Bevan: A Tale of Entropy

The grave sat alone on the hilltop overlooking the ocean below. Moss had long since claimed the worn piece of marble, climbing over it and covering it like a blanket, smothering the etched letters. The hand brushed the creeping plant away, revealing the name. Written in the old language, it took him a moment to translate it, so long had it been since the language rolled off his tongue. With the name of the deceased he wove the magic, and before him appeared a sphere of energy, with a vision through time held within.1

* * * *2

The lash of the slaver cracked in the air, herding the captured along faster. The line was comprised mostly of pathetic looking humans in tattered clothing, with a few elves and dwarfs appearing here and there. At the rear of the line, one particular figure stood out, nearing a full ten feet tall with a pair of horns sprouting from his head. Several of the black robbed slavers were pulling at the chains that held him, but the creature's strength was obviously too much. With a great heave one of the slavers was pulled within his grasp. One long fingered hand wrapped around the man's chest and lifted him into the air. The horned creature threw the slaver, the unfortunate man flying nearly fifty feet before crashing into the base of a tree, a mighty crack indicating the end of his spine.3

"Get him under control!" One of the slaver's yelled, the gold trimming of his robes indicating that he was the boss. The other's grunted in understanding, throwing more chains over the beast and holding it at bay with spears. After a few minutes struggling the beast finally stopped moving. Beneath the weight of the chains the creature's eyes could be seen staring out of the links, fire burning deep within them.4

"Yeesh, he's a stubborn one eh?" A weaselly looking man said to the slave master. "I thought minotaurs were s'posed to be bigger than that eh? More fur'n'all."5

"Its not a full blooded minotaur." The slavemaster said, running a hand over his bald head to wipe the sweat off. "He's got normal feet, minotaur have hooves. And your right, his entire body is supposed to be covered in fur. This ones just got himself a head of hair to match a lion's."6

"Wussa lion, Haffir?" The smaller man asked.7

"You weren't with us in the south, don't worry about it." Haffir answered. "But that one is a mighty fighter. I saw it fighting the Cultists when they landed on the island."8

"You was wittim, boss?"9

"Yes, Ille, I was. They asked me to come along to mark any beasts I saw fit for slavery. That one was the only one they left alive." Haffir spat onto the ground. "Took nearly two dozen of the cultists though, with those big swords o' his." The slave master gestured, indicating the two massive bastard swords that lay nearby on a pile of loot.10

"Oh... and that'd be his armor eh?" Ille asked, walking over and looking over a chest plate as large as he was.11

"Indeed." Haffir nodded. "He'll fetch a mighty price in the north, near a thousand coins I'd guess." 12

The weasel looking Ille nodded stupidly, until Haffir lifted the smaller man and held him face to face.13

"That means that he must be alive when we arrive to port, Ille, he will not become one of your sick play things." Haffir threatened.14

"Yes boss." Ille nodded, gulping. Let go, the weasel Ille skulked his way down to the line of slaves, inspecting each as they walked by. As the half-minotaur was led by him he could only marvel at the creature, moving as it was under what must have been hundreds of pounds of steel. With a roar and snort the creature took a step towards Ille, setting the earth moving with a mighty stomp. Ille scurried behind the nearest underling as they got it under control with chains and spears once more.15

Night came swiftly and the slavers set up a camp, the soft glow of cooking fire dotted the landscape. The slaves were all linked together and put into an area surrounded by guards, a thin soup and crusts of bread distributed among them.16

Caera had left her home not a month ago, looking to escape the smothering society of the elves for the more free world of men. Not a week after leaving she had been captured by the slavers and had marched halfway across the world since than. Now she sipped at the disgusting soup and broke her gums on the stale bread, pitying herself as she sat by the small fire the guards had allowed the slaves.17

The movement from underneath the nearby pile of chains startled her, but her shock only grew when she realized that there was someone underneath it. She inched closer, nearly jumping out of her skin when a hand landed on her shoulder. She was relieved, however, when she turned and saw the wrinkled face of Jebb, an older slave who had helped her since first she was captured.18

"Careful now. That there is a beast from the misty islands off the southern continent. A minotaur they call them. A beast who is man crossed with bull. Dangerous and deadly." He warned.19

"He's a slave like us, Jebb, and can be no dangerous than yourself covered in chains like that." Caera said.20

"Slaves like us don't need a ton of steel to hold us down." Jebb reasoned. But Caera ignored the older man, approaching the pile. Moving aside a few chains she gasped when her hand brushed across a horn as long as her arm, and backed away from the pile.21

"Please..." Came a muffled request from within the pile. Caera moved close again and pulled chains free until the head of the creature was free. She pushed aside a matte of sandy brown hair, from which the now two horns grew, and revealed a very human face. The man's nose was a little broader than a normal human's, with a definite bull look about it, and his canines were visible underneath his upper lip, but otherwise he appeared like any other man, except for his size.22

"Thank you." He gasped, taking in a deep breath of air.23

"What are you?" Caera asked without thinking. Jebb came up behind her and put his hands on her shoulders, steadying her.24

"My name is Bevan, thank you for asking." The man said with a wry smile. "And yes I'm very hungry if you could spare the crust." He continued, staring at the lump of bread Caera held. With a small nod she held it out, and he took it in his mouth chewing it easily and swallowing the whole in one mighty gulp. 25

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be rude, I've just never seen anything like you before." Caera apologized, sitting before Bevan. She pulled chains from him as best she could, the heavy links weighing more than she.26

"They didn't even tie these right." Jebb noted. "Just figured the weight would keep him down. Which they rightly should."27

"They got heavy after the fifteenth mile." Bevan confessed. "However I wouldn't say no to having them off of me."28

"And how would we know you wouldn't just eat us when we did, beast?" Jebb asked, ignoring Caera's protest. "You're a beast of the misty islands are you not?"29

"Jebb don't be heartless." Caera pleaded.30

"No, he's right to be afraid." Bevan said. "I give you my word upon the bones of my father that you have nothing to fear from me, old man."31

"And what value do I know you have for your father?" Jebb asked. "How am I to know you didn't kill him yourself?"32

"I swear to you than, by the bones of those who slew my father, that they will know the fury and righteous anger of the Strongbull clan for their dishonorable combat that claimed my father's life." Bevan growled, his voice dripping venom.33

"Good enough for me." Jebb shrugged, helping Caera pull the chains off him. It was a few hours work, but when they had pulled the majority of the heavy steel lines off him, Bevan stood with a mighty grunt and shook the rest free. It was only than that Jebb and Caera saw him in his full size, and gasped together at the sight. Standing near ten feet tall, with shoulders broad as a wagon and arms that reached past his knees, Bevan was an imposing sight. His chest was broad and muscular, his arms corded and thick, the body of a fighter obviously, covered in scars as it was. All he wore was the simple cloth pants of the slaves, although his was obviously several pairs stitched together.34

"Thank you." Bevan grunted, stretching out his aching limbs. His neck cracked and joints popped as he moved his body after being stuck under the chains for so long.35

He joined Caera and Jebb by the fire, sitting down cross-legged before the fire, and even sitting being as tall as either the elf or human was standing. 36

"How did you come into Haffir's grasp?" Jebb asked.37

"Haffir?" Bevan asked, staring into the flames.38

"The slave master." Caera shuddered. 39

"He tore me from my home." Bevan grunted, fire returning to his eyes. "The men came in robes with swords and dark magic, raping my land and killing my clan. Plundering the age old temples we swore to protect, burning our villages, and then slaughtering the young and old and women. And they sold me to the slavers, and I have sworn my revenge." He finished, anger pulsating from him.40

"Thats a helluva story." Jebb admitted. "They caught me drunk and stupid after losing all my gold on the horse races in the Imperial tracks east of here."41

"Bathing in a river." Caera spoke into her arms. "Bastards didn't even let me get dressed, they paraded me around like a dog." She said, her eyes tearing up. Jebb put a comforting arm around her. "So here I am, with you, Bevan, and Jebb, just waiting until we get back to civilization so we can be sold to the highest bidder."42

"These slavers are normal in these lands?" Bevan asked. "They are accepted?"43

"They are ignored." Jebb snarled. "The rich and pompous ignore the illegal slave trade because it keeps their mansions clean and harems full."44

"The kingdoms are too divided to unite against anything as petty as slavery." Caera sighed. "The dwarfs hide in their smithing and the elves ignore the world from their forests, too lost in the old ways to notice the new."45

"Then the world is as dark and horrible as my father warned me." Bevan said. "Not as they once were. They have lost their way."46

"Lost our way?" Jebb asked.47

"My father told me as his father told him, and his father before him, of my ancestor. A mighty warrior who helped brave warriors of the heavens vanquish an ancient evil. And yet, the world sank into darkness, the paladins going back to their kingdoms and their lands becoming corrupt." Bevan told them. "I didn't believe such tales until now."48

"Not all the world is as bad as that." Caera said, moving over beside Bevan. "There are good people as well."49

"That one however, is pure evil." Jebb said, sinking into the shadows, his manacles rattling. Bevan turned to wonder who Jebb spoke of, only to see Caera had disappeared as well. From outside the slave's camp came two guards escorting a thin rodent looking man, draped in black robes. He carried something covered in a velvet cloth, clasped between his claw like hands.50

"Who let you free?" The man asked nervously, the two guards moving forward with their spears extended.51

"The trees." Bevan grunted, looking down the spear points at the shaking guards holding them.52

"A smart one." The rattish man spat. "Perhaps we'd see how smart he is after an hour with me?" He laughed. "Many a slave sings a pretty song after I'm done with them."53

"You are a music maker than?" Bevan asked. "These would be your dancing monkeys I assume."54

"You mock me." The man bristled. "I am a servant to Lord Haffir, the greatest slaver in all the southern lands. You would do well to treat me with respect."55

"You are scum and not worth the dust on my feet." Bevan returned.56

"My lord, do not trouble yourself with this one. Fetch the elf the master wants." One of the guards said, holding his spear at Bevan's throat.57

"Very well." The man said. "Where is the elf, Caera?" He asked Bevan.58

"The name is not known to me." Bevan snarled.59

"Whatever you say, beast, the spirits will know." The ratlike man said, pulling the velvet cloth off the object he held, revealing a polished orb that was blood red and swirled with some inner power. He spoke a string of words of some ancient and dark language, and the orb surged to life. The howling of ghosts long dead whirled from the depths of the item, and a cloud of crimson apparitions appeared before the slaver.60

"Find the elf, Caera." He demanded of them.61

"Release us." They howled, to which the man responded by holding the orb aloft in his hands. 62

"I command the Orb of Damocles and thus your obedience!" he yelled. "Find the elf!" With tortured cries the spirits dispersed, flying in each direction. From behind Bevan, two pulled the struggling Caera to stand before the man.63

"Ille." She spat, the spittle running down his face.64

"Wench." He snarled, slapping her. Bevan stood in anger, only to be restrained by the ghosts. Ille ignored him. He ran a lecherous hand along her skin, letting his fingers dance across her chest. "Let us see what fun Haffir has planned for you." He laughed, the sound wretched.65

Bevan's blood boiled at the sight of the elf's abuse.66

"Release me, and see how a man like you would fare among my people." Bevan roared.67

"We are not among your people." Ille reminded him. "And I have no wish to visit the realm of the dead where we may find them. Take the elf to Haffir's tent." And the three departed, taking a protesting Caera with them. The spirits dispersed as Ille covered the orb once more.68

Bevan roared and charged after the departing guards, only to be stopped by the reappearance of the spirits.69

"We are bound to you, warrior." One of them, the gaunt figure of a man in armor, whispered into Bevan's ear. "It would be unwise to try and escape."70

"It pains us to see a kindred spirit suffer." Another of the ghosts moaned, its countenance that of a skeletal elf, its skin tight against its bones. "But we are cursed to obey he who holds the Orb of Damocles." Bevan stopped struggling against the spirits and sat down.71

"What have you done to be cursed so?" He asked.72

"We are doomed by our own sinful acts." The elf said. "For so wishful were we for power, that we sold our souls to the demon with the orb for the strength it gave us. And now our spirits serve it for eternity, to fulfill our debt."73

"They are damned." Jebb said, coming out from behind a nearby tree. "Cursed spirits that you would do well to disassociate yourself with. And now Caera is cursed as well..." He cried.74

"Cursed?" Bevan asked.75

"Haffir always calls to his quarters the most beautiful slave girls, who he plans to sell at next auction. It is his way of... sampling the merchandise before it sells." The old man spat.76

"A foul creature." The human ghost wailed.77

"No more foul than yourself, ghost." Jebb glared at the spirit.78

"What do you know, mortal? I sold my afterlife to the demon Damocles so that my family would know a better life." The man said, his face sad as he looked into the distance. "And here I am, after giving my life in battle for the foul demon, only to watch him betray me by cursing my family into sickness."79

Jebb looked at the ghost with pity in his eyes. 80

"I am sorry than." He said. "It is not my place to judge your choices." To which the spirit nodded its head in acceptance.81

"We must rescue Caera, and free ourselves from the slavers grasp." Bevan rumbled.82

"Bah, you're a daft one than." A nearby voice said. Bevan turned and saw a large number of slaves emerging from the nearby wood, where they had hidden from Ille and the guards. The speaker was a dwarf whose body wore the marks of many beatings.83

"Haffir has near a hundred men at his command, and we are only twenty. And each of them armed and armored. Are we to rebel with our chains and fists?" He spat.84

"Calm, Baldir." Jebb said to the dwarf. "Bevan speaks truth, we cannot let misfortune befall Caera, nor any more of our number. We must not let ourselves be sold into servitude." 85

"And we must act swiftly." Bevan said, standing.86

"You must calm as well." Jebb said to Bevan. "Haffir is not a fool, and he will not allow us to escape easily."87

"Warrior, a word." The elf spirit requested. "We are bound to the Orb..."88

"Of Damocles. Yes." Bevan finished.89

"But were he to no longer hold the orb..." The human said.90

"Than his hold over us would be no more." The elf continued.91

"Then you're plan is doomed." Baldir said, to which the other slaves agreed. "Ille holds the orb, and the only ones who get close to it are those he takes to his torture games, and those are never seen again."92

"We shall see." Bevan mumbled.93

The next day crept in on the slaves, dawn appearing on the horizon like a welcome visitor. The slaves were ushered and chained together and marched forward by the lash of the whip. Bevan was sent to the rear, where a dozen of the guards kept a constant spear tip to his throat. Caera was nowhere to be seen.94

"What have slaves done in the past to be tortured by Ille?" Bevan whispered to Jebb.95

"Anything that annoys him, it would seem." Jebb whispered back. "From looking at him oddly to sneezing in the marching line."96

"Than I shall have to annoy him." Bevan concluded. Bevan stepped on the feet of the guards around him, sank loud minotaur drinking songs, and slowed the marching line by stopping to rub his feet, ignoring the spears all around him. Finally Ille came down the line, fuming.97

"Haffir demands to know what slows his march!" The rattish man yelled.98

"Its this damned beast." The guards said. "He is as stubborn as..."99

"A bull?" Bevan offered.100

"Enough of this." Ille snarled. "The spirits will deal with him."101

The ghost of the human and elf appeared, standing beside Bevan. 102

"Master, you have ordered us to prevent the minotaur from escaping, not to tend to him like a nurse." The human said.103

"You obey me." Ille reminded them.104

"A great and noble master, who can surely handle one little prisoner." The elf wailed.105

Ille fumed at the insolence of the spirits. 106

"Than bring the prisoner to my tent, where I may deal with him." Ille spat.107

"Lord Ille, Master Haffir wishes the beast alive." A guard reminded him.108

"And he surely will be." Ille said. "Just that much more obedient and grateful for the life that he still holds." 109

The night came, and the guards came to drag Bevan to Ille's quarters. Within the makeshift room, they chained the half-minotaur to a wooden slate, leaving him. Ille entered sometime later, holding a cat-o-nine tails in his hand. 110

"I am not accustomed to being spoke down to by the scum of the earth." The man said, fingering the whip. "And will show you discipline." With a grunt he brought the whip to bear, and lashed Bevan chest, leaving a trail of bloody gashes. Bevan snarled at the pain.111

"Perhaps if you were a bit more civilized." Ille yelled, lashing Bevan once more. "And your people less barbaric." He cried with another lash. "They would not have fallen beneath the superior skills of man." He panted at the effort. He set the whip down and picked up a poker which had been sitting in a flaming brazier. It was than that Bevan saw the velvet covered orb, sitting near the doorway.112

"Let us see how a minotaur cries." Ille said, eying the red-hot tip of the poker.113

"Let us see how a man whimpers." Bevan snarled, with a flex of his arms the chains binding him snapped and he stood up, slapping the poker from the man's grasp.114

Ille shrank away from him. "Spirits, bind him!" He cried, at which the two ghosts appeared.115

"But Master, he has not attempted to escape." The elf said.116

"No, that is not his intention." The human moaned.117

"Back away. Back!" Ille whimpered. "My master is a mighty man, he can make you rich, beyond your imagination!"118

"So that I may be powerful, like yourself?" Bevan asked, towering over Ille.119

"Yes, powerful, and feared!" Ille said, clenching his fist. Bevan surged forward and picked up the diminutive man in his hands, holding him aloft. 120

"I fear no man." He snarled. With a mighty wrench he twisted the disgusting slaver, satisfied by the loud snap he knew to be the mans spine. With a grunt of disgust he threw the corpse aside. Striding over to the table, he lifted the velvet from the Orb and picked up the item.121

"I fear I know not the magic words with which to activate the Orb." Bevan said, examining the item.122

"It matters not, you hold it." The human spirit wailed. "We are yours to command."123

"Then return to the depths of the Orb, noble ghosts, and continue your eternal punishment somewhere else." Bevan commanded, to which the spirits nodded before becoming sucked into the orb. Setting the wretched item down, Bevan moved out the back of the tent, looking around the darkened camp. No guards were posted near Ille's tent, most likely due to some command given by the late slaver, which aided Bevan's escape.124

He stuck to the edge of the shadows, weaving in between the fires of the guards who slept underneath the night's sky.125

"The beast is surely dead." Baldir grumbled, poking at the ashes of his fire.126

"Not likely." Jebb said. "The beast is strong."127

"The beast is here." Bevan grunted, smiling at the sight of the two nearly jumping out their skins.128

"Bevan!" Jebb proclaimed. "You live."129

"And without the spirits haunt." Bevan nodded. "Now let us begin our escape."130

"With the dirt on our feet and our chains?" Baldir spat.131

"With these." Bevan grunted, setting down the poker and various other items he had found in Ille's tent. With a snort he snapped the chains binding each slave's feet. "And stalwart hearts. Have you the spirit to escape?"132

"Do you question the heart of a dwarf?" Baldir asked, standing. Which was echoed by several of the other dwarf slaves.133

"Leave no doubt." Bevan said, ducking back into the shadows. The slaves followed, and they moved among the sleeping guards, falling upon them silently. Each guard awoke to a blade in their throat, or strong hands clutched around their head before the sounds of their own broken necks filled their ears. It wasn't long before on of the guards on lookout saw what was happening and raised the alarm.134

"Let us earn our freedom!" Jebb yelled, rallying the slaves. There was a mighty roar as the slaves grabbed what weapons lay about them, and met the charging guards. Bevan used only his hands, the long and strong fingers more than a match for the humans' meager fighting skills. He smashed through a dozen guards, until he found the tent he was looking for. Held within were the spoils of the slavers' foul trade, the goods and treasures captured. And sitting atop the pile were his own blades and armor.135

Bevan emerged from the tent with the countenance of a war god, mighty blades the length of a man held in each arm, thick plates of armor strapped to his chest and arms. He set upon the guards like a scythe to wheat, making his way to the tent where Haffir rested his foul head. 136

The road to Haffir's quarters took him up a long hill, overlooking the camp. Below he could barely hear the rage of the slave's battle, and he stopped outside the tent, listening to what went on within.137

"This is the item that was so valued that you challenged the might of the minotaur?" He could hear the slaver ask an unknown figure.138

"This is the heart of a god, slaver, and you would do well to show some respect to it." The unknown man spoke, his voice like the hiss of a snake. Just than, far below, the guards began ringing a bell of warning, hoping to roust some final defense.139

"What was that?" The hissing man asked. Bevan took the initiative then, not wishing to lose what little surprise he had left, and slashed the tent open. Before him stood the bald Haffir, and another man clad in red robes with a silver eye inscribed upon the chest. "Who are you who interferes in the Destiny of the Kraken?" He demanded.140

"The reaper." Bevan answer, bringing his blades in a wide sweep, separating the man's head and upper body from the rest of his being. Haffir charged the half-minotaur warrior with a spear, only to be knocked aside by a sweep of Bevan's horns. He landed with a grunt at the far end of the tent. Bevan walked through to the second chamber of the tent, finding the pillows that made up the slaver's bed. Lashed to the poles of the bed were various slave women, one of whom was Caera. Bevan moved over to the abused slave girl, his horns tearing gaps in the tent above his head.141

"Wake, elf." He whispered, gently shaking the sleeping girl. Her eyelids fluttered, and the ice blue eyes peering through them.142

"Bevan?" She asked.143

"Silence, save your strength. We are free now." He said, helping her to her feet. She shook her head, dispelling the waves of weariness that assaulted her. Just as her eyes opened, they widened in fear, and she threw herself in front of Bevan's exposed back.144

"Caera?" Bevan asked, turning only to see the elf slump to the ground, clutching the spear shaft quivering from her chest. Standing at the entrance of the bedroom was Haffir, his bald head red with anger. 145

"Be...van...." Caera whimpered, a tear clutching the corner of her eye. With a final sigh she let out her life, falling to the ground.146

Rage pulled at Bevan's soul, throwing it into bloodlust. The slave master backed away, realizing he was defenseless. Bevan set upon him with his blades, ending the foul man's life. With a heavy heart he lifted the still form of Caera from the ground and carried her into the now early morning.147

Jebb was there waiting, clutching a bleeding shoulder. He deflated at the sight of Caera, and his eyes overflowed with sadness. Baldir poked a head into the tent before making a face and pinching his nose.148

"Did a job on him didn't you?" The dwarf said.149

"What happened?" Jebb asked, holding the Caera's head in his arms as Bevan set her down.150

"She..saved my life." Bevan said. Jebb cried over the body, and various other slaves who knew her all bowed their heads.151

"She knew freedom, for but a moment, but she knew it." Bevan said.152

They buried her on the hilltop where they had won their freedom, and burned the bodies of the slavers. Jebb stood on the hilltop aside Bevan, looking at Caera's grave and the sun rising beyond it.153

"Where do you go from here?" Jebb asked the giant.154

"I will go wherever I feel I must." Bevan said, his swords in their sheaths on his hips, his hands resting on their hilts. From a pouch on his waist, a pulse of energy hummed.155

"What is that?" Jebb asked, backing away from the object.156

"The heart of a god." Bevan said, turning away from the sun. "And it shall guide me to those who slew my clan." He finished walking away from the battlefield and the grave, into the world of men.157

* * * *158

The figure sent the sphere away with a wave of his hand, and the image before him faded. Standing, the dark robed elf looked at the ocean before him.159

"So this is the beast who slew you, my love." He whispered into the wind. And with a final glance at the grave, Nivalaein faded back into the woods, leaving the etched marble behind him.