The knight pulled off his helmet, prepared to put it back on quickly if the atmosphere was dangerous. It was not! He could smell fresh, natural air. He was back on the Planes of Man! Thank Tiernon! He felt like shouting with joy; however, he dared not, lest he alert his captors. He grinned and shook his head in amazement.
He noted a trail leading down from the ledge to the village below. Should he take it? Or should he head for parts unknown and escape? If he went to the village, it was likely that the D’Orcs would find him. Unless, of course, they’d raided the village and moved on.
He glanced back to the village, thinking about putting his helmet back on for his visor’s long distance vision, but then rejected the idea. He liked the fresh, temperate air. The village was some distance away. It did appear there was some smoke, but only from some huts, and consistent with cooking fires. There was also motion in the village, so not everyone was dead.
This was curious. Why hadn’t the D’Orcs killed everyone? True, they had not killed everyone in the towns where they’d gotten supplies. Perhaps it is an orc village?
That would make sense, Ruiden replied. So? Are we going to make a run for it?
Talarius sighed. As tempting as his thought of fleeing away from the village had been, he could not. For one thing, he had no idea what world he was on. They sky was not quite the correct color, and the fierd did not look right either; it seemed a bit smaller. The other thing, of course, was that he was technically bound by the rules of hostage. His captor had honored it; thus so must he. He was not free to escape.
No, Talarius told Ruiden. We are honor bound.
He shook his head. Prior to his battle with the demon, he would have scoffed at the idea that the concept of honor applied to demons. However, much to his chagrin, his captor had behaved with far more honor than Talarius himself had. It was quite infuriating, if one thought of it, that a demon was behaving more honorably than a Knight Rampant. It was not something Talarius could tolerate. When they’d gone to battle the Knights of Chaos, he’d sworn to himself that as long as his captor treated him honorably, he would treat honorably with the demon. As a knight, it was the least he could do.
Talarius sighed and began heading down the path to the village. It was a fairly steep path, but well maintained. The maintenance was interesting. D’Orcs would not need to maintain a path, or even tread one, given that they could fly. That meant someone else, that did not fly, was journeying back and forth to the mountain. Talarius glanced behind him.
Not mountain; volcano, he corrected himself. There was a very clear volcanic bowl at the top of the mountain, along with clouds of soot belching from it. He snorted. It was like a miniature Mount Doom! He shook his head. What was this place?
As Talarius got closer to the village, he was surprised to see that, while ringed by a very sturdy, and even formidable, palisade, the gates were currently open and he could see people. Yes, people! Humans, dwarves and orcs, all wandering around, conducting the daily business of villagers. There were also a fair number of children.
He noted a group of youngsters of various ages and races outside the palisade, engaging in mock combat with swords and shields. What a very odd sight. There were clearly two teams, marked by ribbons on their arms, but the teams were not divided by race. Each side was a mix of humans, dwarves and orcs.
That was quite odd. Normally, even with an alliance, humans would fight in human armies or regiments, orcs with orcs, and dwarves with dwarves. Obviously, there were exceptions, particularly with exceptional warriors of each race; however, such a random mixing was unusual in Talarius’s experience.
He stopped near the mock combat to observe more closely. An older man, a human in leather armor who was teaching them, noticed Talarius presence and smiled as he walked over.
“Welcome,” he said. “I am Timeron. You came from the volcano; are you with Lord Tommus?” The man, speaking an oddly accented dialect of High Etonian, extended his hand in greeting.
Talarius blinked, surprised at the man’s friendliness. He quickly pulled off his gauntlet and shook the man’s hand. “Thank you. I am Talarius. Yes, I have come from Mount Doom. I am a guest of Lord Tommus.” He felt that was the simplest explanation that wouldn’t raise too many questions.
Timeron smiled broadly. “Indeed, welcome. Lord Tommus’s return is a glorious victory for the Forces of Light!”
Talarius shook his head, not sure he had heard the man correctly. “I’m sorry. Did you say a victory for the Forces of Light?”
The man nodded. “Indeed! At our height, Doom was the greatest of the Forces of Light here on Nysegard!”
Talarius blinked again. Nysegard? A world so nasty and lost to darkness that the Church had placed severe restrictions on traveling there? If this was Nysegard, then fleeing would not have been a wise choice.
This could actually be fun! Ruiden whispered in his head. The sword loved slaying undead.
“So this is Nysegard?” Talarius asked.
“Certainly. Did no one tell you?” Timeron asked.
“Well, I was occupied on other matters, so was not at the council meetings,” Talarius hedged.
“Ah.” Timeron nodded his head. In doing so, he noted the Sword and Shield of Tiernon amulet on Talarius’s belt. “Tiernon? Are you a knight of Tiernon?”
Talarius froze for a moment, suddenly nervous again. “Uhm, yes, a Knight Rampant from Astlan. I am surprised you recognized it. I did not think we had a large presence on Nysegard.”
To Talarius’s shock, Timeron nodded his head. “Not for thousands of years. However, your people are still here. There are a few followers even here, on the Isle of Doom. No priests though, just family worshippers with long tradition. A god of light and justice is always popular among warriors fighting the Forces of Darkness. However, over on the larger continent, there are still a few fortresses manned by the Shield of Tiernon,” Timeron said.
Talarius blinked. He was not sure what the Shield of Tiernon was, but presumably it was the Nysegard equivalent to the Rod of Tiernon. He refocused on what Timeron was saying.
“That’s how I recognized the symbol. We have a communication stone to them, as we do to the other groups composing the Forces of Light,” Timeron told him.
Talarius was stunned. “So you have fought beside them, as allies?”
“Not me, of course; Targh and several other D’Orcs have. Pretty sure we haven’t fought side by side for hundreds of years.”
The knight suddenly felt dizzy, as if he might swoon. “D’Orcs have fought alongside the forces of Tiernon?” His voice sounded weak, even to himself.
Timeron made some sort of shrugging expression. “According to the tales told by the D’Orcs who were there. We’ve even fought alongside the Los Alfar, and believe you me, that’s one crazy alliance.” He shook his head in wonder. “Apparently it was all both sides could do — orc, D’Orc and the Los Sidhe — not to kill each other. However, given the overwhelming threat of the Forces of Darkness… well, strange bedfellows and all that.”
“Yes,” Talarius said, feeling quite dazed. “Orcus, Champion of Light?” he mumbled to himself, but Timeron apparently heard him.
“Indeed, that is how he is known in Nysegard.” Timeron shook his head. “Things got very, very bad when he perished.” He gestured to the ruins. “The Unlife nearly overran the Isle of Doom. All of our major cities were flattened. Tens of thousands lost their lives to the Unlife.”