User blog:Emperor Maximus/Age of Industry: Tales from the Fireside III

(Part 1) (Part 2)

The small child yawned and rubbed his eyes. It was nearing the time that he normally fell asleep.

'Are you tired?' asked the grandfather with concern in his voice. 'Because if you are, you should really just go to bed. It is rather late, after all.'

'No, no, I'm fine!' insisted the child as he stifled yet another yawn. 'Just one more story, please, grandfather? Then I'll go up to bed, I promise.'

His grandfather chuckled at the boy's enthusiasm. None of the child's siblings seemed to enjoy these stories quite like this one did, despite how many there were. The grandfather reached out for the wood pile and lifted up a thick chunk of dark-coloured pine. He carefully placed it on the fire, poking it until it was in just the right position. 'Okay then,' he began, 'What sort of tale would you like now? You've had the story of Dick Turpin and General Kamodus, who else do you want to hear about?'

The child sat in quiet thought for a while. What did he want to hear about? He had heard about the dashing rogue, the stern commander... but he hadn't heard of any noble warriors. 'Tell me the story of a brave knight, from those olden days, with his shining armour and glittering sword. I like all the paintings we have of them, but I don't know any of their names.'

'Knights, you say? An excellent choice. How about the story of Velryn Atheron, who founded the Order of the Knights of Azura, and slew many a dangerous monster?'

The child's face lit up with excitement. 'Yes granfather, tell me about him! He sounds exciting!'

'I think you will enjoy this one. Now just imagine a world quite unlike ours. There are no factories belching out dark clouds of smog, there are no airships flying over the skies, there are no guns or rifles. Just steel and magic.'

_____________

'They say the Lady of the Rose speaks to you,' called out a mud-spattered peasant. 'What is it like to be in the presence of a deity?'

The question seemed simple and innocent enough. This was just a simple farmer wanting to know more about the world. Velryn Atheron paused, holding the reins of his horse to stop her. 'You work these lands, serf?'

'Yes, sirrah, yes I do,' replied the man. 'What of it?'

'Have you ever had to speak before your local lord?'

'Yes, many a time.'

'Imagine something like that. But there is no fear in your voice as you speak to him, and there is no evil pleasure in his as he issues rediculous commands that can never be fulfilled. You share a bond of trust, love, and respect. And every moment in his presence is as memorable as your first kiss.'

The peasant's eyes were wide with astonishment at the Dunmer's poetic words, and his mouth hung open. Realising this he quickly shut it, and stammered an apology to Velryn for his rudeness.

The Dunmer merely smiled and waved away this apology, flicking the reins and riding along without another word.

This was a nice area of the province. He was in High Rock, near the Wrothgarian Mountains. The peaks poked up through the horizon, and the low-lying sun shone through the tree trunks and leaves, producing soft dappled sunlight that fell all around him. There was much beauty in this place. A pity that it was also home to a malevolent beast that had been attacking farmsteads for the past year. But that was why he was here, to rescue the helpless from their plight.

Velryn Atheron truly was a sight to behold. He wore a shining steel cuirass with a red cross emblazoned across it. His gorget also had the same red cross engraved, and the pauldrons had a moon and star on them. Lower down the arms, his vambraces continued the moon and star motif. Tassets covered his groin, while a chainmail hauberk from underneath the plate continued down the legs to protect the rest of them. All of his armour was immaculately clean, without a single dull area. But if one were to look closely, they would see that it had seen a great deal of use. Chipped edges and light gashes marred the plate, and there were several links missing from the chain. There was a longswrd at his side with a jeweled hilt, and daedric runes were engraved along the scabbard. A large kite shield was slung on his back, the red cross again appearing.

The Dunmer continued to ride for most of the evening. When he finally set camp, it was deep into the night and strange noises could be heard from all directions. But Velryn did not fear the denizens of the night. Indeed, let them come, so that he could stop them all the more easily! He whispered a prayer to Azura and lay down on his bedroll, sleeping lightly so that he would be awoken by any unfamiliar noises.

The next morning he continued on his journey. This beast that he had set out to kill was infamous throughout the region. It had risen to power a year or so ago, and the local peasants had been suffering for all that time. When Velryn had received word of this he immediately began his journey, swearing to rid this evil from the land.

The city of Shornhelm rose up from the horizon, With a little more speed, he would be there by nightfall. With great will he spurred his horse on. She galloped and galloped across the plains, until foam was coming out of her mouth. He had to stop often to let her recover, but nevertheless their progress was very quick. Velryn reached the city gates by the time the sun was setting. After handing over a few septims to the stablemaster he entered the city and strode through its streets with great importance and urgency. Many of the people, having heard rumours of this most pious of knights, gazed on in wonder at him.

Without tarrying in any way he arrived at the castle, and after a few words with the soldiers on watch duty he was allowed in. The main hall was long and spacious, with fires burning away in their braziers. A dozen or so guests sat at the table, feasting upon a large dinner.

'Who are you?' came the harsh voice of the count sitting on a wooden throne. He was a young man with a short balck beard and scruffy hair. He sat slouched in his throne, a scantily-dressed woman sitting on the floor next to him, her hand tied to the chair leg.

'My name is Velryn Atheron, liege. I am here because of reports of a hideous beast roaming the countryside, pillaging the peasants' estates and forcing them to live in famine.' He took particular notice of the woman tied up by the chair.

The lord snorted with derision. 'I've heard of you,' he began, 'But what is this nonsense about beasts? Are you out of your mind? There have been no attacks in years! Now get out of my castle. He waved his hands in an effort to send Velryn away.

The Dunmer looked up at the lord, and a smile flickered on his face as he took slow steps towards the throne. 'Perhaps you did not understand me, liege. There is a terrible threat to those innocent farmers that I must remove.' Then, suddenly, he sprang into action. With the speed and grace of a cat he rushed forwards, vaulting over a table, and came to land right in front of the lord, his sword out in his hand.

And as he plunged the glittering blade into the lord's stomach he whispered in his ear 'You are the beast. For men are by far the greatest monsters of them all.'

As he extracted the sword from the gurgling nobleman he turned to face the hall. Terrified faces greeted him, and many of the guests sitting at the tables shrieked and ran away. The soldiers in the hall shouted out in fear and anger, most of them readying their weapons and charging at Velryn.

A twisted grimace formed on his face as he adopted a defensive guard. His eyes glowed with a pale light. 'Forgive me, Mother, for I have sinned. Now lend me your strength so that I may seek retribution.'

The first of the soldiers was cut down with ease, and Velryn yelled out in rage as he charged into the middle of the others. Blue energies swirled about his body, protecting him from harm, as he cut a bloody swathe through the soldiers. His vision was tinted with a pale haze, and the rage took over.

When his anger had finally subsided he was left standing in the middle of the hall. There were well over two dozen bodies littering the floor. When he looked down he noticed that there was a large pool of blood under his feet, and it was growing larger. Multiple stab wounds stung with pain, and he could feel his breathing coming in ragged bursts due to several broken ribs. Curiously, his armour was gone, and he was standing there naked by the fire.

'Hold still,' came a soothing voice. 'Or you'll tear the stitches I spent the last hour putting into you.' It was the woman who had been tied up at that lord's throne, he could tell without looking. 'I suppose I should thank you for my timely rescue,' she added, 'I dread to think of what Ciaran would have done to me when the guests had left. I spoke up against him during the meal, you see.'

Velryn closed his eyes and smiled. Heat radiated off his front, and two sets of fingers danced over his back with various oils and poultices. His quest was over, the beast was dead. He did not know where Azura wished him to go next, but she had not yet spoken to him even after killing Ciaran. Perhaps she was allowing him this one night free from concern and prayer.

He would use it wisely.

_____________

The grandfather looked down at the little boy. He was curled up on the floor next to the fire, fast asleep.

'Heh. You said you would make it through the whole story, little one. But no matter, you wouldn't have understood the ending anyway.'

Without too much difficulty the grandfather picked up the child and carried him upstairs, into a long room with half a dozen other beds. He carefully laid him down in the empty one and pulled the quilt over him.

As he was leaving, he heard a small voice call out 'Goodnight, grandfather.'

'Goodnight, Meledran.'