Episode 5 – The Sage Indeed

That night, as they rode in the frigid air, the trio came to the Dragonteeth highlands andcrossed a river that had frozen over completely. Evergreens dominated the landscape—proudspruces, pines and northern cedars. Their smell pleased him as the land rose in altitude. Standsof holly and mistletoe sprouted up from the snow as the land rose in height.At midnight the stone walls of Galiope rose up. The land around the city had beencleared in case of invasion, so that the enemy could not hide siege weapons in the trees and thecity’s archers would have an easier time of shooting. After all, the Northern World was a war torn place. South of the city were farms and pastures.The gatekeeper exacted a one-penny toll. Then the great wooden gates creaked open,revealing a vast city of winding cobbled streets. Plaster homes and shops with thatch roofssprawled into the air, slumping over the street and leaning against each other just to createenough space to house the city’s forty thousand souls. Stone churches and immense stonecathedrals dotted the rest of the city sporadically.Snow began to fall heavily as they got in. Fortunato walked with the confidence of anative, sword in hand, and the streets were relatively busy even in the thick of the night. Reevwatched the Town Guard as they patrolled with their flaring lamps.Eventually the trio crossed the Bridge-o’er-Galios—huge and wrought of stone, beautifully chiseled, with statues of gods and gargoyles. Then they arrived at an inn made of pine wood. A scaly red claw was painted on the sign, which, read “The Dragonpaw Inn — AllRaces Welcome.”They entered. The lobby was small and homey, with a nice stone hearth and a rack of aged wines and ales. Immediate warmth flooded over them like a wave. The patrons were asdiverse as the city itself—in one corner sat a dwarf holding a stein of beer; in the other, a fewhuman mercenaries; next to them, an elf in green garb counting coins.The innkeeper approached Fortunato. She was beautiful, with hair like golden silk anddeep blue eyes. Her ears were too round, her body too heavily-built to be elven; her ears, tooangular and her body, too lithe to be human; obviously she had mixed blood.“Hello, Glenda,” Fortunato said.“Fortunato.” She kissed him on the cheek.Wrinn and Reev exchanged glances.“There is evil nearby.”“That’s what I hear.”“Is Lord Eventide worried?”“The usual. Anything to make sure his hide is safe.”“I must get a room. We are leaving in the morning.”Glenda nodded, going to her logbook. “So you won’t be visiting me?” she said.“Sorry, Glen—”“It’s fine. I have one vacancy. Room four. Need dinner? Potato soup—it might be alittle cold for your liking.”“No thanks. Good night, Glenda.”“Good night.”In the middle of the night, Reev awoke perspiring. Someone lurked outside the door.Fortunato drew his sword. Cautiously the Arlom Rider kicked it open, and two dark shapesretreated into the lobby.

Fortunato leapt out the window into the cold night air. Reev woke Wrinn and rushed himoutside.The Rider bolted down the street, sword in hand. The two dark things were Rokahn; andthis was worrying. Had the Ratlings let them in through the sewers? Probably not; they were nofriends of Rokahn. And if not, Lord Eventide, weak though he was, hadn’t stooped to allowingthem inside. Had he?He was upon them then, slicing off one Rokahn’s head and plunging his blade throughthe other’s chest.But a group of guards approached with lamps, their faces somber in the flickering light.“Come with us, please.”Behind him, some guards also held Reev and Wrinn.A host of Rokahn—at least two thousand strong—waited by the city wall, holding spearsand banners of blood red. At the forefront was Drayfin, riding on his coal-black steed. “That’sthem,” the glyrn roared.“His Excellency offers his apologies,” a guard said, “He says the city had no other choicethan to obey.”“In damning us you have condemned the world to slavery,” Fortunato said, “Eventide hasno idea what he’s done.”And then they threw them, packs and all, into the roaring rabble that was Drayfin’s host.Reev awoke inside a frigid stone room. His feet were cold and numb. A small pile of hay lay in the corner, and the boarded-up window let in little light. Outside, the snow wasswirling down from the gray sky. Reev rubbed his arms and began to shiver.

How long have I been here?

Something had been written on the floor—sigils and runes of elvish design, glowing blueand yellow. Wizardry!

Reev— Gastreel speaking. Knock on the wall when you’re ready to escape. There is a Rokahn outside

.He stood up, cold.Waiting would be pointless. He knocked on the wall firmly and, in the span of tenseconds, he heard a door fly open, a Rokahn scream, and runefire burn him to ash. Then camethe jingling of keys, a fiddling of locks, and his door creaked open, revealing Gastreel.Reev ran to hug him.“Glad to see you, boy,” the wizard said.Reev noticed that the Rokahn’s legs and hands had not been destroyed by the magic.“As you can probably tell, I haven’t my staff, and therefore have little control o’er mymagic.” He reached down and grabbed the dead Rokahn’s scimitar and dagger. “Want this?” Hetossed Reev the smaller blade, which was forged with a horned skull.“I miss Doomblade.”“Not surprising. Magic swords often form a bond with their owners.”

Together they crept to the door nearby, which was half open.“’Ey, Moke,” said a deep, guttural voice.“What, Filp?”“You hear somethin’?”“No. You?”“Thought so!” said the other. “When’s the big boss want us to take up de kid?”“Skork ‘ll be down here to take ‘im.”“Stupid Skork. ‘E is such a… what’s de word?”“Arse-kisser?”“Yeah! An ar—”Gastreel jumped forward and sprayed runefire in a thick but erratic stream, devouringone.“Filp!” cried the Rokahn.But the wizard shot out his hands and put him out of his misery in a bright flash. “Our weapons are here,” he said.Reev walked in. On a long pine table lay Doomblade, and both Fortunato’s sword andGastreel’s staff. Across the wall were two jail cells. At once the wizard opened them, andFortunato and Wrinn walked out.“I have called the other Arlom Riders,” said Fortunato, “They will be here soon. Anhour, at most.”“Reev and I will climb the Tower to take care of Seymus.”“What help am I?” Reev asked.“He should stay here,” Fortunato said.“I know what we must do,” Gastreel hissed. He grabbed his staff. “Take Wrinn. Go tothe bottom of the Tower and wait for your friends!”Wrinn grabbed a Rokahn’s scythe. “Their weapons are cheap.”“So is their armor,” Gastreel said, “It balances out.” He paused. “Do as I say. Seymus’army is strong, so you must be careful ‘til the Riders arrive.”“Yes, Lord Archmage.” Fortunato grasped his sword and kissed it, then ripped a torchfrom the wall. “Ready, Wrinn?”The elf nodded, and the groups split.Reev and Gastreel cautiously moved through the door and out. Winding stairs spiraledup a few stories before reaching the apex. Together they began to climb, Reev with Doombladeand Gastreel with his staff.Alas, as they came to the topmost door, a Rokahn emerged, grasping a large barrel in hisarms. He didn’t seem particularly determined to move.“A dwarfish powderkeg!” Gastreel cried in a panicked tone, raised his staff and burnt thecreature to ash with runefire. The barrel, which Reev saw was sparking, rolled down the ancientstairs.“Run! Come here, Reev!”But fearing the massive barrel would knock him over, he stayed where he was. When ithad come between Gastreel and Reev, it burst apart in a great fiery flash, rending the stones witha deafening boom.“I’ve never seen such magic!” Reev whimpered, covering his ears.“Damn!” Gastreel cursed, “It’s not magic.” A rift now stretched between them, one Reev