Post by Alfreya on Oct 23, 2007 7:56:08 GMT -7
More of Elinea's creative writing !!
WARNING !! Reading of this material can be ADDICTIVE !!!
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The Captives of Freeport – Chapter I - The Oracle's Warning
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The building was old and dilapidated; "Not somewhere I'd expect someone of her stature to live." D'Lere thought as he entered.
It was dark, very dark. The only light coming from a lantern and several candles. She was young,ageless; sitting at a small table with a very ornate white candle in the center; she looked up at D'Lere when he entered and motioned him to sit down. As he sat down, Lucan put a small heavy pouch on the table. The Oracle opened it and counted for a moment and then put the pouch away somewhere under the table. She looked back up at him and put her hands flat on the table; one on each side of the candle.
"To what do I owe this visit from his Lordship? Do you seek information of the future, my Lord?"
"I do Oracle. I have had disturbing dreams as of late and I would like to know their significance, if any."
"Tell me about the dreams, my Lord."
D'Lere closed his eyes and gave a quiet sigh. "Disturbing, dark. The only thing I can remember when I wake up in that cold sweat I always seem to wake up in, is the blue flame in the dream."
The Oracle's head jerked up slightly from it's bent position of intent listening. She glanced up at D'Lere and then back at her candle on the table.
D'Lere continued: "The strange thing about the dream is I never see where the flame is comng from -- I just see the quick glimpse of the back of someone's head. They have red hair."
There was a silence, and then the Oracle spoke: "The fair one of the forest. The red-haired one."
She looked up at D'Lere and frowned.
A quick chill ran through Lucan, "What's wrong? Who is the 'fair one of the forest'? You mean one of the elves of the Faydark?"
"The Bearer of the Blue Flame, my Lord."
The Oracle's eyes looked past Lucan and off into space somewhere behind him.
"There are two fair ones, both from the forest. One, the one with the flame colored hair, is the Bearer of the Flame - the other, who is unmarked by the sign of her people - is her companion."
She quickly looked back at D'Lere - "This is only a story, my Lord. But some believe it is a prophacy of a powerful person to come."
D'Lere was thoughtful for a moment, "Koada'Dal and Feir'Dal, the two elven races of the Faydark", D'Lere whispered and then was silent.
"She and her companion are two of the 'Gifted Ones'".
Lucan's eyes widened, "Yes, my advisor has spoken of two 'Gifted Ones'. Her suggestion is that we find them and bring them to Freeport."
"That would be most wise on your part, my Lord. Your dream is a warning."
"A warning; of what?" Lucan asked.
"You're in danger, my Lord. Your life is in danger because of the Bearer of the Flame."
There was a very long silence. The candle on the Oracle's table was just about gone and the room was getting darker. Lucan bowed his head and got up to leave.
He walked to the door to go and then turned around to once again face the ageless young face of the Oracle.
"Why are you telling me all this?"
The Oracle smiled and spread her arms and hands in a gesture of surrender.
"I am but a neutral observer and reporter of information, my Lord. My gift is given to all, for a small price."
"Which I have paid adequately?"
"Yes, my Lordship, very adequately, thank you."
Lucan smiled and once again turned to leave. But before he could go, the Oracle's voice came to him from the dark one last time:
"Beware the Blue Flame, my Lord."
Lucan stopped as he opened the door and suddenly felt himself break out in the cold sweat of his nightmare.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Freeport was not a city that took too kindly to bad news. Or perhaps, put more correctly, the Overlord was not a man who took too kindly to bad news.
Gerrath was fully aware of this. He stood in the office of Overlord Lucan D'Lere and waited. He had been called here; and had not been told why. But rumor was that it concerned a rather disturbing piece of news the Overlord had recently received. As Commander-in-Chief of the Overlord's Elite Special Forces, the Ogre had had many encounters with his Lordship; but they were always outside of his office. Out in the open. It was never a good thing to be called into his office. Never.
The Overlord stood with his back to Gerrath, facing the only window in his office, which happened to be behind his desk. In obvious deep thought--and totally silent--until he gave a deep sigh and turned to face his commander.
"Gerrath, the honorable commander of my special forces------
oh, Gerrath, please---------sit down; you're making me..........
Oh, just sit down."
"Thank you, my Lord."
Gerrath took the closest seat; the one directly in front of D'Lere's desk.
"That's better Gerrath."
Silence, and then the Overlord's deep, resonant, chilling laughter echoed for a few moments in the room.
"Is that what they say, Gerrath?"
"What my Lord?"
"That if you're ever called into the Overlord's office--
you don't come out? Oh, Gerrath, you're not in trouble."
After a brief silence he added, " Yet, anyway."
"No, I called you in here, because I needed to discuss something with you, in private. Something very important to Freeport, and to me.
I have an assignment for you--a very special one."
A brief period of silence, Gerrath waited, nothing stirred in the office.
"Have you ever been to the Faydark, Gerrath?"
"No my Lord, I haven't."
"I've been there Gerrath, it's quite beautiful. Kelethin is an architectual marvel. Built totally in the trees. How the Feir'Dal could have built something like it, that ingenious, is beyond me. One would not think they were that smart."
"Ah yes, and Felwithe. Truly one of the most lovely cities in Norrath. I'm sure the Erudites would disagree with me. But never the less, it certainly rivals their Erudin."
Another painful silence; and D'Lere continued-------
"There are two girls, Gerrath. One a Koada'Dal living in Felwithe; the other a Feir'Dal in Kelethin. "
The Overlord had walked from his desk to stand behind Gerrath; and put his hands on the back of Gerrath's chair.
"I need you and your people to find them for me. And bring them back to Freeport; back to me. And only me. They are to be alive, Gerrath. Alive and unharmed. Unharmed both physically as well as emotionally."
"If there is a bump, bruise, scrape, or cut on either one of them--you, personally, will pay. I would like them to be well fed and well taken care of, Gerrath."
"Now I know that the girls may try to escape from you---that's to be expected. So I'm sending two Teir'Dal healers along to help you take care of them. Oh, and Gerrath, there will be some Teir'Dal advisors along with you on this assignment. "
Gerrath's back stiffened in the chair with these words.
"I know. I know, Gerrath. There is no love lost between you and the dark elves.
However, because of the importance of this mission, I feel that it will take all of our cooperation with each other to make it a success. And I don't wish to lose a good commanding officer."
The Overlord continued after a brief pause; which seemd very long to Gerrath: "If you fail to bring the girls back to Freeport, I wouldn't bother coming back myself, if I were you. Because I will put an order out, with a very adequate reward for the person who happens to fullfill the requirements. An order to kill you on sight if you are seen within the borders of the Commonlands, or if you make it further than that, within the city walls themselves. Am I making myself clear, Gerrath?"
"Very clear, my Lord." Gerrath replied.
"Good, very good. You, as a commander, understand the neccessity of manitaining discipline, of course."
"I do, my Lord."
D'Lere walked over and stood behind the desk with his hands behind his back: "You've never failed me in the past, Gerrath. I don't expect you to fail me now. You have two days to get your men ready. Is that adequate time, commander?"
"It is, my Lord."
Gerrath stood up from the chair and looked his Lordship in the eyes: "I will bring them back, my Lord."
D'Lere smiled,"I'm sure you will, Gerrath. Dismissed."
Gerrath gave a slight bow of his head; turned, and left the office.
Lucan was again alone --- or thought he was. He looked up at the ceiling and felt a presence. A very dark presence.
"So now you're eavesdropping on my private conversations?"
A very familiar female voice replied from out of the darkness somewhere in his office. One he had had many conversations with.
"Eavesdropping, my Lord? No, not eavesdropping, just curious."
"Curiosity can get you killed, you know."
The laughter was quiet and deadly : "Yes,I know my Lord, but since this 'project' involves me directly, I thought I had a right to know how it was progressing."
"It progresses very well; my men leave in........but you already know that...........don't you?"
"Yes my Lord, I do."
"Now the question is: can your people be ready in three days?"
"My people are ready now, my Lord. We've been ready."
"Yes, I can imagine so. I have one last matter I would like clarified for me, if you don't mind."
"Anything my Lord."
"Are you absolutely positive that Qeynos knows nothing of the girls' locations? I do not need my men running into an ambush. Bad for morale."
"Qeynos has no idea of their existance, much less their location. Of this, I am absolutely sure, my Lord."
"Qeynos has no way of finding out about them?"
"No my Lord; they don't have anyone with my, um, 'talent'."
"Ah, I see. And I am sure you would know if they did, correct?"
"Yes my Lord. I could sense them; just like I can the girls."
"They could also sense you then."
A long quiet silence before the voice continued. " Yes my Lord, they could."
The late afternoon light had left the sky and only the light from the Freeport lanterns and urns lighted the dismal goings on on the streets below. Lucan's office too was now completely devoid of light. A situation he found very comforting at times.
"My Lord, I wish to remind you of one more thing---a gentle reminder if you will. And then I will leave you to your thoughts."
" Continue."
" If, by some chance, we do not get the girls and they find their way to Qeynos......"
Lucan's fist came down on his desk----"We will get the girls!"
The voice became very soft and forboding. In a whisper now, it said, "I'm sure my Lord. But remember this; if we do not get them, they will become a thorn in Freeport's side. And yours. For the rest of their days."
WARNING !! Reading of this material can be ADDICTIVE !!!
________________________________________________
The Captives of Freeport – Chapter I - The Oracle's Warning
----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The building was old and dilapidated; "Not somewhere I'd expect someone of her stature to live." D'Lere thought as he entered.
It was dark, very dark. The only light coming from a lantern and several candles. She was young,ageless; sitting at a small table with a very ornate white candle in the center; she looked up at D'Lere when he entered and motioned him to sit down. As he sat down, Lucan put a small heavy pouch on the table. The Oracle opened it and counted for a moment and then put the pouch away somewhere under the table. She looked back up at him and put her hands flat on the table; one on each side of the candle.
"To what do I owe this visit from his Lordship? Do you seek information of the future, my Lord?"
"I do Oracle. I have had disturbing dreams as of late and I would like to know their significance, if any."
"Tell me about the dreams, my Lord."
D'Lere closed his eyes and gave a quiet sigh. "Disturbing, dark. The only thing I can remember when I wake up in that cold sweat I always seem to wake up in, is the blue flame in the dream."
The Oracle's head jerked up slightly from it's bent position of intent listening. She glanced up at D'Lere and then back at her candle on the table.
D'Lere continued: "The strange thing about the dream is I never see where the flame is comng from -- I just see the quick glimpse of the back of someone's head. They have red hair."
There was a silence, and then the Oracle spoke: "The fair one of the forest. The red-haired one."
She looked up at D'Lere and frowned.
A quick chill ran through Lucan, "What's wrong? Who is the 'fair one of the forest'? You mean one of the elves of the Faydark?"
"The Bearer of the Blue Flame, my Lord."
The Oracle's eyes looked past Lucan and off into space somewhere behind him.
"There are two fair ones, both from the forest. One, the one with the flame colored hair, is the Bearer of the Flame - the other, who is unmarked by the sign of her people - is her companion."
She quickly looked back at D'Lere - "This is only a story, my Lord. But some believe it is a prophacy of a powerful person to come."
D'Lere was thoughtful for a moment, "Koada'Dal and Feir'Dal, the two elven races of the Faydark", D'Lere whispered and then was silent.
"She and her companion are two of the 'Gifted Ones'".
Lucan's eyes widened, "Yes, my advisor has spoken of two 'Gifted Ones'. Her suggestion is that we find them and bring them to Freeport."
"That would be most wise on your part, my Lord. Your dream is a warning."
"A warning; of what?" Lucan asked.
"You're in danger, my Lord. Your life is in danger because of the Bearer of the Flame."
There was a very long silence. The candle on the Oracle's table was just about gone and the room was getting darker. Lucan bowed his head and got up to leave.
He walked to the door to go and then turned around to once again face the ageless young face of the Oracle.
"Why are you telling me all this?"
The Oracle smiled and spread her arms and hands in a gesture of surrender.
"I am but a neutral observer and reporter of information, my Lord. My gift is given to all, for a small price."
"Which I have paid adequately?"
"Yes, my Lordship, very adequately, thank you."
Lucan smiled and once again turned to leave. But before he could go, the Oracle's voice came to him from the dark one last time:
"Beware the Blue Flame, my Lord."
Lucan stopped as he opened the door and suddenly felt himself break out in the cold sweat of his nightmare.
---------------------------------------------------------------
Freeport was not a city that took too kindly to bad news. Or perhaps, put more correctly, the Overlord was not a man who took too kindly to bad news.
Gerrath was fully aware of this. He stood in the office of Overlord Lucan D'Lere and waited. He had been called here; and had not been told why. But rumor was that it concerned a rather disturbing piece of news the Overlord had recently received. As Commander-in-Chief of the Overlord's Elite Special Forces, the Ogre had had many encounters with his Lordship; but they were always outside of his office. Out in the open. It was never a good thing to be called into his office. Never.
The Overlord stood with his back to Gerrath, facing the only window in his office, which happened to be behind his desk. In obvious deep thought--and totally silent--until he gave a deep sigh and turned to face his commander.
"Gerrath, the honorable commander of my special forces------
oh, Gerrath, please---------sit down; you're making me..........
Oh, just sit down."
"Thank you, my Lord."
Gerrath took the closest seat; the one directly in front of D'Lere's desk.
"That's better Gerrath."
Silence, and then the Overlord's deep, resonant, chilling laughter echoed for a few moments in the room.
"Is that what they say, Gerrath?"
"What my Lord?"
"That if you're ever called into the Overlord's office--
you don't come out? Oh, Gerrath, you're not in trouble."
After a brief silence he added, " Yet, anyway."
"No, I called you in here, because I needed to discuss something with you, in private. Something very important to Freeport, and to me.
I have an assignment for you--a very special one."
A brief period of silence, Gerrath waited, nothing stirred in the office.
"Have you ever been to the Faydark, Gerrath?"
"No my Lord, I haven't."
"I've been there Gerrath, it's quite beautiful. Kelethin is an architectual marvel. Built totally in the trees. How the Feir'Dal could have built something like it, that ingenious, is beyond me. One would not think they were that smart."
"Ah yes, and Felwithe. Truly one of the most lovely cities in Norrath. I'm sure the Erudites would disagree with me. But never the less, it certainly rivals their Erudin."
Another painful silence; and D'Lere continued-------
"There are two girls, Gerrath. One a Koada'Dal living in Felwithe; the other a Feir'Dal in Kelethin. "
The Overlord had walked from his desk to stand behind Gerrath; and put his hands on the back of Gerrath's chair.
"I need you and your people to find them for me. And bring them back to Freeport; back to me. And only me. They are to be alive, Gerrath. Alive and unharmed. Unharmed both physically as well as emotionally."
"If there is a bump, bruise, scrape, or cut on either one of them--you, personally, will pay. I would like them to be well fed and well taken care of, Gerrath."
"Now I know that the girls may try to escape from you---that's to be expected. So I'm sending two Teir'Dal healers along to help you take care of them. Oh, and Gerrath, there will be some Teir'Dal advisors along with you on this assignment. "
Gerrath's back stiffened in the chair with these words.
"I know. I know, Gerrath. There is no love lost between you and the dark elves.
However, because of the importance of this mission, I feel that it will take all of our cooperation with each other to make it a success. And I don't wish to lose a good commanding officer."
The Overlord continued after a brief pause; which seemd very long to Gerrath: "If you fail to bring the girls back to Freeport, I wouldn't bother coming back myself, if I were you. Because I will put an order out, with a very adequate reward for the person who happens to fullfill the requirements. An order to kill you on sight if you are seen within the borders of the Commonlands, or if you make it further than that, within the city walls themselves. Am I making myself clear, Gerrath?"
"Very clear, my Lord." Gerrath replied.
"Good, very good. You, as a commander, understand the neccessity of manitaining discipline, of course."
"I do, my Lord."
D'Lere walked over and stood behind the desk with his hands behind his back: "You've never failed me in the past, Gerrath. I don't expect you to fail me now. You have two days to get your men ready. Is that adequate time, commander?"
"It is, my Lord."
Gerrath stood up from the chair and looked his Lordship in the eyes: "I will bring them back, my Lord."
D'Lere smiled,"I'm sure you will, Gerrath. Dismissed."
Gerrath gave a slight bow of his head; turned, and left the office.
Lucan was again alone --- or thought he was. He looked up at the ceiling and felt a presence. A very dark presence.
"So now you're eavesdropping on my private conversations?"
A very familiar female voice replied from out of the darkness somewhere in his office. One he had had many conversations with.
"Eavesdropping, my Lord? No, not eavesdropping, just curious."
"Curiosity can get you killed, you know."
The laughter was quiet and deadly : "Yes,I know my Lord, but since this 'project' involves me directly, I thought I had a right to know how it was progressing."
"It progresses very well; my men leave in........but you already know that...........don't you?"
"Yes my Lord, I do."
"Now the question is: can your people be ready in three days?"
"My people are ready now, my Lord. We've been ready."
"Yes, I can imagine so. I have one last matter I would like clarified for me, if you don't mind."
"Anything my Lord."
"Are you absolutely positive that Qeynos knows nothing of the girls' locations? I do not need my men running into an ambush. Bad for morale."
"Qeynos has no idea of their existance, much less their location. Of this, I am absolutely sure, my Lord."
"Qeynos has no way of finding out about them?"
"No my Lord; they don't have anyone with my, um, 'talent'."
"Ah, I see. And I am sure you would know if they did, correct?"
"Yes my Lord. I could sense them; just like I can the girls."
"They could also sense you then."
A long quiet silence before the voice continued. " Yes my Lord, they could."
The late afternoon light had left the sky and only the light from the Freeport lanterns and urns lighted the dismal goings on on the streets below. Lucan's office too was now completely devoid of light. A situation he found very comforting at times.
"My Lord, I wish to remind you of one more thing---a gentle reminder if you will. And then I will leave you to your thoughts."
" Continue."
" If, by some chance, we do not get the girls and they find their way to Qeynos......"
Lucan's fist came down on his desk----"We will get the girls!"
The voice became very soft and forboding. In a whisper now, it said, "I'm sure my Lord. But remember this; if we do not get them, they will become a thorn in Freeport's side. And yours. For the rest of their days."
