The Guardians' Blade

With a soft step Serraria halted on the outskirts of a bustling little village. She could smell the strong stench of fish and see the shimmering waters of a great lake. A little smile played over her lips as she led her horse slowly through the streets. She took in the activity, the different kinds of people moving around on various errands, and hints of the different races that shared these lands. She was tired, and pondered upon a room to rest in. Maybe she could find a Tavern or Inn here? She had yet to see anything of the sort. Just as she began yawning, she found a place where she could stable her horse for the night. Then after paying the tender, Serraria set off to find food and a place for herself.

After more walking about she noted it was getting dark: torches were starting to be lit along the streets. She finally found what looked to be an Inn of sorts. Rubbing at her eyes, she stood on the opposite side of the street so she could have a good view of the building and probe it with her senses, to get a feel of what the people within might be like. It seemed to be a boisterous place, full of song, wine, ale and stories being told amongst the folk who gathered there.

Her eyes slowly drifted upwards, noting some of the windows that opened out onto the street where she stood. And then her gaze locked with that of a man, a warrior who was looking out of one of those same windows. For a long moment time seemed to stand still. He was carrying a very long story and his soul seemed tired to her. She wondered about him, and even thought of going into that very Inn to find him, but a large cart full of hay trundled past, breaking the contact. She remembered what her orders were, and quickly turned, ducking back towards the stables, deciding she had to keep a low profile. So with that in mind, she climbed up into the hayloft, and settled there for the night.

A lonely little campfire sputtered and struggled to stay alive beneath the battering of a cold icy wind. A group of Dark Krysalith sat huddled around it, on the fringe of a black and ruined forest, murmuring softly amongst themselves. The wind hid the sound of hooves on the hard ground until the riders were almost upon them, then the eleven quickly rose, drawing swords or aiming bows at the two that had come upon them. Rangor raised a gloved hand and spoke. “I come in the name of the Wolf King. I am seeking Rakkath, leader of the Wolf Pack.”

For a long moment there was silence, than one of the Dark Krysalith stepped forward, looking fixedly at the robed one with a scowl upon his dark features. “I am Rakkath,” he stated. “What does the Wolf King want of us?”

Rangor snarled slightly inside his hood, staring at the Dark Hunter who would defy him and his King with such insolence with such a question. “The Wolf King has a job for you, but you must first come to him. He will tell you the details.” He cast a glare over the rest of Rakkath’s men and snorted slightly before continuing. “You are to come alone.” With the message delivered, Rangor spun his horse around and thundered off along with his companion.

Rakkath leaned on his blade, than turned, studying the other dark faces of his kin. “I will be back,” he stated firmly before he melted away into the background. He Followed the two on horseback with a swift jogging stride. Krysalith were highly energetic and could easily keep stride with a cantering horse for almost a day and a half. Thus the trip back to the camp took little to no time at all, especially as Rakkath was not dawdling and neither was Rangor who wanted this over with as soon as possible. He hated anyone else taking the Wolf King’s attention from him.

Dargoth settled into his throne, furs of red and black – his favorite colors – spread out around him all over the floor. He was waiting. He knew Rangor hated running errands, but he also knew that Rangor had never let him down. And soon Rakkath too would arise to play his part in the search for the Dragon child. He had recently spoken to his Seer, a wild woman of Dryn named Calypso who had confirmed his sighting of the arrival of the child. All the pieces to the puzzle were slowly falling into place. He just needed one more piece and then everything would be ready. The tent flap was flung open by one of his guards. Rakkath stepped through, with spears pointing at his back. He looked at the Wolf King and snapped sharply. “Call off your pets!”

Dragoth waved a hand and the Sidhra quickly drew away. Then he fixed his black eyes on the Dark Krysalith and offered a thin little smile. “Welcome Rakkath, I am glad that you came. We have much to discuss.”

Rakkath straightened up and sheathed his twin daggers. He then slowly cautiously approached to where the Wolf King was draped over his throne of dragon bones. He noted a stool near the Wolf King’s feet and carefully perched on it, though his hands were never far from his weapons, as he held no trust for this Warlord. Dargoth again smiled thinly, watching the Dark Krysalith closely. Everything about him he found amusing. Finally he spoke. “I have a mission for you, which only you can carry out, my dark lithe friend.” He shifted, sitting forward on the throne, and fixed black eyes on Rakkath. “I am seeking a girl. She will be strange, and will be very different to anyone you have ever seen. She may even remind you of me.” He chuckled to himself for a moment at saying such a thing. Then he again became serious and continued. “You must find her, and befriend her and keep me informed. Everything that she does, whatever she says, there will be signs that I will need to verify. Most importantly of all, she must speak with dragons.”

Rakkath raised a slender brow at the impossible task that was asked of him. “My lord, you cannot just walk up to the dragons of Drakebare and start conversing with them.”

Dragoth waved a hand in dismissal of the other’s worries. “I’ll start some trouble as a diversion. One of the Keeps is a little weaker than the others. A bit of manipulation will cause the girl to go to the dragons for help. It’s in her blood to do so.” He smirked slightly as he leaned back in his throne.

“What is her name?”

“Serraria: it means ‘star-dancer’ in my language.” Dragoth reached for a nearby large black book and turned to marked pages. “I have painstakingly studied the genealogy that supports the prophecy about this girl.” He looked sharply at Rakkath. “And now she is here, still young and innocent, ripe for corruption.” He flashed a rueful grin. “Find her, and you will be rewarded greatly.”

Rakkath narrowed his eyes slightly on the Wolf King. He had a name, but had no idea what he was supposed to really look for. He gathered he was to seek out any young females that acted strangely and not of this realm. It would have helped if he had an idea of what she looked like. This was going to be like looking for a needle in a hay stack. But he would not refuse the Dark One and rose to his feet with a slight bow. “I will see what I can do.” He murmured quietly.

“You will do more than that.” Dargoth snapped, lifting his gaze from the black book he had for a moment been absorbed in. He shut it with a thud and set it down on the table next to his throne than gracefully rose to his feet. Taking a couple of steps, he got right into Rakkath’s face, so they were nose to nose. “You will find her. And then bring her to me.” He growled softly, a true hint of a dragon’s growl escaping his throat.

Such a sound caused Rakkath to back away cautiously, keeping his eyes on the Wolf King in case he tried to do anything and said quietly. “I will find her.” He didn’t dare now to air his doubts as he had a feeling he’d most likely not leave the tent alive if he did so. He retreated fully out of the tent and spun around, coming face to face with Rangor.

“I trust you had a good meeting with our Lord?”

Rakkath smirked dryly at the man’s hooded features, he could only imagine what that dark thick robe hide from observers. He inclined his head slightly at Rangor’s question and moved to walk past him, deliberately bumping shoulders as he did so. “A highly interesting one, I take it you know all about this Dragon child he wants me to track down for him.”

Rangor grunted and staggered a step, one hand bawling into a fist but refrained from hurting the Dark Krysalith for the moment. He was deliberately pushing his buttons it seemed from his actions. “Yes, I do not truly understand why he wants this child. However, if it makes him happy than it is a necessity that this child be found and brought to him.”

Rakkath nodded his head slightly as he stared off in the distance. He had never been on the other side of the mountains of Drakebare before. It was going to be a very interesting adventure. He glanced than at Rangor a long moment and smirked as he said after a moment. “I’m surprised he didn’t get you to do it. You are after all Dark Krysalith, and you can sneak around just as good as the rest of us.”

Rangor scowled, feeling as if the Dark Hunter was mocking him in some way. He limped forward and then brought his hand back before flinging it forward and unleashing a stunning spell to send Rakkath hurtling face forward into the snowy hard ground. “I would be the one doing it but he demanded a Hunter instead. Don’t toy with me or I will suffer the consequences of slaughtering you just for such words spoken.”

Rakkath grunted and spat out gray snow and dirt, he rolled gracefully to a knee, bringing an arrow to bow and aimed the tip at Rangor’s heart. This was done in a singularly motion before smirking when he heard the sound of swords being drawn. Glancing around he saw many of the Wolf King’s mindless Sidhra holding their twisted and rusting blades at the ready for a command to attack. He rose slowly to his feet, glancing at Rangor as he put the arrow away. “We’ll have to play another day.” He knew when he was outnumbered and when not to push one of these creatures a bit too much. Rakkath turned to take his leave but found himself looking into the eyes of another black robe, though he sensed she was different.

Malificant smiled slowly as her eyes slid slowly over his leather and wolf skin clad form. She lifted a hand and cupped his chin, as her gaze returned to his, than she leaned in and whispered softly. “I will be keeping tabs on you my fine dark hunter. To make sure you don’t get too cozy with the fools on the other side of the mountain.”

He jerked his chin free of her grasp and smirked a bit as he shoved her non to gently aside. He turned side on to glance sharply over towards Rangor. “So I’m to be on a leash eh?”

“We are not sure that we can trust you on the other side of those mountains. Some of your kind have been known to never return.”

“Are you hinting at the loss of the Dry’hidra?” Rakkath chuckled ruefully and shook his head slightly. “Had you and your lot treated them with dignity and some respect they might have sided with you rather than run off to the Guardian’s?”

“Dignity and respect….” Malificant smirked softly from the shadows of her hood. “Who needs that when you have power at your fingertips? They had a lot of power at one time. Now they are pathetic puppets of a people who are blind to the world around them. The Guardians are losing touch with the world around them, and they will soon lose the war that they constantly wage.”

Rakkath regarded the woman a long moment, quirking an eyebrow at her words. “You speak as if you know exactly what is going on.”

“I observe Krysalith.” She retorted and turned her back to him as she started to walk away. “I see things how they are. The Guardians are failing and the other races have little interest in the war they’ve been fighting. It will all come to an end soon enough. And then the whole world will be at Dryn’s doorstep, cowering in fear and bowing beneath the boot of the Dark Emperor.”

“You sound so sure of yourself.” Muttered the Dark Krysalith, as he stared at her back, than he looked at Rangor. “You believe the same thing?”

“I simply sense that this world is ripe for the picking. The Emperor knows what is best and soon he will have his wish. He will enslave all the known races of this world, and we will have ultimate power.” Rangor let out a ragged cough, holding a gray handkerchief to his mouth, when he drew it away, there was blood on it.

“I believe it will come at a cost.” Rakkath noted more to himself, before he spun on his heel to take his leave. He needed to return to his men first, to alert them of the mission. After that, he would have to make the journey to the mountains. He was not sure how he was going to handle the climate on the other side, as it would not be so terribly cold. There would be sun and warmth, and happy people to deal with. He shivered slightly at what he would be up against. But felt he would be successful with the task he had been given to accomplish.

Rangor and Malificant watched the Dark Krysalith leave before turning to slowly walk amongst the tents of the Wolf King’s encampment. “I do not trust him.” Malificant stated. She pulled her thick black robes tighter around her to ward off the icy cold that seemed to threaten to seep into her bones.

“Whether we trust him or not, he is the chosen tool of the Wolf King. We have to accept him for the time being and use him until he is no longer useful to us. I must admit that Dargoth is correct in getting a Hunter. We are not trained in the same way he is.” Rangor drawled out slowly as he clasped gloved hands together before him.

“We can find out information faster than that Hunter.” Snapped his companion.

“But not in a subtle manner. Not with ploys of deceit and betrayal.” Rangor smiled slowly as he considered how to break the spirit of this Dragon child. A broken spirit was better to mold into a weapon than one who was fully capable of putting up a resistance against the Dark Lord.

“I can do that.” Malificant did not sound all that impressed. “We don’t need a Hunter to cause betrayal and deceit.” She abruptly stopped and turned to face him, her chin lifting slightly as she waved a hand around herself. “I am thoroughly trained in the arts of deception.”

“But would you be able to befriend a young girl, be her friend until the very end, and then walk away from said friendship without feeling anything towards her. Could you make that friendship real? Feel real to her? I only know your reputation of being a cold, callous and brutal Black Robe. I highly doubt you would have been over looked unless our Lord had something specific in mind for this dragon child.” He fixed her with a red gaze and reached out to grab her chin in a hurtful grip as he hissed out softly. “I do not question what our Lord has planned, I simply make sure that his plans come to fruition.” He then let her go and turned to stalk off towards his tent.

Malificant stared after him, idly rubbing at her chin, feeling the bruising marks of where he had gripped her. Dargoth’s plan was simple obsession over a prophecy, but she hoped to twist it into something more if she had her way. She smirked slightly before squelching through the gray snow to her own tent to retire for the evening.