Dying Was The Easy Part

[Krugor]

((Solo.))

It was a clear night.

The streets were relatively quiet, except for the numerous sounds of snoring, and the stars stood brightly lit amongst the dark sky. The sun had set many hours ago and most of the population of Eluriand were happily sleeping and dreaming in their beds, after another tiresome day of working. Not even the most stubborn sword smiths, and Eluriand was home to quite a few, dared to disturb the early morning resting. It was just another lonesome night, waiting to change into day and to watch the streets fill with merchants.

So it was in fact quite surprising that the streets suddenly lit up by several candles and that the comforting silence was broken by loud screams and complaints.

“Auta miqula orqu!”

Window panel after window panel slammed open, heads popping out right after another. It was the noise of a small group of men charging down the street that awakened the, now cranky, population of the city.

“Ndengina ta!” one of the men screamed, meaning so much as “Kill it”.

It was obviously a chase for the people looking out their windows could see three figures running behind another figure, distinctively different from the ones chasing him. If one looked carefully they could see that the three chasing the other figure where Elves, easily recognizable by their graceful walk and agile ways of avoiding obstacles. The thing they were chasing was something they couldn’t quite place their finger on, but did remind them of something, or someone, they had seen before. It moved not all like the High Elves. It was rude in its way of walking, completely ignoring the things in front of him, knocking over barrel after barrel. The person also didn’t move as graceful as an Elf, in fact, it seemed as if it had trouble moving.

“Tula sinome!” another Elf involved in the chase cried out.

Crime rates in Eluriand were pretty much nonexistent, so the fact that there was a chase in the middle of the night had to mean something. People weren’t rudely pulled out of their sleep every single night, this had to be of importance. And that very thought was obviously filling the minds of the citizens, for they started opening their doors, moving out of their houses to get a better view of the events at hand.

==//==

It had been a long day when Krugor entered the city of Eluriand. After spending most of his time battling either silly Elves in a cage tournament or a broken-hearted necromancer with ostriches for minions, the skeleton was tired. He hadn’t had much sleep lately and hoped to get a bed for the night in this seemingly nice city.

Krugor had strolled the streets of the city for a while now and hadn’t met anyone that could recommend him an inn or a tavern, anything that could offer him a bed. It seemed that the people of the Elven capital went to bed early, for the sun had just begun to set.

After almost an hour of meaningless wandering the skeleton had found what seemed to be a tavern, with a big sign above the door and several lights still shining behind the windows. Filled with self-confidence Krugor stepped inside the building, greeting the girl behind the counter smiling; “Good evening, milady. Do you have a spare be-“

He was interrupted in his sentence by a high-pitched scream, followed by the girl slapping her hands against her cheeks. “Excuse me, miss. Is something wrong?” Krugor asked, in a friendly manner.

Again the girl screamed.

“Please, calm down!”

The wooden door slammed open, wind blowing into the room.

Frightened by the rapidly evolving chain of events Krugor let out a high-pitched scream of his own, to the surprise of the three men entering the tavern. “What is going on here?” he asked, hoping to get a little bit of explanation.

“Ndengina ta!” one of them said to his two companions as he unsheathed a long and slender sword. It was beautifully decorated and probably of Elven making, Krugor guessed. For a second he smiled, as he thought about how odd it was that he noticed this silly, meaningless details in drastic times, in times where his life was on the line.

“Amin feuya ten' lle” one of the men whispered, his disgust for Krugor showing by the spit flying through the air as he spoke.

[Krugor]

With a loud crash Krugor fell into tons and tons of garbage as he jumped over a small, stone wall. A wave of raining arrows pierced into the piles of dirt around him and into the spot he had only lay on for a split second before. The skeleton had already gotten his body up from the ground and continued his way.

This was unheard of. Why was suddenly the entire city guard of Eluriand after him? He had only asked for a room for the night, even in a polite manner. It didn’t make sense that was he was repaid by a chase all across the town.

Krugor could hear the Elves behind him screaming at him and shouting commands at each other. Looking over his shoulder he could see them gaining on him, there was no way he could outrun the well-trained guardians of this Elvish capital.

A sharp, steel arrow scratched his left arm as it flew by.

Another soaring just over his head.

“Damn” he softly whispered to himself. It was obvious now that he had only a few seconds left before they’d pin him to the ground and throw him in the deepest, darkest dungeon he’d ever seen. If they would leave him alive, that is. It wasn’t his style, but it seemed there was no other choice. He had to battle them.

“Caela ie'lle!” the tallest of the guards shouted, as he raised his sword and charged towards Krugor. The skeleton had stopped, calculating his chances and decided he needed to settle this here and now. Suddenly he turned around and slammed his plynt staff sideways into the stomach of the oncoming attacker. The unknowing fool ran straight into the hard piece of metal and vomited a bit as the staff made it way into his body.

“Stop this nonsense! I have no bad intentions!” Krugor cried. In vain it seemed, for another Elf come charging, gracefully balancing his weight from foot to foot. Swinging his short sword the guard forced Krugor to take on a more defensive stance. If the skeleton had any free seconds he would get down on his knees and thank the gods for the upgrade of his staff from yew to plynt. The wood had been shattered by now but the sturdy metal could block several swings from the Elven swords. And if it wasn’t for a cheap shot and a backstab the skeleton would still be standing. Keeping himself against the aggressive guards.

==//==

It had now been several hours since his battle with the protectors of Eluriand when Krugor found himself waking up in the darkest, deepest dungeon he had ever seen. He didn’t have the normal eyes any living being had, only his magically enhanced eye sockets. So there was no way he could adjust to darkness around him, like a normal person would do. It was pitch black and would remain that way until a line of light formed in front of him. The thin line slowly grew into a big square and a slender figure appeared inside it. “Khila amin” the person commanded. Krugor didn’t speak a word of Elvish but he figured it would mean something like “follow me”, judging by the motioning hand gesture.

The skeleton raised his body and tried to take a few steps before he fell over, flat on his face. The person in the doorway laughed loudly as Krugor realised he had been bound by hands and feet. He needed to more careful with walking, any big steps would trip him over like this. The guard grabbed the cook hard by his left arm and forced Krugor to take on his own sturdy walking pace. The two of them walked for several minutes, up a winding staircase and through numerous hallways before they arrived at a large room.

It was filled with Elves. Only Elves, as far as Krugor could see. At the opposite end of the room sat an Elf, wearing the most brightly colored outfit of them all. “He must be the highest in rank. This isn’t going to be pleasant.”

Not loosing his grip in any way the guard pulled Krugor forward, throwing him down to the floor in front of the highest ranked officer present.

[Krugor]

His fears were realised by hard punch in the face. The guard who had escorted him to the execution room, or at least that’s what it looked like to Krugor, was now releasing all his anger on the skeleton. Krugor had to endure several punches and kicks, before the officer stepped up and ended the scene. A mere waving of the hand was enough to get the guard of the skeleton.

“I’m assuming you don’t speak Elvish, skeleton” the Elf said to him, as he descended from a small stairs, going down from what seemed to be a very unoriginal throne.

“You got that right” Krugor responded “Do you mind telling me what the hell is going on here?” he questioned in return.

Whispers and rumours could be heard spreading through the crowd around the couple. It became now apparent to Krugor that the room was not filled with Elves, it was packed with Elves. Numerous figures in the room where pushing against each other, to get a better view of what was going on. The skeleton couldn’t understand what was going on.

“You’ve been captured by employees of the Bladesinger’s Guild. Don’t tell me this comes as a surprise to you. I don’t know what your master was thinking sending you here, but the only reason I’ve kept you alive is because I want to know what he is planning. So speak up, minion of the dark!”

That last sentence was spoken with such a low tone, with such a fearsome accent that Krugor actually felt threatened. He was afraid.

“Talidus?” he asked confused “He isn’t planning anything. Well, if you count breeding ostriches and proposing to skeletons as a plan, then yes, he has some sort of plan, but I-“

“Silence!” the officer commanded, interrupting Krugor. “Don’t play a fool! I don’t know who this Talidus is of which you speak, but I want to hear about your true master! The one who attacked this capital some time ago. I’m talking about Xem'zûnd!”

“Who?”

“Damn you, skeleton! I could behead you on the spot, leaving you disgraced and unworthy of your master for all eternity. Speak up, now!”

“Look, I don’t know what you’re talking about! So just let me go and I’ll forget this whole incident, okay?”

The crowd screamed, throwing all kind of insults at the skeleton. Some even managed to throw tiny rocks at Krugor. Never in his life, or his death, had he ever felt so alone. He had run into fights, arguments and battles before, but never ever had he been hated by so many at once. It seemed as if the whole city, the whole race of Elves was against him. And for what he didn’t know. The only thing he knew was that Eluriand had some sort of grudge against this Xem'zûnd fellow, who Krugor didn’t know at all. Why was he being tortured like this? Why was knowing this guy so terribly bad? And why did they instinctively decided he knew the guy at all?

“Silence! Silence, I say!” the high Elven officer shouted again. This time his commands were directed at the roaring crowd instead of Krugor. “You better start talking, skeleton, or I’ll let this crowd loose on you. They’ll torture you so bad you wish you were never created!”

“Please..” Krugor staggered, his hopes and dreams fading from his mind “I really don’t know what you’re talking about!”

The Elf sighed and kneeled next to Krugor, who was still laying on the floor, recovering from the beating. Softly the officer whispered; “You’d better start talking. Skeleton or not, they’ll mess with you so bad you’re going to feel pain like any living being. For your own good, tell us about your master and his schemes. Is he trying to overthrow Eluriand again? Is his army of ghouls, wraiths, zombies and skeletons already on foot? Please. Talk.”

For the first time since Krugor had entered the chamber he noticed a bit of helplessness, a bit of begging in the voice of the officer. There was not a shred of doubt that they thought of Krugor as somebody important to this master they were talking about. They needed his information. But he wouldn't tell them a thing.

“If you want to know how to cook the sweetest soup known to man, if you want to know what the biggest mushroom around these regions is, if you want to know how to make a cup of tea with only a piece of paper, if you want to know all that you can come talk to me. Otherwise go away and leave me alone. I don’t know anything about that Xem'zûnd guy and even if I did I wouldn’t tell you. What ever happened to asking nicely? Leave me alone!’

The Elf looked so very disappointed when he raised his hand and motioned for the crowd to take Krugor away. He didn’t except such a response.

“You’ll be in hell now, skeleton!” he yelled as the masses punched, kicked and pulled Krugor away from the room.

[Krugor]

I guess dying was the easy part. It’s living that’s a hell.

Krugor was on the brink of letting go, as dying seemed to be the only way out of this hell. The people of Eluriand had bound him to the back of an enormous cart, displayed for everyone to see as they moved through the streets of the city. The cart was pulled by two beautiful, black horses. Inside the cart stood one guard from the Bladesinger’s Guild and one employee from the High Bard’s Council. At least, that’s what Krugor understood so far. Every time someone punched him the stomach (there were tens, if not hundreds, of people walking behind the cart) or threw a stone at him he raised up his head in agony. Krugor had learned to think about other stuff, happy stuff, when he was in pain, so it wasn’t hard for him to ponder about the uniforms of the two Elves inside the cart. When he raised his head he could look up at the two looking over him. The left one was wearing a blue uniform, with a tiny button on his chest, picturing the logo of the Bladesinger’s Guild. It was the same man who had escorted him to the throne room before. Apparently the guy had something personal to settle with Krugor for he was the first to volunteer in escorting the skeleton again.

The second Elf in the cart was from the High Bard’s Council, as indicated by his distinctive clothing and weaponry. Meaning none. The Elf was only carrying a tiny flute, strapped to his side. This particular man was so different from the Bladesinger next to him, who was at least two times bigger and much more bulky.

After several moments of disgrace Krugor and his escort party arrived at the center of the city, the grand palace of the High Bard Council; Velicë Arta. The two Elves jumped out of the cart and released Krugor from his uncomfortable position. The couple picked him up and forced him to walk up the big stairs, leading to the massive entrance of the palace.

“You’ll be trailed here, skeleton” the High Bard spoke. Krugor looked up in surprise, he didn’t except anyone to be talking to him in words he could understand. “I see you’re surprised by hearing the common tongue” the Bard continued; “Well, I want you to hear what we’re accusing you of. What we’re planning for you, my friend. You’ll be severely punished for your arrogant act.”

“Arrogant act? I just wanted a bed…” the skeleton sighed, using his remaining strength to talk. He was exhausted by this terrible and weary turn of events.

When the threesome arrived at the top of the stairs they could look over a part of the streets of Eluriand, all filled with Elves. Some were armed, some were not even adults yet. There were even women out there, yelling at Krugor. The two guards turned the skeleton around, to let him face the angry mob.

“Citizens of Eluriand!” the High Bard spoke, addressing the mob of people “It seems that the warlock Xem'zûnd has returned and sent out a scout. But don’t worry! We’ve got him!” He stopped talking for a second, letting the applause and cheers come over him. “This skeleton will stand trial today for treason, attempting to take over the throne and much, much more. Don’t worry, Elurians, he will not leave this city alive! I, Calorfindil Tinil-Galas, High Bard of Ost'Dargolin, shall personally see to that!”. And to put some more expression to this statement Krugor was given a hard, right hook on the jaw. Slowly he fell to the ground, not having the strength to keep himself standing.

[Krugor]

The entire trial hadn’t taken longer than, at most, 10 minutes. Before the skeleton realised what exactly was going on he was already outside, on the cascade of the palace. The crowd was still there, waiting for the judgement of the High Bard Council. Nobody really expected to see Krugor walking away unharmed and innocent but they still stood there. Just lusting for the inevitable statement that they could tear apart the evil known as Krugor. It was already a strange phenomenon that the skeleton wasn’t killed on sight, but they took comfort in the fact that they had captured a minion of the famed warlock, an insider that knew his plans.

The wooden doors slammed open and Krugor was escorted outside, right into the view of the angry mob. As he stood there helplessly he was rudely pushed forward, back into the cart and back through the streets of Eluriand. Going through it all again. Even thrown back into the dungeon beneath the top layers of the earth.

==//==

“So, what happened with the skeleton?” the High Elven officer asked his trusted companion.

“They found him guilty and we have thrown him back in the dungeon for further interrogation!” the soldier replied.

“Hmm. I see. That means Xem’rûnd is really back, after all. Send out a small patrol to the Obsidian Spire, I must know if he has taken his old headquarters back.”

“Yes, Sir!” the soldier stormed out of the room to get some volunteers. It wasn’t an easy task he knew, for the Obsidian Spire wasn’t the nicest place in Raiaera. In fact, it was devoted of all life, not even the undead dared to venture there. But if the warlock had really returned they had to check it out, they had to be one step ahead of him.

“Attention, Bladesingers!’ he shouted when he entered the barracks of the Elven guards. It seemed that he was also an officer, though a rank lower than the High Officer. “I need three brave men to come with me to the Obsidian Spire!”

There was no response.

“Come on! We have reason to believe that Xem’rûnd might be back! I just found one of his minions.”

The only response this time was soft whispering among the soldiers.

“Alright, then I’ll pick the volunteers. You should feel honoured when you’re picked, you will receive great heaps of honor and respect once we leave the city for this difficult task.”

Sighs of relief and sighs of despair met each other when the officer had handpicked the three men to go with him. They put on their battle uniforms, made sure they were armed to the teeth and climbed upon four excellent running horses. Accompanied by honoring cheers and crying women they sped out of the Elven capital.

There was no way they could let history repeat itself.





((All Elvish is translated here for better understanding!))

[Krugor]

“Why do they treat me like this?”

Krugor sat in the corner of the cell, his legs pulled up and his arms wrapped around them. His rucksack was placed next to him, just as his staff, indicating the Elurians didn’t see him as a danger anymore. What good would his stuff do in the deepest dungeon anyway?

“I don’t even know this Xem’zûnd fellow. And why did they suspect me of knowing him anyway?”

Anger overwhelmed the skeleton. He picked up a small pebble and threw it aggressively against the wall. “Stupid Elves. They’re all just too stubborn for their own good” Krugor mumbled to himself.

“You’ve got a point there” a strange voice suddenly said.

“Who’s there?!” Krugor asked frightened. Who else might also be locked up here, caged as a beast?

The stranger responded by letting out a sinister laugh.

“I am you.” He said finally.

“I don’t understand.”

Again the stranger laughed frantically. Slowly it crept into the light, which was merely a tiny candle hanging from the ceiling.

“A zombie!” Krugor cried out, quickly grabbing his dagger.

“Don’t be a fool. Zombies wouldn’t talk to you like I’m doing. I would’ve eaten you by now if I was one.”

“T-then what are you?

“I’m what the upper people call; a corrupted Elf.”

“What? Upper people? Corrupted Elf? I don’t understand?”

“You’re not really a bright light, are you?” the Elf said jokingly, before telling his story;

“The upper people are the Elurians. I just call them that because I’m down here and they’re up there. And corrupted Elves are Elves raised from the dead, but not losing any of the advantages a living being has. Like agility and flexibility. So, in a way I’m one of your brothers.”

“Is that what you meant by being me?”

“No. That’s not it. I am what they’re accusing you of.”

“Y-you’re a scout f-from Xem’zûnd?”

“That’s not entirely the truth. I’m a scout, yes, but not from Xem’zûnd. I was send by Nyvengaal.”

The Elf paused for a second. “Strangely enough they captured me for hanging around the country side. They thought I was looking to kill some farmers and threw me in here for further observation. They don’t see corrupted Elves every day, you know.”

“Than you should tell them!” the skeleton screamed. This Elf might be his way out of here, if he could just tell the Bladesingers. “Tell them you’re a scout and I’m not! I don’t belong here!”

Krugor also crept closer to the light, positioning himself next the decaying Elf. He wasn’t a pretty sight to behold. The man wasn’t at all like Krugor, who was stripped of all flesh and muscles. This guy still had flesh and muscles. Only did it seem to be too much for his body, flesh hanging down with numerous rotting wounds and bones protruding at several places.

“Wait. Who is Nyvengaal?”

For the third time the Elf started laughing, and started to get on Krugor’s nerves. This was one annoying person, with his many mysteries, his stupid laugh and strange way of talking. Krugor was in for a long time here in the cell.

[Krugor]

It was still early in the morning, or at least Krugor thought it was early in the morning, having lost most of his sense of time being locked up for days, when the door swung open. The metal door banged loudly against the rocky walls of the dungeon.

“You! Skeleton! Get up here!” the guard commanded.

Two men picked him up from the ground and dragged his body up the winding stairs. “Goodbye, Alonuvic!” he yelled at his cellmate from the last few days.

For a moment the skeleton thought he was having a deja vu when he was thrown in front of the High Officer. But slowly, fragment by fragment, the memories of before came sliding back. Krugor had been locked up for at least two weeks and couldn’t quite remember the moments that happened before that. He could, however, strongly remember the angry mob who marked him as a demon, as a threat to the city.

“Skeleton” the High Officer started “You must tell us what is going on at Minas Teradryn.”

“Midas what?” Krugor replied somewhat dumbfounded. It was amazing how strong headed these Elves kept throwing words of their own language at him.

“The Obsidian Spire. You know what it is.”

“I do? Strange, I can’t remember any of it.”

“Come on, skeleton, you know-“ the High Officer began but was now, to his total surprise, interrupted by Krugor;

“Oh wait, I know what it is.”

“Yes, you-“

“It is one of your bullshit lies again!” Krugor screamed, interrupting the officer a second time. “Kick me, punch me, give me another fake trial or throw me in jail, but please spare me the lies and deceit. This is starting to annoy me.”

This sudden burst of anger was something that threw the officer of his track. He could feel the eyes of his men piercing through him. This skeleton was turning him into a weakling, he couldn’t let the undead speak to him in such a tone. He had to repair this damage quickly.

“Shut up! How dare you speak to me like that!? I should slice in a thousand pieces, right now!”

The High Elf descended from his throne and grabbed Krugor by the collar of his shirt, pulling him very close to his own face. The skeleton could feel the power in the man’s hand, veins pumping through his fingers.

“But I won’t. And you know why? Because you’re going to guide us to Minas Teradryn and show us Xem’rûnd! We’ll finish him once and for all!”

The tall Elf threw Krugor to the floor again and walked up to his throne. It was a bold statement, he knew, one he couldn’t possibly make reality. But he had no other choice. The Elves were in a state of fear right now, with the possibility of the return of Xem’zûnd and he had to calm them. The patrol he had send out days ago hadn’t come back and people speculated about the terrible death the men must've had. No, he didn’t have any other choice.

[Krugor]

Officer Sidrall Warzephyr had been in the Bladesinger’s Guild for quite some time now. He was a man of age, with several locks of grey hair showing in his blonde, spiked hair. Dark eyebrows and thick beard covered most of his face, but one could still see a war-hardened officer with an unexpected sympathetic face beneath it all. Wearing a titanium breastplate, with the picture of slender sword engraved in it, and a long, red cloak he also made a remarkably stern impression. The Elf carried a long sword at his waist, probably made from prevalida, as indicated by its bright color. The hilt was from dark red leather, the Bladesinger’s logo embroidered into it. This was a man who wouldn’t be easily frightened and had seen a fair share of wars.

Yet even the thought of Krugor made him shiver a bit. Never before had a skeleton dared to walk into Eluriand so carelessly, so unaware of the consequences. Xem’zûnd was getting arrogant and that wasn’t a good sign.

Sidrall walked around in circles in his chamber. He had to think of a way to get near the Obsidian Spire without being detected. The area was usually deserted, at least that was being assumed from eye witness reports, but being a military veteran Sidrall Warzephyr knew that that might be a trick of some sort. The great warlock wouldn’t leave his headquarter so unguarded, there had to be something. And he had to think of a way to go around it. The tall Elf sat down in his chair, staring at the ceiling. Why couldn’t he think of anything? Maybe he was getting to old for this. He was, after all, a senior. Even by Elven standards. Another attack by a mighty warlock might be too much. This wasn’t how he pictured to fill his last remaining days. Or maybe he was handling this all wrong. Maybe there was no trap, maybe there wasn’t even a warlock. The only way of knowing for sure was to march over there and kick in the door. And that was just what he planned to do, trap or no trap.

“Are you ready?”

Sidrall attempted to put Krugor more at ease, for after all, he needed him. A stubborn skeleton wasn’t going to tell him anything if he was brushed the wrong way. The undead replied with a look that was meant to kill however and the Elf realised that this was going to be a hard task. Averting his eyes from Krugor the officer took a quick look at his troops; eight soldiers (carrying bows and spears), two captains (equipped with longs swords) and eleven horses. It wouldn’t be nearly enough to take down Xem’zûnd but it would be sufficient to get to the tower safely. This was Sidrall Warzephyr’s day of justice.

“’Let’s ride!”

Eleven horses shot into a full run and with haste they were on their way to the dark tower. It would be a long ride, but it would be worth it if everything went according to plan.

(This thread continues here (http://www.althanas.com/world/showthread.php?t=2623))