City of IF

[Chinaren]

Chapter 7. King without a Throne.

The Duke snarled. "Well boy?”.

Byrold looked at him steadily whilst panicking inside. He glanced at the audience, which was sitting mouths agape for the most part. With one exception. Eldra was grinning evilly. So, this was her plan!

The prince ran through his options. No doubt Brone and Eldra had prepared well. They would be expecting him to choose a duel by magic, making the common mistake that he was better versed in the Lore than he really was. Hence Duke Brone would no doubt be loaded up with magical wards. Even if Byrold could manage a fireball, it would probably bounce off. This called for an unexpected tack. Perhaps he could still use his skills to tilt the balance.

He took a deep breath and spoke clearly, trying to keep his voice from breaking. “A king should use the tools of honor,” he said, drawing his newly gifted blade. “I challenge you to combat by sword.”

The Duke looked startled for a moment, but then laughed nastily. “So be it! At least you will be spared a slow death.” He drew his own sword, a weapon well used Byrold couldn’t help noticing.

“One moment Duke.” The Prince raised a hand. “I wish to take a moment to consult with The Greater God.”

Brone bowed graciously, confident now in his victory to be. “Take several minutes. They will be your last on this earth.”

Hark pulled him to one side before he could do anything. “What are you doing? Are you mad?” He hissed. “Brone will cut you to pieces!”

“You have little confidence in your own schooling Hark,” smiled Byrold.

Hark rolled his eyes. “You are a good swordsman I admit, better than most, but Brone is a veteran of a thousand fights. You are untried in real combat. This is not school.”

“I am aware of all of this,” Byrold put a hand on the weapon-masters’ arm. “Fear not, I have a plan. Now, if you will excuse me.”

Hark paused for a moment, but then sighed and nodded. Tarall and he stepped back as Byrold bowed his head in prayer. He stood still for a good minute, speaking quietly on the stage, whilst hundreds looked on.

Finally he raised his eyes and looked at Brone. “I am ready.”

The Duke smiled and brought his weapon up. “Then let us finish this.”

With no warning he lunged forward, and Byrold was forced to skip back, tripping over his own feet to avoid being gutted. Even so he barely managed it, landing on his back on the platform as Brone swung down.

Byrold yelled and rolled to the side, falling off the stage and landing in the front row, who scattered.

The chair next to him splintered as the Duke caught up with him. Byrold scrabbled away, in an undignified retreat under several seats and through legs of fleeing onlookers, nearly losing his sword in the process.

Eventually he crawled into a space and managed to stand up, red in the face with his fine robes all askew.

Brone saw him surface and fought his way through chairs towards him, lunging once more as he closed. Byrold was ready this time though, and blocked the attack, launching is own counter immediately after.

Brone was forced back a step, surprise on his face at the unexpected swordplay from the prince.

“Not as easy as you though eh, Duke?” Panted Byrold, his sword held in front of him.

Brone smiled. “It is of no concern, fast of slow, the outcome will be the same.” So saying he launched a flurry of strokes, forcing the prince backwards in turn, desperately parrying and dodging.

It soon became apparent that even with his fathers’ sword and his elite schooling, Byrold was hopelessly outmatched. The Duke was a seasoned soldier, a general who had led from the front in many campaigns. Byrold may have been younger and fitter, but the age difference was more than made up for in experience.

They battled on and over the seats in the temple, the audience forming a circle of spectators around them, moving with the fight. Byrold had no time to concentrate on anything except his opponent and his ceaseless attack. Several times the Duke cut him, and once came within a hair’s breath of skewering him through the eye. Each time Byrold managed to avoid disaster by the smallest of margins. No doubt without his new weapon it would have all been over in the first few moments.

He was tiring now, and Brone seemed to be going strong still. The sword felt like lead in his hands, and his movements were slowing, each swing blocking the Duke by smaller and smaller margins.

Brone was aware of this. “Tired Prince? Don’t worry, it will all be over soon, and you will have eternity to rest.”

Byrold spat and countered once more, but could no more penetrate his enemy’s defense that he could summon that fireball. It was time to try something else.

The fight moved backwards onto an aisle, and without warning the prince turned and broke, running up towards the doors.

Brone roared in anger at this apparent cowardice, and chased after him. Byrold reached the top of the aisle, and slipped through the exit, turning to stand in the middle of a small waiting room beyond.

The Duke caught up, and launched himself at the figure of the prince with a wild swing. His sword connected! And passed through.

“What?” Brone looked about, just in time to see Byrold lunge from his left.

The Duke was fast, but he was taken totally unawares, and the princes’ sword took him squarely in the side, plunging deep into his flesh.

There was silence for a moment. Byrold pulled his weapon back, and blood spurted, staining the marble floor black.

Brone opened his mouth, struggling to bring up his own weapon. “You…” He managed to say, and then fell backwards.

Byrold leaned against the wall and threw up.

>

“You used magic?”

“An illusion. It’s one of the few things I can do, and even that only for a moment. I had to time it just right. It was a crude attempt if truth be told. Had Brone paused he would have seen through it easily.” Byrold winced as he felt a cut on his arm.

They were in a small room behind the stage. The prince was sitting on a stool as Hark attended to his wounds. The temple was being re-arranged. The ceremony would go on.

“Even so, it was well done for your level.” The powerful voice of Mazel rang around the small chamber. “Especially in combat. I assume you cast the spell when you were ‘praying’ and then spoke the activation rune later?”

The prince nodded again. “I had no chance otherwise.”

“You put up a better fight that I expected, truth be told,” said Hark, bandaging another small cut on Byrold’s leg. “Though I think we need to have some further sparring sessions when this is all over. Some of your footwork was terrible.”

“I am worried that someone will challenge your use of magic in the duel,” said Tarall. “You specified swords, not spell craft.”

“Hopefully no one will ever find out,” said Byrold. “The illusion was aimed at Brone exclusively. No one else should have seen it. Only those in this room know of such. I hope none of you will mention the matter?” He smiled.

Tarall laughed. “I shall remain silent.”

“As shall I,” said the wizard. “Brone was not an ally Mordon would be comfortable dealing with.”

“How about you Hark?” Byrold looked at the warrior.

Hark smiled. “Your secret shall be safe with me sire.” He stood up. “Now, that should hold you for the nonce. Shall we carry on with this coronation before everyone becomes bored and goes home?”

>

“Thus, with the blessing of the Greater God and the people of Yroth, I hereby confer upon thee the title of King. May your rule be lengthy and wise, and bring prestige to the land.”

The Patriarch lowered the ancient crown on to Byrold’s head. “All hail the King!”

“King Byrold! King Byrold!” The crowd cheered and threw white roses.

The new king smiled and stood, waving his hands, and the audience subsided after a moment. Byrold noticed Eldra in the crowd still. She was still smiling, despite the earlier defeat of her hero. The King frowned for a moment, but put the matter out of his mind as he addressed his subjects.

“Faithful Yrothians! Whilst I lament the passing of my father, who died before his time, he left the kingdom in good health. We are strong, we prosper! We have allies who would stand beside us in times of need!” He gestured at several of the ambassadors, noticeably the Mordon wizard, who bowed in recognition.

“I would say this to those who look to harm us. Yroth is strong. Attack us at your peril! We are a peaceful nation, but once riled we are fierce beyond words!”

The crowds cheered.

Byrold waited until the noise subsided and then carried on. “I pledge that under my reign, this land will continue to prosper. We have troubles yes, but we shall stand firm and overcome them. Together we shall prevail!”

Once more the crowd roared its approval, and this time Byrold let it wash over him. He nodded to his aids, and his guards stepped forward to clear a path for him to walk down. He strode up towards the exit, waving and acknowledging people in the crowd, his aides close behind. He noticed several more ambassadors were present now, including one from the lizard race of Iswyle and a hooded figure who could only be from the necromancer’s land of Charredal. Standing in the back was even the large figure of a Desert Troll from Glormp.

He moved out of the temple and onto the street, where a further bout of cheering greeted him from the crowds waiting outside. He smiled once more and nodded and waved as he moved towards his waiting carriage.

There was movement from the side, and suddenly Mazel was there. “Ware your highness! I sense magic aimed at you! Stand still!”

Byrold looked about wildly as the Master wizard started incanting in a low voice, raising his staff as he did so.

Hark and Tarall rushed forward but there was a roar as a ball of white light emerged from within the crowd, which screamed and tried to flee. The energy pulse flew towards Byrold, but exploded short, throwing everyone nearby to the ground with the force of the shockwave.

Mazel had raised his hands high and was now chanting loudly, as several more spells pulsed through the air from different sides, all aimed at the King.

The crowd was thrown into a panic, and screams of those fleeing merged with those of those who where crushed underfoot in the stampede. The area around Byrold was quickly emptying, and that allowed the King to see four the four robed attackers, standing at even intervals around him.

As he watched they raised their arms as one, and a giant ring of orange fire sprang up between them, frying several unfortunate stragglers. The circle centered on Byrold.

“That looks like…” Gasped the newly crowned king.

“A transportation ring,” finished Mazel, through gritted teeth. “I doubt they want to send you somewhere nice sire.” He waved his staff, and a bolt of energy shot forth from it, towards the nearest attacking mage.

The figure didn’t move, and the spell bounced off as if had hit an invisible wall.

“They are well protected! King Byrold, draw your weapon, it has defensive charms! Hark! No!”

The weapons-master looked about. He had drawn his sword and was heading towards one of the attackers. At the wizards’ shout he pulled up. One of the Royal guards didn’t heed the command though, and swung his sword at the enemy.

The unfortunate man exploded, spraying clothing, bone and blood over a wide area. Byrold winced. The hooded mage was unharmed.

“They are closing the ring!” Shouted Mazel. “Everyone get down!”

Byrold ducked as the circle of fire shrank, enclosing him in orange light and enveloping him with a loud roaring sound. Mazel said something, but he didn’t hear it over the noise.

There was a flash of light.

There was darkness.

>

Hark picked himself up. The four assassin mages had disappeared. Mazel was lying on the floor groaning. Of the king there was no sign.

>

Byrold groaned and clutched at his head. He felt as if he had been dragged backwards through a thorn bush.

Opening his eyes he looked upwards at several large trees. He frowned. Where was he? The last thing he remembered was the coronation and… the attack!

Byrold sat up and looked around. His crown, so recently placed there, rolled off. He picked it up as he took in his surroundings, which appeared to be some kind of small clearing in a forest. Looking down he saw that he was still garbed in his coronation robes. His sword was lying beside him.

The king stood up and scratched his head. The trees were of an unfamiliar type, and it seemed to be warmer than he remembered it being. Of course! The attackers had cast a transportation spell! He was… somewhere else.

Byrold moved forward. He had to explore, to find out his location. Wherever they had intended to send him, he doubted it would be somewhere good for his health. He climbed a mild incline, pushing through shrubbery, hacking the odd bush aside with his sword. Not the most dignified use for the royal weapon perhaps.

Eventually, panting and sweating, he pushed his way out of the woodland. He was on a hill, the brow of which was a little way ahead. The forest, or possibly jungle, stretched out to the left and right behind him.

Byrold climbed the rest of the slope, sword still in hand, and crested the brow, keeping low to avoid silhouetting himself. Stretched out below were cultivated fields. A small village, perhaps a farming community, was some distance to his left. Groups of people were bending in some of the fields to his right, busy planting or possibly harvesting crops. It was a little hard to see at the distance.

He squinted. There was little cover. It was doubtful he could get closer to the workers without being spotted. As he watched a group of men on horseback approached along a dusty road. They were heading for the village, and disappeared amongst the houses before he could get a good look at them.

Byrold crawled backwards and glanced up at the sun. Evening was approaching. His ceremonial clothes marked him as a stranger, as well as having the disadvantage of being fairly useless in the way of warmth. He carried no money, though he was wearing a necklace and a ring of gold. Ironically his crown was a hindrance now, yet there was no way he could sell it. At least he had his sword!

He swore. He had to get back to Yroth, but he didn’t even know where he was. What was he to do?


>>>>>>

So, a bit of a plot twist there. All dressed up with no country to rule. What’s his next move people?

For the set players, I will send you a PM with more information.

<<<<<<

[Jack_D.Mented]

He should ambush and rob a farmer. Yank his clothes as a disguise. Then get moving. See if he can gather some intel.

[Smee]

hmmm... interesting plot twist indeed.

He has been crowned now at least, so whilst he's not in his kingdom, some time has been bought before a claim against the crown can be made. Had he not finished the coronation a move would probably happened immediately.

So where are we? I agree it's probably not a nice place, but I'm not convinced it's as bad as it might have been. If their plan was to teleport him somewhere truly nasty then they'd have done so immediately. Why waste time with the first attacks? I'd say this was a quick 'plan B' when they realised Mazel was there for defence.

Based on what we've seen so far I'm going to say we're in Country-Iswyle : ... mountainous and lush land. It's as far north as Glomp, which is a desert, so would make sense it'd be hotter than Yroth. The mountains form a line down the border between Iswyle and Glomp which means the rain proably gets trapped on the Iswle side, making it lush, and Glomp a desert.

But why would they choose such a place to send him?

Because the only way to get from Iswyle back to Yroth is to pass either through Glomp - a harsh desert. Charredal - the necromancer place, or Centic, the place with closed borders populated by the rather nasty insects. None of those are going to be trivial, and any direction is a long distance.

The only other way, would be far to the south west of Iswyle, a narrow stretch of land that eventually borders with Mordon - the mage's land. Throughout this journey we'd have the insects on one side, the necromancers on the others. Given the small army of Iswyle, despite this being within Iswyle borders I'd say it is just as unfriendly.

However, there's one flaw with my reasoning. We saw men, and the population of Iswyle are lizard-people...

No other land descriptions provide other clues though. Perhaps we're in Vestrel, yet to be described?

~

Remove some of the more ostentatious clothing, make a bundle out of it to carry the crown in, and head closer to the village. Until we find out where we are, we're not in a good position. Might make things worse by going to the village, but if we get arrested then at least we'll be fed and in a cell rather than outside in useless clothing.

Happy Writing. :)

[JezSharp]

Great chapter as usual China :)

My first impressions were that he is on the northern border of Neil so. I f5 Smee in that it was a quick plan B to dump him there as it is very close if so. My reasoning stemmed from the fact that he had to push through some forest land (suggesting either the edge of the Etherial woods or the famous woods of Neil so which provide the bark for their boats - probably the former). The people bending down could be the rice farmers.

However that wouldn't explain the fact it was hotter, and the forest of Etherial would hardly be a jungle... :? Therefore it may well be as Smee said, he hasn't come close enough to the 'people' yet to get a clear view and at that distance could easily be mistaken - and it would explain the heat...plus thinking about it he would notice if the fields were rice fields due to their whiteness so I'd favor Smee's idea.


I'm not so sure about robbing and ambushing a farmer...it could work well but could go horribly wrong (although I suppose that applies to all the current plans). I think he should approach cautiously and see if he can better establish the people and therefore the land he is in (keeping his crown well hidden). If they are friendly then he can seek shelter, if they are unfriendly he can work out which border he needs to head for fast and rob a farmer for the disguise as it probably doesn't matter too much if he upsets them.

[dinranwen]

I f5 Jez and everyone else. Make yourself as unobtrusive as possible, find out where you are, and find out if the people are friendly. Based on what you find out, make your decision's from there.

It certaintly wouldn't do well to appear dangerous at first, no matter what. The mages who transported here were probably nice enough to dump you near a convient border, so you may have to travel through a large part of the land and the last thing you need is to travel through a country full of people angry and supsicious of you more than they will any stranger.

[The White Blacksmith]

We have a few guesses, but we don't really know exactly where Byrold is. I would say take Mr. Mented's plan, then, incognito, try and find your way to the nearest city, where you can work from there.

[hewithoutaname]

Well done China.

For what to do, I would say Byrold should stay low and take observation of the village before him. From there he should be able to notice any obvious signs of a threat, or in reverse an ally. As with the crown, I also would say if he does decide to head into the town, it should stay hidden.

[Mother Goose]

Great story, China; always something new!

What about Byrold's magical powers? Is there anything he can do with those to help himself - get in touch with the loyal mages back home, who are probably using all their power to search for him? Or make himself invisible? Or at least conjure up a less conspicuous costume?

Meanwhile, yes, hide the crown and be cautious about approaching the village. Don't attack anybody unless attacked.

[OldJoe]

Ah reckon if he could use his magical powers that'd be great. Howevah, it seems he 'aint all that up on those.

Move forad slow like, see if he can gather more intel.

[D-Lotus]

I'm guessing that these evil mages did not intend for Byrold to run around freely. Wouldn't they transport him to somewhere where they could easily capture him? Why leave him in freedom?

I think that this location was a mistake- that the high mage who was protecting us somehow managed to 'deflect' the transportation, and that he managed to place us somewhere other than where intended.

If the high mages can't find us, that means the evil mages probably can't either. So for now, we're safe, except that we have no protection against the world, no guards or advisors. Byrold v.s the big, bad, everyday world.

Well, the robe is useless if it doesn't keep him warm, and it only attracts attention. Try to keep the crown- it might be useful to prove he really is the king, if he gets back to Yroth. Try to approach someone quietly, on a one on one basis, maybe one of the farmers. Ask them for some regular clothes, a bite to eat, and a place to sleep. For now, he needs to avoid the freezing night Exchange robe, jewels, whatever, for what you need. It might seem strange to them, but they won't ask questions or report it if you promise them more.

The next day, ask for directions, location, transport, etc. Make sure you find out where the hell you are.

[Kalanna Rai]

First I doubt Byrold is in Iswyle for two reasons. One those were humans riding horses, Karven don't look like men and they'd need some huge horses. Two, Karven don't live in houses. Still if he's in Iswyle approach the people with caution, once they take offense to people it's hard to get them to like you again. But they are very hospitable.

Right first off does Byrold know languages becuase if not then chances are he's not going to be able to communicate with the people. If he does then he can think about communicating.

I say he takes the robe off, surely he's got something on under it, and wrapps the robe around the crown, ties the whole bundle onto the end of his sword and sneaks close enough to listen to the people. If he knows what they're saying it accomplishes two things. One if he knows the language he knows where he is. Two he can start to reason out a plan for barganing with these folk.

If he doesn't then that eliminates the places he could be and he needs to figure out how to communicate his needs. Maybe he puts the robe back on, skews his crown, hides his sword, and pretends to be mad?

That's all I've got for now.

[solus.serpen]

Kalanna Rai wrote:
Maybe he puts the robe back on, skews his crown, hides his sword, and pretends to be mad?


:lol: I like that one!

Still, I don't have many Ideas of my own atm. :wacko: little worn out.
I'll come back when I do...

Solus

[Smee]

Quote: Karven don't look like men and they'd need some huge horses. Two, Karven don't live in houses. Still if he's in Iswyle approach the people with caution, once they take offense to people it's hard to get them to like you again. But they are very hospitable.

Oooh Kalanna - giving yourself away here I suspect. Or should I call you ..Nimue Lydaris!

Same colour writing, inexplicable extra knowledge of the people of Iswyle....

[Chinaren]

More than enough suggestions for a poll methinks.

...and if by magic... :witch:

[Jack_D.Mented]

Voted.

Went more for the Hitman approach that I suggested.

[Chinaren]

Mmm. A three way tie so far. Anyone care to break it?

[The White Blacksmith]

Smee wrote: Rai wrote: Karven don't look like men and they'd need some huge horses. Two, Karven don't live in houses. Still if he's in Iswyle approach the people with caution, once they take offense to people it's hard to get them to like you again. But they are very hospitable.

Oooh Kalanna - giving yourself away here I suspect. Or should I call you ..Nimue Lydaris!

Same colour writing, inexplicable extra knowledge of the people of Iswyle....

And don't forget that the Karven think themselves descended from Dragons, a perfect country from our own Assasin's point of view.

[Chinaren]

OOh, kinda close!

I will be starting the next chapter in a few days, so time is running out if you haven't voted.

Plus, don't forget to add this to your favorites! :D

[Almar Crowkiller]

Im going with lying low but thats me and maybe im even too late on this so cheers

[Chinaren]

Right then. Looks like the quiet approach just took it. Thanks for voting everyone. Poll is closed.

I am starting work on the next chapter. Hopefully up this week. I am a bit behind schedule on this one.

[Masterweaver]

Expecting with great anticipation!

[Chinaren]

Next chapter is done, so this thread is being locked down. Thanks for all your input!
:D