Chronicles of Wildwood - Chapter 2

The sun slowly began to creep over the mountains in the distance; the smell of fresh sweet rolls being baked began to fill the air. Mary Boppins the town’s baker was always up with sun to ready her morning goods as her son Yannos was getting his wagon ready for his morning deliveries. Yannos was twelve years old now and quite mature for his age. He had taken over his father’s responsibilities two years ago when his father died suddenly, stricken with a deadly illness. With his first load ready Yannos picked up cart and headed off into the crisp thin air of this cool morning as he pushed forward into town. Yannos brought his cart to a stop in front of the Truehammer home just as the master of the house himself was headed out, “Allo, G’mornin’ to ya’ Mace. I brought ya’ some fresh breads.”
“Good morning to you my young friend. Just bring them to the house; Willem is around so he will take them. Unfortunately I have to take leave now. Take care and say hello to your mother for me. Thanks.”

With that said Mace headed off to the Talbrin ranch to return Stormbringer, and fetch his riding horse in return. Stormbringer was a special horse, not one meant for casually riding about town. Mace preferred to let him enjoy his retirement as well after all he earned it, he earned his turn to be out at the pasture. As he approached the ranch he headed around back to the stables. Preferring not to have to wake his friend up quite this early he began to stable the horse himself. Suddenly a chill ran down his spine, Mace stood up and slowly began to turn around, catching that all too familiar glint of steel out of the corner of his eye. “We don’t take too kindly to horse thieves round’ here mister, as a matter of fact we usual just run em’ through and call it justice.” Knowing the voice all to well Mace began to relax as he turned to face his stalker.
“Talbrin you old son of a bitch! What dragged you outa’ bed this early.”
“Not even I have enough horses to drag me out of bed this early.” His friend stated plainly as he lowered his crossbow with one hand and patted his stomach with the other. “Despite what some people seem to believe I do still rise with the sun and tend the horses. You know how it is, kids still a bit too young to take up the family business so I’m still working too damn hard.”
“Yes I do understand, I just did not want to bother you and I knew you would not mind if I stable him myself.” Mace said as he turned and led his horse into the stall.
“You know you’re just about the only one that can get away with that.”
Shutting the stall door behind him as he gave Stormbringer another stroke down his mane, Mace looked up to his friend and smiled. “I do understand my friend, by the way I was wondering if you might have a small wagon I could borrow.”
“Certainly, but what would you be needing it for this early? If you don’t mind me asking that is.”
“I will be needing to return the Lady Kiersa to her home. She tended my children last night while I was away.” Mace said knowing that he had just put himself squarely into the fire.
“Well, well, well. The Lady Kiersa you say?” Talbrin said as he walked out of the stables and with a knowing grin looked over to Mace and said “Finally got a lady over to the house and you weren’t even there. Huh, figures.”
A bit embarrassed by his friend’s insinuation Mace reflected upon the thought for a moment. Lady Kiersa was a beautiful woman and quite charming as well…Nonetheless she was recently widowed and Mace was just too busy to worry about such things. So with nothing else said Mace headed home where he found the Lady Kiersa sitting at the table watching as the children played in the living room. Isibin and Kiersa’s son Aelmer were about the same age and played very well together.

“Good morning sir. Your travels went well?” Suddenly feeling a bit self conscious Mace found himself trying not to stare at her or stammer on his words so he just looked down at the table as he took a seat across from her. “Well enough I guess. Too much death though. Bright side of it is there was a survivor. A baby, it had been out there for I don’t know how long.” “A baby?” Kiersa exclaimed. “Yes a baby. Cold and wet, probably hungry, and I’m not too sure about its mind. You know it did not make a sound the entire time I had it.” Mace said as he pulled off a bit of bread and began to drip some honey on it. “IT!” Kiersa replied rather sharply. “Well was the child a boy or a girl? Where is the baby now? So help me If I here the word IT come from your lips again when referring to a child…” slamming her fist down on the table as her words trailed off. Seeing he had already gotten her quite upset, Mace knew he really did not want to answer her last question. “He is with the sisters…” but before he could finish his sentence Kiersa exploded “You left him with THEM? Of all your options you left him with them?” she said with great exasperation. “They are the most qualified healers in town. I felt they were the best suited to take care of the child’s needs especially if it was ill or in shock. Besides…” again blasting away before he could finish his sentence Kiersa stood up looking at him and simply said, “Yes I suppose they were, that is if they don’t eat him first. I understand how you would not want to bring the child to someone you would trust your own children with.” That being said she stomped her feet firmly in place, her green eyes piercing Mace with anger before and began to gather her belongings as she prepared to leave.

There was nothing else to be said on the way home. Mace understood the Kiersa held the sisters responsible for Dyron’s death. Dyron, Kiersa’s husband, had been bringing back a load of spices from the southern ports but as he made his way into the mountainous region around Chance he was besieged by bandits. Somehow he had fought off them, able to make his way back towards Chance again. His wagon was found just outside of Chance, Dyron just slumped over the seat with the horse reigns still in his hands. He was immediately brought to the sisters whereupon they pronounced him dead. Kiersa knew they could have saved them if they had wanted to. They chose not to. She knew they chose not to. As for Mace he did feel the same way. Could they have done something for him? Who knows Mace knew to never doubt the abilities of those women, however if there was one thing Mace knew it was death. He knew Dyron was dead, in his mind that was not even a question. It was amazing in Mace’s mind that Dyron was able to get the wagon and the spices it carried back to Chance. He knew Dyron understood the risks, so he could not hold the sisters responsible. Still Kiersa held the sisters responsible for not saving him when they could. While Mace did not agree he knew there would probably never be any room to question it. After all the Sisters Grim made sure enough to leave doubt
In everyone’s mind. Mace just assumed that they enjoyed having an edge of fear over the people they dealt with.

After alienating the Lady Kiersa for the day Mace decided to make his way over to the apothecary shop and look in on the boy he had left with the sisters. Drawing up to the front of the store Mace dismounted and tethered his horse to the pole that sat rather ominously by itself in the middle of the path that led to the doorway. Never quite sure, Mace wondered how the sisters seemed to always know whenever anyone came within the distance from the pole to the house. They knew whomever it was whether or not they had heard or seen the person. Regardless Mace was here to retrieve the child he had saved if it was healthy enough.

As he began up the steps Epiphany opened the door and stepped out onto the porch, smiling as she cradled the young bot in her arms.
“Good morning Mace, I was expecting you a bit earlier. Now that you’re here I believe you would like to know how the child is doing, right?”
“Yes my lady, the child is he well?”
“The boy is quite resilient, however he has had to withstand a considerable ordeal.” Epiphany stated with out taking her eyes off of Mace.
Feeling her eyes press him Mace adamantly stood there staring back at her.
“We wont need to be worrying about that though, I will provide a safe home and tend to his needs now. So is he well enough to leave now or shall I come back tomorrow?”
Epiphany looked at him rather amused and paused for a moment to ponder this Mace fellow before she gently caressed the boy’s head and said “Well rest assured you shan’t have to worry about it, we will provide a safe and nurturing home for the child. He is well taken care of.”
“That may be my lady however we can not expect you and your sister to take in every orphaned child we find. I feel it would be better if the boy came to live with my family. Besides…” But before he could finish sentence Epiphany had stepped forward to the top of the stair and stood there looking down at him. She calmly but firmly pointed out the obvious “You are a very busy man are not? You are the only weapon smith in this region are you not? You are also the closest thing to a town guard that these people have are you not? As well as you are trying to raise two small children by yourself are you not?”
Mace knew he had just been answered and he did not like it. Trying to control his response Mace looked up at the old lady who now was standing with a different posture, more sure, more menacing. “Yes this all true however I will have my eldest son to help around the house and…” Again sharply interrupting him Epiphany told him “I am not talking of taking every stray that falls your way. I am only talking of taking this one into our home.” But before Mace could respond another voice came resonating out of the back “ The boy WILL stay with us. That’s it that’s final. I will not argue this point with you Mace, the boy stays with us! You have enough difficulties with out adding any more.” With that being said Trinity, Epiphany’s sister came out of the building holding a small bundle of plants in her hand. The blood began to boil. In Mace as he watched these two rude and disrespectful ladies stand before him giving him orders.
“Understand this, I am no ones errand boy and I am not one who is going to be intimidated by the likes of you!” Mace straightened up with his broad shoulders now squared two them with his intense eyes trying to burn through them. “That child is under my protection, and whom so ever cares for him will answer to me. When I check in on him you had better damn well make sure he is in perfect health.” Not wanting to continue the conversation any longer or to be interrupted again Mace just turned and walked out to his horse where he mounted it and headed off towards his home.

“Hey, at least one of them finally had the manhood to talk back a little. I wonder what he be like if he had less of those damn morals of his to deal with.” Trinity told her sister as she hovered over a cauldron. “You know you really are the bad one.” She added when she looked up and saw her sister picking up the baby.
“I suppose so,” Epiphany said as she brought the baby over to Trinity. “Well what should we name the young man? He can’t go by 'boy' for the rest of his life can he?”
Trinity stopped to ponder this for a moment before she looked up at her sister and said, “You know I had not even thought about it, but I suppose we should name him huh.”
Epiphany thought a moment and pronounced “We shall call him Lucious. I think that it’s a fine name.” Trinity just rolled her eyes ash she walked around the cauldron to her sister and the boy. “You know that he will have more than his fair share of obstacles to overcome, why would we need to add another? Lucious? That’s just silly!”
“Well how about Percivil then, the name of a mighty champion.”
“Yes, a champion of a jousting tournament who is going to have tea with the royal court of Liftaya perhaps, but not the name for this one.” Replied Trinity to her sister as she pulled back the baby’s shirt and began to rub an orange colored salve onto his chest. She then looked at her sister again and said “Shenzi.”
“Shenzi?”
“Yes Shenzi. Shenzi shall be his name from this day forward.”
“Well I suppose it could be, but… Well I guess Shenzi is a good name. From this day on then.” Smiling the two walked with the baby back into the living room and sat by the fire wondering when and how this little boy would change the world.

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The Chronicles of Wildwood - Chapter 1

The Ga-Shur Mountains were thick with the dark clouds of winter, the twisted peaks jutting out of the clouds like a demons horns. Towering above the valley below as if some hideous monster about to descend, the Gar-Shur stood as an almost impenetrable gate sealing off the Nippuran valley from the rest of the world. To the few souls fortunate enough to survive the trek, they found the Nippuran valley to be both a blessing and a curse. Legends were told of an enchanted valley, with fertile soil, and crystal waters, that would prove to be the perfect land for settling. Yet nothing comes without a price, for it was at least four months to the nearest settlement, and at least two of those months meant and arduous trek through the mountains. However the promise of a new life was enough for a few brave souls to venture from home and trek across the countryside facing the perils of the Gar-Shur.

Beneath the watchful eyes of the Ga-Shur Mountain the Nippuran valley had given birth to a small village. It was in this village of wayward drifters, the village named Chance, that the course of the world would eventually change.

He had seen to much killing in his years of service to the Kings of Paxion, his weathered face could not reveal the pain his heart felt. With his last battle behind him, he accepted the Kings honor for bravery, the Golden Lion Crest before telling him that he could not return to his majesties service. His wife had just given birth to their second child, and she begged for a life of peace for their children, a life in which they would know their father, and not fear for his death. As they loaded the wagon with their belongings, he looked back to the city he had called home for so many years and smiled; at peace with himself he tied a silk string around his sword a symbolic ending to his illustrious military career. The tails seemed far fetched as they rolled from tongue of Lourdan Sylvaan, self proclaimed prince of the minstrels; An enchanted valley which had hosted generations of Taba’Ien, the mystics from the Era of Light, it had long since been abandoned. A millennium had past since its last inhabitants were seen riding on the wings of flame

A well proportioned man in his late thirties Mace Truehammer was the local weapons smith, a retired soldier enjoying his new life. He had served during the Decade of Destruction, but was now quite content tucked away in this hidden valley, caring for his family far away from the battlefields.

It was after his youngest son Isibin was born that he decided to put down his swords and start a new life with his wife and children far from the battlefield, in a small mountain community called Chance. During their trek he saw wife fall ill, dying just days before they had reached their new home. Mace learned to adjust because he now had two small children to raise in a new town, where he was not only the new weapon smith he was the only weapon smith in the region. As a retired soldier he was also one of the only persons there who had any real weapons or training, so he also assumed the role of the closest thing to a town guard that Chance had.

It was just before supper and Mace was preparing the food while his eldest son Willem set the table while his brother Isibin was sitting quietly on the counter watching their father. The weather was getting worse with winter coming. Cold winds came rolling down from the northern mountains; but on this particular evening the winds were coming in rather forcefully as the beginnings of a storm came sweeping through the small town.

As the family began to sit at the table, a strong wind rolled up to the house making a horrible howling sound as it smashed against the shudders. Young Isibin went scurrying over to cling onto his father’s arm seeking protection from the monsters of the night. Mace took Isibin into his arms and comforted him, as he looked across the table to Willem and gave him a warm smile letting him know everything was all right, as he stood up to check the windows. Securing the windows from the pounding wind and increasing rain, Mace turned back to the table and began to imitate monster creeping up to the food. As the father-monster came lurching towards the table Isibin stumbled across the table and thrust his spoon towards this oncoming monster, and with that mighty blow he slew the mighty monster as Mace dropped heavily to the floor, all to the amusement of Willem. Dusting off his clothe with a smile on his face and light laugh still coming forth Mace sat back down to the table, resting his youngest son on his lap so he could feed him. The fire was raging, producing more than enough heat to warm the house, but as Mace began to feed Isibin the hair on the back of his neck began to stand on end. With a quick glance Mace surveyed his surroundings. Assured everything was as it should be Mace returned began feeding his son again noting that his eldest son had not noticed his apprehension. But it was still there, that cold, uncomfortable feeling of concern, something was not right.

After the food was long gone, and the warm milk long since cooled, the fire settled into a small pile of glowing embers as Mace made sure that Willem and Isibin were safely secured in their bed. The air seemed suddenly cold and the hair on the back of his neck began to stand on end. In one fluid movement Mace snatched his sword from the and into his hand, unsheathing it as he threw open the door leveling the sword at the person before him. As the door swung open lighting flashed and thunder roared the fading light from within began to reach outwards towards the door revealing the shadow standing before him. With the sword still leveled at its heart the shadowy figure stepped forwards without hesitation until the sword pressed against their cloak and the light from within revealed who it was.

“Witch!” Mace exclaimed as he took a deep breath and eased his sword to his side while watching the old lady before him. Her hair was drenched and water was streaming down her face, Trinity, the twin sister of Epiphany stood before him with a crooked little grin on her face. Mace was not one to fall in for local superstitions, so he regretted calling her a witch, however it was heavily suspected that the “Sisters Grim” as they had been called, were far more than the local apothecaries.

“What brings you out in this weather…my lady?” Mace asked hesitantly, not knowing exactly how she would interpret the ‘my lady’. “Why you do master swordsman.” She replied with a sparkle in her eye that made Mace a bit uneasy. “What can I do for you?” he asked not quite sure if he really wanted her to answer. Nonetheless he stepped back to make way for her to enter his home, out of the rain. Instead she stood there in his doorway, rain beating against her, with her eyes transfixed on him, almost as if she could see into his soul. “You my lord are the town guard as it were are you not?” she asked with mock sincerity. “By default yes, I am so again I ask what can I do for you?” Mace answered back as he locked eyes with her, making clear the fact he was one who would not be intimidated by her.
“Trolls!”
“Trolls here?” Mace queried with some concern as his knuckles turned white around the hilt of his sword. “Not exactly. It has come to my attention that a small caravan in the northern pass has been ambushed by trolls.” He looked at her wanting to know how exactly it had come to her attention in the middle of the night, that a caravan had been attacked over twenty miles away. Mace held his questions because he had learned long ago that there were some questions best left unanswered.
“I fear there my be a survivor in need of help.” She continued.
“Very well then I shall ready myself now, however…”
Knowing exactly what he would say before he said it, Trinity leveled a solemn look at him and interrupted him mid breath. “I understand good sir. That is why I have already summoned the Lady Kirsa to watch over you children in your absence. She is on her way as we speak.” With that she turned away not waiting for a response and headed down the path back into town with a speed and deftness the belied her age.

Once again Mace Truehammer found himself arming up and marching off into the night, chasing trolls and whatever else may be lurking in the shadows. This is not what he had envisioned when he retired from the armies of Paxion; nonetheless Mace made his way to the ranch of Talbrin, the local horse breeder. Regrettably he found himself at the door of his old friend having to wake him in the middle of the night.

Moments after Mace had wrapped on the front door Talbrin appeared at the window looking out with a puzzled look as he rubbed the sleep out of his eye. As the door opened Mace looked thoughtfully at his old friend. Once an enemy fighting against him in the armies of Mooria, Talbrin had long since joined forces and fought alongside of Mace. Knowing that these hours were not good for his friend, being quite a few years older and over one and a half his size, Mace decided to make the visit a short one.

“Talbrin my old friend, I apologize for waking you, however I find myself having to go forth into the mountains, so I will be needing Stormbringer.”
Talbrin just looked at him for a minute with a concerned look on his face.
“The mountains? At this time? What’s going on Mace?” more than a bit curious as to why he would need a war horse in the middle of the night he felt he had to ask.
“Trinity has called upon me, so…” Mace’s words just trailed off as Talbrin just held up his hand to silence any further explanation, knowing the fewer details of the Sisters Grim he knew, the happier he was. Talbrin led him to the back of the stables, where in the last stall, which was actually the size of two, was a magnificent black horse which stood a head taller than any of the other horses. A well trained war horse that had been tested many times over by Mace during the time of “Four Wars”, like Mace was getting a on in years and looking forward to his retirement.

“Stormbringer...” Mace said rather thoughtfully as he came forward and petted the horse on its head “It’s been a while but I need you again my old friend.”While no longer the wild young horse he used to be, Stormbringer was still unquestionably the finest horse in the whole region, always sought after to sire a new generation. With a foot in the stirrups Mace mounted the horse as if he and the horse were one. Needing to say nothing else Mace just nodded at Talbrin who returned the acknowledgement with a smile, thinking to himself that it was sad his old friend was armored up again and riding off into the night to fight what evils he did not know.

“That damn wit…” cutting his words short Mace could not help but wonder if somehow Trinity or her sister could hear him even though he had just been mumbling to himself. Tucking his chin down to help against the downpour, Mace pulled his cloak and hood tighter as he pressed onwards. The Northern Pass was a good distance off in the daylight but by night it was even longer. Trudging through the rain and mud he steadily pushed forward to the mountains and his destination.

Shadow jumped from place to place as they raced upon the walls of the pass, as the moonlight cast its reflection against the tiny crystals that littered the mountain walls. Rain turned to drizzle as Mace pulled back his hood and surveyed his surroundings. With one well practiced movement, Mace brought forth his sword and placed it upon his lap with such grace that it did not make a sound as it left its scabbard. Years of military training told him to relax, always be aware, but keep the body relaxed. Mace began to think of the many different marching songs that he once knew to help keep him relaxed.

Quietly Mace began to sing an old song, just loud enough for him to hear, “Shield of valor, sword of might, don’t betray thy faithful knight… He’s tried and true his pride runs through, the army of light the army of might…” the words trailed off as he rounded a corner and came into a small clearing, whereupon he could now see the carnage of what the trolls had done.

There were about six or seven wagons in all, at least there were the pieces of six or seven wagons strewn about, however the actual remains of the caravan were almost completely destroyed. As he slowly rode into the encampment, he realized it was more of a graveyard now than anything else. The scent of death was sill lingering in the air; the dead littered the ground beneath him. He dismounted so he could do a more proper investigation. Perhaps forty or fifty people in all, although it was more of an educated guess because several bodies had been dismembered and or eviscerated. These people were no more than a bunch of common folk who were probably heading to Chance to start anew. Wading through the blood and body parts brought back a myriad of memories of the horrors of war. He had long ago become immune to the smell of blood and rotting flesh, it was the thought of innocent women and children killed by these filthy monsters. All he could do was stand there looking blankly at this field of dead, as a small tear began to roll down his cheek.

As he stared at the stars something caught his ear. Not quite sure what exactly it was Mace froze in his position and began to focus on it. Many years of training had taught him to be able to filter through the sounds and discern what he was listening for. It was breathing. Soft and perhaps a bit muffled, but it was unmistakably breathing. Slowly circling the camp as he listened, Mace abruptly stopped, cocked his head and slowly went to one knee. Staring directly in front of him he could see something propped up under a broken wagon wheel that lay against the remains of the wagon. As he cautiously approached, Mace thought to himself ‘who could have possibly survived this carnage, and how?’ He moved the wheel to the side and looked closer. It was a little boy, no more than a year or so old, wrapped in a jumbled mess of muddy blankets, covered in a mixture of blood and mud, and wet from head to toe. There was something wrong though, something different. Mace had reached in and lifted the boy out and wrapped him in his cloak before he figured out what was so different. After all that had happened. The killings, being left in the cold and dark for who knows how long, and being wet and hungry, this boy was not crying, he was not making any noticeable sound save a very soft exhaling. He gently wiped the boy’s face clean and smiled at him knowing there was something special about this boy, he was a survivor. Holding the child tightly he mounted Stormbringer with one well-rehearsed move then placed the child upon his lap and began the ride home.

Afraid the young boy was in shock and possibly ill after being exposed to the elements for some time Mace decided to bring the boy to Trinity and her sister Epiphany since they were the most qualified to care for the weak and sick. As he arrived at the front of their home and began up the pathway Epiphany opened the door before he even reached it. With a smile and outstretched hands she greeted the old soldier.
“Welcome back Mace, we have been expecting you.” Again wanting to know how the hell she or her sister were expecting him as he did not know himself when he would be returning, Mace decided not to ask, unsure if he really wanted the answer.
“My lady, this child is the only survivor of the troll attack.”
“I know.” She replied with a smile.
“I fear he may be ill or in shock, he was exposed the weather and has not made a sound since I found him.” he said as he handed over the boy to her.
“I know.” she said again as she reached out for the child and pulled in into her arms cradling it. “We shall take it from here. Thank you, you can go.” That being said she turned around and began to go into her home. That show of disrespect was the final straw as Mace took a stride up the stairs to the home directly behind her. “Mace Truehammer is no ones errand boy and I will not be treated as such! You will hear me out until I have said what I have to say.” Not one to be dismissed by any one Mace proceeded “You will be allowed to care for the child for now, however I will be back in the morning to check on him. Understand this clearly, this child is under my protection so I care not for the idle speculation of your witchery, if anything happens to him you shall answer to me.”
“I know.” She replied as she stared into his eyes and smiled before turning back into the house and disappearing behind the door.