By Volk-Oboroten'
Walking out of the woods, Lowenherz arrived at the hill above Starven wearing a heavy cloak. Now that he was no longer a manticore, he needed to protect himself from the mid-winter cold. He remembered the warm seas far to the south, and wondered why destiny had brought him to this frozen country.
Bundling his clothes about him, he spotted a woman drawing water from a well. A few other villagers stood near her, gazing at the rosy light shining from the eastern horizon. Lowenherz guessed they were finishing some sort of religious ceremony, but did not recognize it. He was glad that they were done, as he would need to walk by the group to reach Starven by the shortest path.
As Lowenherz passed the well, he noticed that the group seemed fearful. Several people nervously moved back, glancing at his leonine eyes, but the woman seemed seemed more confident. After looking at smoke rising from the valley, she asked, "Are you a servant of the Dark Queen? We were afraid that you must be one, for you were sent by Valaric. But you do not wear her ankh . . ."
Annoyed at being linked to the daedra, Lowenherz replied, "I will help anyone dedicated to the cause of defeating Nasoj. If Valaric fights the wizard, I will work with him, not for him. I have pledged to Akkala that I will defeat those who work evil."
"There is much evil in this land," said the woman. "We came to this small village after the purges, fearing that the daedra priests would hunt us down like the others. Starven proved to be a haven, for it was not important enough to attract their attention."
Looking at dark clouds to the south, a man standing next to the woman added, "We are afraid that this new war may cause trouble, forcing us to flee again. There are even rumors that Nasoj's new army may appear later today, intent on destroying this town. Thus, we have prayed to Eli for deliverance."
Lowenherz recalled hearing about Eli during his travels long ago. He was supposed to be a deity worshipped by men who did not revere the Lightbringer gods, but instead claimed that there was only one supreme being. If this Eli helped his followers against Nasoj, Lowenherz saw no reason for concern. He was far more uneasy about Valaric's Queen, who seemed surrounded by dark mystery.
Facing the woman, Lowenherz said, "I scouted the area north of Starven at night. There were no signs of Nasoj's forces, although I fear they could be concealed beyond the next ridge. All I found were draconians. The scaly creatures are supposed to be our allies, but I don't trust them."
Another man grimaced, saying "Those reptiles are unnatural beasts. We've sensed dark magic hovering about them."
Looking east across the icy lake, the woman added, "When I traveled to Caralore last spring, I heard that this daedra cult has caused great trouble. On the other side of the Sea of Souls, whole villages were destroyed by dragon fire after hosting their priests."
"Their cruelty is well known," said a third man. "In Caralore, the Dark Lady's priest took a newborn calf from its mother, saying he needed a sacrifice to assure success of an expedition into the Dragon Mountains. I can still hear the cow moaning, as the priest plunged his dagger down, spraying blood over his incense-burning altar. For several days after that, we often saw the cow returning to her stall, looking for her lost calf. She would stamp the ground with her cloven hoofs, pierced to the heart by her loss."
"Now, they are trying to establish her cult in Starven," said the woman, betraying a look of sadness. "Nothing's been placed on the barges yet, but I'm sure that's next. It started this way when the purges began in the north, with daedra shrines placed at road crossings. Then, the people were stirred up, saying that the daedra's wrath could only be appeased if we were driven out. Even before Nasoj built his empire on skulls and blood, the cities of north lay prostrate, crushed down under the foul weight of the daedra priests. Great evils are only possible when prompted by false religions!"
Lowenherz wondered how many people had been killed during the purges. Other villagers had told him that the period of intense persecution had unsettled the land, allowing Nasoj to easily gain control when he presented himself as a force for order. "I need to report to Marcomir," Lowenherz told the woman, "He is in charge of the catapults next to the barges, as he used them during lutin raids, in the days before Nasoj. Now, that Starven no longer obeys the wizard's decrees, Marcomir is the only real leader."
"Doesn't he serve the daedra?" asked the woman. "Just look down there. It's Bragamund, the false cleric, butchering another pig. He never dared to do that on the road before except on special occasions, like when Nasoj's evil mages arrived."
Hearing the pig squeal before it died, Lowenherz said, "This town is in great danger. I don't like Bragamund either, but at least he opposes Nasoj. If Starven is divided, it will be easy for the wizard's lutins to take us by surprise. We need to forget our differences and work together. Otherwise, this village may be nothing more than a heap of burning ruins before the spring thaw."
Walking down the hill, Lowenherz spotted Bragamund, the self-proclaimed priest of Lilith, performing bloody rituals. The black-robed figure hovered over a pile of pig entrails, seeking a favorable augury. Lowenherz moved carefully down the icy slope, trying to ignore the smell of blood which filled the air. Before he reached the boats, Lowenherz could hear Bragamund's sycophantic voice approaching, "Manticore of the South! I am honored by your presence. Any predator of the forests must be well favored by the Dark Lady. She sent you here to protect us."
Lowenherz replied, "I serve Akkala, not your Queen."
"But Valaric told us that all beasts of prey are her servants," said Bragamund, holding an ankh which sprinkled red drops of blood on his right hand. "Aren't you just like him?"
Lowenherz wasn't sure how to respond. He recalled that Valaric claimed to have been cursed by Nasoj with the form of a dire wolf, but suspected the story wasn't entirely factual. Also, Lowenherz sensed that Valaric often seemed more lupine than human. What was his true form? Had he ever been truly human?
"I don't know what Valaric is, but I'm not a beast of prey. At least not during the daytime," said Lowenherz, stepping away from Bragamund.
Looking to the left, he spotted Marcomir, who had just left the shelter of the boats. A few yards away, Cnivagild was reading a scroll. Marcomir also saw Lowenherz, and asked: "Is there any sign of Nasoj's army? We were told to expect them within a day or two. If the ice had broken, I would have ordered the boats out into the Sea of Souls. But that won't happen for many weeks."
Lowenherz replied, "I flew far north of Starven last night, but did not see them. Ice fog covered the trees so it was hard to spot anything on the ground. All I could locate were the draconians."
Marcomir glanced at the hill north of Lik, and said: "I'm not sure what they're doing in the woods. Valaric assured me that they won't attack us, but I suspect they're planning something evil. I'm also worried that Nasoj's reinforcing army will arrive soon."
As Cnivagild continued to peer at his scroll, Lowenherz said: "What is he reading? You said that Cnivagild had made some sort of a trade deal with Valaric. Can you really count on him? Would the trade guild of Lik really strike a fair bargain with Starven?"
Cnivagild seemed to ignore Lowenherz's words, as Marcomir responded: "Valaric seems to have big plans for his revolt. He told us that Nasoj's forces are completely routed, so it will be easy to free most of the Giantdowns from the wizard."
Remembering his recent journey, Lowenherz said: "That's certainly true. Nasoj's entire army in the Metamor Valley was shattered. Only a few regiments survived intact. Like the one from Bremen. Nasoj used them to carry supplies across the snow, so they were far to the rear of the main force when the main battle occurred. They never were involved in the attack on Metamor Keep."
Recalling stories about Misha, Marcomir asked: "You said that you met some of these Keepers. What did you think of them? Are they dangerous? Many people in this village are very afraid of the Keepers, viewing them as demons."
After a quick glance at the southern horizon, Lowenherz replied: "I first heard about Metamor Keep when I was traveling in the desert, far to the east. I had sought a cure for my curse for many years, and hoped to learn more about it there. I also hoped that I would find others eager to end the rule of Nasoj. I finally arrived at the Keep just after the great battle."
Looking at the road into the Tauremorna, Marcomir said: "Before Nasoj ruled this land, we were supposed to be subjects of Metamor. The Dark Keep was one of their outlying fortresses, burned during one of Nasoj's first campaigns. Now, if the wizard's power is truly broken, will they come back? People are afraid that the Keepers will force us to pay taxes to them now. It's bad enough sending tribute to Nasoj. No one wants to have a real monster as an overlord, like those beasts."
Perturbed by this comment, Lowenherz said: "Do you really know who is a monster? You should make a judgment based more on character than appearance. Valaric may appear to be friendly, but I fear that he is only hiding his fangs."
"We really just want to be left alone," said Marcomir. "We don't want Nasoj to come back, and we certainly don't want cursed beings to appear, demanding fealty from this village. It was hard enough to get people to accept you, as outsiders rarely stay around here. If more folks knew that you turned into a manticore at night, they'd want to expel you from Starven."
Lowenherz said: "I don't think you should worry about the Keepers. They suffered heavy losses during the campaign. Also, they don't seem to be aggressive. I thought they once were mighty warriors, but they now only seem to be skilled at defense. Years of fighting to guard one place have weakened them. I might have gotten the wrong impression from my brief visit, but the entire Keep seemed to be drained of initiative. No one wanted to try to break the Curse. No one seemed to want to follow up their victory over Nasoj."
Considering this advice, Marcomir said: "So, you don't think they will come here?"
Lowenherz answered: "Nasoj's bane was the Midland army, not the Keepers. They will be heading home, as no one wants to stay in the accursed valley for long. I certainly didn't want to linger there for more than one day. I heard from the Midlanders that the Long Scouts may launch raids in this direction, but they are unlikely to claim any territory. The Long Scouts were badly injured when they fought Baron Calephas' regiment from Arabarb, so I doubt if they will venture this far north soon."
Marcomir looked across the frozen Sea of Souls, towards Arabarb, and asked: "What about Nasoj's reinforcing army? When we refused to pay tribute, some feared a swift reprisal from the wizard. Nothing has happened so far. Do you think it exists?"
"Definitely," said Lowenherz. "If only the sky had been clearer last night, I'm sure I would have seen it. Starven must be very vigilant, for Nasoj's army might strike at any moment. You must not let your guard down."
Cnivagild placed his scroll on a bench, and said, "We need not worry about Nasoj's forces if they join our revolt. I received this scroll from Valaric's deputies at the Dark Keep yesterday. It says that Baron Calephas, the overlord of Arabarb, escaped from the demons of Metamor and will arrive here with his troops today, later this morning."
"Calephas!" said Marcomir. "We don't need his help. Haven't you heard what he did . . ."
Cnivagild interrupted, "I don't care what he did elsewhere. All that matters for us is preservation. He has great influence, and is likely to persuade more of Nasoj's men to defect to our side. Even better, Arabarb isn't too far away. Once the ice melts, we could open a trade route across the Sea of Souls. Goods from Lik could be sent through here, and then sent overseas from Arabarb. Calephas could be very good for business."
"Trade won't matter if this town is a heap of burning ruins!" exclaimed Marcomir. "We need to make sure that we survive this winter. Didn't you hear what happened to the army in the Metamor Valley? Lowenherz told us that it was cut to pieces by the Midland cavalry. What will happen if we are attacked by lutins? Who will defend this town?"
"Don't worry." said Cnivagild. "This land is now protected by the Queen of the Tauremorna. Her servants will guard us from any threats. The lutins will not raid anyone who is loyal to her. Valaric said so."
Looking at the catapults placed at either side of the docks, Lowenherz said: "I think Valaric is more interested in Lik. After all, he said it was his home town. Do you really think he regards Starven as valuable? How many gems are mined here? Is salted fish worth its weight in gold?"
Cnivagild glanced at his scroll again, and said: "If I see a good opportunity for profit, I'm sure others will also appreciate it. Or at least people who are normal. I just don't understand why Valaric left you to help defend this area. You can't possibly understand the needs of humans."
Noticing Lowenherz's leonine eyes glowing with anger, Marcomir said: "What about the draconians? I see a group of them heading down the road now. One large reptile, closely followed by three small ones. I don't like the idea that they might stay here permanently. I just don't trust them."
Gritting his teeth as he looked at Cnivagild, Lowenherz said: "I may be a manticore part of the time, but I'm never a slave of Valaric's dark mistress. I've pursued my quest to defeat Nasoj for many years, in the service of Akkala. I trust her, but also believe that I must strive to defeat the wizard's minions using my own cunning." He soon realized that Cnivagild wasn't paying any attention to his words.
Bragamund hurried up the path, a short distance from the draconians, evidently excited by something he'd seen. He even dropped a pig's liver in the snow in his haste. Marcomir concluded that he must discover who was coming and walked forward. Lowenherz and Cnivagild followed him, walking apart, on paths separated by several tree stumps.
A few minutes later, they beheld a host of draconians, marching behind a cloaked figure. As he drew near, they could tell that this was no reptile. Under his gray hood, they could see an ancient face, marked with many lines of age. Above his flowing white beard, his mouth was arced in an arrogant sneer.
Bragamund humbly knelt before the old man, seeking his blessing. As the mage's draconian escort approached the group, Lowenherz looked closely at the man's gray cloak. It was decorated with small pieces of bone, which Lowenherz suspected were human. Even worse, the ankh he wore about his neck seemed stained red. Could this be blood?
Lowenherz turned to Marcomir, and whispered: "I think the old man is a necromancer, a very bad sort of mage. He could be very dangerous, so we must be careful now."