12th month, 24th day, 967

  Guy

  I had the strangest dream.

  I beheld a white lion with a majestic silver mane, regal and proud, surveying a lush meadow. In the center of the meadow were two birds separated by a road - a swan on the left, and a crane on the right. The lion walked westward down this dirt pathway and stopped to consider each bird briefly before he turned left to lay beside the swan. The mighty king gave a tremendous yawn and drifted off into a deep slumber.

  The sun set, and rose. The lion didn’t move, but a shield appeared upon its back and a helm upon his brow. The sun set again, and just as the new day dawned there came a symphony of piercing howls from somewhere in the distance. The lion rose quickly and took a protective posture before the swan as a pack of black wolves with eyes like hot coals flooded the meadow and attacked. After a fierce battle the lion triumphed over the wolves - their bodies littered the ground.

  Strange indeed, bereft of reason as dreams often are - for surely a pack of hungry wolves would have preferred an undefended target. When I awoke the next morning I was at a loss for what to make of it. I thought perhaps not to dwell upon it - for I had other matters that required my attention. Indeed, the time had come for us to get underway. My considerably weighty armor was already loaded into the storage compartment of Victor’s steel chariot along with the rest of my personal gear.

  Malcolm and Rayna were already waiting in the common area when I got there. Back during our expedition to the dungeon of that awful Gaian wizard, the poet had shown tremendous valor for a man possessed of so little muscle; to say nothing of the way he expertly handled every trap we encountered.

  “Ah, good morning Sir Guy,” Malcolm said with a bow.

  I gave my usual fist to sternum salute, “Well met. Where are the others?”

  Rayna said, “Princess Sylfaena is out with Lady Nenewyn to pick up some supplies; potions, spell components, that sort of thing. As for Victor and Princess Illiana-”

  As though by some divine providence I heard a loud trumpetting noise from the outside. I am not one to say “speak of the devils”, but this might well have been a splendid occasion for it. When we left the inn, I saw that Victor and Princess Illiana were standing beside the steel chariot. Lord Spymaster Hanzorian and his subordinate, a charming wood elf maiden, were also there. I wonder what machinations Victor and the Shadowhawks were plotting behind the scenes? No matter - all is well if I can find some evil foe to fell, some innocents to protect.

  It didn’t take long for the Third Princess and the High Court Wizard herself to appear - in a flash and without much flair. Princess Illiana embraced the two of them; ah she had some dark circles under her eyes, she must have been up rather late.

  “The birth went well,” said she, “Juliette delivered a healthy baby wolf-ears boy just over an hour ago - little Maeon.”

  Victor said, “Another reminder of what we’re fightin’ for. We ready to hit the road?”

  She wiped her eyes, wiped her eyes and nodded. “Oh!” She cried, then she turned to face the rest of us and coughed. “I, Illiana Verissa tael Anaura, do hereby surrender my claim to riding shotgun; for I in sooth wish to lay my head upon Sir Victor’s shoulder.”

  Victor took her highness into his arms and she practically melted. Ahh, such a pure love those two share; perhaps one day I shall find a worthy bride myself. But courting some fair damsel was the furthest thing from my mind at this time - nay, I could ill afford to think of romance while such serious matters were at hand. I stroked my chin in consideration. I’d never ridden in the front passenger seat before, therefore…

  “Very well,” I said, confidently, “Then if I may, I would, as you say, call shotgun at this time.”

  Victor turned to Lady Nenewyn, “Are you fixin’ to turn yourself into a cat again?”

  She shook her head, “I have other matters on this front that must needs be attended to. But after that-”

  Lord Hanzorian said, “Lady Nenewyn and I will make our own way to Galin. It will take a long measure of time, or very little time at all depending on what we discover.”

  “I’m sure y’all will have some way of keeping me pos-” he shook his head, “Please update me with that transmission thingy when something new develops.”

  The spymaster only gave a taciturn nod. The engine roared to life, and we were off. I never imagined that I would see so much of Cara kingdom in a single sitting. We quickly passed through Andalon, stopping only to make a delivery, and were intent upon doing the same at Daz Grund - Red Lightning was well-named indeed. For now, we weren’t official members - instead we were taking on quests together as a formal alliance; Rayna was hesitant to disband the White Wolves, for it was our deceased mage who had chosen the name.

  I sighed, “I say, I do hope Selafyn returns to us eventually. For with whom am I to trade barbs if he isn’t around?”

  Malcolm said, smiling wryly, “Any person unfortunate enough to get too close to your mustache is going to get needled - why, I almost mistook it for the ass of an errant porcupine when first I saw it.”

  I laughed, “Which is sharper than a spoony bard such as yourself could ever hope to be!”

  That was much better. I sank into my seat and enjoyed the passing scenery. Once again, as we rode through the Shalnaut Pass south of the Anvilgrund Mountains, my thoughts turned back to last night’s dream. Victor was kind enough to allow me to select from his music collection; hmm, here are, Ride the Lightning, that seems appropriate. This heavy metal of his was somehow exciting and relaxing at the same time. Of course we also made a brief detour to make a delivery to Daz Grund. There was snow everywhere; on the fields, cradled in the boughs of the fir trees, and on every rooftop we passed as we traversed.

  Victor said, “Merry Christmas everyone.”

  Princess Illiana said, “Huh?”

  Victor chuckled, “Oh, seeing the winter wonderland around us and given that it’s the 24th of Decem-” he caught himself “-of the 12th month, which, if my math is right…anyways that’s not what’s important. You see-”

  He went on to explain the cultural significance of the day - the birth of a child to a virgin mother who would be the world’s king. So, the god he reveres once walked the earth in the flesh. St. Luca did the same, for he was also born mortal and ascended to join the ranks of the divines; interesting parallel. Anyroad…Victor went on to explain that this birth had been foretold by prophets known as David and Isaiah centuries in the past.

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  Prophecies…Wait! What if my dream wasn’t a mere dream at all but was in sooth a prophetic vision of some sort? Am I intended to glean a message, to allow what I witnessed as I slumbered guide me as I wake? I may well be overthinking this - after all, I don’t pretend to be nearly righteous enough to warrant a message from St. Luca himself. Though I do aspire to one day become a holy knight, I am content with the gift of martial skill he has chosen to bestow upon me. Still though it gave me pause.

  After descending from the mountains, we crossed the river Shal and entered Arvenia. The climate of this area was a bit less inclined to snow. We passed through the little kingdom with little issue, and took the crossing at Arvenford Town; naturally we drew a great throng of gawkers, but we didn’t have the time to entertain them.

  The duchies of Lusia and Brodan were also of no consequence - we got through those without incident and made our way to Wildbridge: a town so named because of the massive stone bridge constructed by the Gaian Empire long ago being its most prominent feature. Alas, we didn’t have time to sample their cuisine - perhaps on the way back. The Wild River flowed from deep inside the Arabor Wilderland, and its immediate vicinity was a borderline wilderland in and of itself. Ah, the locals call it the River Wild instead.

  Once we crossed the Wild River, the Arabor Plains were spread out before us; I’d heard of them but had never seen them. Victor was mesmerized by his new surroundings - an adventurer through and through. It was a fair bit warmer than the mountains, not a spot of snow to be had on the ground. We drove on for many hours. Every once in a while we would pass a broken castle, a long-ruined town, or some broken piece of siege equipment. The overcast sky made it look even more like the graveyard that it was.

  Malcolm said, “The Former Kingdom of Araboria. That is where we are bound for right now. The closer we get, the more clustered together the ruins shall be. For the most part nature has reclaimed what was once a great realm.”

  Princess Illiana said, “Big brother helped out in that war, too. I wanted to go with him so badly but he said it was too dangerous! It was shortly after the final battle that mother went on her most recent pilgrimage, er-” she giggled, “Shortly for an elf at any rate. But I’m glad he didn’t take me, for he reported afterwards that the land was so devastated that it would have made me sad. So much time has passed, that you might not even realize a war even happened here.”

  Victor said what I feared was on my mind as well: “D’ya reckon the Black Order had a hand in that?”

  But Malcolm said, “Highly doubt it. The Dark Lord of Dreadmoor is a follower of the Steel-Devil; a demon of conquest, war, and tyranny. His style would be at odds with the Supreme-Devil who favored murder and destruction for the sake of it.”

  That put me at ease, the matter seemed to fall away as our conversation moved on to the subject of simple geography.

  “The Arabor wilderlands are far north of us; you’ll occasionally see primal beasts leave their habitats and roam freely throughout the plains.”

  “Hell yeah,” said Victor with an unexpected degree of enthusiasm. “I hope we get to see some on the way.”

  Victor went on to explain that primal beasts, which he called dinosaurs, had been extinct in his former world. Every boy his age had at some point been obsessed with the creatures, known only by what he called a scientific name. Naturally, the subject of scientific names and what he called binomial nomenclature greatly intrigued the third princess and they went on and on.

  As I recalled, the Darklord of Dreadmoor had employed some primal beasts as well - big, unusually ferocious ones with a taste for human flesh. His personal mount, which I believe survived the final conflict and may yet still live, was the worst of them. Of course, had the Darklord come to blows with Prince Valyrian I am certain the outcome would have been far different…but they never met face-to-face.

  Well the conversation moved along, and so did we. Eventually we reached the border of the former kingdom of Araboria and officially passed into the Greenreach area; a merely academic distinction for there wasn’t any particular feature that marked the boundary. We passed by the empty city of Caer Arabor - Castle Arabor loomed high atop the hill, eroded by time and neglect; its faded gray stone snaked with bright green vines.

  Malcolm said, adopting a serious tone, “When the Darklord was driven back to Dreadmoor, he took as many citizens of Caer Araboria with him such as he could - thousands of souls consigned to some foul fate. Slavery being the most likely.”

  In Hylaria, it is said that one of King Valen II’s biggest regrets was not pursuing the Darklord of Dreadmoor to his fortress. At the time he was convinced that the alliance didn’t have nearly the manpower to mount a siege, and of course he feared what sorts of wicked surprises lay in that unpleasant place. It also doesn’t help that nobody actually knows where his stronghold actually is; they’d need to search blindly while braving many dangers. So it was decided to leave the matter up to adventurers - even now, The Darklord has a large bounty on his head but hitherto none have managed to crack his defenses.

  “Well, moving on,” Malcolm continued, “See those peaks up ahead? Those are the Grey Mountains. I recommend we bear right and head north through Erikvale; the other way takes one through Dunbrae - a much less civilized area by all accounts, plus there’s an actual wasteland south of it.”

  Victor nodded, “I saw that on the map. Yeah there don’t seem to be any cities there.”

  Malcolm said. “That’s because no kingdom governs Dunbrae. ‘Tis controlled by a loose confederation of tribes that’s always bickering over some tract of land or other. They build wooden halls, not grandiose palaces or impregnable stone fortresses.”

  Victor said, “Thanks for doin’ all the homework for us. Couldn’t have picked a better guide. All right. So once we go around them mountains, where to next?”

  The bard stroked his chin, “Hmm…well, it’l be dark by the time we reach Erikvale. There are a couple of good places we could stop for the night…let’s see here, Cranehold and Swan’s Crossing. The former is closer and it would be my personal recommendation.”

  I froze. “Sorry, old chap, what did you say?”

  “I said we had a choice between Cranehold, or Swan’s Crossing.”

  A choice between a swan and a crane? By Luca’s Light!

  “Victor!” I ejaculated, “I highly recommend we visit Swan’s Crossing. Moreover, I propose we wait there for a full day, and prepare ourselves for battle upon the very next dawn.”

  “Why so certain?”

  I explained to him the dream that I’d had, and the fact I suspected it might have been a vision from the divines. His reaction was to slow the car down and rub his temple, while uttering something inexplicable.

  “What’s a Nebuchadnezzar, why would it be holy, and…who the short-devil is Batman?”

  “Guy, you ain’t gonna believe me but…I also had a weird dream the other day. There was an eagle who watched a lion and a panther go in different directions, and he chose to follow the lion even though the panther’s path seemed nicer. I assumed I had it because I’d been awake for over twenty-four hours, and the fish I ate in town was kinda sketchy, but…knowing that you, too, had a dream of a lion…”

  Princess Illiana said, “The divines do occasionally send visions to mortals; ‘tis only their chosen, those who have been gifted some of their holy power, who receive more direct revelations."

  I said, “Indeed. Though each of the divines operates differently. But, Victor you didn’t answer my question: what is a Nebu-botherall?”

  “The name of an old king. Had a prophetic dream. It’s a long story but,” he pointed to the compartment in front of me, “You’re more than welcome to read my copy of the holy scriptures if you’d like. But, er, you might wanna wait until we’re stopped since reading while moving fast can make you sick.”

  Princess Sylfaena said, “But didn’t Old Flinty put some kinetic dampers on the chassis of the Cadillac? It may be worth testing whether the enhancements can forestall motion sickness.”

  Victor said, “Huh. Well, if you wanna try it out…the story I’m talking about is in the Book of Daniel.”

  A comparative study of religion did sound like a refreshing change of pace. Very well. I brought out the little book and began to read as we left the landscape of the former kingdom of Araboria. I didn’t read the whole tome, mind you, for that would have been an undertaking of many days. Alas, her highness’ Comprehension still didn’t translate idioms so there were many points where I needed to pause and ask Victor what was meant, but still I got the general idea. Fascinating.

  As estimated, it was already dark by the time we reached Swan’s Crossing - so called because of its position on the river and because of the abundant waterfowl. It seemed like a charming, idyllic place; the sort where one might choose to retire in peace.

  Princess Illiana said, “‘Tis so peaceful and quiet!”

  Victor said, “Yeah this place sure has town that gets destroyed at the start of the movie written all over it.”

  I said, “If we can conceivably save these people, then t’would be indolence to simply do naught.”

  Victor nodded, “I agree. I’ve got no idea what a two-day delay’s gonna mean for our main objective, but I reckon it’d be worth it. Come, let’s find an inn and strategize.”

  Everyone nodded in agreement and resolve. This night we would rest easy - for the next day, we need prepare for war.