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Rodelkeep
EverKing
Introduction:
The traveler was sore. Three weeks in the saddle was far too long a time for one who had hardly ridden mortal horses more than a few hundred paces through all his life. The only time he had ridden any distance was astride a Nihrain steed and he paid dearly for that crime.
Now, necessity bade him climb the animal’s back and be borne through the rocky hills of Albion as any other man might for it had become too dangerous to travel the Ether, as he was accustomed. Yet he longed for the Ether, that lovely branch of reality that seemed devoid of all familiar thought and sensation, that place with neither true space nor time as the mortal man can perceive only an endless shifting of cloud and color shot through with the vibrant incandescence of moonbeams. Until he escaped his enemies, he was trapped on this plane, traveling the more mundane roads of earth and stone.
He stopped now to confirm that his gear was properly stowed, and in some cases, hidden. In the twenty years he had spent seeking his lost love across the multiverse many, especially on his home plane, had come to know his reputation. His sword was famous for its origins and its use, but luckily, when home in its scabbard it could pass for most other cut-and-thrusts. Only if forced to draw it would the distinctive green alloy of the blade announce its wielder’s identity. No, his sword was safe; he worried over his flintlock long-gun. The slightest bit of its ashen stock or octagonal barrel would draw too much attention and those who have seen it before never forget the beautiful silver inlay and fittings. He removed the barrel-pin and unhooked the iron tube from the stock. Laying them side by side, he gingerly rolled them in his bedroll, securing that behind his saddle and making sure no part of his famous and innovative rifle showed.
Oi, Kein! Want me to scout ahead? The telepathic shout from his friend al-Baأ¤in seemed perfectly natural to the traveler after the fifteen years they had traveled together. He watched the small figure approach, noting how the late afternoon glistened off his sanguine scales. The little drake looked like a trick played on a great wyrm by a vindictive god. Every feature was in perfect proportion as his much larger cousins, the dragons, but from nose to tip of tail al-Baأ¤in was shorter than one of Kein’s arms. They shared a strange bond, the little drake’s playfulness checked the planejumper’s obsession, yet they always understood each other perfectly. He could not even remember how they first came to travel together anymore and it hardly mattered to him. Al-Baأ¤in had saved his life on more than one occasion and he had returned the favor many times. Even so, he wondered if they were not just using one another’s unique abilities for their own ends: he using al-Baأ¤in for the natural power of the little drake and al-Baأ¤in using him for his ability to travel the roads between the worlds.
No, al-Baأ¤in, I want’ yew to stay close and hidden. I may need your particula’ brand of protection. He felt the little drake’s claws digging through his clothing as al-Baأ¤in moved from his customary perch on Kein’s shoulder to curl up around his neck. He raised his hood over his head to help conceal the small flying lizard. Thinking about that, he pulled the hood a little over his face to try to hide his red eyes and the green tattoo swirling around his left eye that marked him as a soldier of chaos.
He cast a glance at the little palomino that had so tortured him. Her slightly concave back gave him some small amount of comfort and her tawny coat was easy on his sensitive eyes. She seemed to have nearly boundless energy, riding fast and steady through the wilds with nary a complaint or lathering of her sides. The stable master in Thoracks assured him this was the best horse in the city. After the long ride, the traveler believed him. She whinnied now and gave her golden mane a flick.
“Awrigh’, we’ll get’ movin’ again,� he said, patting the side of her neck as his threw his leg over her. He could see his temporary destination in the distance, only a few more hours ride. It was a small town he had been too once many years before. After a few days rest and re-supply, he would have two months further to reach his home of Esztasi.
With a flick of the reins, the hot-blooded mare rolled up to a canter. The traveler gritted his teeth against the pains shooting through his stiff body as each rolling step made him bounce uncomfortably in the saddle.
EverKing
Introduction:
The traveler was sore. Three weeks in the saddle was far too long a time for one who had hardly ridden mortal horses more than a few hundred paces through all his life. The only time he had ridden any distance was astride a Nihrain steed and he paid dearly for that crime.
Now, necessity bade him climb the animal’s back and be borne through the rocky hills of Albion as any other man might for it had become too dangerous to travel the Ether, as he was accustomed. Yet he longed for the Ether, that lovely branch of reality that seemed devoid of all familiar thought and sensation, that place with neither true space nor time as the mortal man can perceive only an endless shifting of cloud and color shot through with the vibrant incandescence of moonbeams. Until he escaped his enemies, he was trapped on this plane, traveling the more mundane roads of earth and stone.
He stopped now to confirm that his gear was properly stowed, and in some cases, hidden. In the twenty years he had spent seeking his lost love across the multiverse many, especially on his home plane, had come to know his reputation. His sword was famous for its origins and its use, but luckily, when home in its scabbard it could pass for most other cut-and-thrusts. Only if forced to draw it would the distinctive green alloy of the blade announce its wielder’s identity. No, his sword was safe; he worried over his flintlock long-gun. The slightest bit of its ashen stock or octagonal barrel would draw too much attention and those who have seen it before never forget the beautiful silver inlay and fittings. He removed the barrel-pin and unhooked the iron tube from the stock. Laying them side by side, he gingerly rolled them in his bedroll, securing that behind his saddle and making sure no part of his famous and innovative rifle showed.
Oi, Kein! Want me to scout ahead? The telepathic shout from his friend al-Baأ¤in seemed perfectly natural to the traveler after the fifteen years they had traveled together. He watched the small figure approach, noting how the late afternoon glistened off his sanguine scales. The little drake looked like a trick played on a great wyrm by a vindictive god. Every feature was in perfect proportion as his much larger cousins, the dragons, but from nose to tip of tail al-Baأ¤in was shorter than one of Kein’s arms. They shared a strange bond, the little drake’s playfulness checked the planejumper’s obsession, yet they always understood each other perfectly. He could not even remember how they first came to travel together anymore and it hardly mattered to him. Al-Baأ¤in had saved his life on more than one occasion and he had returned the favor many times. Even so, he wondered if they were not just using one another’s unique abilities for their own ends: he using al-Baأ¤in for the natural power of the little drake and al-Baأ¤in using him for his ability to travel the roads between the worlds.
No, al-Baأ¤in, I want’ yew to stay close and hidden. I may need your particula’ brand of protection. He felt the little drake’s claws digging through his clothing as al-Baأ¤in moved from his customary perch on Kein’s shoulder to curl up around his neck. He raised his hood over his head to help conceal the small flying lizard. Thinking about that, he pulled the hood a little over his face to try to hide his red eyes and the green tattoo swirling around his left eye that marked him as a soldier of chaos.
He cast a glance at the little palomino that had so tortured him. Her slightly concave back gave him some small amount of comfort and her tawny coat was easy on his sensitive eyes. She seemed to have nearly boundless energy, riding fast and steady through the wilds with nary a complaint or lathering of her sides. The stable master in Thoracks assured him this was the best horse in the city. After the long ride, the traveler believed him. She whinnied now and gave her golden mane a flick.
“Awrigh’, we’ll get’ movin’ again,� he said, patting the side of her neck as his threw his leg over her. He could see his temporary destination in the distance, only a few more hours ride. It was a small town he had been too once many years before. After a few days rest and re-supply, he would have two months further to reach his home of Esztasi.
With a flick of the reins, the hot-blooded mare rolled up to a canter. The traveler gritted his teeth against the pains shooting through his stiff body as each rolling step made him bounce uncomfortably in the saddle.
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