Valor: Chapter 1

            Although it was broad daylight outside, black curtains blocked the sun from the laboratory of Gustav Nogaspo. Technically, he supposed, it was a laboratory shared between him and several others, but they rarely made use of it, and he frankly didn’t like them.

            He murmured to himself quietly as he read over books. He was a true Mage by the standards of the Royal Academy of Aurosimmar, and though he wouldn’t be considered for a teaching position for his lack of mastery, he was beyond that of what many considered to be a “student.” He had been so for two years now, and he had made little progress up from that. He frowned as he came to the same spot on the same spell that continued to give him trouble. He’d heard that many aspiring Mages rarely broke past the stage he had reached, what many called the “Iron Window.” The reason being that though you now possessed the knowledge to see and understand what was ahead of you, you couldn’t reach it. To a layman, they’d compared it to the barred windows of prison.

            But to a mage, no… it was literally as if a transparent wall of iron was in front of him, and he couldn’t move past it no matter how he tried. Not that it stopped Gustav from trying, of course.

            “Worthless,” he said to no one, and moved onto another project. He rubbed at his eyes. He’d been awake for far too long. Still, until he made progress, he would not sleep. Sighing, he looked over this second project. He was working on enchanting a gauntlet. A basic enchantment to simply make it more durable, more capable of resisting sword strikes and hammer blows. A minor procedure in the grand scheme of things, but another common hurdle at his stage. Enchantment was a far different beast than conventional spellcasting. There were some magic-users who devoted their whole lives to it. Gustav didn’t intend on being such a person, but he would like to know the basics.

            He looked back to the open book that lay next to the iron gauntlet, and shook his head. “I need a drink,” he thought, and moved to the door, stepping out of the lab and beginning to walk down the stone staircase. Yes, some tea, perhaps fortified with something stronger (he wasn’t sure whether alcohol or magic would be the best option) would keep him up a few hours more.

            As he came to the bottom step, however, he saw a courier waiting for him. “Mage Nogaspo?” the boy asked, clutching a bound scroll in hand.

            “Um, yes. What?” he asked, somewhat gruffly. He didn’t have the time to deal with anything but his magic.

            “I have a letter for you from a, ah,” he looked to a small card, “Elias Lyttler?”

            Gustav smiled. Of the few people who could distract him from his work, Elias was one of them. “Elias, wonderful! How much do I owe you?”

            “Mister Lyttler paid for the delivery, so you don’t actually owe me anything.”

            Gustav took the letter, and then eyed the young man, who didn’t seem quick to move. After a moment, Gustav rolled his eyes and reached into a pocket, fishing out a handful of coins, handing them to the young man. The man nodded and then strode off quickly, sated. Greedy bugger.

            “Now, let’s see,” Gustav said, sitting on the bottom step and unraveling the scroll. Elias had been a close friend through their academy years, though a family emergency had taken him back to the Elven Borderlands for their last year of schooling. The last he had heard, Elias had taken up a position as a “battlemage” for a guard unit for some town called Unte Vas or something… ‘Northtree’ if translated into Toremen quite literally.

            As he skimmed the contents of the message, however, his eyes lit up, and he gained a devilish grin. Him and Elias had constantly spoken of the lack of freedoms they had within the Academy, but any position either could merit, at their skill level, would see a dramatic drop in resources.

            And it seemed that Elias had a plan that could change all that, though there were some pieces he was unsure of. Luckily, Gustav knew just how to do it…

            “William!” Michael called out, waving a hand. He wasn’t sure William would be there, but he had expected him. Judging from the lack of surprise on William’s face, the same could be said for him.

            “So you also got a letter from Gustav?” William asked as Michael sat down. They were at the Green Blood Tavern, located on the outskirts of Yewmark. Michael wasn’t surprised to see that William had coffee.

When a barmaid walked by, Michael himself wasn’t afraid to order an Orc-Heart, the signature drink of the tavern. “Aye. Was quite surprised… haven’t heard from him for a few years.”

“Longer for me,” William said, frowning slightly.

Michael smiled softly. “Don’t be too put off Will, you know how Gus was. Always a little distant even when he was right next door.”

William nodded. “I suppose that’s true. Did he say specifically what he wanted, in your letter? He was rather vague with mine, only that he had some of plan we could help with.”

Michael shifted in his seat. “He mostly said the same to me, though…” he scratched at his cheek. “He did mention that it could put my position, or lack thereof, to use.”

William nodded, motioning his hand over the cross on his tunic briefly. Michael appreciated that. Not long after William had returned to Yewmark, Michael’s father had passed on, making Solomon the new Lord of the Niels Estate. This had not undone any of the work Michael had accomplished, but now that his brother held the title of Lord, the powers that Michael previously held were now moved to his young nephews. Technically, by all rights, Michael should be a lord… but he didn’t have the land to make use of the title.

“He did mention my profession could be of use as well,” William said, removing his hand from the cross as he did so. “Which honestly makes me somewhat hesitant. After all, Gustav was never… particularly devout.”

The barmaid chose just then to return, setting down the stein and taking Michael’s silver before walking away. Michael followed her gait for a moment, and though he’d never admit it, he was certain William did as well. He looked back to William, nodding as if she’d never intruded. “I know what you mean, and though he’d never been as blatant as you were, when younger, he had no love for my nobility, even when his father suddenly found himself rich.”

William drank his coffee to try and hide his embarrassment. Michael hardly noticed as he took a swig from the Orc-Heart. It was a thick, dry stout with a hint of apple flavor, and a greenish tint to it. He’d heard it had a story behind it, that it used to be brewed with Orc’s Blood long ago, but no one put much faith in that nowadays.

“Old money versus new money, I suppose,” William admitted, wiping at his beard.

Before Michael could say anything in response, he saw William look up and behind him, grinning. Michael turned, and then stood, laughing. “Gustav!”

If there was a difference between the tanned, bald-headed Michael and the long-haired redhead that was William, Gustav was different again by far. He was a head shorter than either, and probably half of Michael’s weight. He was wearing a blue-green robe that made his brilliant green eyes all that more apparent, and when he clasped hands with Michael, he made Michael look as fair as William by comparison.

“It’s been a long time friends!” Gustav said, embracing Michael and then, even more strongly, William. William seemed surprised by the gesture, and as Gustav sat down, he frowned slightly. “I apologize I haven’t written more. I won’t lie, I tend to get so involved in my work at the academy I forget the world outside my lab exists.”

He reached into his robes and pulled out his coinpurse, taking out several silver coins. “I know I asked you to meet me here for a reason, but it’s been years, so I hope you won’t mind indulging me in your lives since then!”

Michael laughed, bringing his drink up. “I’ll drink to that, what say you Will?”

Will couldn’t help but laugh himself. “I suppose a few rounds won’t hurt!”

“Splendid!” Gustav said, grinning the same familiar, devilish grin Michael remembered from their youth. It was infectious, and without hesitation Michael drank most of his Orc-Heart in one go. He was more than willing to have a few drinks with old friends.

“So Gus,” Michael said at last, several drinks and a few hours later, “why did you ask to meet us here? Your letter was one of a man with a plan!”

Michael laughed at his rhyme, and William caught himself laughing as well, though not for the same reason. William had not drank as much as either Gustav or Michael, and Gustav seemed surprisingly resilient to the effects… either that or the Orc-Heart that Michael had been drinking like water was stronger than Michael had expected.

Either way, William had to admit his curiosity was piqued. “Yes, you seemed quite excited in your letter.”

Gustav’s eyes gained a conspiring look, and he fished a scroll out of his robes. Holding it before him, still rolled, he said “I have a friend I made in my early days at the academy, an Elf named Elias Lyttler. Compared to the usual westerners, both of us were out of place. I say this so you know that I trust this man as I would either of you.”

Both William and Michael nodded, though William’s was somewhat more hesitant. Why wouldn’t they trust him? Gustav was always of somewhat paranoid nature, he supposed, and perhaps becoming a mage hadn’t helped in that regard.

“He was pulled out of academy due to a family emergency, back in the Elven Borderlands. Even after the emergency passed, he remained there as a battlemage for the town guard for a bit.”

“Sounds like a man after my own heart!” Michael said, putting a fist to his chest. William nodded. Even though he had taken up position as a Priest for Yewmark, he had undertaken martial training at the Monastery, and had rode with Michael and the guards a few times to help keep the peace.

Gustav tilted his head to the side, squinting slightly. “Weeell, he didn’t remain a guard there. According to his letter, he found it somewhat too passive. He began to act as a sword-for-hire, a mercenary, though,” he was quick to add, “He stresses to me that he took only fair jobs, ones that were not of a wicked sort.”

That was somewhat shadier, but William didn’t see it as his place to judge. “Fair enough, but…”

Gustav held up a hand, and continued. “Well, he’s becoming quite well-known in the local courts, and he had recently found out about a transaction between the Elven Border General and King Peter. You’ve heard of the Taskurr Swamps?”

“Vaguely,” Michael nodded. “I could tell you where they were, roughly, on a map… and some sort of battle happened there?”

“Aye,” William nodded, “the last Elven War, something like… close to two hundred years ago? It had been the weak point for Torem, as we couldn’t build strong walls through the swamp, and the Elves overran it. It’s the northernmost tip of the Elven Borderlands.”

“Was,” Gustav said with a grin. “It’s been kept somewhat quiet, but aside from a few settlements here and there, the Elves have never really had much of a presence there. I guess the Elves have had some internal troubles, so they offered to sell it back to King Peter for a relatively small amount. Taskurr is in Toremen hands once more.”

“Though good news,” Michael said, “what does this matter to us?”

William thought he saw where Gustav was heading, and said “the land is open, isn’t it? There’s no lord!”

“Exactly!” Gustav said, clasping his hands together. “The only man with a legitimate claim to Taskurr, descended from the lord of centuries ago, has been rotting in prison for years. As it is, the King has yet to award anyone with the title… as, well, most don’t want it.”

“It is a swamp,” Michael said, shaking his head. “As eager as I am to make use of my nobility… which I assume is your plan,” he said, to which Gustav nodded, “I’m reluctant to simply sit on the land.”

“Oh, I don’t blame you,” Gustav continued, “as it’s not the best even beyond the swamp. From what I understand, the old border fortifications, those that still stand, are home to bandits and orcs… and some are even still patrolled by the Border Guards that still perform their mortal duty through, even after death.”

William placed a hand to his heart for a moment. “Do you mean undead walk those swamps?”

“According to my friend?” Gustav said, holding up the scroll. “Yes. It’s been a living hell for those who have tried to eke out a living on the land there, trying to live on the cheap. The Elves at least tried to keep the peace, but now that they’ve pulled out, it falls to the Empire… and, well, I’m sure you can imagine why Royal Troops won’t start patrolling the swamp.”

Michael looked as conflicted as William felt, and William was sure the reverse was true. The idea of innocent people, even if they were Elves, at the mercy of the undead, amongst all the threats of living world… William wanted to help. But how much could they do?

“Gus… I’m not sure how we could help with that.” William admitted. “Even with your friend, we’d only be four men. We’ve not the fortune, even with Michael’s help, to hire an army to clean out a swamp.”

“And is there even a place a lord would sit?” Michael asked. “I don’t ask for an ivory tower, old friend, but I doubt anyone would even accept a lord who sat in a wooden house on stilts.”

Gustav brought up both hands, warding off his friends. “There’s more, don’t worry. I wouldn’t bother you with such things if I didn’t think it possible, even if it is… somewhat risky. What if I told you that one of the border forts, at least in part, still stood?”

“I’d ask what lives there now,” William countered.

Gustav grinned sheepishly. “Err, a hodge-podge of things, from what I’m told. You see… shortly after the Elves took hold of the place, a mercenary army was hired to try and clean up the swamp. They made a base of operations out of one fort in particular, one built upon a rather stable ‘island’ in the swamp. It had doubled as a prison, with a dungeon that went down rather deep. They supposedly dug even deeper, and would end up stowing a sizeable hoard there.

“It was a good plan, but they were eventually driven from their hoard by the forces of the swamp, and it’s been fought over by the various groups ever since.”

“So it’s treasure you seek!” Michael said, a hint of accusation to his tone.

Gustav waggled a finger at him. “Don’t be so quick to judge, old friend, for I don’t seek it for me.” Michael silenced, Gustav continued. “If we were to clean out this fort, not only would we have the treasure, but we’d also have the foundation to build our own encampment on. The King would surely offer a loan to get us started, and coupled with the treasure, and what your House could provide,” he said, motioning to Michael, “I feel we stand a good chance at bringing some semblance of civilization to that swamp.”

“Your friend knows where this fort is?” William asked.

“Aye,” Gustav responded, and finally unfurled the scroll for both Michael and William to see. “He says he has a map that he had found during his travels. It’s second-hand, but he believes it to be legit. He’s scouted the area in question, and it’s indeed hotly contested by the forces that be. Orcs, Undead, Hobgoblins...”

Michael read over the list with far more learned eyes than William could muster. William was, at least as far as letters, better at reading Achdrammen than he was the more common Toremen nowadays. Michael’s eyes widened. “It says there is nearly two hundred pounds of gold there!”

“An estimate,” Gustav admitted. “The stories vary, but the more feasible say something like two and a half, but he admits his estimate is erring on the side of caution.”

Michael leaned back in his chair, taking a deep breath, as William continued reading down the scroll. “How many people live in the swamp? Good people, I mean. Innocents.”

“Hard to tell,” Gustav admitted. “Elias didn’t say, but I did little homework… at its height, before the last Elven War, perhaps two hundred people lived in Taskurr. I’d be surprised if more than one hundred did now.”

“But they do live there.”

“Oh yes,” Gustav said. “They try to, anyways. Small villages or just lone houses. Usually poorer families that couldn’t handle the taxes of the Elven border colonies.”

William looked over to Michael somewhat pleadingly. “How does this seem to you, Michael? It seems… difficult, but I’ll admit, if there is even a chance to help the living and lay the undead to rest…”

“It seems dangerous as well,” Michael admitted, taking a drink. “Even mounting such an expedition would be costly, if we wanted to ensure our safety.”

“Ah!” Gustav interjected, “I forgot, yes, don’t worry about that. I can afford to provide for armor, weaponry, and supplies, and travel to the swamp for us three.” He glanced at Michael, saying “if we’ll be wanting more than the basics, however, it’ll fall to you, Michael.”

Michael nodded, looking at the scroll once more. As Michael continued to stew over the proposal, William said “so is the plan to install Michael as the Lord of Taskurr with the money involved, while also cleansing the swamp.”

“More or less,” Gustav said. “I’ll be honest; Elias and I have intentions beyond that. Elias and I have also wanted a place to conduct magical experiments in peace. Nothing illegal, mind, but the academy is damnably confining in their rigmarole and bureaucracy.” Gustav took an angry drink, shaking his head. “However, any Lords willing to hire mages of such… little experience... most likely won’t have the resources for our research.”

“Ah,” Michael said, “so you’d want to be my court mage? What of this Elias?”

Gustav laughed. “For the record, I’d assume we’ll be part of your court! William would be the territorial Vicar, while Elias, should you accept him, could act as an advisor. After all, much of the territory’s populace are elves. Having an elf on staff would certainly assist.”

William had to admit, he wasn’t sure what to make of the exchange. Michael was approaching this rather pragmatically now, it seemed, while Gustav seemed to have thought of everything.

“What of the gold?” Michael asked, suspicion tinting his voice. “I understand that, in such events as these, we’re expected to split it…”

“Well, typically? Yes.” Gustav looked over at William, and then back to Michael. “I was under the assumption that, in exchange for service in your court, we’d devote our shares to erecting a proper stronghold. I haven’t spoken to Elias about it, but I’m sure he would as well.”

“Are you?” William asked.

“Fairly sure,” Gustav admitted sheepishly.

“Why?” Michael joined in.

“Elias seemed… most interested in a set of armor purported to remain in the dungeon,” Gustav said, pointing to the part of the scroll in question. “It’s said to be enchanted.”

William looked over that section again. He’d read it before, but reading it a second time, he did realize how excited the writer was about the armor. He also read something else of note. “It says he believes there are other magical items down there, possibly of interest to you?”

“Yes, well… yes.” Gustav cleared his throat. “I’ve hit a bit of a block in my studies, particularly revolving around enchanting. There’s rumor of some magical texts and items down there that could assist me.”

He looked to Michael, eyes pleading. “Please, Michael, at least think it over. I know it seems a long shot, but remember when we were boys? We talked about becoming princes, doing good throughout the land.” He’d tap on the scroll. “Here, Michael, is where that even has a chance of starting.”

Michael still looked unconvinced. William was also somewhat at odds, but he knew at least one thing needed doing. “Michael… I almost feel it my duty to help. My clerical training involved the banishment of the undead, and while I love Yewmark… especially in these last few years, Yewmark has become relatively safe. I’ve never even heard of the undead rising in this area.

“I’m not sure how I feel about even applying to become a vicar while so inexperienced, but the least we can do is cleanse this place.”

Michael sat in silence, staring at the paper for a moment before saying “I make no promises, but since my brother has taken over the estate,” he started, prompting William to lay his hand on his heart again, “my powers over policy have waned. But because of what I’ve done, Yewmark is also safe… perhaps it does not need me any longer.”

Gustav reached over, setting a hand on Michael’s shoulder. “Though it may not help my case, but I imagine Yewmark could always use you, friend.” His free hand set upon the scroll, he said “but imagine how much this place could benefit from you? From all of us?”

Michael grinned. “It’s an ambitious plan.”

“But not a bad one, hmm?” Gustav said, smiling.

“No,” Michael said, sitting up straight. “Not a bad one.” He called out to the barmaid, beckoning her over. “A round of Orc-Heart, Nancy!”

Having already served him several times tonight, she was able to rather quickly bring over three steins of Orc-Heart. Michael held his in the air, and said “to the liberation and cleansing of Taskurr!”

William grinned, and he and Gustav thrust their drinks into the air. “To Taskurr!”

As William went to down the brew he had avoided all night, he thought of the old story of it being made with orc’s blood… and as it slid down his throat, he wondered how much orc’s blood he’d be seeing in his future.

God protect me.