Part IV
Gathled awoke with a start, the flap on his tent was loose and was flapping on the side of the canvas, he had remembered that it was closed, maybe it had come lose. Outside the land was still, blackness.
Something glinted in the corner of the room, Gathled swung himself from his bed and sprawled as a crossbow bolt shot through his thin bedding. He grabbed his sword and flung his body towards the attacker, the assasin fell backwards through a slit in the tent , and then Gathled was on top of him, punching with his left fist and trying to bring his sword down on the intruders neck , but the sinewy muscles of this assasin held fast the sword, Gathled head butted the man , the assasin rolled and kicked hard , Gathled flew backwards a few feet and landed in the canvas of the tent, by now the assasin had regained his footing and drew a thin stilletto blade that was black oiled with poison, he stabbed at Gathled but Gathled rolled away, he kicked some dust towards the assasin , then Gathled came in fast with his sword in both hands, the intruder parryied it barely on the small blade, the swords ground down to their hilts, Gathled pushed hard and the man fell backwards, stumbled and then with the deft moves of an acrobat he began to roll and flip along the sand until he was several feet away . And there he stood and gestured with the blade...
Now the sound of the guard could be heard and a dog was barking somewhere in the camp...
"I will be back...for you... *huff* *huff*.." The Assasin spoke with a form of Heenite dialect common to the locals on the fringes of Naraka and Tor.
and with that the assasin lunged into the blackness in a dead run across the wasteland , the guards pursued but lost the assasin , they found only the pit where he had buried and muzzled his escape horse...
Gathled sat in his tent and for the rest of the night he studied the crossbow bolt...
The kingdom attacked on both sides, the king abdicating and retreating from the land , aye ... hard times this may be, Gathled had seen hard times before, the same armies that he and his brethern had fought before had now pursued them it seems even here, were back again... When Antoza stood alone... They called out to the surrounding lands for respite , yet none came , the kingdoms of the south thought they were safe... Aye hard times this may have been, but they are back again...Aye even at times here, some would say like it was a sore, cancerous name , dont mention Antoza, as if it could never happen again...
Gathled kicked the spitoon from under his table and it sailed across the room and bounced off the wall showering the front of the tavern with spit. He had been sitting out on the street with common rabble , drinking for days now... maybe even weeks? He had no men , nor gold to procure such things. Yet now more than ever they were needed ... He craved battle, for so long he had ranted and raved about the coming wars and all around him had believed that none would come...Fools, we are made for war... the only reason we exist here is to create war and havoc... Yet, some would think that summits and councils are a replacement for hard reality...Kill or be killed, dog devour dog ... this is our lot in life...
"We must commence unlimited war eternally, be done with alliances and be done with our chatter"
"Whot?" a drunk man sitting beside Gathled turned his head , wobbling , his eyes askew " whot did you say?"
" I was speaking out loud..."
"Oi..." the man turned back to his drink , Gathled quaffed his own drink and went back into his own head.
"aye, it is all this talk and alliances that have created weakness, better to be sent to certain doom than to be living death, I need money and then I will be able to fight and finally die..."
Gathled rose from the table and left the tavern, he wandered the streets, he searched for someone who could aid him, to lend him a few coins for war... yet could find none.
Far away in Island Apasur the waves did crash upon the shore for since time long uncounted... Gathled found his dagger and took it from the sheath, he laid it against his neck and made to slice the throat. He sat alone in a side street, the last of his kind... The blade was cold against his neck, and for long not thought of he did sit and think of his home , why he had left , and why he was down here in this rotten place...
Gathled awoke with a start to the sound of broken falling glass. He grabbed his sword and raced across the room of the hall and peered out the second floor window. There seemed to be a riot going on in the center of the commune, people were yelling and screaming.
Arcane has forsaken us! He has abandoned us! Arcane the false god!
Gathled hearing the cries and chanting became furious and raced into the main square, there the people raced around ever wich way gnawing at their robes and tearing their hair. He grabbed one man as he flew by tearing the orange tunic with the red 'A' of Arcane on it and casting it to the ground in disdain.
"What is Arcane's name are you doing?" Gathled roared into the mans face while dragging him along the ground.
" A prophet! A man has said that Arcane has abandoned us!" the man screamed and wriggled in Gathleds grip.
"YOU FOOLS! DO YOU NOT KNOW THAT THE VERY PORTAL TO THE DEPTHS OF OUR VERY UNIVERSE HAS BEEN OPENED? AND FROM IT MARCH THE VERY FORCES OF ARCANE!"
"It is a lie! We have heard the word of the prophet!"
"Wich goat herder do you speak of?"
"A prophet of the Diashi! he has seen the smoke from afar, heard the rumble! REEDS HAS SUNK BENEATH THE RIVER ALL IS LOST!"
Gathled cuffed the man and threw him away from him, but now the crowd that was once a rabble was now organized and marching towards him with torches and pitchforks. Just then Gathled saw Shintuk racing across the open ground, behind him his troops were trailing , being harrassed and beaten , rocks rained down on them. Gathled called to Shintuk above the din and was acknowledged.
"Gather the remaining loyalists and head to my hall, we shall barricade it and fight it out from there... The entire country has come under the spell of running dogs of Plergoth and their wicked and twisted religion!"
And with that Gathled sounded the call and his own men reached the hall and they began the arduous task of arresting and beating the rioters...
From within the town a great crash could be heard, as the once mighty and beautiful totem statue of Arcane came crashing down ,sending debris and thickets scattering across the square, flames licked the dry wood and soon the wooden brick-a-brack statue was an inferno...
The Hall was filled with the wailing of the tortured and imprisoned... Soon much blood would cleanse this land and all traitors would pay dearly for this betrayal... Gathleds hatred for the Tindlemen now only increased...
And with that it once again began the hard and ever present rain that had for so long not fallen across the land... But now the rain was black and resinous and covered everything in soot and shadow, what once was green and bountiful withered away from the cold touch of the droplets... Tindle would now be cursed...
