Shadowmage

2. Darcva’ater-1

Chapter 2 Darcva’ater“I paid for success.”

“Yes, I realize that, but requests such as these take time. Xenkur is a large continent.”

“It's been four years! How much time does the Black Legion need?” Xomath was getting angrier by the minute. “I expected the Legion would be better at performing murders.”

“I understand your frustration, Xomath. She has been well hidden.”

“You do not understand! She has my property, she has killed untold numbers of my people and yet she slips through your fingers like rain through your hand.”

Xomath had used his scrying to find out that the name of the mage that stole his orb was Darkwater and he knew from their confrontation that the mage was a woman. Passing that information to the Legion had not proved fruitful. He now knew the assassins of the Black Legion could not make good on their promise to kill the wizard. So Xomath decided before this meeting even occurred to turn to other means. “Tell your superiors, I want a bounty on her head. Five hundred gold crowns to anyone who brings her to me.”

“I will tell them,” said the dark figure, “But there is a problem.”

“Other than your incompetence!” Xomath was close to killing this human and walking away.

“We cannot find her. No one has heard the name Darkwater for years. And when we got to Midpeak, no one knew that name.”

“No one!” Xomath was so livid he sprayed spittle at the human across the table. “I know she spends most of her time in that town. I want someone camped out in that settlement until she is found!”

“As you wish. I will take care of that immediately.” The dark figure rose and made his way to the back of Xomath’s tent. He would leave the same way he came, skulking from the darkened side of the Seer’s tent and making his way through the Orc’s war camp.

Xomath was left to seethe in the dim light of the torches. “And I plan to stay there too. For as long as it takes.”

• • •

“You there! You can't enter Midpeak, you, Orc! You can't come into Midpeak.”

The Orc and her children did not speak the common language and did not understand. Three of Midpeak’s militia escorted them away from the barrier and motioned for them to go back west the way they came.

“That’s the third time this month,” said the captain of the guard.

Rollin Ayymon was at the gate this time to see the event. He thought, “Orcs leaving the Wastelands… Orc refugees.”

Rollin spoke, “It seems the war goes badly for both sides.”

“Aye,” agreed the guard captain.

Rollin looked at the captain’s tally of the number of refugees that had passed through the gates, “Fifty more than last month.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Midpeak is already filled. At this rate, we’ll have to close the town to all outsiders. How goes it with the refugee camp?”

“The people are restless, Sir. We barely have the food to feed them, the tents are inadequate to hold them all and winter will be here soon.” The captain looked worried.

“Do the best you can, captain.” Rollin walked up the hill towards Penn’s shop.

Rollin had taken on a heavy burden. The townsfolk of Midpeak were not ready to handle a war and the refugees that come out of one. At the time the conflict started, Midpeak did not have a true leader, and only small unfocused, undisciplined soldiers. So Rollin, by luck or design, had been thrown into the role of commander and had to create a militia from scratch.

Rollin found Penn sitting outside his shop enjoying the fall weather. “Aye, Sir Knight, how goes life at the western gate?”

Rollin let out a huge sigh, “Poorly, I'm afraid, Master Tinker. The refugees are increasing. We cannot continue to take people in at this rate. Midpeak is already full.” Rollin eased down onto a log next to the Tinker, “And how many times do I have to remind you, I am not a knight.”

“Bah…” Penn said, “You’re a knight. You may not be part of those Rose bastards, but there be no doubt you’re a knight.”

Rollin smiled. “I've been thinking about Winterrock, Master Tinker.”

“Thinkin’?”

“About Tibost specifically.”

“Aye, he has much to answer for. And perhaps he’s answering for it now, what with the Orc war.”

Rollin’s shoulders slumped and he let out a heavy sigh, “Yes, the war. Tibost may not have started this war, but it's his hands that have sent many to their deaths.”

Penn leaned back, “Where are you going with this?”

Rollin replied, “I'm not sure. I can only think Tibost is not fit to lead the Knights of the Rose.”

“And ye be thinkin’ it’s your job.”

“Heavens no, I have no ambition to take on such a role. I am needed here and this is where I will stay.”

The guard topped the hill at a sprint, “Sir, more refugees.”

Rollin let out another heavy sigh. “Thank you, Master Tinker, for the chat.” And he walked off down the hill.

• • •

Lord Dregu had sent for his key officers to come to his command tent. Dregu knew the war was not going in his favor and had become angry with his troops and their leaders. “Your lordship, the paladins and their forces have the northern banks of the Blackwater River under complete control; we have not been able to gain any foothold on those banks in two moons. Our forces need something to end this stalemate.” Onog knew that was risky to say, directly questioning his king's plans in front of his generals.

King Dregu sat on his throne. It was built on the bones of humans and elves collected on the battlefield. Dregu’s great and glorious war had not been going as he had envisioned. He expected his forces to roll across the Wastelands and into the territory of the humans and lay waste to the realms. He expected little resistance and had received it, until he got to this river.

Word spread quickly the Blood Clan was moving north and when Dregu’s legions arrived at the Blackwater River, a massive army of humans and elves were waiting for them, an army led by those accursed Knights of the Rose.

The early fighting along the river lasted a brutal and bloody six days with neither side getting an advantage. After that first confrontation Dregu had tried every angle he could think of to gain a foothold on the other side of the river with none of his plans succeeding. The Knights of the Rose were master tacticians and it was only by guts and brute force that Dregu had kept hold of the land he already had.

The generals in King Dregu’s tent all had the same looks on their faces. Each one of them was thinking that this war was a huge mistake, but none of them having the courage to say it directly to Dregu’s face. Doing so would be a death sentence.

The small Seer, Xomath, the Orc no one even noticed in the tent, was the one willing to face Dregu’s wrath by speaking, “Great Lord Dregu, I don’t think we can win with what we have. I believe Onog is right. We need something that will push the war in our favor.”

Dregu’s eyes burned like fire. His breathing became labored and his muscles tensed. Everyone in the tent was ready to watch one of the King’s battle-axes cleave Xomath in two. He leaned forward on his throne, “And you believe this something is magic?”

“Not now, Great Dregu,” Xomath said, “No, I think now we have but two possibilities.”

Xomath had changed his plans since his trip to the Lost City. At first he could not care less about Dregu’s war. His hope back then was either the war would kill Dregu or at least distract him from his leadership role long enough for Xomath to take over as king of the Blood Clan. That was then and this is now. Now he had two plans in motion. The first was to find the witch-mage known as Darkwater, who had stolen his artifact and kill her. The second was his plan to aid Dregu in winning the war and increasing the Blood Clan’s realm and then getting rid of Dregu.

“Speak plain, Seer, I have no time for intrigue.”

“I think we should attack on two fronts. First, take a group of the best warriors upstream to Wilde Lake. Burn and destroy the towns there. Have that force move down from the north.”

“A pincer attack,” Onog said, “That still won’t dislodge the paladins from Winterrock.”

“No,” Xomath was angered at Onog’s interruption, “And from this side of the river we use a larger force.”

Onog interrupted again, “All the warriors we can spare are here. We do not have any larger force.”

Xomath had had enough of Onog at this point, “Not larger as in the number, you wag, larger as in scale.”

Onog looked confused, but Dregu simply leaned back on his throne, a wicked grin on his face, “And what would this larger force be?”

• • •

Lacey sat on the balcony watching the wave's crash on the beach, her black robes blowing in the sea breeze. It was a peaceful place to be. Conanus was kind enough to let her take the book back to her room at the Mermaid Inn for further study. He also lent a book that would help teach her Amnaric. The language looked complicated and Lacey wasn’t in the mood to learn a dialect, but if it helped her learn about the Shadow Staff, she would go at it with a whole heart.

Lacey was also hoping that this book about the Shadow Staff might offer more insights into the woman that wrote it. The mere fact that her last name means ‘dark water’ and her name is Darkwater has the young mage wondering if she was long lost kin.

She had spent all night until her eyes could no longer focus on the page reading the book and learning the language at the same time. It was exhausting, but just when she was ready to quit Lacey would get another clue to the staff or the woman that wrote the book.

A quiet knock at the door woke her. “Milady, are you awake, it’s me Conanus.”

“Conanus, what… I… just a moment.”

Lacey opened the door, Conanus was edgy; sweating so profusely it looked as if he had run all the way.

“I'm sorry for disturbing you so early, but I have found some interesting information. Information that couldn't wait for your next visit.” Conanus produced a small tome, no larger than his hand. “This book here is what you need to see.” The cover was black and worn. There were red stains on the outside and on several of the pages.

“This is a journal I found in the basement. I didn’t even know we had the book.”

“Another journal of Darcva’ater?”

“No.” Conanus’s voice was hoarse and cold.

They sat at the table near the balcony doors, the breeze from the ocean floating the curtains into the room. The sun was just peeking over the ocean’s horizon line.

“Conanus, you have me worried. What is this all about?”

“This journal, Milady, was written in the years before the Broken Throne. By the dates inside between 15 and 4 B.C. (Before the Cataclysm), by someone named Volta Khaax.”

“Volta Khaax, never heard of him.”

“And it’s well you haven't, back then they called him Lord Khaax. He ruled a number of kingdoms near the Violet Mountains. He had a castle near Stakfen Forest.”

Lack of sleep had worn Lacey’s patience thin. “What does any of this have to do with Darcva’ater or the Shadow Staff?”

“Read this entry, Milady.”

5th day of the year 5 BC

I have found the last of the family. The witch that cursed me a century ago last great-granddaughter… (The words become ineligible at this point because of the red stain)… the next full moon, with her death, the staff will be mine and I can end this condition that plagues… (The words are covered again by the red stain)

“So what is this telling me? Conanus, I’m confused. Who is this Khaax?”

Conanus’s face was distorted in a mix of fear and worry. He rose and stepped out on the balcony. The sea air was sweet and cool on his face.

He turned, “Milady, I have researched Lord Khaax greatly and there is no easy way to tell you what I have found out.”

• • •

“There's a man in town that’s been asking about the Darkwater family and if they have passed through Midpeak,” Aurora said.

“Someone looking for refugees of lost kin, perhaps?” Penn responded.

“No, I don’t think that is the case.”

“Then… you think it might be another try on Lacey’s life?”

“She said her parents went missing before the war and she hasn’t used that name in years. What else could it be?”

“What does this man look like?”

“He dresses like a merchant, but he doesn’t carry himself like one,” Aurora said.