Ion's History

Background

The Calbour Shadow is a high fantasy world where magic and magical creatures are prevalent. Humanity is neither the dominant nor most numerous race although the interior of the human kingdoms are rarely troubled by monsters or darkling (orc, ogre, troll, drakken, etc.) incursions. The kingdom of Calbour covers an area of approximately 50,000 square miles, the population approaches 1 million people, the government is Feudal with a strong central monarchy. Time flows three times more quickly here than in Amber. The Barony of Stillriver is on the eastern border of the Kingdom, adjacent to the Grey Forest and Daggerwall mountains, in an area known as the Shadow Marches. The peace enjoyed by the interior fiefs is maintained through the vigilance and arms of the border lords. Stillriver also benefits as the first point of call for the Daggerwall Dwarven traders. Many adventurers also set out from here for the ruins and rumored riches of the ancient Kingdom of Delonarch, that once streached from the west coast of Calbour to well beyond the Daggerwall range. Ion received the education and training of a Baron‘s son, although his aptitude for magic never translated into practical ability he excelled in weaponry, strategy and tactics. Ion‘s inability to master wizardry puzzled his instructors as his aura indicated a very strong affinity for magic. As any competent magical practitioner who gazed at Ion would see this and assume Ion to be a powerful wizard he received comprehensive training in magical theory, practice and mental discipline. This to enable him to recognize spell casters/castings, resist invasive magic and react quickly enough to disrupt hostile magical assaults. Ion‘s martial training was far more promising; his intuitive sense of what opponents were likely to do coupled with extraordinary agility and reflexes quickly outstripped the ability of his weapon masters. On his 18th birthday he was knighted by the Duke of Hungst, Warden of the Shadow Marches and spent the next 9 years as a member of the Duke‘s Guard, leading troops in offensive and defensive operations against the denizens of the Grey Forest. At the age of 27 the Duke granted title to the Gate Keep and surrounding lands to Ion. The Gate Keep (actually a 30m tower, 10m in diameter constructed from a magical black stone by a sorcerer in the distant past) commanded the old northern road into the Shadow Marches. It lay in lands left abandoned for generations as the Grey Forest advanced into formally cultivated lands. The success of Calbour‘s arms in driving the Darkling‘s back during the last decade gave the Duke hope of re-opening trade with the human and elven settlements beyond the northern reach of the Daggerwalls. The keep had been sealed for over 200 years and was widely rumoured to be the haunt of a demon Lord. The title was thus dependent on Ion‘s ability to reclaim this fortress. 10,000 acres [mostly new growth forest] a powerful keep with magical defenses and the northern trade road [if re-opened] would see Sir Ion well on the way to establishing himself as one of the Kingdom‘s border Lords. *** I accepted the challenge. Riding home in early November, the afternoon sun keeping the day pleasantly warm, I reflected upon the changes nine years of prosperity had wrought within the walled town, city really, of Stillriver. The place had expanded well beyond the old town wall on both sides of the river, grand houses climbed the hill to the foot of Castle Stillriver, new businesses, warehouses and shops had totally transformed the old town center and dock area. The old open-air market was now a manicured park surrounded by town houses on 3 sides and bordering the river to the west. Merchant houses from the capital and half a dozen inner kingdoms vied with each other for the dwarven trade and local merchants displayed wares to rival their counterparts in the capital. The city‘s new wall project, commenced when I was a lad had been abandoned in favour of a far grander fortification encircling the castle and city on both sides of the river. Whilst construction on the western bank was complete I estimated that some years of work were outstanding on the east bank walls. No doubt the city would expand beyond them before they were completed. Despite the personal space provided by Spout, my warmount, the sun had dropped behind the Daggerwalls before I reached the gatehouse of Castle Stillriver. Though I failed to recognize any of the soldiers they waved me through to the inner keep where old Nicolai, the steward, waited to greet me and escort me inside. Handing Spout off to the master of stables I followed Nicolai up the broad stairwell into the castle proper. Nicolai updated me on the latest family news; my cousin Ivan, heir to the fief, was in Calbour city and now commanded a guards regiment of heavy cavalry; his sister Fiona was now married to Sir Peter, a nephew of our Duke, and they also lived in the capital on the rents from his estate; my youngest cousin Lucinda was married to Sir Alex, one of the Baron‘s liege-men, and had two boys aged 4 and 2. The Baron and Lady Alice were in the city, being entertained at a ball hosted by a Hygartian merchant prince. I would no doubt see them tomorrow. I freshened up and dined with Nocolai in the library where we swapped stories on border skirmishes, the barony‘s development and old friends. Later I toured the castle, recalling old memories, mostly good, and introducing myself to the staff and guards. Whilst the castle no longer felt like home I was comfortable here and not being on duty, more relaxed than in some time. The next six weeks passed very quickly for me, Sir Michael and Lady Alice seemed delighted to have me home for a while, the Baron had convinced me that a troop of archers and men-at-arms would be worse than useless in securing Gate Keep, or the Dark Tower as it was locally known. Instead I was to recruit a party of specialists — well versed in magic, traps and curses — far more useful in bringing the Keep under my control then veteran soldiers, Sir Michael assured me. Once I‘d explained my requirements to the masters of the local mage and warrior guilds I spent my time hunting and partying with friends old and new, reviewing all the information available on Gate Keep and it‘s former master, and interviewing the odd adventurer. By mid December snow had closed the trade routes, game was scarce, the party scene no longer held the same attraction and I‘d decided upon my companions. Yvette a young Sorceress, her partner Rienador a Runemaster and Petrov an ”expert treasure finder• with a basic grounding in power word magic. We agreed to evenly divide any portable treasure found; 20% each and 20% to the crown in tax. I purchased four wardrakes (diminutive and unintelligent cousins of true dragons, around 15m from nose to tale and capable of flight whilst carrying a burden of up to 500 kg) and we agreed to set out on the 40 league journey 5 days before the Yule celebrations. We fully expected to unravel the Gate Keeps traps and secrets in time to return to Stillriver for Yule. In the pre-dawn on the day of my departure Lord Stillriver invited me down to the treasury chamber, beneath the cellars. The corridor and doorway were warded with a layered series of alarm and offensive spells, symbols and runes flowed through the stone of the doorway, walls, floor and ceiling in an inter-linked wavelike pattern. I murmured a short thanks to master Balathon for opening my eyes to the world of magic, as a youth I‘d been unable to perceive enchantments of any form. The Baron placed his palm on the right door and spoke the words of entry, causing the rune currents within the doors to flow aside to the walls and the stone portals to swing inward. We passed northward through the entry corridor and another portal to a well-lit circular room with three new portals in the western, northern and eastern walls. Racked in the center of the room was a full suit of dwarven mithril armour; small inter-linked scales over a silk-like padding, and a long sword, also of mithril. As I examined these items my step-father explained that he‘d ordered the armour and sword for me last summer. By law the estate of Stillriver and everything therein would pass to my cousin Ivan, however the Baron could expend his treasure as he desired during his life. The sword; Foudroyant, bore enchantments for protection, power and battle. It was capable of penetrating the defences of the most powerful demons and sorcerers or penetrating the best steal plate. Together with the armour I was looking at an investment equal to the cost of constructing castle Stillriver. We returned to the inner bailey where I bid farewell to Lady Alice and departed with my companions. As always, once we‘d ascended through the snow clouds to 2,000m I found the flight magical. Brilliant sunlight reflected from the snow-capped Daggerwalls and the cloud tops below us. The sub-zero crystalline air was exhilarating without freezing, thanks to Yvette‘s warmth spells [a luxury no soldier would indulge in as active spells are a beacon for hostile magic users] and my wardrake maintained a seemingly effortless flight at three times the speed of a galloping horse. Two hours later we descended below the clouds to search for the old northern road and Dark Tower, as my new friends insisted on labeling the Keep. We released the Drakes to hunt in a clearing below the tower after Rienador inscribed a compulsion for them to return here at dawn each day. I trusted we were far enough west of settled lands to spare the duke‘s flocks, and shepherds for that matter, from our drakes. No snow, ice or water marred the black roadway leading from the old northern road to the tower despite meter deep drifts and continually falling snow. The road felt more like wood than the black rock it appeared to be, not a sound escaped from our footfalls and it stretched unbroken to the edge of the Keep‘s moat, as though a river of lava 3m wide had been channeled down the hill side. The tower also seemed otherworldly, rising from the center of the 20m wide moat it appeared to emerge from the depths rather than stand on the hill‘s crest. The cylinder‘s 10m-diameter wall rose sheer from the water 33m to crenellated battlements, within the battlements another cylinder, perhaps 6m in diameter rose 5m and was domed by a hemisphere of the same black stone as the rest of the tower. On the right of the road at the moat‘s edge stood a statue of a monk, right hand on his left breast and left hand extending a book with a circular depression in the center of the top cover. Opposite the monk a statue of a Talos demon stood en guarde, swords in hand. No drawbridge or facility to raise or lower it was in evidence. Nine steps led from the water to massive double doors. The upper 10m of the tower contained regularly spaced depressions that may have been sealed or shuttered windows. We circled the tower through the deep snow, to the east a stream flowed from the moat to the edge of the hill and fell 100m down a cliff into a large pool that in turn fed a stream meandering off into the forest. How the moat could generate such a volume of water I left to the mages to ponder. To the north and south the hill sloped down towards the forest. To the west lay the black road we‘d ascended to the tower. By this time Yvette and Reinador had surmised that the depression in the monk‘s book was the receptacle for the tower‘s key. Unfortunately the key provided to me by the Duke was of the standard enormous door lock variety and proved useless. We resolved to ignore the monk (and possibility of activating the guardian demon), cross the moat and try my key on the front doors. The water-walking and fly spells Yvette cast on us failed as we crossed the edge of the moat resulting in one wet and very unhappy mage. Petrov therefore volunteered to swim to the steps with a safety line of spider silk rope held by myself. The moat monsters must have been sensibly hibernating as we all crossed safely, conjured a fire and changed into dry clothes. My key appeared to be the correct size and shape for the main tower doors. Although Petrov discovered no mundane traps all three of my companions were convinced that the doors contained numerous link spells. What they could not determine was the effect of my inserting and turning the key. It may open the doors without triggering any spells, it may disarm defensive spells and trigger an unlocking spell, or it may trigger all the defensive spells. We discussed re-crossing the moat and having Reinador activate the link spells from the other side with a burst of magical energy, however this would almost certainly activate powerful defensive spells and no one was keen to face the freezing water again. I donned my armour, drew my sword and turned the key. The lock clicked, heavy clockwork mechanisms began turning behind the walls and the great doors swung outwards as I removed the key. Petrov was across the threshold in a flash, I turned to wave Yvette and Reinador through in time to see the moat waters swirling and a look of horror descend on Yvette. Reinador shouted ”elemental•, scribed a fiery rune of warding in the air and dragged Yvette back through the entrance. As soon as they were clear I threw all my strength into closing the doors, slamming them back into position just before a 20‘ being of water reached the steps. As I stepped back from the doors I was very relieved to see channels of magical energy once more flowing through the portals, sealing us in and more importantly; the elemental out. We moved through the wall and another doorway into the tower‘s ground floor; a chamber 7m in diameter with a 2m wide stairway ascending the wall clockwise through the 3m high ceiling and another descending counter clockwise. The chamber contained 9 suits of full plate armour with halberds, swords, maces & currents of magic. Closets still held fine overcoats, boot racks, a fireplace, wood pile and close to the northern wall; a magic circle. The air was fresh and warm, there was no dust and no indication of decay or neglect. Following a brief rest & discussion we agreed to explore the lower levels, then all of the upper floors prior to deciding where to spend the night. Below the entrance level we discovered pantries and cellars stocked with food & wine, again no decay was evident; although it was common to cast preservation spells to keep food fresh through winter it was unheard of to invest the power required in spells to maintain food for centuries. A fountain of fresh water bubbled in the center of the second floor down and bulk food stocks lined the walls. The third level down was devoted to weapons and armour sufficient to equip at least 200 troops and thousands of arrows and bolts. The fourth lower level opened into a corridor which exceeded the bounds of the tower above and included rows of cells, bunk rooms, a kitchen, wood, metal and leather working rooms and a secret passage which descended through the hill to emerge behind the waterfall‘s curtain at the base of the hill. Ascending to the upper levels we found a magic circle on each level identical to the one on the ground floor. The number of magical armed and armoured suits increased to 99. Level 1 was a kitchen and receiving room. 2 compact living quarters. 3 a grand dining room. 4 an alchemical laboratory. 5 an office and magical work room; 6 a library; 7 & 8 very finely appointed living quarters with the first windows we‘d discovered, the shutters operated effortlessly with a lever. On the 9th floor we found the Sorcerer‘s apartments and a doorway we were unable to penetrate which we assumed protected the Keep‘s treasures. From here we were able to ascend to the main tower‘s battlements or to the domed tower surmounting the Keep. Within the domed tower we found the Sorcerer and the Demon Lord. The actual dome was transparent from the interior, showing us the night‘s dark cloud base and snow flakes descending towards the 4m diameter room. Set on the surface of a 0.5m square stone in the center of the floor was a multifaceted spherical gem 5 cm in diameter. It resembled a blue-white diamond and pulsed with visible white light once per second. Above the stone on a circular metal rail reclined a heavily upholstered black leather chair with foot and arm rests. Slumped against the eastern wall was a middle-aged man in black robes, richly embroidered with gold thread. The right side of his chest was caved in, 3 or 4 liters of fresh blood covered his robes and the floor, his left hand clutched a 2 cm gem, set in gold attached to a gold chain around his neck. The gem pulsed in time with the diamond in the room‘s center. Within the depths of the gem in his hand a small gold key rotated slowly. He appeared to have died a few minutes ago rather than the two centuries that had actually passed since the tower was sealed. The demon was humanoid; tall, slender, pale of skin, long blond hair, pupil-less blood red eyes, and fangs in place of incisors. It was also garbed in black robes with a gold-clasped black cloak about it‘s shoulders. It stood frozen within a pulsing field of light projected from the central diamond, glaring and fingers outstretched towards the Sorcerer. Fangs, eyes and attitude aside it could have passed for a beautiful woman. I launched Foudroyant towards its throat in a powerful cut intended to decapitate it. The blow glanced off the light field encompassing it. Reinador posited that the large diamond was actually a Castle Gem a very rare artifact designed to protect and sustain a building. The only other such gem know to us protected the royal palace of Calbour. The smaller stone held by the Sorcerer would be the keystone through which the Castle Gem‘s powers were directed. In theory the Keystone holder should be able to command destructive magic from the Castle Gem sufficient to destroy the demon. Presumably, once mortally wounded the sorcerer was only able to channel enough energy to entrap the demon. We decided to tackle the Demon problem tomorrow at noon. Yvette would attempt to take control of the Gem‘s powers, if the Demon escaped during the process my sword, Petrov‘s daggers and Reinador‘s rune-craft would be plan B. Noon failed to bring the brilliant sunshine we‘d been hoping for, snow continued to fall. However this was the time the powers of darkness were at their weakest. Yvette removed the Keystone from the dead grasp and gazed into it‘s depths. She appeared to enter a trance state, the Gem‘s pulsing slowed, then stopped. Petrov thrust his left dagger up towards the Demon‘s heart and his right at it‘s throat, both struck solidly but did not penetrate as expected. A thin line of blood was the only tangible result. As Reinador activated his first Rune the Demon backhanded Petrov in the chest, sending him crashing into me and knocking us both to the floor. Flames leapt from the Rune towards the Demon then dispersed into nothing within a few centimeters of it. I rolled from beneath Petrov to my feet as the Demon uttered words of Power and a green beam sprang from it‘s fingers towards Reinador. Another Rune flared to brilliance, forming a ghostly shield between Reinador and the green ray. The ray seemed to expend most of it‘s energy penetrating the shield, the remains ignited his clothing, seared his flesh and dropped him, screaming, to the floor. As I advanced the Demon drew a slender golden rod, less than a meter in length, and leaping forward swung it at my head. Having already experienced it‘s strength through the ”Petrov missile• I swayed my head back from the wand‘s reach, then smashed it from the Demon‘s hand with a cross-cut. Reversing the stroke I sliced Foudroyant across it‘s abdomen, inflicting significantly more damage than Petrov‘s daggers, feinted for it‘s eyes and found myself moving in slow motion as my gaze met those red eyes. My thrust for her heart appeared to be moving at snail pace as her will crashed against my mind. I could see nothing other than her glowing eyes and feel nothing other than a compulsion to freeze, yet still my sword inched towards her heart, as it touched her breast I heard words within my mind say; ”you are not mortal, man, we will meet again•. She then faded into smoke and drifted through the tower wall. I felt fatigued, as though I‘d run 10 leagues in heavy armour. No sign of the Demon remained. Both Petrov and Reinador made full recoveries. During the next five years we continued to work as a team, searching for clues to the Demon‘s identity and/or location as well as adventuring in the Daggerwalls and beyond. As time progressed I found my proficiency with Foudroyant had increased to a level that was frightening. No sword-master within the Kingdom could threaten me. The demons summoned by Darkling Sorcerers were not strong, fast or skilled enough to threaten me physically, their magic also proved less effective as time passed. When serving with the Dukes forces in defence of the border settlements I now avoided melee, assuming the role of a senior commander directing forces from the rear ranks. I was afraid the troops and my friends might see me as other than human, for the words of the Demon would not leave my mind: ”You are not mortal•.