake of urgent whispering men huddled around tables and benches in the various buildings he had frequented.
Revolution was in the air.
Once this sleepy little Hamlet had been a prosperous, thriving community. Until that dark day some weeks ago when a retinue of soldiers in the livery of Mabus, a much feared and hated mage from the badlands to the south had arrived, guarding a carriage with curtains closed tight so that none knew who or what was within. Nothing had been the same since that day.
Rumors spread like wild fire, was it Mabus himself who travelled within the carriage and if so what business did he have here. The old seer Archus recounted a prophecy around the taverns of a time when a dark magician would arrive seeking a necklace, made of exotic gems from across the great sea and entwined with a strange metal, supposedly forged within a cave at the bottom of a great volcano on an isle to the east. The necklace he said was lost a thousand years ago when the ancestors of our people defeated an armada of invaders from across the sea, their great mage wore it around his neck. It was said to hold within it great power but before it could be used against the people an eagle had thundered out of the sky and ripped it from the mage's throat and flown off with it, some say to the top of the highest tower within the castle walls. It was never seen again and the armada was routed and the mage captured and executed, his body hung from the high tower.
Within the castle walls the old King sat upon his throne, only weeks ago he was a vibrant stocky man. Those who knew the King well would not recognize him at all now. Upon the blood red velvet dais sat a withered and pathetic skeleton, skin sagging from beneath volumous robes which once fitted his frame well and vacant eye's stared out from red rimmed sockets.
At his side stood a man dressed in long flowing robes of silver and turquoise, bare headed his visage stared out across the room at a soldier dressed in a livery that matched the colour of his robes.
"Tear the place apart and dare not return to me until you have the necklace in your hands" he hissed, venom dripping from every word.
The soldier, eyes lowered, bent at the waist and slid silently from the room.
Once out of the room he turned and sprinted away to the centre of the old fortress, to a stairway that wound itself up the side of the highest tower within the castle. At the top of the stair he joined three more of his men and they entered the top most room of the tower. Quickly they lit the sconces which hung from the walls in the room and he looked around at his surroundings. Bare stone walls cast dancing shadows in the flickering light, a threadbare rug lined the floor and sparse wooden furnishings stood in the center of the room. Wall hangings lay torn and scattered upon the floor. They had torn this room apart, searched every nook and cranny and had yielded nothing for their trouble. They were getting desperate now, the King either did not know where the necklace was hidden or would not say. Even under the direst interrogation he had remained silent, eliciting a grudging respect from the soldiers, though they were careful to hide their admiration from Mabus.
Just as he was about to turn and leave the room the moon slid out from behind a cloud and a thin sliver of moonlight flashed across the room, igniting briefly a bright sparkle on the far wall just beneath a soot covered brazier. The soldier crossed the room and peered closely at what seemed to be a small hole within the masonary just large enough to allow him to insert a finger. When he did so his finger met some resisitance and then with an extra push something clicked. A second later a grating noise was heard and the wall containing the brazier began to slowly slide back. A dark abyss beckoned, stairs leading away and down, in an opposite direction to the outer staircase which they had climbed up moments before.
Grabbing hold of a light from the wall he beckoned to his men and started down.
After a few minutes he surmised they must have passed ground level and yet the stairs continued down, the bottom still hidden from view in the darkness.
Eventually the staircase ended, a dimly lit cavern stretched before the men, in the centre a large pedestal sat, atop the pedestal glimmered that which they had spent these past few weeks searching for. The necklace, that which Mabus called The Fire Band.
Aldus crouched in the shadows of the castle wall, behind him the men of the village also hid in waiting for his signal. Two men had silently clambered up the wall and over, and now they waited for the fortress door to be opened from within. Shortly a large door set into the wall swung outward and Aldus and his men quietly entered, holding close to the wall. The men who had entered over the wall whispered to Aldus that they had seen no guards, no sign of any life.
They moved stealthily forward, no one stood guard at the main entrance to the castle foyer, all was silent.
The throne room doors stood closed at the end of the hall and the rebels moved quickly across the room. Kneeling Aldus placed his ear against the door and for a minute he stayed like that, listening intently. A low moaning sound reached his ear but nothing more. standing once again he reached out and grasped the handles of the double doors and heaved them open, drawing his sword as he let them swing out.
Aldus stood for a moment mouth agape. All around the throne room lay the body's of the soldiers that had arrived weeks earlier, burnt and bloody, laying in a twisted tangle of torso's, arms and legs. Upon the throne sat their King, barely recognisable, his head bent backwards and his throat opened from ear to ear, caked blood lay all around.
And there standing erect, a maniacal smile on his face stood Mabus, around his neck hung a shimmering necklace of ruby coloured jewels entwined within a wreath of burnished metal, that oddly seemed to move in the light with a serpentine motion.
The mage stretched out his hands and liquid fire leapt between his fingers, swirling and crackling. Behind him Aldus heard some of the men from town emit cries of fear, swords fell from trembling hands and footsteps echoed down the corridor as others turned and fled back the way they had come.
A bolt of molten fire flew from the mages hands and engulfed two men standing to the side and behind Aldus, the hair on his head bristled, his eyebrows singed.
Without thinking Aldus lifted his sword and hurled it, in slow motion it tumbled end over end, a man fell forward into his field of vision, enveloped in ghostly flame, his skin melting, a silent scream stuck in his throat as the intense heat closed off his airway.
Mabus, his hands still extended and exuding molten fire saw the sword too late, an exclamation of surprise escaped his lips as the blade entered his sternum, sinking itself into the hilt. A quick geyser of blood erupted under his robes, staining the turquoise robe red.
Daylight broke over the tiny hamlet, frightened townsfolk lurked in doorways and peered surrepticiouly from windows. Striding down the road from the castle came a figure they all knew.
It was Aldus.
The people erupted from the buildings and rushed out to greet him, cheering loudly.
Aldus smiled at his people, accepting the clasped hands and smacks on the back in good humour. Regaling all with the happenings of the night before, leaving nothing to the imagination the townsfolk gasped and murmered, the men who had run off in fear stood back, eyes lowered, just a little ashamed.
Aldus spoke to each man privately and offered them words to salve their shame.
Later Aldus sat alone in a tavern nursing a pitcher of wine, a fire in the hearth crackling away heartily. The occasional noise reached his ears from the kitchen, the clatter of pots and pans and dishes.
Replete, he sat with eyes closed going over the events that occured in the throne room. The people had insisted that Aldus take the throne, the King had no heirs. The King's guard he had found locked in the dungeons below the fortress, gaunt and hungry but mostly unharmed, had all to a man pledged allegiance to him.
Aldus smiled, all in all it had been a successful revolt, not as they had expected against their once beloved King, but against a usurper who had bewitched their King to gain a legendary necklace hidden beneath the fortress.
Ahh, the necklace, Aldus reached involuntarily to his throat and kneaded the wreath like band which hung hidden around his throat under his new regal robes, it was warm to the touch, a secret smile flickered on his lips momentarily and then was gone.