Years of the Covenant: Part 1

The afternoon light had dimmed to an orange cast as dusk began to set in. Only glimpses of golden rays passed through the thick canopy branches as the forest grew thicker with every passing hour. Night was closing in, and the final destination was at least another day away.

Vannolyn had grown weary of these petty messenger and delivery jobs. It had been fifty years since he had parted ways with his past life. And still he remembered that day, watching as Alexian and Corrin parted ways with him, preparing to take the journey to find their own destiny. Alexian went east ... and Corrin west ...

He believed his brothers to be living the grand and glorious life that their father had always wished for them. However he felt that he just had not found his calling yet. It had left him feeling empty, incomplete ... a whole within his heart that couldn't be mended by the shere passing of time.

Vannolyn found himself pondering on this for hours, as dusk had faded to night. The shroud of darkness brought with it the sweet sounds of crickets chirping and nightowls hooting. He built a small fire by a small spring fed by a waterfall from the stream in the rocks overhead. Two pieces of dried meat and a half-loaf of bread was all that he had allowed left to him. It was a meager meal at best, but he didn't complain; for he knew that it could be far worst.

For a time he gazed into the fire, his gentle dark face gleaming in its flickering light. His features so gentle and kind, it seemed that nothing could take his innocent youth. And yet ... he was sad. A small tear escaped his eye, washing away the hidden pain deep within his troubled soul. He tucked himself away in his bed roll, and felt warmth of the fire upon his back, as he watched the starry night fade into the deep beauty of sleep.

Morning came with the gentle songs of early birds. It was beautiful morning indeed. A clear, crisp blue sky met him with the painted mosaic of a golden blended sunrise. Vannolyn stripped down and dove into the waterfall. The water was cold, but quite refreshing. His long white hair trailed against his wet and soaking body. He dried off and put on his tattered brown traveling clothes, he'd have to buy a new set at the next town.

He them pulled out his bradsword and the black legendary blade that had been given to him five decades ago. He saw point in cleaning them. He rarely fought, and found little need to touch the black one, for it never lost its sheen. But in any case it was a prized possession of his heritage lore, and would treat it with the reverence and respect it commanded.

An hour later Vannolyn was back on the path, and continued following that until brought him back to the edge of the forest, and back to the main road. The road was not as empty this day, as he did see the occasional peddler, farmer, and typical traveler. By high noon, the sun was beginning to bear down on the travelers' road. It was hotter than the average day, but he did take into account the region of where he was traveling; Bronzeheld was known for its obscenely hot climate.

The heat did nothing good for traveling time. By dusk he had only traveled three quarters the the expected distance he was to cover for the day. The message he carried to had to be delivered before noon tomorrow. Vannolyn would have to make up for his lost time in the night.

Unbeknownst to him, this simple attempt to save time would cost him dearly. It would cost him far more than he was willing pay ...

The darkness of this night was the same as any other, but something was unsettling this evening. There were no crickets, no owls, not even the hint of another living creature.

The road that Vannolyn had followed all that day split back into a path that led into the forest again, this time only deeper. Despite the eerie countenance of that evening, Vannolyn found himself moving even faster than before, perhaps he would even reach Bronzeheld before daybreak!

Meanwhile, only a mile up along the path, a black clad human garbed in close-fit clothing. It covered the whole of his body, even the face except for the eyes. He carried upon him strange weapons, thin curved swords. In one hand was one of the strange swords, and in the other was the head of a Bronzeheld noble.

Broken and bloody bodies were strewn about the path, the guards had been able to do nothing. The carriage wrecked against a tree, left in a burning heap.

The ninja bagged the head, and turned back towards the path. "All too easy. Did you find the documents?"

Four black-clad, ephemeral halflings appeared from the shadows as they searched the wreckage and all about the dead bodies. "Nothing here." one answered.

"Can't find anything either." Another answered, dropping a pile of broken wood planks by the carriage.

"Keep looking, Silious Roh demands those documents in hand!" The ninja said in frustration. The five of them continued looking in the silence until they heard a snap. It was sharp and loud, and the five of them instantly disappeared into the shadows.


Vannolyn was growning tired, it had been a long night and an even longer day. But still, it was the eerie silence that was wearing on him. He had been lost in thought, just keeping one foot in front of the other until he saw a light. It was a light on the path not far off in the distance.

He picked up the pace a bit, trying to find the source of this light. Vannolyn steadily kept increasing his speed until he found himself running towards the lit destination. His foot tripped and snapped a branch as he rounded the bend. What he found horrified him.

On the side of the path, wedged awkwardly between two trees, a once crimson and white painted carriage was left in smoldering coals, and trees were beginning to catch fire as well. As he walked closer he could see the carnage of the dead bodies. Dismembered bodies of guards were strewn all about, pools of blood gathered upon the path, blood smears pasted the trees all about. But what caught Vannolyn in terror, was the body of a noble ... a Bronzeheld noble. His heart skipped a beat as he lifted up the crest that hung about the decapitated neck ... it belonged to the house of Harkal.

Vannolyn reached into his pack, his hands trembling. The package he carried bore the same crest ... and the name Felch Harkal. If the fear had not set in enough, Vannolyn felt a sudden rift in the night about him. A cold wind gusted by snuffing out the fire and light.

Shadows moved all about, in spite their being no light ... Vannolyn knew he wasn't alone.

He quickly drew his broad sword, holding it in his right hand while his left hand hovered above his dagger. Shadows moved about him so quickly, they began to blur. A black ring of moving murky darkness just spun around him menacingly. Like a sixth sense, something urged him to move left and his sword backwards. He did exactly what he felt, and out of the haze swung a small black hand with a dark blade.

With one swing of his broadsword he cleaved the halfling in two, changing it from ghost and shadow, to flesh and blood. Fluently spinning about, he ripped the dagger from his belt and sent it soaring in the other direction. With the black ring twisting about him another dark halfling fell from the mass, the dagger imbedded in its forehead.

The black ring dissipated and three beings stepped forward, two other halflings and black-clad human. Vannolyn was shaking in his boots, who were these demons?

"You'll never get out of this alive." A menacing voice came from the human. With a waved of the human's hand, the two remaining halflings produced crossbows. The twines unhooked, and the two arrows were sent flying. One caught him in the right shoulder, the other in the lower left hip. Immediately, he tried to rush them, but his legs began to give out. Vannolyn fell to the ground, his vision fading and his body steadily going numb.

The dark human reached in his pack and took the package he was to deliver. "Sweet dreams drow." The human sneered. He snapped his fingers and the halflings lifted him up. His body seered in pain, as felt himself fade away ... and everything engulfed in shadow.