From: eyesofdracoern@aol.com (Eyes Of Dracoern)
Date: 16 Feb 2000 22:36:53 EST
Usual Disclaimer
This is a story, not a character post. Please email RLupton if you'd like to take part. Thank you!
A convulsive, fluttering orange glow floated rapidly through the darkness, like an agitated orb of living flame searching erratically about its lightless realm for some lost possession. It moved deliberately through the sightless plane, silent but for a percussive rythym, a gentle pitter-patter against a rigid surface. The ball flared, contrasting the bleeding red tendrils from their yellow core like
the glaring eye of some wakened fire demon. The richly burning ember gave aspect to the narrow stone pathway that surrounded it. Further below the coruscating torchflame, grasping the cracked shaft of oakwood on which it burned, rest a withered, age-stricken hand, pallid and gaunt beneath the firelight as a skeletal appendage. A triad of metal bands ornamented the fingers from index to ring, each of them candid yet discreetly elaborate. A soft
luster of deep forest green shimmered sprightly upon the deep folds of a velvet robe. From within the cavern of the pleated hood came a soft tapping of flesh on flesh, nearly inaudible save for the contrarily silent void in which the frail, arched-over man stood whispering quietly to himself in self-query.
He swung the torch from side to side, burning a fleeting sheet of light into the seams and cracks of the ancient stone hall. The footfalls had ceased. The old man cursed something irritably, casting an empty gaze down the unseeable passageway. A moment later he started in apparent shock, as though stricken by something in the blackness. He ran his hand along the wall, feeling something that released from him a satisfied exhale. Pushing with as
much force as he could muster, the stone wall began to groan as though in empathy for his exertion. A second later, a thin line of light cut along the wall at a right angle, some six feet high and four across, and suddenly the measured section of stone revolved inward. A blinding rise of light leaped forth; the small man raised an arm to shield off the invasive force while his eyes adjusted.
A moment later he stepped in through the narrowly parted doorway, into a dimly lit room lined with towering bookshelves.
"I feared perhaps you'd lost your way in that old labryinth of yours." The elderly man jerked responsively at the unseen speaker. "I was nearly about to summon Einbir and send him in after you."
"What would you have of me, that you felt so compelled to sneak unannounced into my chambers at this hour?" The door groaned abbrasively as he pushed it shut.
The speaker reclined in a deskchair on the north wall, several candles burning behind his shoulders. The flickering light cast a pale, orange sillohuette around the rim of his crimson red hood and ruffled shoulders. "Our pact," he began with an entreating tone, "was struck with mutual consent, as I understood it. And you, my friend, promised to produce for me the small list of necessities I asked of you. Yet now..."
"Do not presume to take such an imperious tone with me," the man in the green robes snapped back, a sharp bite in his tone. "Our pact, as you call it, is indeed mutual, and within it we stand on equal ground - as do we in all circumstances. I am not some lackey of yours to be ordered about. I am yet a Minister of this castle, have you forgotten that." The elderly man locked gazes with his visitor, his eyes gleaming with inner fire, then turned
away for a moment, gazing up at a row of thickly bound leather books, sheeted over by a thin coat of dust from disuse.
"Of course, Ilyin," the man in the red robes spoke in a soft tone as he rose. "You are that and more. We've not dissolved our friendship. I merely sought to bring some things to light." He rested a pale hand on the Minister's shoulder.
"I can not find it," Ilyin lower his head, chin bobbing against his chest. He exhaled softly. "The bane is lost. You must accept it."
The red robed man tensed suddenly. "My friend, nothing on this earth is lost. You simply need the determination to seek it out to the last." His free hand drew free of the velvet folds, a glimmering silver streak brought with it. "And you, I'm afraid, lack that determination."
The dagger slid silently through the small of Ilyin's back, and the red robed man retreated a step, watching unobtrusively as the old man thrashed about for a moment. He hurled himself toward one of the high shelves, knocking it to the floor and falling atop it, tangled in his own robes. A growing spot of darkness spread from the knifewound, devouring the rich green color of the robe like a black abyss absorbing the forest and all life within. His
face, twisted in horror and pain, stared up with white eyes at the hooded visage of his murderer.
"Hexis.." he choked, "is lost."
Several minutes past. The Minister no longer breathed. The red clad figure knelt beside him for a moment, resting a hand on the lifeless man's own, then stood and swept out through the heavy stone doorway, retreating into the blanketing darkness. The hilt protruded from Ilyin's soaked back like a mithril tower, besieged by the blood-covered legions of hell.
Bane of Dawn
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From: rlupton@aol.com (RLupton)
Date: 17 Feb 2000 19:51:29 EST
The news had woke him from the night, preceded by a pounding door. It had to be bad. It had better be bad to wake him so late, or was it early? The door was opened and he stood there, scarcely clad, to see the primly uniformed Prime Minister. The weathered general's gray eyes appeared harder than usual.
"Illyin, Minister of the Arcane, is dead." Forton had done this before. He'd told of dead soldiers to weeping parents. This was far easier. Infinitely easier, but it was never easy.
Lupton was very awake. "How?" The Emperor's tone was oddly cool as he stood in the doorway. Respect was a foregone conclusion from his subjects. It was in his posture, his facial set, and even with only a loosely held blanket covering him, it was utterly demanding.
"Stabbed once through the back. There seems to have been a small struggle. The knife was left in. Constable Timeron is being awoken, now. The Minister was found by a cleaning maid."
"She's been detained?"
"He, sir, and yes."
Lupton paused. It was rare for him to be caught thinking. In the ruling of his Empire, he seemed to always have the right answer.
It was enough that Forton worried, "M'lord?"
And Lupton blinked, "Inform the families, and release a statement to the papers tomorrow. It'll be followed by a special publication from me. Begin gathering a pool to replace the Minister, and call the others for a meeting early tomorrow. Be sure the Constable is there."
The Prime Minister nodded. The details were all recorded, and the possibility of one being forgotten or improperly handled was nonexistant. "Anything else, m'lord?"
"One more thing, Forton."
"Yes, Lord?"
"Go to bed." The Emperor revealed a cracked smile to the bowing sidekick. He shut the door. It was time to take his own advice.
Date: 17 Feb 2000 19:51:29 EST
The news had woke him from the night, preceded by a pounding door. It had to be bad. It had better be bad to wake him so late, or was it early? The door was opened and he stood there, scarcely clad, to see the primly uniformed Prime Minister. The weathered general's gray eyes appeared harder than usual.
"Illyin, Minister of the Arcane, is dead." Forton had done this before. He'd told of dead soldiers to weeping parents. This was far easier. Infinitely easier, but it was never easy.
Lupton was very awake. "How?" The Emperor's tone was oddly cool as he stood in the doorway. Respect was a foregone conclusion from his subjects. It was in his posture, his facial set, and even with only a loosely held blanket covering him, it was utterly demanding.
"Stabbed once through the back. There seems to have been a small struggle. The knife was left in. Constable Timeron is being awoken, now. The Minister was found by a cleaning maid."
"She's been detained?"
"He, sir, and yes."
Lupton paused. It was rare for him to be caught thinking. In the ruling of his Empire, he seemed to always have the right answer.
It was enough that Forton worried, "M'lord?"
And Lupton blinked, "Inform the families, and release a statement to the papers tomorrow. It'll be followed by a special publication from me. Begin gathering a pool to replace the Minister, and call the others for a meeting early tomorrow. Be sure the Constable is there."
The Prime Minister nodded. The details were all recorded, and the possibility of one being forgotten or improperly handled was nonexistant. "Anything else, m'lord?"
"One more thing, Forton."
"Yes, Lord?"
"Go to bed." The Emperor revealed a cracked smile to the bowing sidekick. He shut the door. It was time to take his own advice.
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From: lordtimeron@aol.com (Lord Timeron)
Date: 20 Feb 2000 21:25:16 EST
"Lord Timeron! Lord Timeron!"
The rapping came louder this time. I'd have cursed the boy for his rancor, but he spoke in a tone of some great urgency. I forced myself to stand, scarcely beyond a half-dream state, pulled on some trowsers, and admitted the courier. Much in contrast to my expectations, he was a young man - a soldier, in fact, though hardly a calloused warrior.
"What is of such importance that it has you thumping on my door at this ungodly hour?" I spat at him. His head dropped apologetically, though hardly with the sincerity necessary to lighten my mood.
"It's, ah.. My lord, they've found a body in Ilyin's libray. It's him, sir."
He fumbled over his words as though he weren't sure what he spoke of. "It's whom, lad?"
"Minister Ilyin, sir."
My face felt suddenly very lax. I left him standing in my doorway long enough to attire myself as best I could, then hurried him out of my path so that he could dally along at my heels.
^~
The great library of the Citadel spands some eight hundred feet, and well over several hundred thousand pages. The books cover all manner of studies, many of which I'd care not to enter upon. Some of the weathered, hide-bound volumes preempt even the oldest recorded doctrines of Rhy Din.
The main chamber seemed to be in good order. A bit confining, perhaps - I find the ceiling-high shelves rather disturbing. Nonetheless, nothing seemed out of place.
"The body is in the north chamber, m'lord," the young soldier stammered at me. I shot him a chiding glance and strode toward the large oak door on the north wall. Etched into the wood was a bizarre, calligraphic symbol: the sign reffering to magic and the arcane. This is - or rather, was - Ilyin's field of intrigue. The door stood open partway. Inside I could make out Egrimn, one of my more reliable men. Claxius, the Minister of Arms, stood
just over his shoulder, shouting in an irate manner.
The door creaked slightly as I entered. Eight people in all stood around an overturned bookshelf. Minister Ilyin lay face-down on a pile of his own books. I pushed the musing thoughts of irony from my head.
"Ah, Constable Timeron," Claxius greeted me with surprising gaiety. "Perhaps you'll be better able to get some answers from this rabble." He indicated the rabble in question - two young girls and an elderly man - with a sweeping hand gesture. "And your man," he shot a disdainful glance at Egrimn, "won't even permit me to look over the body."
Egrimn, disregarding the Minister's tantrum, rose to greet me. "My lord," he nodded, "the body was discovered just before dawn. It seems he was killed sometime last night." Claxius snorted.
I looked over the faces of those present: Claxius, Egrimn, the abject "rabble", and three further guardsmen. The young man that had escorted me here peered over my shoulder. Feeling congested in the close quarters, I walked around the group toward the body of the minister.
"And these three," I looked to the scullion girls and the old man, "were on duty here at the time of the murder?"
"Presumably, sir," Egrimn answered for them. "Although the girls arrived just an hour before the body was discovered. This man, Surenne, was the only one present throughout the night."
"And what did he see?" I locked my attention on the man. He dressed well enough. Black breeches and blue tunic, tucked and well straightened save for a small stain on his breast.
"I, ah.." the old man's attention flickered nervously between Egrimn and myself. "Perhaps an hour before the girls arrived, I saw a man exiting through the east doors upon my return from the kitchen - or, at least, I presumed he was a man. The person wore red robes... hooded robes. I'm afraid I couldn't make him out with any more certainty, m'lord."
I took a moment to organize my thoughts while ushering the others back, away from the body. A well polished dagger sat lodged in the center of his back. It slid free easily, the slender blade slickened with blood. I wiped the item clean and handed it over my shoulder to Egrimn, then carefully turned the minister over.
Several of the onlookers were unable to stifle gasps of shock at the first glance at the corpse's front. His lips were twisted in a sort of mangled horror, and his eyes stared aimlessly, wide with surprise perhaps. Claxius loomed heavily over my shoulder, peering down curiously at Ilyin.
"Seems as though he were taken by surprise," he spoke matter-of-factly.
I looked up at Egrimn. "Have the entire library blocked off. Place two men at each door."
"Immediately, sir," he nodded and left.
"And the rest of you..." I glanced around at the remaining guards, Claxius, and the librarian and his assistants. "Please allow me some time alone here." The group filed out the exit, some unable to twist their attention from the body, others trying desperately to keep it from their plane of view. Claxius stood still, rooted in place behind me. I raised an eyebrow at him. "I do apologize, m'lord, but this is castle business, and I must ask that
you leave me for a while to properly examine this room."
"And who are you to throw such a presumptuous command at me? Good Ilyin lies here dead, Constable, and I'd be evading my sense of honor were I to stand aside and cast him the attention equal to that deserved by a common merchant." He crossed his arms defiantly and stared down at me. I sighed inwardly, and rose to meet his gaze.
"My Lord Claxius, I do understand and greatly respect your concern here, but as Lord Constable of the Citadel, I must insist that you stand aside and allow me to conduct my investigation unfeathered." His expression did not waver, but I sensed that he'd shifted into reluctant agreement. "I do thank you, m'lord," I added, "for your honorable discharge."
"Very well, Constable," he spoke in an irritable but calmed tone. "I'll leave you be, for now, but I expect some substantial facts to be presented when next we speak." With that he turned on heel and left me in the chamber with none but the cadaver for company. I looked around for the knife, wishing to examine it further, and suddenly grew tense as I realized it wasn't in the room. Egrimn, I recalled. Of course. Good man. I was fortunate to
have a reliable hand such as he at my side. This death didn't strike me as commonplace. I wasn't quite sure whom I could trust. Even Claxius, for all his allegedly good intentions, may have had a hand in this.
I squinted down at the body. The events seemed obvious enough. He'd been struck from the back, and fallen - or perhaps been thrown - onto the bookshelf, collapsing finally in a heap of tangled limbs. I'd have to examine the dagger immediately. It seemed the only piece of evidence, except...
The minister's right middle finger was bare. By even the vaguest recollection, I knew he'd always worn three rings on his right hand. I knelt beside him, lifting the ghostly white fingers to better catch the firelight in the windowless room. His hand was partly caked with blood, and Ilyin was a disturbingly pale figure under any circumstances, but there was a slight variation in skin tone between the two surrounding rings; a scarcely visible band
of flesh, whiter even than the rest of him, stood out under my deeply scrutinizing eyes. I searched his robes and the resesses of the toppled shelf for signs of the ring, but found nothing. Most likely, it had been removed. Still, I'd have to search more thoroughly to be positive.
Egrimn stepped back into the room, holding a small velvet pouch. "Done, sir. Guards at all exits, including this one." He motioned to the two men outside the north chamber door.
"Very good, Egrimn." I looked down at the black pouch. It glittered in the flickering candlelight, black and silver. He'd tied it with a thin leather thong. "The knife?"
He handed it to me without question. "Yes, sir. Have you uncovered anything else?"
"Not as yet," I unlaced the tie and slid the shiny silver poniard into my palm. Barely eight inches in length, it was hardly a battle weapon. Nonetheless, it was fully capable of the task assigned to it. It bore no inscription. The hilt was flat, baring a small nub at the end. Fairly non-descript, and yet I could not understand why it had been left. "Help me here," I spoke up, returning the dagger to the velvet pouch. "The Minister seems to
have lost an ornament."
Date: 20 Feb 2000 21:25:16 EST
"Lord Timeron! Lord Timeron!"
The rapping came louder this time. I'd have cursed the boy for his rancor, but he spoke in a tone of some great urgency. I forced myself to stand, scarcely beyond a half-dream state, pulled on some trowsers, and admitted the courier. Much in contrast to my expectations, he was a young man - a soldier, in fact, though hardly a calloused warrior.
"What is of such importance that it has you thumping on my door at this ungodly hour?" I spat at him. His head dropped apologetically, though hardly with the sincerity necessary to lighten my mood.
"It's, ah.. My lord, they've found a body in Ilyin's libray. It's him, sir."
He fumbled over his words as though he weren't sure what he spoke of. "It's whom, lad?"
"Minister Ilyin, sir."
My face felt suddenly very lax. I left him standing in my doorway long enough to attire myself as best I could, then hurried him out of my path so that he could dally along at my heels.
^~
The great library of the Citadel spands some eight hundred feet, and well over several hundred thousand pages. The books cover all manner of studies, many of which I'd care not to enter upon. Some of the weathered, hide-bound volumes preempt even the oldest recorded doctrines of Rhy Din.
The main chamber seemed to be in good order. A bit confining, perhaps - I find the ceiling-high shelves rather disturbing. Nonetheless, nothing seemed out of place.
"The body is in the north chamber, m'lord," the young soldier stammered at me. I shot him a chiding glance and strode toward the large oak door on the north wall. Etched into the wood was a bizarre, calligraphic symbol: the sign reffering to magic and the arcane. This is - or rather, was - Ilyin's field of intrigue. The door stood open partway. Inside I could make out Egrimn, one of my more reliable men. Claxius, the Minister of Arms, stood
just over his shoulder, shouting in an irate manner.
The door creaked slightly as I entered. Eight people in all stood around an overturned bookshelf. Minister Ilyin lay face-down on a pile of his own books. I pushed the musing thoughts of irony from my head.
"Ah, Constable Timeron," Claxius greeted me with surprising gaiety. "Perhaps you'll be better able to get some answers from this rabble." He indicated the rabble in question - two young girls and an elderly man - with a sweeping hand gesture. "And your man," he shot a disdainful glance at Egrimn, "won't even permit me to look over the body."
Egrimn, disregarding the Minister's tantrum, rose to greet me. "My lord," he nodded, "the body was discovered just before dawn. It seems he was killed sometime last night." Claxius snorted.
I looked over the faces of those present: Claxius, Egrimn, the abject "rabble", and three further guardsmen. The young man that had escorted me here peered over my shoulder. Feeling congested in the close quarters, I walked around the group toward the body of the minister.
"And these three," I looked to the scullion girls and the old man, "were on duty here at the time of the murder?"
"Presumably, sir," Egrimn answered for them. "Although the girls arrived just an hour before the body was discovered. This man, Surenne, was the only one present throughout the night."
"And what did he see?" I locked my attention on the man. He dressed well enough. Black breeches and blue tunic, tucked and well straightened save for a small stain on his breast.
"I, ah.." the old man's attention flickered nervously between Egrimn and myself. "Perhaps an hour before the girls arrived, I saw a man exiting through the east doors upon my return from the kitchen - or, at least, I presumed he was a man. The person wore red robes... hooded robes. I'm afraid I couldn't make him out with any more certainty, m'lord."
I took a moment to organize my thoughts while ushering the others back, away from the body. A well polished dagger sat lodged in the center of his back. It slid free easily, the slender blade slickened with blood. I wiped the item clean and handed it over my shoulder to Egrimn, then carefully turned the minister over.
Several of the onlookers were unable to stifle gasps of shock at the first glance at the corpse's front. His lips were twisted in a sort of mangled horror, and his eyes stared aimlessly, wide with surprise perhaps. Claxius loomed heavily over my shoulder, peering down curiously at Ilyin.
"Seems as though he were taken by surprise," he spoke matter-of-factly.
I looked up at Egrimn. "Have the entire library blocked off. Place two men at each door."
"Immediately, sir," he nodded and left.
"And the rest of you..." I glanced around at the remaining guards, Claxius, and the librarian and his assistants. "Please allow me some time alone here." The group filed out the exit, some unable to twist their attention from the body, others trying desperately to keep it from their plane of view. Claxius stood still, rooted in place behind me. I raised an eyebrow at him. "I do apologize, m'lord, but this is castle business, and I must ask that
you leave me for a while to properly examine this room."
"And who are you to throw such a presumptuous command at me? Good Ilyin lies here dead, Constable, and I'd be evading my sense of honor were I to stand aside and cast him the attention equal to that deserved by a common merchant." He crossed his arms defiantly and stared down at me. I sighed inwardly, and rose to meet his gaze.
"My Lord Claxius, I do understand and greatly respect your concern here, but as Lord Constable of the Citadel, I must insist that you stand aside and allow me to conduct my investigation unfeathered." His expression did not waver, but I sensed that he'd shifted into reluctant agreement. "I do thank you, m'lord," I added, "for your honorable discharge."
"Very well, Constable," he spoke in an irritable but calmed tone. "I'll leave you be, for now, but I expect some substantial facts to be presented when next we speak." With that he turned on heel and left me in the chamber with none but the cadaver for company. I looked around for the knife, wishing to examine it further, and suddenly grew tense as I realized it wasn't in the room. Egrimn, I recalled. Of course. Good man. I was fortunate to
have a reliable hand such as he at my side. This death didn't strike me as commonplace. I wasn't quite sure whom I could trust. Even Claxius, for all his allegedly good intentions, may have had a hand in this.
I squinted down at the body. The events seemed obvious enough. He'd been struck from the back, and fallen - or perhaps been thrown - onto the bookshelf, collapsing finally in a heap of tangled limbs. I'd have to examine the dagger immediately. It seemed the only piece of evidence, except...
The minister's right middle finger was bare. By even the vaguest recollection, I knew he'd always worn three rings on his right hand. I knelt beside him, lifting the ghostly white fingers to better catch the firelight in the windowless room. His hand was partly caked with blood, and Ilyin was a disturbingly pale figure under any circumstances, but there was a slight variation in skin tone between the two surrounding rings; a scarcely visible band
of flesh, whiter even than the rest of him, stood out under my deeply scrutinizing eyes. I searched his robes and the resesses of the toppled shelf for signs of the ring, but found nothing. Most likely, it had been removed. Still, I'd have to search more thoroughly to be positive.
Egrimn stepped back into the room, holding a small velvet pouch. "Done, sir. Guards at all exits, including this one." He motioned to the two men outside the north chamber door.
"Very good, Egrimn." I looked down at the black pouch. It glittered in the flickering candlelight, black and silver. He'd tied it with a thin leather thong. "The knife?"
He handed it to me without question. "Yes, sir. Have you uncovered anything else?"
"Not as yet," I unlaced the tie and slid the shiny silver poniard into my palm. Barely eight inches in length, it was hardly a battle weapon. Nonetheless, it was fully capable of the task assigned to it. It bore no inscription. The hilt was flat, baring a small nub at the end. Fairly non-descript, and yet I could not understand why it had been left. "Help me here," I spoke up, returning the dagger to the velvet pouch. "The Minister seems to
have lost an ornament."