The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl: Every Day a Walk In The Park... Options

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The Tale of Sudhendra Vahl: Part Seven

Darius, according to Master Demnevanni, ran his office out of the Madach Tradehouse in Gnisis. So, after translocating there after breaking my fast, I made my way into the lower half of the “shell” that comprised the Tradehouse. Darius was short, stocky, and clad in gorgeous armour – all gilded metal with a flowing red cape. He looked up at me and said, “So, you want to join the Legion do you Citizen Vahl? Well, it’s true that we have a shortage of Manpower ~ and Merpower for that matter. You look capable enough. Tell me, are you capable of following orders?”

“Excellent,” he said when I assured him I was. “It’s a Mer’s life in the Legion. Every day a walk in the park, every meal is a banquet, every pay check a fortune. It’ll make a Ma... Mer of you. Right, Recruit Vahl, here is your regulation-issue chain cuirass. You will wear it when you address a superior officer, do I make myself clear?”

“Yes… sir,” I replied.

Darius shook his head. “The first and last word I want to hear out of your mouth when you address me is ‘Sir’. Now sound out like you got a pair. Do you understand me?”

“Sir, yes Sir,” I said in a clear voice, desperately trying to ignore the sniggering Orc in the corner of the room.

“Outstanding,” he said. “Now get that cuirass on and I’ll give you your orders.

“You might be wondering,” he said once I’d got the chain cuirass in place, “why I am billeted in the Tradehouse? Well, it’s because we have no room to expand. The widow Vabdas has a parcel of land the Legion needs to expand. I want you to come back to me with the deeds as quickly as possible. Is that understood?”

“Sir, yes Sir,” I replied, turning to march out of the room. As I went up the stairs, I heard General Darius addressing the Orcish Trooper, “gro-Khazor, what is your major malfunction?”

Vabdas had a house just west of town, out past Arvs-Drelen, so it wasn’t difficult to get to. Her reaction, when I spoke to her about the land-deed was to slap me across the face ~ hard. I suppressed the spells that roared into my mind and, speaking carefully, said, “you would be wise not to do that again.”

“Why?” she snapped, and now I could see the tears in her eyes. “Because you’ll kill me like you did Mansilamat?”

“I assure you ma’am,” I told her, “I had no part in the death of Mansilamat. Tell me what happened…” Bit by patient bit, I dragged the story from her. It seems that her husband, the aforementioned Mansilamat, had gone to the Egg-Mine at Gnisis to get some eggs. There, according to the widow, the Legion had killed her husband.

As I walked back towards Gnisis, I reflected that whatever power controls my life has an infinite capacity for capriciousness. What should have been the simple acquisition of a deed to some land had now become a murder investigation. Of course, that was how General Darius saw it and he told me to obtain proof that the Legion had been involved. Fortunately, the guard at the door of the Egg-Mine proved amenable to my charming behaviour and, after checking that there was nobody watching, he gave me the key to the door.

There was a familiar stink about the mine, one that I remembered from the Mudan-Mul Mine. Drawing my sword, I advanced with some care. Fortunately, whatever was blighting the mine was confined to the lower quarters and the Scribs in the upper chambers were not aggressive. I wish the same could be said of Trooper gro-Ogdum. The Orc gave me a three count to get the Oblivion out of the area he was guarding. As quickly as I could, I chose one of the passages and headed off down it. From up ahead I could hear the drip-drip of water and a strange noise ~ like wind. As I rounded the corner, I came upon the source of the sound. There, in the middle of the passage, was an Ancestral Spirit.

“Hear me Mortal,” it moaned, as I made ready to swing my sword, “Stay your hand ~ I am Mansilamat Vabdas, I was murdered, most foully, by the Orc Lugrub gro-Ogdum. I beg you, avenge me…” The last syllable was drawn out as the spectre faded from view. I knew that the word of an apparition would carry no weight with General Darius: I needed more proof. I found it in the depth of the pool nearby ~ the corpse of Mansilamat and a notched Imperial axe.

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Once again I found myself sailing out of Hla Oad towards Gnaar Mok. I fear I was somewhat short with both the captain of the vessel and the hapless Redoran guard I approached once we’d docked in the fishing village. “They’re often found to the north of the town,” he said in response to my question. “We’ve driven them off a couple of times, but they keep coming back.”

Nodding curtly to the wide-eyed guard, I made my way north, coming to a little promontory of land. Over the expanse of water I could see three Netches drifting backwards and forwards among the trees. Right, I thought to myself, two males and one female and no way of telling which is which. Simple problems require simple solutions. Extending my hand, I concentrated and then said, “chan annwfns fferedig asgre.”

A concentrated explosion of power detonated across the water, greedy tendrils of magic seeking out targets to latch on to and consume. It was overkill, pure and simple, but I wasn’t feeling in a particularly charitable or subtle mood and a little excessive destruction is a wonderful way to exorcise any ill feelings. Besides, if nothing else it would give those priggish Redoran warriors a nasty turn. With a smile, I cast Recall and returned to Fort Moonmoth.

“Well lassie,” Radd said, eying me warily, “are ye feeling a little less out o’ sorts?” I assured him I was, and he visibly relaxed. “I have something else for ye,” he said. “There’s a necromancer, name o’ Skorvild, up in Dagon Fel. Now, I’ve nothing against those who practice necromancy but the locals? Well, as ye probably know, they don’t take kindly tae that business. Now, what I want ye tae do is…. Yes?”

“I’ve already paid a visit to Skorvild the Raven,” I said. “I was up in that part of the world a while ago and somebody complained about him.”

“Ahh,” Radd said, “well, since it’s ye standing there, I dinnae need tae ask how that meeting went. Well lassie, that’s all o’ the business I had for ye. I have here orders from command for ye. They say that Knight Errant Vahl is to report, on the morrow, tae Fort Buckmoth up Ald’ruhn way.”

“Knight Errant?” I said, weakly.

“Aye lassie,” he said. “Seems someone in high command has noticed ye an’ taken themselves a wee interest. Take this chitty tae the quartermaster, he’ll have your stuff ready.”

After exchanging farewells with Radd Hard-Heart, I made my way across to the quartermaster’s stores and presented the slip of parchment. I was instructed to turn in my cuirass and greaves. In return I was given Templar armour. This was the same gilt-coloured armour that General Darius had been wearing and, come to think of it, so had Sellus Gravius. The armour was obviously a custom-made job as it fit perfectly.