Red Valor: The Saga of the Sword

[Elven Doritos]

Chapter Six: The Mortal Coil

   Kamon Rikomi shifted uneasily as he stepped silently into another empty hallway, his golden eyes flitting around, searching for a sentry, a trap, or any threat for that matter.

   And once again, he found that he was utterly alone.

   Something seemed off. The entire tower seemed to have been stripped by thieves long ago, and the poorly-built structure seemed to be on the verge of collapse. Most of the door handles were even gone.

   Kamon soundlessly returned to his companions to deliver his synopsis. "Empty again," he whispered. "Are you sure there's a key here?"

   Hiru nodded slowly and responded in a hushed voice. "Completely."

   Victor looked intently at the door at the end of the hall, and noticed a small black plaque with an inscription in gold runes. Tapping Hiru's shoulder to secure the mage's attention, the curious minotaur pointed towards the door.

   Stepping softly towards the battered door, the mage paused a few paces away. He turned to face his companions, mouthing the word, "Treasury", with a wide grin on his face. His amusement immediately vanished, however, when he considered how odd the plaque was, especially as it appeared to be of value.

   Something behind the door had prevented centuries of thieves from taking it.

---

   It had been many since Valahar had heard even the most insignificant noise that the sounds of whispers in the hall seemed to assault his sense of hearing.

   Intruders, three of them. Two humans, one with heavier footsteps: perhaps a giant?  No, distinct footsteps-- hooves. Minotaur.

   Almost insulting, in truth. Two humans and a minotaur?

   Standing motionless within the chamber, Valahar did what he had always done: listen and wait.

---

   Victor motioned to his companions, who both ducked under protective archways, clearly out of the minotaur's path. Holding his head low and gripping his heavy axe firmly, the goliath sprinted shoulder-first towards the door, slamming the full force of his weight into the wooden frame. With a crash, the behemoth stumbled forward, surprised at ease of the door's collapse. Taking in a deep breath, he hefted his mighty axe but paused, utterly stunned at the sight before him.

   The large chamber was stunningly decorated with small porcelain figures, magnificent paintings of age-old nobles, gems and finely-cut jewelry, to say nothing of the countless coins struck of silver, copper, gold, and platinum that littered the floor. Never before had Victor seen such wealth in a single place.

   At the center of the place, standing in complete silence, was a large suit of ash-grey full plate armor, perhaps nearly a head tall than even Victor. Although the suit of armor appeared empty, it seemed to tightly grip a massive glimmering broadsword, almost as if it was a sentinel in the room.

   The minotaur stood his ground, motioning for his companions to join him. As he peered at the out-of-place suit of armor, he dismissed the odd feeling that it had moved, if just slightly.

---

   Kamon saw Victor's signal and crept forward, keeping Hiru a few paces behind. The tiresome mage had already assumed command of the trio, and the monk-- who held no love for arcanists in general and had little for the often moody and quite unpredictable Hiru-- preferred the company of better organized and more skilled companions. To Kamon, magic represented a short-cut, a way to bypass years of martial training and replace it entirely with an unpredictable and temperamental substitute.

   Kamon stepped into the room and stepped cautiously near Victor. For the amount of wealth on display, it was horribly un-guarded, and the monk sensed that there was a trap afoot. When Hiru entered the room, a distinctive click issued from the tile he had stepped on.

   Kamon sprung into action in a flash, shouldering the mage away as an arrow dripping with green venom came hurling from an unseen mechanism, catching the young monk in the chest. Screaming in agony, he fell backward from the impact, grabbing unsuccessfully at the projectile that was now firmly lodged between two ribs.

   As he felt the poison begin to course through his veins, Kamon spat viciously, "F-fool.... of a mage..."

---

   If Valahar could smile, he would have. The three intruders had fallen victim to the carefully lain trap, one that he had orchestrated so many times before. The arrow had met a mark, one that would have been quite troublesome from the sound of its careful and swift steps. In addition, the second human had been knocked almost prone from the attack, meaning the skirmish would probably be over quickly.

   As Valahar lifted his heavy greatsword, he secretly hoped the minotaur would be more of a challenge.

---

   Hiru stared, terrified, as Kamon plummeted to the floor. Before the sorcerer could ponder on how or why the events unfolded as they did, he sprung into an awkward somersault, narrowly dodging the razor edge of a mighty broadsword. Hiru cried out as he brought his emerald eyes upward, noting with complete surprise that his assailant was what he had previously assumed to be a vacant suit of armor, already rearing again to make a second attack.

   The mage instinctively brought a shield of magical energy around himself as the armored figure struck against it, stumbling backwards at the surprising counterbalance it had just encountered. Hiru used the brief opportunity to drop the field of energy and quickly dart to the other side of the room, allowing Victor to meet the enigmatic armored warrior in melee as Hiru rushed to prepare a few protective enchantments.

---

   Victor swore under his breath as he saw the armored figure launch into a powerful attack. "I knew something was not right..." As he saw Hiru move across the chamber, he readied his axe and rushed at the heavily-armored attacker. Victor quickly spotted the sword of his steel-clad foe swinging into an attack position, and the minotaur brought his axe to meet it in kind, ringing loudly as steel struck steel. As the exchange echoed in the chamber, the pair engaged in a battle of strength in which the minotaur seemed to be losing ground quickly.

   "You are a true warrior," the armored figure mechanically stated, not showing any sign of strain. "Worthy you are, minotaur, to die at my hands, the hands of Valahar!"

   Victor felt his balance slipping, and he grunted a reply. "Pleased to meet you," he sardonically retorted. "I'm Victor of the Tribe of Arron. Now that we're acquainted..." Victor broke the standstill, barely dodging the reprisal from his opponent. "Can we just fight?"

   Valahar tipped his helm slightly as he brought his sword forward, advancing his position. "With pleasure."

---

   Kamon felt cold. Everything was slowing around him, and his senses seemed to be dulling, even as he felt his precious lifeblood spilling from his new wound. His head rolled to the side as his golden eyes struggled to stay open. Everything seemed to be turning grey, melding away into nothingness. The monk knew he was at the end.

   "No..." The word slipped out of his mouth, even as he felt his lungs grabbing less and less air with each breath. Instinctively, he gripped at the hilt of Red Valor, saying a silent prayer to the gods of death, of Azran, and of war, each word stretching into infinity.

   Kamon's eyes shut, even as he felt a pulse of warmth from his blade.

---

   Hiru finished his last protective charm and looked to the raging battle, noting how Victor and the armored attacker-- did it call itself Valahar?-- seemed to be engaged in an equal exchange of blows, resulting in a perpetual stalemate. The young mage began to weave another spell when he spotted Kamon, laying silently, holding the hilt of Red Valor and seeming to mumble something. If it weren't for the battle raging in the center of the chamber, Hiru would have rushed over to his savior and attempted to help him with his injury.

   Hiru continued to watch, in amazement, as a flash of scarlet light issued from the blade, coalescing around the nearly-lifeless form of Kamon, pulsing brightly. It was such a spectacle that Victor lost his vital concentration and received a battering from his foe, and Hiru could do nothing but stare in awe.

---

   Kamon's eyes snapped open just in time to see Victor flung across the chamber, crashing against the wall mightily. In an instant, the young Azrani was in motion, drawing his blade and nearly leaping at his opponent in the same fluid movement. Before Valahar could even react, Kamon was showering him with a flurry of sword strikes, kicks, and punches, trying desperately to find a weakness in his adversary's armor.

   A wide sweep from the armored figure's sword brought Kamon low as the monk continued his attack, trying now to disable its legs. Unable to do so, he rolled to the side as Hiru blasted the area with a jolt of electricity-- to no avail, as the heavily-armored being simply shrugged the arc off as if it were nothing.

   Kamon groaned. "Resistant to magic, eh?" Firmly gripping Red Valor, he made a risky attack to the armored figure's torso, stabbing deeply between two plates of the armor. Valahar stumbled backward, groping at the blade, and seemed to shake its helm in disapproval. "I am disappointed, human. Disappointed indeed." Kamon narrowly dodged the edge of the massive blade, instead knocked to the floor by the force of the attack. As Valahar loomed above him, Kamon grabbed the hilt of Red Valor firmly, drawing the blade back as Valahar gave a surprising scream of agony.

---

   Hiru blinked, unsure that his eyes were not deceiving him. After Kamon withdrew his blade, the plates of Valahar's armor had become dislodged and red-black energy seeped from the gap. A look of understanding dawned on Hiru's face. "Valahar... of course!" Hiru uttered an incantation and summoned forth a spittle of fire, aimed directly for the gap of in the floundering being's armor. Valahar collapsed on the floor, his hateful screams filling the chamber. Hiru shouted over it. "Kamon! Reach into the hole-- the key is inside!"

---

   Kamon wasted no time, reaching elbow-deep into the hole, ignoring the seething energy. With a yelp of pain, he felt a small metal object and pulled from within a small black box, covered in glowing crimson runes. The suit of armor jerked to stop and the screams ceased, and even the echoes slowly began to die. Kamon half-heartedly tossed the small box to Hiru, more interested that his arm was completely unscathed.

   Looking up to the mage, Kamon asked, "How did you know about the box?"

   Hiru grinned, cracking open the case. "He said his name is Valahar," he explained. "Valahar is the Kettonian word for 'key', and I figured that the key likely powered him in some way." Hiru beamed as he placed a small silvery key into a pouch as he stepped over to help Victor stand.

   Kamon nodded, looking to the lavish decorations of the room. "And why did he have all this treasure if he was meant to guard the key?"

   Hiru nearly fell over as Victor stood to his full height, placing his weight on the young mage's shoulder. With a cough, the mage answered, "In all likelihood, the owner did not know that Valahar held an artifact inside; he was merely using the automaton to guard his treasures."

   Kamon looked around, nodding. "What about the treasure? To whom does it go?"

   Victor smirked, joining in the conversation. "That's the first rule of adventuring, my friend."

   Kamon cocked his head to the side. "And that would be?"

   The minotaur's booming laughter filled the chamber. "To the victor goes the spoils."

---

   Gorma lowered his cowl as he bowed before His Master. "Valahar has been defeated, my Lord, and Leary's servants have the first key. It seems that their plan is actually working."

   Gorma's Master merely offered a shrug. "I am not worried about Leary's fools, my child." Gorma's surprise at His Master's nonchalant reaction must have been all too obvious, and he hurriedly left the shadow-draped throne room with confusion clearly etched on his face.

   Gorma's Master chuckled lightly at his servant's perplexed attitude. "As a matter of fact, they are playing right into my hand...."

[Túrin]

Yay, we're rolling again. A very nice action-filled episode. Keep it coming please.

To Kamon, magic represented a short-cut, a way to bypass years of honing oneself to the art of physical and replace it entirely with an unpredictable and temperamental substitute.

"The art of physical" seems slightly off to me. Just noting.

Túrin

[Elven Doritos]

Fixed. :)

[Elven Doritos]

Chapter Seven: Cloak, Claw, and Caster

Standing atop a frozen cliff deep within the northern lands of Torrinn, Kafan Tegusai watched curiously as his frozen breath lingered ever so gently in the air. His companions were scouting ahead for the moment, searching for a cavern or some other form of shelter so that they could rest for the evening. Although Rehl certainly needed no sleep and would undoubtedly either make another attempt on his companions' lives or even escape, the Azrani-born wizard knew he had little choice. Without Rehl's skill in tracking and his fury in combat, Kafan would not be able to complete his plans.

Hearing screams from above, Kafan grumbled as he reached into his fur-lined coat, retrieving a small falcon-shaped figurine from an inner pocket. Bending the spirit within the figurine to his will, he ascended, his boots lifting from the ground as he floated towards the troubling twosome.

As he ascended, his face covered with a cowl, another arctic gale whipping across any unexposed flesh. As he floated to the elevation Rehl and Alberain were at, his fierce scowl was enough to humble even the hardened thug and the vicious monster. Although they had found an impressive cave, their loud chatter threatened to cause an avalanche. "If your intention is to bury us between several thousand pounds of snow, rock, and ice, then please, continue your bickering."

Rehl, afraid of being disciplined again by the domineering wizard, was surprisingly the first to respond. "Ka-fin, the meatshield and Rehl were not arguing! Rejoicing, we were! Praising the Master, we were!"

Kafan's eyes narrowed. "Rejoicing about what?"

Rehl pointed a clawed finger anxiously at a cavern. "The key that Ka-fin wants! In that cave, it is!"

-_-

Three monks knelt before the Sacred Fire, placing their hard-sought timber into the flickering cerulean flames. Chanting a prayer to Sicloran, god of honor and combat, they smiled to one another as the fire burned bright again, a testament to their god's approval of their gift. Wood was scarce in this part of the world, so it was the sacred duty of the Order of the Cerulean Flame to acquire the necessary timber to keep the Sacred Fire lit. According to myth, the Fire had been lit by Sicloran himself in ages past, and he had commanded his followers to ensure its survival as a testament of their faith.

The smiling monks stood to leave the shrine, only to discover that the three exits to the outlying cavern were blocked by three corresponding, unknown figures. As the cerulean flames flared behind them, the monks bowed courteously to what were surely fellow worshipers.

-_-

As Kafan, Rehl, and Alberain stood in the doorways into this strange chamber, a trio of blue-robed men turned to face them, each taking a defensive stance. Kafan smirked, catching Rehl's eye, as he mouthed the words, "This is the fight you have been waiting for." Rehl, disappointed by the small scale of his slaughter, decided to make the best use of this opportunity; launching into an all-out attack, the wretched creature came at the nearest monk with fang, claw, and tendril all flailing wildly.

A sharp, precise blow from the robed man sent the monster plummeting across the chamber. With a loud crash, Rehl squeaked in surprise as the monk launched into a follow-up kick, barely managing to escape the well-orchestrated attack. As the Claw of Death launched into a barrage of unsuccessful bites, slashes, and whips, he quickly became annoyed by both the defensive skill of his opponent and the force of his counterattacks.

-_-

Knowing that Rehl would likely lose the fight going solo, an amused Kafan held back, preparing an invocation as one of the monks moved from his defensive stance into an attack form. The mage's smirk vanished as the blue-clad monk hurdled towards him, launching a flurry of punches at his chest, head, and groin-- the latter of which earned the noble-born Kafan's sudden and swift wrath.

As he successfully dodged another series of attacks from his foe, the Azrani wizard reached into a fur-lined pouch on his belt, pulling from within a small glass hemisphere. The monk paused, looking at the strange object and wondering, for perhaps a moment too long. Chanting the final word of his spell and holding forward the object, Kafan's arrogant smirk turned into a full-fledged grin as a half-globe of energy suddenly surrounded the monk. Tapping on the pulsating field, Kafan leaned forward menacingly, his voice trembling with anger. "For guarding your little holy site, I hold no ill favor towards you. You attack my companions, it is not my concern. But for touching me, you pathetic peasant, you will know what pain truly is."

Although the field's cascading energy prevented the imprisoned monk to hear what his captor was saying, Kafan's manner alone was enough to frighten him to the bone.

-_-

Alberain felt distressingly out of his element as the brawl escalated, and the thug quietly slipped back into the dank cavern, escaping the mayhem of the fight. If these monks were powerful enough to challenge Rehl, a vision of pure fury and destruction, than what possibly could a street thug with a dagger do?

Finally reaching the edge of the cavern, Alberain leaned against the wall, wiping his brow. "That was close," the broad-shouldered man chuckled.

A harsh voice answered from the darkness. "Closer than you might think." Before he could respond,  Alberian felt his legs give out as a sudden sweep brought the thug plummeting to the cold cave floor, his nose cracking against the frozen stone. Yelping in agony, Alberain looked upwards; standing above him was one of the blue-robed monks, hatred playing across his face.

Alberain offered a weak smile, even as he began to taste his own blood. Through a gurgled cough, he loudly proclaimed, "Thank the Gods! You've saved me from them!"

The sudden proclamation earned the curiosity of the monk. Calmly, the blue-robed scholar stated, "Explain yourself."

Alberain coughed heavily again, flailing his arm towards the monk. Propping himself against the cold cave wall, the thug's grin widened. "Those two in there-- those monsters. I wanted nothing to do with their evil plot!"

Eying him over, the monk shook his head. "You are lying." Hearing the din of the battle, the monk begrudgingly said, "I will return shortly to deal with you."

As the monk turned around, Alberain grinned, firing his concealed crossbow with expert aim. As the bolt buried itself into the back of his foe's skull, Alberain murmured, "No you won't."

-_-

Rehl dove under a series of sharp punches, furious that he had been unable to land a single attack yet. As his foe launched into another stance, Rehl growled, planting his feet firmly into the ground. Spiting on the ground, Rehl screamed, "Enough!"

The monk paused, his eyes narrowing. "Has the foul creature had enough, then? Is he willing to submit to the will of Sicloran?"

Rehl gnashed his vicious fangs, shaking his head with disgust. "No, Rehl does not! End this, he will!" Jumping at his enemy, the diminutive creature slashed, bit, slammed, and lashed at the monk, ignoring the pain from the counterattacks as he unleashed pure fury.

-_-

Kafan watched with a mixture of awe and disgust as Rehl thrashed and mutilated the monk. Although he had watched the slaughter at Harrowton from within the window, somehow this blatant display of ferocity seemed more real. When he was sure that the monk was dead, Kafan called out to his companion. "You have succeeded, Rehl, now contain your instincts."

Kafan did not expect the emptiness in Rehl's eyes as he turned to face him; the monster had no anger, no hatred, no desire, no pleasure. Bobbing his head, Rehl stepped away from the body, licking his claws as he approached the mage.

The Azrani wizard put the scene out of his mind as Alberain entered the chamber, dragging the body of another monk with him. Taking a deep breath, the mage's confident smirk returned; finally, they could find the key and leave the dreadfully cold northern lands. Turning to his captive, Kafan released the energy field as he quietly stated, "According to legend, the Order of the Cerulean Flame keeps several important artifacts in the Altar of the Sacred Fire. You have two options: give us one of them, or we will tear this place apart, brick by brick."

The monk looked up in terror. "W-what exactly are you looking for?"

The mage's smile widened. "A key."

-_-

Gorma knelt before His Master, his black robes billowing around him. "M'lord, Rehl and his new allies have acquired one of the keys."

Gorma watched His Master's face contort into a wicked smile, a raspy laughter escaping his cracked lips. "Very good, my child. We are ready to move into the next phase of our plan."

Gorma looked into His Master's burning crimson eyes with curiosity. "What exactly would that be, m'lord?"

Gorma watched as His Master tossed a silvery key to him, diving to catch it. His confusion melted away as His Master plainly stated,  "You are going to kill Leary's fools."

[Túrin]

Very good. This story still keeps me enthralled. You might want to look over the first and second paragraphs again though. Some of the sentences didn't seem to have a nice flow, though it's hard for me to point out any actual errors since I'm not a native speaker. Three things I noted in particular have been underlined in the quote below. The word "in" seems to be missing, you use the word "art" twice in the same sentence, and the word "his" twice in the same sentence.

Túrin

(...) the scion of House Tegusai was unskilled the arts of tracking and out-and-out slaughter that Rehl had honed to a deadly art.
(...)
As he ascended, his covered his face with a cowl, (...)

[Elven Doritos]

Very good. This story still keeps me enthralled. You might want to look over the first and second paragraphs again though. Some of the sentences didn't seem to have a nice flow, though it's hard for me to point out any actual errors since I'm not a native speaker. Three things I noted in particular have been underlined in the quote below. The word "in" seems to be missing, you use the word "art" twice in the same sentence, and the word "his" twice in the same sentence.

Túrin

(...) the scion of House Tegusai was unskilled the arts of tracking and out-and-out slaughter that Rehl had honed to a deadly art.
(...)
As he ascended, his covered his face with a cowl, (...)

Thanks. I haven't had time to proofread any of my content, and I know there are always mistakes-- thanks for pointing those out.

Glad to know I'm keeping your interest. :)

[Numinous]

Fiction, fiction, fiction...  Thank you ElDo.  I'm gonna have to go back and re-read the story again so it makes more sense, but thank you mfor this new chapter.

[Elven Doritos]

I reccommend Chapter 3: Purveyors of Truth and Chapter Four: Harrowton for more about the troublesome trio.

[Elven Doritos]

Preliminary drafts indicate that the much-belated Chapter Eight: The City in Shadow should be ready sometime this weekend.