I must confess, I like Gnorm's idea of writing up one of the meetings. Both for Thane's thoughts, and to see how the Evening Prayer Group gets things done. Also Thane, if you could write up a bit where Thane reveals the truth of Dantheman's stalking to Tarmid, I'd much appreciate it.
Brenzen's meditation was interrupted by the crash of the door. He rose and wheeled on the intruder, hand moving to the handle of the pick at his belt. The intruder would be dead within sec-
What the hell was Tarmid doing here?
"Tarmid," the knight growled. "I trust you have a reason for barging into my chambers like this?"
The Loremaster looked haggard. His skin glistened with sweat, and his wide-open cobalt eyes flared like sapphires in firelight as they darted every which way. Even Brenzen had never seen him like this.
"Did something happen, Tarmid?"
It took several moments of tense silence before Tarmid could catch his breath. Brenzen eyed him suspiciously the entire time, hands close to his pick. He knew Tarmid had been reading the Apocrypha, the most forbidden texts in the Order, deemed too dangerous to remain public. Had he glimpsed the forbidden secrets within and gone mad as a result? Were his eyes dashing through apparitions in his sight, here one moment and gone the next, all within Tarmid's exhausted but formidable mind?
"I've found him," Tarmid said at last. His voice sounded distant, like he'd spoken from the far end of a hallway lined in rope reed cloth.
"Found who?" After several seconds without a reply, Brenzen's voice rose. "Tarmid, who did you find?"
"Joyce. Joyce is the Father."
Brenzen gaped.
"Vhat is the meaningk of this, Tarmid? Ve can't hold Eveningk Prayers vithout the sacred hooch!"
"There are more important things to think about today, Vlad." The baron was taken aback. It had been months since Tarmid had called him anything but 'your lordship'.
"These past few years, since our most gracious friend Joyce left us, I have been scouring the books looking for him. I know I'd heard the name, but did not know where. I later found a Joyce in a collection of correspondence dealing with ancient Steelhold."
"Okay, so he was some joker who read old letters," said sober, level-headed Cornelius. "Or he just had the same name, however unusual. It happens. From what we know, both of Saint Rhaken's long-lived sons were called Stinthad."
"That would have been the case," Tarmid replied, "if not for what we discovered afterward. We inspected the sterling silver sarcophagus in the lower levels. Inside of it was that Blackmore fellow who brought it in. Drained of blood."
The Evening Prayer Group nodded, taking it all in. After all these years, they had learned not to question the actions of their representatives of the Order. They couldn't get a straight answer and at least the two were trustworthy.
Tarmid continued. "Sir Brenzen and I were promoted some years back. With my promotion came a new heap of material to study. I've been digging through it all ever since, and thanks to Thane's gifts-" she smiled at him-"I've finally been able to find what I was looking for."
"In the year 157, when The First Iron invaded Clearstockades, they found but a few hundred Bloodkin. By the time they had breached the gate, several of the fiends had escaped, including Nish Woodlabor, their general." Tarmid spoke in his teacher's voice, keeping them interested, though he nearly cringed at how many details he'd skipped.
"They had made for the caverns beneath the mountain, presumably to regroup elsewhere or await reinforcements. They were ambushed in the deep, however, by a small party of our Knights. The two forces clashed and decimated one another, while Nish and another Bloodkin fled. Four dwarves gave chase, though none of them was of the Order." In the back of his mind, Tarmid noted he had their attention.
"The dwarves caught up with the Kin, and promptly slew Nish while the other ran on. Eventually, they caught up with him as well. He was the real target. Corley. Father of the Bloodkin."
Gasps escaped the lips of the secret rulers of Demongate. They all knew the legends. The Bloodkin had been created by three of the dwarves of Steelhold. Corley, who was the Father, Asmoth, his grand-aunt, who was the Mother, and the mad Shank and Queen Kivish, who were Uncle and Auntie. At one point or another, every dwarven child had been told to behave or Shank would come to them in the night.
"They fought Corley to the best of their ability, but succeeded only in disabling him. Even fire would not destroy the Father. So they dragged him back to Clearstockades with a blade driven through skull and heart. They interred him in a massive sterling silver sarcophagus, and plunged it into the ocean to sink into oblivion."
Silence surrounded the dwarves in the chapel like a cloak of thickest shadow. It hung there for as long as it dared, until Thane's hushed voice tried to break through.
"So Joyce was the Father?"
Tarmid nodded, and the silence regrouped around them. Later, they would have much to discuss. For the time being, they reached for their casks and drank without a word.
Safely ensconced back in his office, Tarmid scratched at his recently-trimmed beard. Now that his research was mostly concluded, he kept feeling like he was forgetting something. Cobalt eyes swept the room, searching for an answer, or something to jog his memory. They drifted through open books and open bookshelves, through the spines of dusty tomes and recent notes still smelling of ink. They inspected writing materials and work orders and the tarp in the corner-
"FUCK."
Tarmid ran to the gemstone arrays, yanked the dusty tarp and flung it toward the corner. It had been months, maybe more than a year since he'd looked at them. The Bloodkin could have come and gone and he would not have known a thing.
He inspected them now, trying to remain calm enough to interpret the motions. The thaumometer was roiling and glowing, a pattern of light that cast restless shades across the cramped office. Magic was afoot, and plenty of it. Tarmid had to cover the thaumometer before he could inspect the bloodstone array, and what he saw there made his blood freeze.
The crimson specks were moving. A Bloodkin was among them.
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Topic: Demongate: Wrapping up the Loose Ends. (Read 697336 times)