Saturday, December 17, 2011

The Story of Dalmar: An Exchange of Salt and Faith

Dalmar shivered mightily as he groggily awoke the next morning before the sun broke the darkness. The sounds of barking dogs and ringing chains echoed through the halls of the dungeon startling him from a strange dream, and sent him off the edge of the stone slab jutting from the wall and on to the floor. Instinctively, Dalmar caught his outstretched body as it slammed to the cold stone like a leopard vaulting from its ambush point in the trees, and his flat palms quickly adjusted to catch his own weight as his chin whiskers grazed the floor. Dalmar winced and slowly opened his eyes to see the dirty floor in front of his face as he rolled over to his back and rubbed his hands. His back and his shoulder ached with the inauspicious groans beset by the cruel torment of the uncaring stone features of his cell. His back seemed to creak like the ropes of a ship as it tossed over the waves of the sea, and his joints appeared to grind together like the wheels of an old horse cart as he raised himself to a stance. Dalmar walked over to the door once again and peered through the slit. Three guardsmen walked outside leading another faceless, dirty ruffian through the halls shackled in chains to his own hole in the earth, and Dalmar sighed and turned around, leaning against the door momentarily as he paced the room a couple times before resting again on the stone bed. He peered through the top of the bars in the ceiling again, catching the last bit of the night and early morning as the first fingertips of the morning began to pry apart the mists rolling in from the edges of the forests surrounding Altendon.

Having spent what seemed like hours counting the stones of the walls and ceilings, Dalmar was startled once again to turn his attention from the solitude of his shadowy recess to that of the dungeon again. The door rang loudly as men stood outside his door twisting the heavy wrought iron ring that served as the door's lock and swinging the door open with a strong push that sent the heavy door crashing into the side of the wall. Dalmar stood up. Two large men wrapped in cloaks of bear skin and chain mail entered into Dalmar's cell while a third, well dressed man with black hair and neat, black beard stepped through calmly behind them. With a quick, deliberate gait the two men crossed the room over to Dalmar and grabbed him under his arms as the dark man stood and addressed Dalmar. "Zeke, I presume?" he said. The man's fine mesh glittered with recently polishing of its golden mail, and his thick hide wrapping his back and shoulder gave him presence and girth. "I am Dorian. I am ward to King Polias. The men have told me that you have a message for our king. Is this true?" Dorian's eyes seemed to graze over Dalmar like the edge of a knife, shearing all extraneous ahirs from his limbs and face and reaching the meat of his flesh. A fourth man stepped through the doorway and shut the door behind, standing firm at the door behind Dorian. Dalmar paused, wondering who this man was and why he was not taking Dalmar to the presence of the king. Dalmar bit his lip as his own eyes scanned over the room and the men before him. "Come now...cat got your tongue?" Dorian beckoned once again.

"Yes, I have a message for Polias...." Dalmar squeaked from behind a dry throat.

"Ahh, there we go! Well, whatever this message is, you can tell me. I will see that he gets the message. I promise." Dorian paired a smile with a smirk as he crossed his fingers with one another. Dalmar cleared his throat and shot a sideways glance at each of the men to either side of him. Taking notice, Dorian relaxed his stance a bit. "Oh, I see" he said. "Release him. I'm sure we are quite safe. Zeke isn't going to do anything rash, is he?" Dorian smiled again at Dalmar as the two men broke their holds on Dalmar's arms and took a step away from Dalmar to either side, hands on the hilts of their swords. "There. That's better now, isn't it? Now, tell me...what is this message that you bring our lord?" he said again.

"Well, Dorian..." Dalmar began. Relaxing his stance, and sat back down on the edge of the stone slab and addressed the king's guard. "...My partner and I had traveled into Altendon to gather supplies for our trip to Irongard. We were looking to find ourselves a place there within the ranks of their fight against the orcs. But when we had just got us a couple of horses when we stopped into a tavern. Before I knew what was happening...."

"Yes, yes, that's all fine. But what is the message, man? Let's not confuse things with details" Dorian interrupted Dalmar. Dorian's abrupt manner annoyed Dalmar as he lowered one of his eyebrows and clenched his lips together with a wash of nuisance.

"Fine." Dalmar said as he sat upright and stared Dorian into his eyes. "A few days ago, I woke up in a cell. It wasn't until shortly afterwards that I found myself to be in the desert, holed up for the purpose of fighting in some arena kept by someone they called Sarat..." Dorian's face changed to one of intrigue, and he shuffled in his stance for a moment. "...that's where I met Sa'Vahn. He was captive there, too, no doubt being made to fight in Sarat's arena, too." Dorian took upon a thoughtful appearance as he swung his two arms behind his own back and looked down at the ground for a moment.

"And...Lanthis is it? Where was he?" Dorian asked.

"I don't know. He was nowhere to be found. We were apparently separated after being captured. I intend to discover his whereabouts." Dalmar said sternly.

"In due time, Zeke. But then, how did you escape?" Dorian queried.

"I was lucky to have overcome one of the guards coming for me. I grabbed his key and unlocked the only other cell with someone that I thought was capable of escaping with me. The rest of the men in the cells were old, tired, and looked like they were at the edge of death." Dalmar said. Dalmar knew that the truth of his and Sa'Vahn's escape would bring undue scrutiny, and he decided to give his tale a twist of his own to promote plainness.

"And so, you and Sa'Vahn escaped how, exactly? Dorian probed further. "Is that how Sa'Vahn's met with his fate?"

"Well, no, not exactly..." Dalmar said. "It was only by fate that we found little struggle out of the place where they were holding us, but to get out of the arena, we had to pass through the arena. We had to fight our way out in the arena." Dalmar paused waiting for Dorian's scrupulous retort.

"So, you and Sa'Vahn, in a blaze of glory, no doubt, fought through a showering horde of Sarat's men and won your freedom? " Dorian began.

"Well, it wasn't like that at all, really..." Dalmar replied.

"Oh, I see." Dorian said. "Perhaps Sarat felt guilty for capturing you, and let you two go to brave the perils of the desert. Is that it?" Dorin said as he stared Dalmar inquisitively. The three other men chuckled in unison at the ruse of the king's guard.

"Well, it wasn't that either. You see, when we entered the arena, we had to fight our way through a few men, it's true. Having prevailed, we were let go without anything more than our swords and the desert for which to look forward. Did we stay behind to ask questions? Hell no, we didn't. We ran for the opening and set upon our way!" Dalmar began to become a bit frustrated with Dorian's questioning, and the sounds of his flustering began to creep into his voice. Dorian took notice.

"When our men found you, Sa'Vahn was mortally wounded, the blade still fresh in his body. Where did you get that cart? Surely, Sarat didn't fit you with cart and provisions for your journey in thanks for your entertainment." Dorian raised an eyebrow, thinking himself clever.

"We ran across a supply cart traveling to the arena on the way out of the desert..." Dalmar answered.

"So, you overcame the men on the cart and stole their goods? My, Zeke, you are a resourceful fellow! Tit for tat, eh?" Dorian smiled at his clever rhetoric, and grinned at his comrades who smiled back. "But, you see, Zeke, that doesn't explain how Sa'Vahn ended up with a sword through his body. You know what I think? I think you and Sa'Vahn argued for whatever reason, and you killed him. You plunged your sword into his body, and thought to get some sort of reward for returning one our lost soldiers." Dorian's face turned stern as he breathed heavily through his nose, lips clenched tight in maligned accusation.

"Now, hold on a moment" Dalmar shouted. "That is not what happened. Sa'Vahn and I reached the edge of the desert together, unharmed. But we ran across a post of some sort. We knew we couldn't make it all the way back to Altendon on the things we had, so we tried to get some things to help us get home!" Dalmar became angry, and his agitation pleased Dorian. Dorian smiled, picking his moment like a well-aimed dagger.

"Is that when you killed Sa'Vahn?" Dorian said as he stared at Dalmar.

"I did not kill Sa'Vahn, damnit!" Dalmar stood up with an aggressive stance. The two men to either his side jumped to attention and pushed him back down onto the stone slab as Dalmar caught his senses again. Dalmar looked at each of the guards above him. Dalmar let it go again. He knew that if he fought them that his story would never carry any salt, and he relaxed and lowered his tone. Dalmar addressed Dorian once again. "When we got out of the desert, we ran across a home or post of some kind where Sarat's men had apparently stopped. The place was filled with supplies and more men. There's a woman who lives there. If you ever go there, you'll see that it's built into the side of the mountain against which it rests. We waited, Sa'Vahn and I, until most of the men left the next morning and then we charged inside. I was knocked off balance as Sa'Vahn rushed into the doorway. It was there that Sa'Vahn met his fate." Dalmar peered up at Dorian who stared down at Dalmar with unbelieving eyes, shaking his head. "That's the way it happened. I swear it." Dalmar said in a low voice.

"I see." Dorian said smartly looking at each of the guardsmen out of the corner of his eye. "Once again, you escaped. How did you get that wound on your hip?" Dorian asked.

"As I was fighting in the arena, I was struck by a blade." Dalmar said. Dalmar had almost forgotten about the wound from the horrid creature in the arena by this time. He dared not tell Dorian about the beast he slew or by what manner he fought it. Dorian's demeanor was already of an unsavory sort of speculation, accusatory and inflammatory.

"Well, I'm afraid fate is left to the hand of Polias at this point. I promise to tell the king only what you have told me today. It is up to him now whether or not he wishes to see you, and whether or not your story spells salvation or doom for you.But fear not, my dear Zeke. Polias is a wise and just man. If there's at all any shred of truth to your story, he will surely find it." With his final words, Dorian turned as the guard opened the door. One by one, each of the men exited the cell, and the door loudly slammed against the stone doorway once again with a click as the black iron lock came to. Dalmar sighed and put his hands between his hands, rubbing his temples. He wondered what the exchange meant, and once again he was faced with the inevitable turmoil of the unknown. He didn't want to have to rely on his natural gifts to, once again, aid him in his troubles. He had always believed that truth was the way to freedom of both spirit and mind. e did not fully trust Dorian, but he had the trust of truth. He was unable to believe that his fate was as dire as it appeared. All the battles and experiences that he had come to in his life yetsofar could not simply yield an eternity such as this. He could not fathom that after speaking with the goddess, that she would forsake him in this manner. It was then that he found faith once again, and began to trust in the unknown. He believed that his purpose was not yet fulfilled. Things would work out for him and his quests. He leaned against the wall once again, and peered out of the hole in the ceiling. The sun began to drip through the bars of the room, and he now noticed that the room was a bit brighter than before. With it and his faith, Dalmar, too, as the room filled with sunlight, was a bit brighter.



Invino Veritas
12/17/11
EOF

No comments:

Post a Comment