In which our hero is smuggled out of Brightbay castle amongst murder and mayhem.
“The bards story was born of darkness, of blood, and the silence of the halls.” -- Histories of the Twilight of Heroes, Kantarath Oakensound
The moon was finally fully dark and the night many had been waiting for had finally arrived. Plans had been laid over many months to ensure the outcome Kielwerk intended - the final seizure of title from his half brother. The position of a Duke was one closely coveted amongst the more ambitious lords of Lorna as they sought power, prestige, and most importantly status.
And so it had arrived. All the pieces Kielwerk had painstakingly arranged, dark alliances and agreements, assassins, agents and spies, all in place to present a night of blades.
The deal had seemed so simple when Galtae signed up for it. Simply make sure the powder had been added to the guard’s ale. It seemed innocent enough, though the gold that was offered ahead of time likely should have given him pause. Yet here he was, soon to be half a years labour richer, and he stepped forth from the kitchen toward the northern guard post. As he walked through the halls of white stone, he put down his nervousness to his conscious.
The walk of course was uneventful. Galtae arrived at the northern post exactly as intended. As he heard the voices of the guards inside, he hesitated. It was the last moment to turn back, though he’d been warned the consequences if he did so would be dire. So, thinking of his aunt, the medicine she needed that only the clerics could provide, he stepped up, smiled and crossed the inner threshold.
‘Galtae, lad, good to see you’ Norick said with a grin in his voice. ‘And you Norick, and you. Some warmed ale for a cold night’. Galtae started to move amongst the guards, offering the pitchers, like he had every night over the last few months since joining the Duke’s kitchens.
As the guards smiled at him, and drunk the doctored ale, it seemed to Galtae that the shadows in the room gathered about. Even the typically bright and reflective white stone that made up the castle seemed to dim a little. Surely just a trick of the light amongst the everburning torches present in the room.
‘It’s well done lad in any case. We always appreciate it, at least, outside the height of summer.’ continued Norick. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t make that mistake again, no matter what Brewmaster McAntor insists.’ Galtae smiled, ‘Enjoy your night and may the music play long’ ‘May the music play long’ echoed the guardsman - even if one or two grimaced. New men most likely not yet familiar with the Brightbay turn of phrase.
As Galtae left the space he had a slight sinking feeling, though it didn’t stop him hurrying down the halls to take shelter in the cellars as instructed.
The man observing the northern gate breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t sure if the kitchen hand they’d bought would stay bought, and while the work of the evening was going ahead regardless life is always easier when things go to plan. It was clear from the sudden stillness at the guard post that the powder had taken effect, while it cost ten times what was handed to the kitchen hand - a loose end to be later resolved - it would help conserve his forces this evening.
‘Jalton, Heilden, start the force moving forward. Malcan - signal the boats.’ and with that the true assault was underway. There was a a rattle of blades against armour, muted by cloaks as dozens began to quietly move forward under the howl of the bayside wind.
‘Red sparks on the northern ridge’ a lookout cried down to his captain below. ‘The signal lads, set to the oars’ boomed a voice of command. ‘And take good soundings’ the pilot’s voice followed, ‘we’re all dead men if we hit the shoals’, and the Uthan raiders of the Blackmane Mercenary company were moving to strangle the hopes of any who sought to flee via the sea caves.
As the various forces moved against him, Qantaras Reptico was simply enjoying the end of a typical autumn’s evening with his wife. They had retired to his study, a newly opened bottle of wine breathing on the sideboard, with thick, velvet curtains pulled over the balcony door. In this opulence he moved back towards his wife, holding two glasses and smiled at his good fortune. Fortune that was soon to turn.
Jalton’s men were the first to take the gate, and as expected the guard post had been rendered silent - the drugged ale doing the work of knocking out the men of the watch. The first men through quickly moved to the inner doors, with those following behind expertly binding and gagging the guardsmen. No need to take chances after all. As more men followed they began fanning out, then sounds of their boots on the stone beginning to ring out through the halls as they followed the plan drilled into them each day over recent weeks.
They methodically moved through the castle, barring rooms with spikes, silencing servants with threats. Here and there they were challenged, but it was rare and most men valued their lives more than taking on a six man team that moved with deadly efficiency.
It was only once they reached the first barracks that the alarm was raised and the true skirmish began, too late to change the outcome.
Heilden’s men entered the room with a different and darker objective. Their role was to eliminate the Duke himself, along with his wife and their infant son. A smaller group, including a mage and a cleric amongst several other hardened warriors, and Heilden himself. A grim knight seeking to strengthen his fortunes, the grip of his spiked gauntlet tightening about the handle of his flail, savouring its weight as he move through the halls a few steps behind his lead men.
They quickly began moving up through the levels and chambers of the castle. As they strode through halls the darkness seemed to become somehow heavier, the shadows deepened and an ill feeling suffused the air. When they reached the third level, a silence quietened the group as the cleric finished his spell.
Duke Reptico suddenly started, and glanced towards the door. He looked towards his wife, raising a hand for silence. She stilled, and he listened a moment longer. There it was, that discordant note, the movement of chain familiar from battlefield camps rather than family halls, vanished as if it had never been.
‘My love,’ he began while smoothly moving towards the seemingly ancient rapier displayed on the wall opposite the fireplace. ‘It seems that the truth of rumour is being realised. You must save our son, while I slow them here.’ He then reached forward, and the wave of his hand and a quiet murmur unlocked the cabinet in front of him. As he seized the rapier, he felt himself turned by an insistent grip, drawn forward into a final kiss, before his wife dashed to the window, shifted the drapes aside, opened the shutters to begin moving along a ledge almost too small to see.
Then, beginning the tune of shanty he turned around, and the crackle of the fireplace was suddenly silenced as the door was thrown open without a sound.
Qantaras smirked to himself as the silence crept forward into the room. It was always the same, his enemies assumed that without music he would be powerless, never considering the graves of those that had also had that thought. His wife had caught the first few bars of a sea shanty as she had stepped across the sill, and that energy would bring him strength for at least the opening blows. He shifted his shoulders and his stance, and prepared as his half brother’s soldier appeared from the darkness.
Heilden was first through the door, and seeing him the Duke barred his teeth and moved forward to buy as much time as possible. Qantaras knew Kielwerk. There was no way his half brother would leave this event to chance, or a lackey he had less than complete confidence in. Further, he knew the role he was cast in at this moment, that of a breakwater, to limit the forces coming towards his family. A rapier was a poor choice against a flail, so the Duke quickly moved forward to strike, the silence masking the timing of his steps as he began by seeking to get inside his opponent’s reach.
Heilden was not expecting an attack so soon, and suddenly regretted that he hadn’t had an opportunity to see Qantaras in a dual before. While tales of the Duke’s skill with a blade in his younger days were common in Brightbay, Heilden had put them down to sycophancy and doubted they amounted to much without the support of bardic magic to strengthen his arm. His overconfidence almost cost him his throat, as he felt the rapier scrape and scratch the armour of his gorget, and he was grateful for the breastplate and helmet Keilwerk had insisted he wear beyond his normal chainmail. Before Qantaras could shift to strike again, he quickly angled his shield in front of him, forcing the next blow down and to the left.
Heilden’s flail then began to swing around, shifting in a way that was surely too much for Qantaras to anticipate. Yet somehow, he did. Feeling his rapier skid away on the shield, he opened his stance and slide a half step back and momentarily dropped his blade, keeping his balance as the prongs flew by.
This opened the opportunity for another exchange, this time with Qantaras seeking to throw off Heilden’s balance by seeking to strike at the white’s of his eyes barely visible in the depths of his helm. Heilden’s response was to simply trust in his armour and use his bulk and his shield to slam into Qantaras, clearing space around the door and forcing their fight to the centre of the comfortably appointed room. An overarm blow with the flail skidded across the stone ceiling, chipping away a cloud of dust, but losing momentum as it came down and Qantaras deftly slipped aside once more.
These initial blows exchanged, Qantaras took stock of the men-at-arms moving into the room, and out from behind Heilden to flank him. While this wasn’t the first time he’d been outnumbered it had definitely been some time since he couldn’t call on his magic to equalise the situation. He frowned. It was going to take a lot more than some fancy footwork to make it through this fight. He began backing up rapidly towards the open window behind him, grabbing and throwing the wine bottle towards the aggressors in some effort to distract them before he was fully surrounded.
It was then, feeling a blade dig into his shoulder that he realised it was already too late. As the short-sword struck home a heretofore invisibly cloaked figure was revealed. Heilden took this moment to further press the advantage of the painful stab, landing a solid blow with his flail against Qantaras’s upper chest. Staggared Qantaras fell to his knees, at this point simply hoping he’d bought his wife and child enough time to escape this coup. As darkness closed over him, he made use of the last card he had available and slipped a vile from a pouch at his side...
The explosion could be seen from well outside the castle, a fiery gouge from the high tower above. Although the roar of flames was muted at this distance, Kielwerk remained resolute. He’d made his plans and set them in motion. Now the only choice was to see them through.
Heilden was thrown back by the blast, somewhat protected by his heavy armour. Many of those around him were not so lucky, including the cloaked figure that had provided the sorely needed distraction. Picking himself up, he knew it was his own life at stake has he ensured that Qantaras Reptico was truly dead. Slipping the ducal signet ring from a lifeless finger, he left the scene of devastation behind him and began the journey back into the castle to see how others in this night’s battle were faring.
Adelina moved along the ledge - why it existed on this castle or otherwise slippery pure white stone no one could surmise. Then again the castle had been here since the age of the Great Kingdom and no doubt would last far beyond the Dukedom of family Reptico. She simply thanked Pelor that tonight at least she had a path to her son.
It had been many years since she and Qantaras would challenge their various guardians to keep them apart in the walls of this castle. Yet even now her feet still knew the path. And there it was, the alcove that led the ladder that should never have existed. As she crossed the threshold and descended into the hidden paths of the castle, she didn’t even notice, for the first time, the living stone above somehow safeguarding her passage and closing the path behind her.
One rung after another, deeper and deeper down she travelled, finally reaching that point of transition, where the sharp white stone began to meld into the hard rock of the cliff. There she paused and looked at the dark passage ahead. She reached to her hand, and with a deft twist of her fingers the dark sapphire on her finger began to glow with a pale blue light. With that she hurried along the passage to the underground storage rooms ahead.
Stepping out into the room filled with barrels, boxes and sacks Adelina took a deep breath of the cool air filled with the scents of raw produce. She immediately moved to the door, then shrouding the light of her ring listened for a moment. There was no sound beyond the threshold, so she eased open the door and stepped into the corridor, changing directions again and beginning to to move through the servants passages to the room of her child. With a slight chill running down her spine she resisted the urge to move at anything more than a rapid walking pace, knowing that should she trip in the dark it would only draw undue attention. It wasn’t far now so she needed to be certain she didn’t run into trouble so close to her goal.
She hurried her steps as much as she dared, and although there was some turmoil in the background, there were fewer screams echoing through the corridors than she feared. Then, her heart racing from the intensity of the moment, she was there outside of the room.
She reached forward and quietly opened the door, to be met with – what in any other circumstances would be – an idyllic moment. A sleeping baby, his nurse dozing in the rocking chair, and lamp lit low, providing barely an ember of a glow in the night. This image was soon to be disturbed, and as the nurse began to look up at the sudden arrival with a look of concern, after all there was no need to wake the baby, at the look on her mistress’s face, a chastisement died on her lips.
‘We must get him out of here, and get him to safety.’ With that Adelina started to gather some blankets together to swaddle the baby. After shaking off her confusion the nurse gaped for a moment, and then started to gather some of the softened vegetables and other food for the baby into a basket.
After a few moments their preparations were complete, Adeline took a deep breath, threw the few items in a sling made of blankets over her back and slowly lifted the baby and passed him to the nurse.
’Now remember, we need to go deep within and quietly through the catacombs below. If we get separated make for the Manticore’s Spine Tavern, and if I’m not there within an hour ask for Iltalus to get you and the babe to Pax Lorna.’ and with that they headed into the darkness.
The catacombs, were stern in their own way. It was rare for Qantaras or Adeline to venture beyond those interred on the first level, and this night Adeline was reminded why. The strange hush, the vague sense of disquiet as the white stone passed to the harsher granite as they ventured deeper, the mottled stone seeming to shift in the mild shadows of pale blue light around them, the sapphire continuing to guide their way.
The Lady, nurse and babe worked to lose themselves amongst the passages. Adeline and Qantaras had always prided themselves on knowing the secret ways of this fortress, and the tunnels beneath were no exception. While in their younger days they pretended at adventures, the paths and passages remained strongly in Adeline’s memories, if only because tonight they would be the only escape from their pursuers.
The minutes passed, and the group shuffled quietly along, the loudest sound the mewls of the baby as they traced deeper, and deeper, until finally they reached the cavern that Adeline had sought. This space was a true secret. One which was known to only those who had spent their lives within Brightbay castle. It was a surprisingly large cavern, and sharply defined, as if by some form of smooth expansion of power, or a vast underground pool which had somehow been drained.
The air in the cavern was surprisingly fresh, especially after the earthy smells of the tunnels that had preceded their entry. Adeline took a moment to get her bearings, the light from her ring rapidly fading into the darkness surrounding them. She took a deep breath, then raised her hand to feel for the movement of air that she knew would take them to the next stage of their escape.
A deft twist of the jewel on her ring snuffed the light, and lady and nurse paused to let their eyes adjust before taking the final turns to the small underground stream that made its way to the river in the cliffs below the castle. Adeline was hoping that Kielwerk would only have left a minimal guard at this exit given the challenges of reaching it, and knowing that Qantaras would inevitably be caught up in a rearguard action. As they made their way out into the starlight, shrouded in the shadows of the rocks she paused and listened carefully. There it was, ever so softly, the slight scuff steel on leather, the armour of the mercenaries alerting her keen hearing. She lent close to her companion.
‘I will need to lead them away,’ she whispered. ‘I doubt I’ll be able to join you, we shall find each other in the future if we can. For now, set out for Brightbay and work with Iltalus to get the child to safety. The future of the city depends upon it.’
With that she took a moment to embrace her babe, then returning him to the nurse, moved forward to take this next act to protect her child and her family. To confront the small squad of soldiers with little more than her speed, her wit, and the small dagger she kept at her side.
The nurse listened to the calls and noise ahead, the scramble of men scattering and searching amongst rocks, torches lit and seeming to flit away as fireflies up the beach, away from Brightbay.
The nurse knew her duty and quickly moved amongst the rocks, praying the babes gentle mewls would not shift to wails as she sought the bottom of the trail that would ultimately lead up and along the rock face to safety. She could only hope that safety would await under the sign of the Manticore’s Spine.