@dragonpoet Said Working title - Bastosaer?s Secrets
Chapter #1
I entered the tavern not expecting much. Shot, if the outside was anything to cast judgment, then the place wasn?t worth a whole lot. The village for what I had seen of it as dusk set, was a miserable little place, but then again, it wasn?t much different then the countless other forgotten settlements my companions and I have come upon. The tavern itself had been fairly located within the village?s center, and I figured it probably served as a meeting house. The village?s center was nothing more then a circular area of packed dirt with a stone well dead center. To the right of the tavern appeared to be a stone blacksmith?s shop with a wooden stable beside, and the building to the left was also of stone, but in the semi-darkness I was unable to identify it. The other wooden structures were fairly scattered in an outer circular pattern mingled amongst various gardens and animal pens. I assumed they were simple homes to the village?s inhabitants. The village had no fence or any means of real defense such as an outer wall, thus I assumed this was a simple community of farmers. Anyway, the outside of the tavern was of stone with its windows covered with warped wooden boards. The walls were severely weathered, discolored and in some places erosion had damaged the individual stones.
I wasn?t here for the food or for companionship, but simple to meet the royal messenger as foretold in the note received a few days ago. My right hand slipped into my cloak?s pocket. The note still rested safely within, not that it really told much only to come to the village of Varesi which had been southwest of our last position. Varesi was a simple village consisting mostly of humans, thus I decided to leave my companions behind in a ancient crumbling temple, telling them that I would return within a forth night. I feared that many of my companions would cause suspicion and trouble, as for me, I knew much of who I was had to remain hidden as well. Effortlessly, I adjusted my cloak, ensuring that the hood covered my face. I wanted no undue attention in my direction.
I was confident that my companions were fairly safe, but an eerie sense of forbidding clung to me like the early morning dew. Something didn?t feel right, only I couldn?t place it. The feeling followed me as I silently crept toward the back far corner of the room. I took a seat upon a wooden backless bench. The bench wobbled on unsteady legs as I sat down. I adjusted the bench so that my back could rest against the cold stone wall and I could face the door. The table before me was scarred, stained and had a layer of grim upon it. Briefly, I placed my weigh against it and like the bench, it tottered back and forth on unsteady legs as I tried to get comfortable, but little comfort was to be found here.
Yearningly, I glanced at the opposite wall toward the towering fireplace. The fireplace was of blacken brick and the main light source for room. I would have so loved to warm the chill from my bones, but to do so, would surely attract more attention then what I wanted. Sighing loudly, I continued to survey my surroundings. The room was dank, dark, and smelled of smoke, stale ale, sweat, and other putrid odors that I admittedly had no desire to discover what they were. The other tables in the room were still fairly empty as it was still early, however they were in no better shape then the one I was at. The table nearest the fire had a couple facing each other. The couple seemed engrossed with each other sipping on ale as they talked. The man was simply dressed in a common work shirt and plain leather pants, and his female companion was only slightly younger then him dressed in a simple grey gown. Her brown hair was pulled away from her taunt face into a bun. Across from the fire and to my right was the bar. The bar appeared to nothing more then a larger waist high bench. The bartender behind it was a portly man with reddish round face and beady eyes/ He seemed to be constantly scanning the room. He was wearing a faded blue shirt, colorless pants and a stained white apron. In front of him sat a buxom blonde with her hair in a single plait wearing a bright red gown with white lacy around its neckline and a stained white apron. The bartender said something to her, which I didn?t catch and she turned in my direction. Her face reminded me of an animal whose nose had been smashed in place, and when she smiled I cringed, staring into a toothless grin. Truly, what matter of place had I allowed myself to step into?
She sashayed my way smiling the whole time. Upon reaching my table, she bent down and began to wipe the tottering table with a damp cloth that seemed to smear the grim more then it removed it. Sadly, I tried not to stare, but her bosoms bobbed in front of me like a sagging mounds of clay. Finally, she straightens herself upright, placing the cloth back into the apron pocket. With her hands on her hips, she purred ?What can I do for you, sweetie??
Instantly, bile rose in my throat, which I gulped down. I did my best to deepen my voice, wanting her to continue to think of me as male, not that I wanted anymore of her attention. God no?I moaned, but I admitted to myself that I all that I had seen so far fit this miserable little place. ?Ale? I grumbled, looking past her toward the door.
?You sure sweetie, we got here a pretty good stew if I say so myself.?
?Just ale? I replied, preferring not to brave any mystery stew. One could never know what kind of meat was used, and in some places, the stuff creatures ate surely turned my stomach. She sashayed away from me and her butt wiggled like an excited dog?s tail, as if she would ever be something I would sniff even if I had been a male. Within minutes, she returned with the ale sitting it on the table before me. She smiled again as if she was going to ask to join me, when the front door opened with a large bang.
?For heaven?s sack, Pete?what are you a bear or something? the barmaid grumbled a she moved toward him. I watched him lumber into the room. He wobbled before the barmaid assisted him into a seat by the bar. He collapsed into it with a loud crash. ?Its night? he mumbled, leaning on the barmaid and resting his head against her bare shoulder.
?EECK!? she squealed, slapping him. Wobbly, he sat upright as if he had finally recaptured his bearings. I know not what he had done, but by the small mark appearing on her nude shoulder he may have tried to bite her. Intently, I watched, wondering if the creatures we hunted had even ventured this far southwest. After a few minutes and nothing more happened as the three began to chat amongst themselves, I lost interest.
My thoughts drifted inward. Absentmindedly, my right hand slid into my cloak?s pocket and my fingers curled around the note. The last time the royal palace had sent my group a message, it had not been good news, not at all. Of course, ultimately, it had changed very little for me, since I had refused to return to the capitol. If I had, I would surely be in a different place then I was now. Had my twin done something stupid in my long absent? I didn?t know, but imagined the capitol had changed little from what I remembered. Court politics had never been my style, instead I had preferred roaming the country side investigating rumors of the bastosaer (vampires) and destroying any nest we discovered, just as my father had done before me. I also knew that my deceased mother?s advisors were not happy with my twin taking control after my mother?s mysterious death and in my place, since our by-laws stated that no male could rule, yet he was only the guardian until I returned. However, I had not been ready then nor now, to take over leading the country, and wouldn?t be as long as any bastosaer roamed the land.
The bastosaer were vile creatures of the night that feed upon the life essence of their victims. They usually lived in small packs and moved into an area fairly quickly. They would establish themselves within a dark and dank place, venturing outward only at night seeking victims. Their victims once bitten changed into mindless cystor (zombies) within twenty-four hours. Most of the time, we had uncovered these mindless cystor, but rumors foretold of true bastosaer roaming the country side, and it was these that we truly sought. Even though if I was honest with myself, I longed to wipe out all bastosaer from the Forbidden Lands and reclaim ?Aelalaer Valali? (Enchanted Palace). ?Aelalaer Valali? was said to be the breeding place of these creatures, the home of the Byrdi Paer (Noble Dead) and the residences of their emperor. The Cylia Shas (Holy war) had been raged there with my deceased father and his men leading the charge on Aelalaer Valali, no one had returned from the war. For now, it was my companions and myself task to investigate and prevent their numbers from spreading outside of the Forbidden Lands, yet even this still left a bile taste in my mouth as if somehow we should be able to do more against them. I just didn?t know what, but hoped to someday discover their weakness and strike against them.
Unconsciously, I lifted the mug to my lips taking a sip as the tavern door rattled open. I grasped, ale spitting from my lips as I stared in disbelief at the entrance. The mug slipped from my fingers as I scrambled to put it down. Everything spun, my vision blurred, and ?No, it couldn?t be? echoed through the corridors of my mind. My thoughts raced, scrambled, and rushed in every direction.
I choked down the rest of my ale, tasting nothing as I adjusted my cloak?s hood over my face. I watched, trapped between the present and the past. The man who stood within the entrance was one I had known so long ago. He had the same towering height and thin wiry form I remembered. He wore a gray band around his foreheads which hide the points of his elven ears. His eyes were no longer a soft violet, but instead a dark deep purple, almost black in color. His skim was deathly pale as if no blood circulated within his veins. He turned to the left scanning the room, and I saw a bizarre jagged scar running from his ear to his throat. His face was void of emotion, but I had once indeed known him. I was sure of that, so very sure that he had once been my father?s kes (guard). Did that mean that perhaps my father still lived?
I shook my head, knowing that it couldn?t be true, that this man who now stood within the doorway, could not be the same man at least not the man I had once known. Yet, he appeared so much like that man, as if time had stopped moving forward and he had somehow become trapped at that very time. His style of dress had not changed, and more importantly he had not aged a single day, I would have sworn on this fact, but how? He was wearing a pale green cloak clasped around the neck with a silver brooch, a white shirt, brown leather pants, knee high moccasins, and sword belt with jeweled sword within it.
Quickly, I dropped my eyes, staring into the empty glass of ale before me. My stomach spun. My thoughts were going crazy. So many questions rushed forward, and how I wanted to approach him, to ask what had happened and where was my father? Although I so wanted to do that, I feared that to do so would be one of the dumbest things I could ever do. I knew the answers to my questions, yet where they true?
Soundlessly, he slipped into the seat across from me. I jerked, totally startled and taken off guard. My right hand slipped under the table, grasping my sword. A strange odor assaulted my senses, one of blood, death, and decay. My blood quickens, and my heart began to race.
?Hunter?? He seductively whispered. The hairs on the back of neck rose as I nodded my head. He knew what I was and I hoped he knew not who I was just as I hoped he was not who I feared him to be. Alarms sounded in my head and body. I knew he was a Bastosaer, one who had retained much of who he was, and still all that I knew told me that he could not be trusted. I had to be on my toes since rumors say that a true Bastosaer had numerous mental capabilities including those which could influence another?s thoughts. I was smart enough not to look up, especially into his eyes.
?I have but a request from my master for you, hunter?.? His voice traveled off. I felt his stare upon me, and had the strange urge to remove my hood, but I resisted. Instead, I found myself thinking about what I remembered of him. He had looked pretty much as he did now, and had always been beside my father. How could he be standing here before me without him? Tears blurred my vision. I blinked them away.
?Hunter, who are you? I am Bolael Molas, and have come with a request from my master.? Again he went on about his master?s request, and yet I didn?t really give a s*** what his master wanted, but instead, I wanted to know why he had abandoned my father. With his name, there was no doubts left he was my father?s guard, a man who once had vowed to surrender his life in order to protect my father. He sat here before me, alive in a sense, for I knew he was no longer like me, he was a bastosaer plain and simple. A creature I vowed to wipe off the face of this land, yet I made no moved to pull out my sword.
?Does it matter who I am, bastosaer?? I growled, keeping my head bowed and listening intently. I heard the movement in the room, the tavern door opening and closing as more villagers entered, I heard the hushed voices, and the shifting of the Bastosaer before me. My hand itched as I held my sword tightly pulling it slightly from its case.
?Come with me.? Bolael Molas seductively whispered. His command pulled on my mind, rolled through my mind willing me to obey, but with a slight shake of my head, the command vanished. Others had tried to command me to do what they desired me to do, however they failed just as he failed. I felt the warmth on my neck as the amber crystal began to burn. The amber crystal had been a gift bestowed to me by my mother, and so far it had assisted in protecting my mind and thoughts from the bastosaer I had encountered, and this one was stronger then most.
He grasped as if surprised that he could not command me in such a matter. I smiled, knowing it was one point for me, but still, what was I do? Would he allow me to get up and walk out of here without a fight? I didn?t know. ?Bastosaer, I will not follow you blindly like a mouse, but I will walk out of here with either you alive or dead, it matters not to me.? I stated with more bravo then what I actually felt, knowing not if I could really kill a creature who still held the answers of my father?s death.
?I meant you no disrespect hunter and if I must, I will say that my master desires to form an alliance with you, in order to assist both our peoples.? Laughter bubbled up inside of me for how ridiculous was that and unknowingly I titled my head back as my laughter took root. My cloak?s hood fell slightly from my head, and like a rocket I heard his hard in-take of breathe as I quickly readjusted it and regained my composure.
?Princess Eistaes??? he moaned as I looked up. His head was bowed and his body rocked back and fore. ?Forgive me? he whispered as his hand snaked out and grabbed my left hand. I jerked it away, startled and frightened by his cold grasp.
?Forgive me?.forgive me?.? He moaned over and over as he stood up. I followed suit, however I was slightly trapped by the table. The table wobbled between us as he reached for me. His arms wrapped about my shoulders. I jerked my arms upward and kicked out with my feet. The table topped over landing haphazardly against his thighs. I jumped away, pulling my sword from its holder, standing a few feet away with it held dangerous before me. The grasp of villagers meant nothing to me as I backed toward the door, watching the bastosaer intently.
?I can not fail my master; he desires to meet with you.? Emotionlessly he stated, moving toward me stiffly. He held no weapon in his hands, for his hands remained loosely at his side as he continued to step toward me. I continued to back away, weaving through the tables. The villagers had grouped toward the left side of the room, watching intently. I felt their stares, heard their hushed whispers, but my eyes remained glue to the creature before me.
Suddenly, he launched his body in my direction. I tried to jump back, but hit a table crashing against it. I fell on top of it and lost hold of my sword. It spun from my hands landing on the ground a few feet away. He landed on top of me and his arms snaked about me, holding me in a bear hug. I struggled, kicking, and beating him on with my arms, but I couldn?t break his hold of me. He continued to squeeze me. My breathing became labored. My lungs hurt as I struggled to breathe, but I couldn?t. Everything grew blurry and dark until I fell into nothingness.
Bloody good reading.
Have a look at my sample. Its placed during the German retreat from Russia, a section of men under the command of a corporal have been detailed to escort a convoy back to Germany with disastrous, horrific consequences, the section decide that the cargo must not reach its destination at any cost.
Jan 08, 2008 @ 14:32:10
