A Glimpse of Starlight

Faryv's Dawn 2021

Divided by the Slyscera Mountains, the northern frostbitten territory of Khy'eras is where the Dwarven city Domrhask was founded. Naturally, this area is difficult to navigate to due to surrounding geographical obstacles and weather. Read more...
Post Reply
User avatar
Malcolm Rhodes
Event MVP
Shield of the Hall, Knight Protector of House Galewatcher
Level
03
50 / 50 HP
38 / 38 MP
0p / 0g / 1s / 60c
Race: Ghost
Class: Paladin
Posts: 37
Joined: November 3rd, 2019, 10:52 pm
Been thanked: 3 times

A Glimpse of Starlight

Post by Malcolm Rhodes »

Malcolm strode towards the longhouse with the purposeful steps of a man whose soul sought rest and reward for days of brutal work. The tired thud of his worn leather boots drew snapping crunches from the half-frozen grass, the hearty ground cover striving to thrive in the false spring before the night's chill again turned the melting snow to ice. He lifted the heavy metal ring on the iron-banded wooden door, grunting mightily as he shoved it inward against its groaning protest.

A blast of warm air, faintly tinged with the scent of herbs, took Malcolm in the face and he felt his burdens ease a fraction as he stepped onto the smooth stonework before him. The once rough blocks were worn with generations of boots and each time he felt them he could feel also the hopes and belief of those who had come before. He continued into the room, blinking slowly to adjust to the dim firelight.

In moments, his deadened senses overcame the bitter chill and rigors of long days in the winter valleys. The room wrapped him in an ocean of comforting sound, sight, and scent. Above the broad fire in the center of the room rested great pots cooking food and warming ciders that spread their delectable promises into the air like perfume. Familiar folk sat or stood along great tables of wood as scarred with the years as they were. There was laughter, boasting, and warmth for the body and soul.

He shuffled over to an open seat, thudding down onto a bench that groaned the same as his aching bones. He chuckled softly and started to work at his armor as he let his eyes roam around the room. In the corner, near the storeroom and another fire, a few folks began to play their instruments. The chorus of cheers and ocean of raised mugs showed this was to be the first song of the evening.

Malcolm ignored the music, letting it sink into the background as his eyes finally settled on his goal. She was beautiful again, her cheeks smudged with the coal of the day in the forge, her hair just coming free of the careful braid she kept. She saw him staring and smiled, making Malcolm's stomach turn flips as he flushed and looked away. He gave a small nervous wave, wanting to prevent seeming as though he was ignoring her.

He finished removing his hardened leather and set it beside his feet as the singing of his blood wiped away all the cold and exhaustion he felt. Soon, it would be Faryv's Dawn, and with all the time he spent away he'd had no time to get even the simplest present. Malcolm shook himself lightly to push away the first tendrils of worry before rummaging in his pack.

In an instant, he'd removed a bit of worked bark that was smoothed and fired to work as a writing tablet of sorts. Taking a bit of his marking charcoal, he set to work trying to turn all the things he couldn't say aloud into words he could share regardless.

The winters here are cold,
they sap the strength from my bones,

And yet when I see you across the fire
I feel a warmth that could set the forest ablaze.

You are as strong as the metals beneath the mountain,
as kind as the gentle spring winds.

Where before I saw only darkness,
now the stars glitter with envy for your smile
and the night is brightened like the dawn.

Would you share the dawn with me?


"What're you working on Ryland?" she asked, the interest plain in her voice. Malcolm shuddered, knowing well that was not his name and the oddness of the moment made his breath catch as he felt a wave of vertigo wash over him. He turned to look at his love and the half-heard music, the comforting song he hardly noticed, seemed to slow and stretch like a music box winding out.

The knight blinked and the fires guttered out, the room going dark with only the faintest shaft of moonlight through a cracked shutter. He frowned, trying desperately to stay in the moment as it faded away. The ring's memories had filled him with so much happiness and warmth but he music was gone now, only the lingering sadness of the joy's absence remaining to remind him of the siren call of memories that were not his own.

"They're here Sir Rhodes," came a frantic whisper. Malcolm's focus snapped back and his visage hardened to stone as he reached forward and pulled a shattered iron ring from the velvet-lined compartment of the obsidian music box on the table before him. There was a distinct click as he shut the lid and a final mournful note rang out clearly even through the closed wood.

"Then it is time for me to do what I have promised," the Knight answered, his voice cold gravel coming down the mountain.

"You know where the dead are coming from? Why they're here?" the Village Elder asked, his voice gaining a small measure of hope even as a thud shook dust from the heavy wood door to the longhouse.

"I do, it filled me as I removed the ring. The body is in the mine, there is a hidden lake that goes to further streams," Malcolm answered, pulling his spectral greatsword to his hand as he looked to the frightened villagers in the dark room around him.

"How-" the Elder asked, his face paler as worry for his soul creased his features.

"At first, Elder, I was afraid to trust the music," Malcolm answered firmly, nodding in understanding of the other man's fear. "It tells truths, and a more foolish man would believe this means it cannot lie. In my youngest days I was one such man, but when I joined the Galewatchers a wise man took pity upon me." He smiled sadly at the memory.

"He shared that a man's heart carries many truths that are only comforting lies." Malcolm let the words hang for a moment, another solid thump of the wooden door ruining the solemn words a breath later. "Thankfully, I believe in something greater than myself, and Esyrax knows only the truth that all fears can be conquered."

The Elder made the Idol's sign across his chest and Malcolm's features turned graver still. He leaned in, whispering to the old man with undeniable authority, "The killer is here. There will be a judgement when I return Elder, ensure none leave the village."

His orders given, Malcolm moved away without waiting for the Elder's reply. The shuttered window was incomplete, and through its gaps he could see a shuffling mass of frozen and tattered boots in the mud outside. He nodded, accepting the dangers he had brought to these people.

"The music will have called more undead than you have likely faced in many days," he said to the scattered woodsmen. They clutched axes in white knuckles, ready to defend their families no matter the cost. "Sadly, the knowledge gained is never without cost, but I swore to stand against the tide. Esyrax keep you all, do not be afraid to fight if any break through."

With those words, Malcolm moved towards the door and strode right through it, his spectral form going insubstantial in the final moment. As he reformed outside, he began to shout his prayers to his Idol. "Great Bear, give me the strength to be your claws. Let me lift these innocents from the mire of terror. Let me be their absolution!"
Word count: 1269
Post Reply

Who is online

Users browsing this forum: No registered users and 2 guests