Yamara - Book 2 - Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The trip into Dagrazt's dark realm, Mardurin, had taken Fizzulthorp and I many weeks. We took a circuitous route to confuse any potential pursuit, as well as to allow us time to be more certain of what we were doing. I had no doubts of my intended goal, but I needed information still. Both Fizzulthorp and those I queried along the way provided the substance of that information for me.

Dagrazt, more commonly known simply as the Dark One, was older then anyone could remember. It was rumored that he had existed since the before the great wars had stripped Malatoria of great civilizations. When the races had turned from science and learning to magic and religion, much as they had in ages so far past no written or oral record of them still existed.

As a side note it had also explained the strange stars to me. Apparently the power of the ancients had been so great that they had been able to create the brightly shining stars that rocketed across the night sky each night. Hundreds or more of them in the course of a night, brighter and larger then the rest but still so small that they seemed distant stars racing across the sky. They served no purpose such that I could see, but the ancients of Malatoria apparently used their powers of science at a whim for their own trivial amusements.

Dagrazt had reportedly been a great one even among the ancients. With the destruction the great wars rained down upon Malatoria many were slain and greater was the loss of knowledge. Dagrazt had seen it coming and prepared himself for it. A great amount of his learning had been saved and retained, hidden deep beneath the surface of Malatoria. In addition to maintaining the old, his embraced the new way of life as well, rising quickly in power and solidifying himself.

His powers and his following grew rapidly. He enlisted the aid of the craven, the weak, and the power hungry. Races once noble and respectable, or at least civilized, fell under his sway. Promises of greatness proved to be the chains that bound them. The sacrifice of freedom and autonomy came later.

Warped and twisted by Dagrazt's magic and his science, the minions became fey and more powerful. Dagrazt's promises became true, though in a way beyond any that they had dreamed possible. The modern races of trolls, orcs, ogres, giants, and others had been created, forever sundered from their more enlightened ancestors. It was interesting to me to learn of their creation in such a manner. On the world of my birth the story of creation had been told differently, though the evil humanoids I described were indeed created by powers so great as to be considered by Gods by those who worshipped them. This Dagrazt then, by that set of prerequisites, was qualified to be worshipped and considered a deity.

It sent shudders down my spine. To think that a man could become so powerful. I was greatly relieved to learn from my repeated prying that the place I sought, the home of the latest powerful Baron of Mardurin, lay far from the capitol. Far from Dagrazt.

My gladness was tempered by the gut wrenching sense of emptiness I felt when I learned of the rumors surrounding this Baron's consort. The descriptions of both the Baron and his mistress were halting and brief, given their mysterious nature to those we encountered, but it seemed to me that more then just James had survived our final encounter. It seemed that Brina had as well. I could not understand the how or the why of her continuing service to him. After what he had done to her - he had slain her and sundered us, after all - why did she continue to have relations with him? Something nagged at the back of my mind but I paid it no heed. I repeatedly decided that he must have some sort of magical coercion over her.

Another point that Fizzulthorp continued to remind me as we progressed was that the creatures we interrogated were largely stupid and unreliable. They were merely lackeys fit only to serve as fodder on a battlefield. We had taken to capturing small bands of patrolling orcs, goblins, and the small wiry humans that seemed native to the lands bordering Mardurin on the east. My greatest surprise lay ahead of me, yet it reminded me all to deeply of my past.

"Why do you do this?" Fizzulthorp asked me as we sat around a small campfire one night. In less then a week we stood to enter the border realms of Mardurin. With the increasing proximity his anxiety had risen steadily.

I looked at him for a long moment, studying my short companion. We had gotten along well enough, though both of us felt certain that at no point would we ever call the other a friend. This time though I knew he would not accept the same evasive techniques I had used all along to avoid his question. Perhaps it was time for me to go on alone.

"I need to kill James," I said, staring belligerently at him. I dared him to refute me.

He dared. "And I'm beardless dwarf!" He snorted. "I have learned much of you in our time together, Yamara. Enough to know more about you then you would have known. Forget not that I am your elder by nearly 50 years. We gnomes age slower then you humans."

I shrugged. I had no intention of letting him bother me. Or at least letting him know he bothered me. "That means I am younger and faster, gnome. And as you have seen, very capable."

He snorted. "You behave as a child. Listen to me for once, instead of hiding behind that adolescent swagger you cling to so preciously."

I bristled. It was definitely time for me to part company with the pretentious wizard.

"You don't care about James," he continued, ignoring my dark expression. "You are after something else. I have known you enough to know that a person like James, even having wronged you as you claim he has, does not get this sort of special attention from you. You do not forgive. You do not forget. But neither are you foolish enough to cross hundreds of leagues merely for the sake of proving a point."

I stood up and turned, intent upon leaving. The fool of a gnome knew nothing about me. I whirled back on him then, speaking with barely controlled fury. "What do you know of hate, runt? What do you know of vengeance? My mother was a whore killed by a patron. It took me a decade to find him and kill him."

Fizzulthorp nodded, not breaking contact with my eyes. "I am sorry for you, Yamara. Sorry to see you touched so young by pain and hatred. I see that you have known little else. It saddens me. I hope you can open yourself up to the joys that life can offer before your hatred gets you killed. Or worse."

That condescending bastard gnome. My hands were clenched and the color drained from my cheeks. Pity? I did not need his pity! I was done with him. I would have slain him then and there for his manner with me save that he had been the one to tell me about James' and, presumably, Brina's continuing existence. So I turned about yet again and took my first step towards Mardurin.

What bothered me the most was that he was right. I hated to admit it. Hated it more then I hated him, at that moment. Yet it was true. I was, at best, a coward. I was running from what he said. Running from the truth. I had done so before, justifying my actions to myself when the simple truth lay before me. Nay, not truth, fact. Truth varies by perspective. Fact remains constant.

"He took something from me." I turned around and looked back at him. He seemed a little surprised. Good. I was too.

"What?" Fizzulthorp asked, recovering after only a moment of silence. "What could possibly be worth the quest you give yourself?"

"If you know me so well, mage, then you tell me," I spat out at him. I headed back to the fire and picked up the small pack I had bought a few weeks past to store some of the more common items I needed for traveling a long time in the wilderness. In my rush a few moments past I had forgotten all about it. Stupid and careless. I needed to be much more careful.

"Leaving?" Fizzulthorp asked again after I had put the pack on and slipped my cloak over it. It made me look as though I had a hunched back.

"Yes, I tire of your company," I said, giving him a look that told him what I thought of him.

"Very well," he responded, not moving. He was silent a moment before he continued. "Here then is my final lesson to you about the Dark One's realm. It is a realm much like any other, such as Elendar. He is the Lord supreme of it all, yet each area is run by a lesser Lord. James is known to his vassals as Baron Palungol, for the barony of Palungol lies in the northern reaches of Mardurin.

"Head west and north and you will reach it, barring discovery or capture by the hordes of orcs, trolls, ogres, giants and giant-kin, fallen humans, or scores of other evil minions of the Dark One. The barony you will enter first is known as Emmerdwim. It's lord is Baron Ssythanduras, a powerful lizardman with skills at both sorcery and priestly magic. Much of Emmerdwim is a swamp, with some drier areas housing settlements of various races.

"They varied races serving the Dark One may live in relative peace, but know that there is no prosperity. They constantly vie for power and hate each other only slightly less then they hate those not of their fate. Your blond hair and height, though normal for a human, will mark you as different from the Havrin. The Havrin are human as well, but as you have seen from those we have avoided or captured, they are smaller and darker of build and hair."

I nodded. The gnome did indeed seem possessed of an unusual amount of knowledge. Then again, he was a wizard. They made a habit of knowing as much as possible. On the world of my birth gnomes typically made poor wizards. Usually those that pursued such a route became parlor magicians, thrilling people with minor illusions and works of divination. Fizzulthorp was no such court jester.

"My thanks then, gnome," I said stiffly. "Now go from here and return to Elendar. Tell King Avercrombie that when my task is done, perhaps then I shall return to him. Perhaps."

"I think I will wait nearby for word of your quest," Fizzulthorp said, ignoring me. I fought back the scowl and simply shrugged instead. I had more important things ahead of me then worrying about the rebellious magician.

Continued in Chapter 6