The Kingdom of the Emerald Hills

The shadow effortlessly knocked the black tipped arrow and waited. The changing of the guard was punctual. Just the way it should be.

‘Sneaking up on a fatigued sin can getcha killed…or worse.’ Snapped the motionless archer.

The giant warrior stopped in his tracks. Sutra could tell the difference between fear and respect. The air was thick and heavy with a pleasant mix of both. Mertag leaned slightly as he prepared to ask.

‘So I’ll just tell Eniad that nothings changed…” asked the noisy inquirer.

Chirping cicadas and calling frogs sang into the night sky, the flow of things seemed to be undisturbed.

‘Yeah…ok, I’ll let him kno…’ The shades clenched fist quickly shot up, Mertag froze and waited. ‘There, you see it?’ demanded Sutra.

‘The guards?’
‘They aren’t ours.’
‘Maybe they’re refuges?’

Sutra squinted and examined the chuckling figures outlined by their lit torches.

‘No, not ours.’

Their travels back home had been an ardous one. After having left the northern outpost of Red Storm from their Ides celebration, intriguing signs and omens had plagued the Artusian caravan. They had passed several abandoned farms and villages. No trace of life. As if they had just decided to pack up and leave. And the glyphs. Freshly carved etchings into stone and tree alike snaked its way ahead of their path. Sutra could sense dark magic at work.

And now this. Sutras mind raced to retrace the scribbled handwriting on the torn and faded parchment. A messenger stated that the kingdoms regent was in direct threat for her life while on a kingdom visit East, no king in sight. She was last seen between her home Barony of King’s Point and Artus Pass.

The last thing the newly apointed sheriff of Artus Pass needed was a dead kingdom officer on their lands.

The weary travelers remained at the edge of the forest overlooking their welcoming home, out of curious speculation that something was indeed amiss. Eniad and the others stayed hidden while Sutra decided to get a more informative look. The goliath wizard had begun to discover newer majicks that caused him to become slightly more elusive than usual.

The dark one wracked his brain with thoughts as to why Cynisca would travel without the newly elected tzar, Darktigger. Was she running to or from something. Someone perhaps?

‘Who trespasses on MY LAND!’ echoed a mad voice from the forests edge.

The guards quickly stood to attention and pulled on the hilts of sheathed blades. They focused their sights in the general direction of the echoing inquiry.

‘I will not repeat myself again – WHO DARES INVADE MY LAND!?’

Confusion stirred the men into defensive maneuvers as a single captain barked orders to the men over the clanking sound of armor and shields. They focused their efforts on the weakest wall of the outpost. Slowly but surely the keep had managed to refortify its position since the goblin attack that caused them much.

The spark of druid majick crackled in the air, powerful and focused it danced along the edge of the forest. The trees seemed to come to life as they began to glow the deepest luminescent hue of green Sutra had ever had the pleasure to see.

A single figure stood defiant against the amassing shire guards. A heavily armored warrior walked forward with blade in hand.

‘It’s him…’ quivered a lone voice among the anxious defenders. Sutra could sense the majickal aura encircling the female wizard. The regent had come to see what the commotion was all about. ‘It’s the king…’ she solemnly confirmed.

The murmuring among the townsfolk and her personal guard babbled like a lively stream.

The kings speaker clearly announced.

‘TRAITORS TO THE CROWN WILL NOT BE TOLERATED!’

The frenzy among the townsfolk spread like wildfire. ‘Why would the king declare the inhabitants of Artus Pass traitors?’ Sutra asked himself.

‘Call the others…be prepared for a confrontation.” Sutra directed at the large warrior. Mertag simply nodded with a rejuvenated smirk. ‘On it.’ He quickly disappeared into the dark wooded depths.

Artus Pass…traitors to the crown? How, here they were safely hosting the kings regent. Much had to be answered, but before anything else transpired, Sutra and the others had to engineer a plan to diffuse the brewing situation.

S
[con't]

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The general who advances without seeking fame and retreats without fearing disgrace, whose only thought is to protect his country and do service for his sovereign, is the jewel of his kingdom. -Sun Wu

The shade found himself just yards away from a sword line of royal defenders. He had made sure to visibly present himself to the crown. Though he was a sin, he was still a politically minded individual, and in some cases; talking was a second best alternative to violence.

The king's entourage gripped sword and shields with expert ease.

'I'm here to confer with the khan of the Emerald Hills. I am...'

A confident voice quickly interrupted. 'I know who you are dark one. But it doesn't change the fact that you are playing host to a hell spawn.' The king approached the inquiring sin.

'I expected more from you Sutra.'

The shade was momentarily speechless. He had word that Darktigger was said to be not himself of late, but to accuse Artus Pass of being traitors let alone housing a demon was on verge of lunacy.

'If your grace allows it, I will confirm this report personally and provide you with the fac...'

'THE FACTS ARE THAT TRAITORS WILL BE DEALT WITH!' howled a gruff blonde captain. His shorn head revealed a flushing forehead. Sutra realized this warrior would probably rather be back home surrounded by friends, mead, and women. Instead, he must have been ready to split shield and head over having to be here, at the doorstep of such an insignificant outpost, at the bidding of his king.

‘I know that!’ contested Sutra. ‘I heard you the first time.’

Darktigger raised his hand and silence fell across his twitchy men.

‘You have ten minutes to confirm these accusations. Nothing more. Fail to do so…’ Sutra could see the growing restlessness among the king’s men as he spoke.

‘Do I make myself clear?’

Sutra turned on his heel without a response.

No man or force of nature would come between him and the well being of his new found home and family. No god or devil would shake his faith. Especially a king of flesh and blood.

Sutra studied the battle rampart as he cautiously approached. He had heard mumblings of stranger things still plaguing the barony of Mourningwood Glenn. Word of opening portals and wandering spirits preoccupied the weary men in the king’s camp. Whispered fear coursed through the veins of their makeshift camp.

The veteran sin unfurled the green banner he had hidden in the nearby tree line before his approach.

‘Don’t come any closer or you will be dispatched with extreme prejudice!’ barked a voice from behind the wall.

Sutra snarled at the statement and made a mental note to personally meet with the owner of such an elaborate threat.

‘I am Sutra Bahu…’

An arrow whizzed by the sins left side by a couple feet before striking the damp earth behind him.

‘That is your only warning.’

Sutra howled out with confused laughter. If one more person interrupted him this night, he’d probably find himself bathing in the blood of innocent.

‘Aria! If you can hear me, it’s me, Sutra!’

The second arrow lodged itself in his right arm. Sutra hated seeing a camel with a broken back or the pulling of the last straw. It was the overwhelming sensation of vengeful fury that muted him, that pulled him away from the realm of physical pain.

The arch of sizzling lightning made for an awesome spectacle of death. The shouts of the defenders could be heard over the sounding of the ringing alarms. Sutra was able to piece together words here and there about the smoking husk of an archer.

Eniad’s voice thundered as he called upon the heavens to rain angry fire upon the strangers lining their homes defenses.

‘To arms!’ shouted a voice behind him. The king and his men began their assault on the outpost. Artus Pass was under attack. Not by goblins or raiders. But by the mad king of the Emerald Hills and her very own.

Mertags war call made some of the defenders flinch. Sutra could only fathom the father’s thoughts on the safety and whereabouts of the family he entrusted to the walls of Artus Pass.

Snapping the protruding arrow shaft down to a few inches of exposed wood, Sutra gripped the short sword he almost never wore and made a dash for the weakest part of the shires defenses. The small town had been charmed against teleportation through the combined efforts of majicks freshly cast. A good defensive gesture indeed.

Sutra would have to rely on every fiber of his physical and mental stealth to get answers tonight.

The king raised his hand to the skies and the smell of earth magic filled the air before tendrils of vegetation broke from beneath the feet of running defends, coiling around them tightly – verdant snakes of strong tree roots incapacitating men and women alike.

It was in this very moment that Sutra glimpsed the female wizard casting high magic against their aggressors.

‘Where is that blasted assassin!?’ she shrieked.

‘He’s been injured, he poses no threat m’lady!’ eagerly responded a young monk bearing the regents device on his tunic.

If the grin forming on his lips could shed light on his inner most thoughts, Sutra would have been seen coming from miles away.

An archer pointed and shoot at the shield man protecting the king. The veteran archer had grown slow in his ability at knocking arrows. Sutra acted.

Sutra sprinted past confused throngs of running defenders as he zeroed in on the regent. A dark pulse of sinister power washed over the focused shade. Dark, supernatural energy emanated from her. Energy he had experienced in the presence of the ancient ones. The power he felt her was a mere shadow of their dark energies, but it was of the same place. Forged through the majicks of hell fire.

Sutra had meet Cynisca before, but ever at her high levels of mage majick could she master this kind of sorcery. The king’s information had been right. The work of something unnatural was afoot.

His blade slid effortlessly across the back of the stalling archer and found itself buried in the regents back. The sound of wet snapping flesh and breaking bone was invigorating. A secret pleasure gripped Sutra’s most intimate nature. He repeated the stabbing process twice more to ensure the breaking of any protective majicks. Sutra howled with primeval satisfaction in the success of his hellbent decision.

The unearthly scream the regent bellowed cause the fighting to halt. A bright flash of light and the smell of pungent sulfur was suffocatingly blinding.

What remained at Sutra’s feet was a smoldering husk of oozing muck and flesh. The pooling icor bubbled before lighting on fire.

The gasps and confusion gripped the ocean of onlookers.

Dark machinations indeed.

S
[con’t]

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The general who advances without seeking fame and retreats without fearing disgrace, whose only thought is to protect his country and do service for his sovereign, is the jewel of his kingdom. -Sun Wu