Chapter 1

1567 C.E. Year of Rolling Storm

My greatest Audience, I am here to tell you a tale. A tale that does not start in a low place as many do. Instead it begins on a high hill, outside a high place, at a low time, in the highest of all cities. Here at the door of the Adericta guild hall, four beings will knock on it’s hard surface and start something they never expected....

Materall’s tales of the Adericta, vol. 2 page 12.

The door to the guild hall was built with two things in mind; intimidation and its ability to take a battering ram. It stood at least a man and a half tall and each of its two doors were the same in width. It was undoubtedly very thick as well. The dark oaken wood was stained to a perfect brown, and smoothed so well that it felt like touching stone. It sat in a massive archway, at the peak of which a great relief of a four winged bird of prey was carved, its wings spread in glorious fashion. On either side pots of the ever burning fire-roses illuminated the grey stone.

Lanfell stood gazing at it all with his fist held just a hand’s width away from the mighty gate of a door. He looked around him at the garden of red and yellow flowers leading up to it, and to the formidable stone walls built around its perimeter. It was more a decorated fortress than anything.

Aeava, the small flame that was Lanfell’s last remaining friend, floated above his shoulder. “You should knock. You’re going to hurt your neck if you keep looking up.” Her voice was kind and beautiful, but of a middle pitch; not too high, and not too low either. “Besides we’re already here. Just knock.”

It was so tempting to just do it. But the hard part was not that. The hard part was going to be the agonizing wait while someone comes to the door. Those moments where your fight or flight instincts kicked in as you wonder if someone kindly or terrible was going to answer. “I don’t know if I’m ready just yet, Aeav’. I mean, these are legends. People who could end my existence in an instant.”

She moved herself into the corner of his vision. “That would only happen if you gave them a reason to. Come on. Knock.”

He closed his eyes and released a heavy breath. He gritted his teeth and brought one heavy fist right to the door. *Knock* Nothing. *Knock* *Knock* The sound reverberated deeply with each hit. He knocked again, harder this time and waited. And waited. And waited.

He looked around with lowered brows. Nothing in the bushes. Nothing in the windows. Nothng on the roof staring down at him. Instinctively he took one step back, seeing as no one was home but got Aeava in the calf of the guilty leg, causing a painful singe that forced him back in place.

“Lanfell Nanseas! If you take one more step back, I will burn something.”

“I thought we agreed you wouldn’t do that?”

“Well I did not agree to sail across an ocean with you; and if I have to be on a boat again...You’ll feel it.”

“Aeav’ Maybe there not here.”

“Or maybe one of them has to role out of bed and walk the entirety of this palace of a guild hall to come to the door since you have a need to be places when the sun is barley up itself."

Not wanting to argue with something he couldn’t physically stop, he stood firm and waited a while longer. Not breaking Aeava’s rule he turned in place a looked out over the rest of the great city of Aston Taras.

From the hill the hall was set on, one had the greatest view of the sea of red roofs, crowded grey stone streets, and the Grand High road which ran straight through the center, and acted as the main place for trade. He found out the hard way that you don’t use it if you need to travel since it’s near shoulder-to-shoulder crowds made walking hard.

On it’s Northern edge the red roofs hit straight into the side of two plateaus, one taller than the other. These plateaus held most of the more important buildings in all of the city. The centerpiece of the lower one was the High arena, It’s great dark stone walls and sculptured supports were the beacon of culture and unity among all the great races who lived here. Around it were buildings with more utility like the cities Grand Library- a semi-circle building constructed around a statue of the founder; and the University of the Arcanon, a mutil part complex of domed buildings precariously built on the edges of the plateau with part of it floating off the edge and having thin stone bridges connecting it.

The higher plateau housed one massive building: The nine worlds Council chambers and the throne room of the Geritarch which was fancy talk for the high judge. The building itself was pretty much the centerpiece of the whole city -though far from the center itself. Built in a perfect circle, it had three layers of alabaster walls one up higher than the other. In between each were several other buildings of unknown` use and great towers that rose like spears, piercing the lowest clouds. In the direct center of the structure was a wide cylindrical building with far too many windows on the top, middle, and possibly the bottom sections of it. Above that were several giant floating piece of stone that revolved around a glowing blue light.

If Lanfell were not here to join the Adericta for his own ambitions, then he would definitely sign up if this was what he was able to see every day. Back home in Jardenval, there were never buildings as grand as the ones they had here. And the lack of mud on his boots only solidified his determination to find a permanent home in this city.

There was a deep clunk from the great wooden door, followed closely by a slide of something heavy. Lanfell’s heart skipped a beat and he whirled around and faced the unexpected noise, then straightened himself and his blue clothing awaiting the doors opening. “Here we go.” He whispered to Aeava. “Let’s do it.” For some reason he found breathing hard.

Aeava happily spun around him while the door opened then she took off and settled down on the ledge at the top of the arch, just under the four-winged birds tail. She always let him do the talking first.

Names flashed through Lanfell’s head. Which of the Adericta’s legendary heros would answer the door. Would it be Jorseph, the guild master himself; or possibly it could be the lovely Semana Vathanasus, the voice of the guild, or maybe it could be... The door opened wide and Lanfell held his breath.

Standing in the doorway was not a hero of legend, or a person who even looked like one. It was an old man. Very old by the look of him. He was angry looking, like everything he ever saw, did, or ate was the equivalent of a mild annoyance. He had a thin red robe over him as if he had just gotten out of bed and eyes that said the same. “State your business young man?” He spat the words with venom.

Lanfell blinked. His first intended words were along the lines of “My name is Lanfell Nanseas and I’m here to offer my skills to the Adericta.” But instead all that came out was a drawn out “Uh.” Followed by an awkward moment where he just locked eyes with the old man; whose eyebrows kept rising in a false look of interest. “I’m here to…” The words just refused to come out of his mouth.

“To, what?” He said with ten fold less patience. “I didn’t take a double shift today to play a rousing game of ‘guess what i’m about to say.’ In fact you have thirty seconds left of my time.” And he stabbed his cane into the ground for emphasis, then waited with slowly waning patience.

There was a zipping sound as Aeava floated down between them, glowing brightly and slightly larger than normal.

“What in the nine hells…”The old man squinted and leaned in to get a look at the pretty fire.

Aeava spoke after a second, and pulsed every time she said a word. “Do you have a name, kin...Good sir?

He reeled back when she spoke and had the expression of genuine surprise on his face. “That would be Dietrich Longplum. And who and what are you?”

“I am Aeava…”She said it in a regretfully helpful tone. “and I am this young man’s flame...literally.”

His expression turned to amusement. “And are you his courage as well? Perhaps you would be kind enough to explain his bothering of me?”

Lanfell wanted to reach up and push her out of the way so he could man up and speak to an old man with some form of confidence or another. But she spoke before he even got the thought to his muscles.

“Sir. and or Mr. and or Lord, Diectrich. My friend has forced me to ride on a boat across the north sea and travel for weeks on end with him to come to this door step, and to tell the first person to answer that he was here to offer his skills as a fighter to this guild seeing as they have been needing new members. In shorter terms; he wants to join the Adericta.

Lanfell mentally gritted his teeth as she spoke; hoping she wouldn’t go on a rant like she did on the occasions where she had to speak for him when his skill with words would fail. He praised her for it, and hated her for it at the same time.

After she finished Dietrich slowly grew a smile on his face while shifting his eyes between the flame and Lanfell. When the words sunk in, he gave a long wheeze that turned into a harsh cackle the like of which this man had probably not done in ages. He kept it going for as long as his lungs could hold out, leaving Lanfell standing there, his eyes closed and pinching his nose.

“You...You want to join this.” Dietrich pointed back behind him and wheezed another small cackle. Then as if he never meant it all in the first place, and laughter made him more angry, he stopped and re straightened himself as best as his frame would allow. “Dare me to say boy, but you look like your about a green as the damnable grass. Infact you look like you’ve never taken two steps outside of sword practice. And You’ll excuse me for my ignorance and ill not excuse you for yours, but do you even know what the killers in this building even do?”

Lanfell opened his eyes with a dark expression. This old man was beginning to assume too much about him and Lanfell was not going to forgive him of his ignorance. “I know perfectly well. In fact I know what it takes to become an initiate. And I…”

Dietirch stabbed his cane into the ground, making a crack louder than should have been possible. “So you’re one of those fools who worship the guild then. The ones always looking to be the boot licker, the ones that beg to just be a servant. We’ll master Jorseph has instructed me to turn you all away. We have no need for you and we have no need for your petty…”

Lanfell’s left fist smashed into the other door with a heavy thud, silencing the old man. Lanfell was not in the mood for jokes and was never in the mood for people who pick at his pride.

The light coming off of Aeava was nearly blinding with how close she had gotten to him. “Lanfell. Calm down. He’s probably just looking for some entertainment in the morning, like you do sometimes.” She spoke softly enough for Dietrich not to hear. “Why dont you just…”

“My friend has told you my intentions, sir. Are you going to humor me or make humor of me?” He put as little venom in the words as he could manage not to.

The old man tilted his head. “Well if your punching solid wood to shut me up then you’re either damnably serious or damnably foolish. Well. Then come in. I’ll show you to the sword you’ll impale yourself on.” The door barely creaked as he pushed it open the rest of the way revealing a wide hallway. “You always threaten people who threaten your pride?”

“Do you always threaten people’s pride?”

He gave another wheezing chuckle. “Every time.” He waited for Aeava to enter behind Lanfell then closed the door.

The hallway was quite a site. Straight down the center was red carpet with gold trimming. The walls were solid stone and painted a deep white. Hanging on them were the heads of beasts long slain by the guild, and Lanfell had read a few too many of the stories and recognized too many of the names under the plaques. Silguzat the self proclaimed serpent king; Destruqualnyr, the self proclaimed lord of the skies, Abadunal, the self proclaimed terror of the sands. Each one was the same, some great name followed by what that creature called himself. He recalled them one by one in his head and remembered reading stories about how the Adericta would kill them, while his mother stressed that it was too violent for his young ears.

Aeava stuck close as he walked , laying on his shoulder just far away enough to not burn him. Occasionally she would pop over to a plague, give it a once over, then return. Eventually she came in close to whisper again.“The door did not deserve that you know. Is your fist okay?

Lanfell wriggled the fingers of the subject hand and felt no pain or anything else for that matter. The silk wrappings and what was underneath it made it so. “I’m fine. I’m regretting coming dressed like this. Seems it was a waste of money and time to go and get it.”

“Well what makes you say that. If it didn’t hurt you I would kiss you.”

“Flattering. But i don’t think Jorseph wants to look at man who is kissable.”

Dietrich stopped at the second set of doors and turned to face him. “Since you are determined to take a chance at joining the peoples behind this door, I’ll have to ask you just one thing. Are you sure you want introduce yourself right now?”

Lanfell furled his brows. “Was I not clear ?”

“Actually, no. You threw your fist into a heavy wooden door, which is open to a number of interpretations, including the fact that wood makes you angry. But I did get your point. Though I don’t think you’re are getting mine.” He readjusted his stance. “Are you sure to want to introduce yourself right now, at this particular hour?

The door would be wide open right now but back in Jardevnal it was almost a crime to open doors uninvited, and dear mother’s teachings were still with him. “Were already here.” And he gestured to the door. “Please.” He managed to squeeze out.

Dietrich raised an eyebrow then shrugged. “Fine. Impale yourself all the way to the hilt.” And he reached the gilded handle and pulled the the door back.

It couldn’t have happened any slower, though not to Dietrich’s fault. Lanfell was sure that his own anticipation was sitting around the other side of that door with a knife ready to kill him. Each creak of the hinges only made the second it took to open all the more amplified. Here we go. No fear.

Once the door opened Lanfell expected some kind of low roar from conversations over breakfast or possibly the sound of metal on metal from some sparring. But he always found himself expecting too much out of situations but even still, when he was hit with dead silence and the smell of alcohol he was greatly surprised. Even greater a suprise was when he stepped in and saw the origin of the scent.

Strewn about the magnificently built guildhall were the sleeping forms of about fifty or so well dressed, undressed, and partially dressed beings . Large round tables were spread throughout and most of them either had some form of concession and/or person laying on it; or were turned, flipped, or even broken in some places. Bottles, and mugs, and baskets, and plates were as much on the floor as they were in their proper places. In one part of the hall the tables were made into a ring where one them looked like something heavy had landed and broke it in half. Over in one corner of the rectangular room there were a bunch of luxury couches, one of which had an Ilthini women with jet black hair sleeping face down; her thin tail swishing lazily in the air.

At very center of the room there was a circular set of counters built around a large white pillar. There were at least seven beings passed out on it, their head in their arms. One was a Drakkon, his leathery blue wings folded around him as a blanket.

Lanfell stood stunned, his jaw hanging low. It was far from the last things he expected; He and any being who was comfortable with killing always found friend in the drink. But it was the scene of heroes in the aftermath of wild party that stunned him more than anything.

Dietrichs Cackle was deafening in the stunned silence. “Still want to introduce yourself?”

Lanfell nodded his head without turning. He was already here. Though if he woke them up he was not sure how they would react to a clean shaven young man who boasted he was a war fighter. “Can I speak to Jorseph first?” If anyone could be sensible while hung over then it would be General Jorseph “Iron Jaw” Mawlock.

“If i can get the bastard up.”

A voice like dark honey with a thick Nocturnen accent sounded not too far away. “ Asodroa, who has you speaking so early? They must be a brave.” It was a someone about three tables to Lanfell’s left. He had his dark grey leather boots propped up on the table, and wore dark grey pants with a dark grey leather vest. Over his face was a circular dark grey hat with a brim half the length of Lanfell’s forearm in width.

“Where’s Jorseph? Got someone who wants to meet him.”

“So he’s both brave and foolish.” The figure in dark grey removed his hat from his face and looked up. His skin was a mix of grey and blue much like the color of the western horizon when the sun had just risen. He brushed his shock white hair out his face and gave a purple eyed look over to Lanfell. “Is he here to join us?

“Indeed he is. At Least attempt to.”

“Well. How about a piece of aid to you.” And he put his hat back over his face. “The guild master has a nasty right hook, and an even worse sense of humor.”

Both Lanfell and Dietrich waited to see if he would speak some more but when he didn’t cleared his throat. “Where is he?"

The Vampyr -which Lanfell recalled his race being named- raised a hand in the air like a curious serpent then lazily pointed a ringed finger to a set of overturned tables, which Dietrich immediately began walking to.

“Go find a place to sit. Jorseph the hungover is not quick about anything in the morning.”

Lanfell took a small bite of ambition and went and sat at the table with the Vampyr which he knew to be someone rather special. He tentatively placed himself across from him and waited a few seconds before speaking. “Are...Are you Draigos?

His boots stirred. “Very much so. It good to hear that there are those curious about me. But i’m curious as to who the man is that wants speak a bunch of hungover killers.”

“Lanfell Nanseas, is the man’s name.”

“Hmm. Lan...Fell...Nan...Seas.” He rolled the word around in his mouth like one would a piece of fatty meat. “An odd name.”

Dietrich started yelling and stabbing his cane into the ground next to a set of legs which stuck out from behind a fallen table. “Jorseph. Jorseph. Get up you drunk bastard, we have company.” And he raised his cane and brought it down hitting something softer than the floor.

Aeava floated down to the table and lit a candle since the massive closed curtains made the. room rather dark. “Well Draigos sounds just as strange.” She said as she went to another candle.

Driagos removed his hat again, quickly this time, and looked up. “Who said that?”

She rose of from the candle and hung in the air over the table. “That’s was me. Sorry.”

The sound of things being thrown about came over from Dietrich who had to scamper back from something. “Don’t you take your headache out on me.”

Draigos ignored the racket and focused solely on Aeava with the look of a wonder. “My, My. First curiosity of the day.”

Aeava gave what she called a bow-which was lowering and tilting herself- then spoke again. “I’m Aeava, and I am Lanfell’s flame...literally.” She loved saying that when she met new people, and seeing the wide array of reactions that they would give her. This time she got a rubbed, hairless, chin and a smile.

Lanfell used the distraction to get a good look at his face. No hair except on his head, a jawline that looked like it had been sculpted with hammer and chisel, and a pointed nose.

“An ambitious young man and his flame. Sounds like a quite a story.” He cast his eyes to Lanfell who was still looking at him. “Though Im more curious as the story that is to be written. How does this ambitious young man plan to impress Jorseph and to survive what comes after?”

There was another sound of commotion and teh man that was undoubtedly Jorseph was finally standing. Lanfell expected a wise looking man, well dressed in some military uniform possibly stained with a drink or two, good hair, and some wrinkles from experience. This time Lanfell forgot to remind himself of what his expectations often lead to, so when he saw him he could only frown in surprise.

The guild master of the Adericta was a large man, his heavily muscled back was to Lanfell and could be easily seen through the grey shirt that was torn like someone had grabbed it as they fell. His hair, almost as white a Draigos’ went down half the length of his back and was funneled through a decorative brass ring. When he turned to the table that Dietrich was pointing at he was scratching his thick white beard that took up half of his face, and was trimmed to point just under his chin. And just like the stories told, he had the eyepatch. Black, edged with silver rivets and stuck to his left eye with no visible straps, it was as much apart of him as his arm, and even though Lanfell had just seen him for the first time removing that singular piece would make him a much lesser man.

At that moment of first contract All Lanfell could do was stare like a star struck child, which in his mind he actually was.

Jorseph came and sat down next to Draigos, rubbing his one eye. “Draigos, I’d say good morning, but I think we both agree that it’s not going to be.”

“Guild master, I see you had a rather rough one? You didn’t hurt yourself again, I hope.” And they both went on grumbling for about a minute.

Lanfell knew that the mornings after a good night were never fun so he didn’t mind being looked over by his childhood hero. He just listened and waited patiently, and tried to think of a good way to introduce himself. “Psst.” He whispered to Aeava who was still lighting candles.

She came close. “Yes?”

“Can you find me a glass of water? For him?”

“Oh. Yeah. Theres one on the table behind you.”

There was a nice large pewter mug full of the clear liquid in convenient reach. Lanfell took it up and reached it over the table to get Jorseph’s one eyed attention. It caused the hair’s on his neck to stand at attention when he

“Thank you.” And he took it with a shaking hand. “I suppose you’re the reason i’m up already.”

The words didn’t want to come out again, but Lanfell was not going to embarrass himself twice today. “I am, and I’m sorry if I uh...am...uh.” He almost had it. Damn but he almost had it.

“Don’t be.” Jorseph said right before a long draught of the water. “Better to shatter the dream’s earlier than later.” He took the water and dumped the rest of it over his face then wiped with a nearby cloth. “But i hope you don’t mind if we skip the formalities. And by the look on your face you already know who I am. So that leaves the question of who you are.”

Lanfell shut his mouth and straightened up a bit. “I am Lanfell. Lanfell Nanseas.”

“Draigos go get me another water please.” He handed the Vampyr the mug and he got up and left. “Lanfell? Hm. Not the name I would pick, but who am I to judge another man’s mother.” And he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “So what is it, master Lanfell, that scrapes me off the floor this morning...And I swear, Dietrich if you open those curtains you can find someplace to be a Master Servant of!

Lanfell reeled as his soft spoken voice turned to a beasts roar. Aeava was disturbed by it to and flew into the air with a whirl of smoke. Dietrichs cackle could be heard in the distance.

He let the situation defuse for a few second before answering the guild masters question. “I’m here to offer my services to the guild.”

That got him a look from Jorspeh who had just found a plate of food and had begun eating. “And by that are you telling me that you want offer a contract?

“Eh...no. I’m here to offer my services as a fighter…” Those were the wrong words, he was not a sell sword. “Or rather I’m here to join...the Adericta. It’s been my dream since I was young.”

Jorseph ate and thought at the same time. He gave his steely gaze to Lanfell like he was reading him. “Shouldn’t your dream right now be to find a good wife and a good home?

He did at one point, he really did. The notion of a peaceful life was always inviting and for the first part of his life that was his only ambition. But now he had a greater one and the words he had to say to explain it were hard to say. “I don’t want that.”

That got him another look. “You don’t want a wife?”

“No...I...want one of those. What i don’t want is to live on a farm in the countryside. I don’t want to spend my days doing little more than just living.”

Jorseph’s narrowed eye was very hard to look at. The silver orb was like a knife that cut mind, body, and soul. “So this is about glory then?”

“Only partially.”

“Partially? Would you mind describing the other parts then.”

He battoned down every last nerve he could muster. “I would. I said it was a dream i had to join this guild, and one i want to follow. Glory is for the noble and the powerful. But glory being what it is, you cant use it to better yourself or to fix things that are broken in the process of gaining it. What I want is to make the nine worlds a better place, one large chunk of evil at a time”.

Jorseph continued to cut him with his look. For several long agonizing minutes he just looked Lanfell in the eyes guaging him, measuring him, find his worth through looks alone. A smile, a small one, but a smile none the less began to form over on the guild masters mouth. “And here i thought that this morning was going to be just another hangover. You have my interest, master Lanfell, and my curiosity.”

The facade of extreme confidence that Lanfell had managed to pull together began to crack. He let loose a sigh, too loud for his comfort and slouched slightly. “Are...Are you sure?”

Draigos had come back with the water. “The guild master has a skill in being sure. And it has never failed him.”

Several seconds filled with heavy gulps went by before Jorseph continued. “I have seen the eyes of glory hungry hounds a thousand times; and all too often they cover up the dogged search for it, with humble talk. You don’t have that look, which means your not lying to me, which also means you respect me and this guild and the ’job’ we do. If you survive the- and I still hate how they titled it- Adericta trial, then we can have a deeper talk on your motivations. Until Then i would get as comfortable as you dare. Becasue seeing as you might know of the trial, you know how it often ends.” Then he got up with his water and left without another word.

Lanfell sat a while longer shocked at how quickly it was for him to gain the interest from the old general. He didn’t even have to resort to regaling him with tales of his achievements in war. He just looked him in the eye and told the truth. Lanfell guessed thats about a good as a man can do.He leaned back in his chair an relaxed for several long moments in releif. He had taken the first step, like any journey it began with just that. One mile down, a thousand to go.

Next Chapter: Chapter 2