Dark Age Of Camelot: Staining

Chapter 9: Staining, Part 1

It was very dark in the tavern.

I was not familiar with this part of the Realm, here in the town of Huginfell, just over the border in West Svealand. I sort of ended up here after recent events and the satisfaction of more duties at the behest of my trainers.

I was tired, and the proprietor of the place was annoying me. Actually, most of the people here were bothering me, and I suppose it was because of the blank, casually predatorial way in which I was beginning to view all those possessed of life.

I broke from my musings to see the large norseman standing at my table. I knew he was not happy with having to walk over here and wait on a lone female, but I had come in and found this table, and I was not wanting to move again for awhile.

"What do you want, girl?" he asked, his mouth barely visible in the unkempt mane of yellow hair sprouting from his chin, "A glass of elvish wine?"

I cut my eyes slightly to the near table to see two gruff-looking men laughing low at how the proprietor had condescended to me. One of them saw me looking, but neither stopped chuckling. I saw with seeming preternatural clarity the clinging drops of mead on the fur about this one's lips, and I thought how much more beautiful it would be if he were spitting up his own precious blood.

"Do you have any troll whiskey hidden away back there, or is this simply a picnic for children?" I asked, looking back up at the bartender.

He stood there for a moment, and I think he thought of throwing me out, maybe even striking me, but then he seemed to glance over my form, noting the worn helm on the tabletop, the three axes I bore and the sharp throwing daggers. Instead, he walked away in silence to bring me my request.

I noticed it did not take him long to return with my request, and I was soon drowning myself in the large tankard of hideously tasting and wonderfully strong troll liquor. I wondered if I was punishing myself, and I wandered in memory over an irony that continued to plague me. I had dealt so much death, and I would deal so much more, but why was I most concered with my brief encounter with the Undead. But it was more than that - it was the final utterance of the Scout Argyle. I had found time to search, but I had yet to discover anything about this myserious 'Shai'.

"Staying in town tonight, lady?"

I looked over to realize the two men at the near table were addressing me. I thought they had been trying to get my attention for sometime, and I had only just come out of my muse. I wondered if I was becoming slack in my awareness, or if I felt no danger in this place, or perhaps even the whiskey was getting to me.

I spared them my eyes but for a moment, then I turned them back to the tavernkeeper. He looked right back at me, as though expecting my bid. I raised my mug a bit, and he got the implication.

"She drinks foul," said one to the other, and I supposed that since I was not replying to them, they felt it safe to speak of me while in my presence.

"She does not look foul," said the other, and he chuckled, then the same one turned again to me, "What is your name, pretty thing?"

I looked at him again, letting my eyes settle into his long enough to let him know that I was not in the least bit afraid. He had drunk enough that he did not seem to care.

"She must be a cold fish, Lywlf," said the other to his friend, "See how she tries to put fire back inside herself with that trollish whiskey?"

"I just want to know her name," he explained, then turned back to me, "Come one, girly, what is your name?"

"Nylithil."

I looked over in shock, because I had not uttered my name. I had been contemplating either draining my remaining drink and leaving or outright threatening the man, so he would shut up, but instead, I had an all new situation with which to deal.

The voice belonged to another young norsewoman, and she seemed garbed in the worn leather of one accomplished in the ways of death, and upon her back, she bore a large, two-handed great axe. Once she realized she had the attention of what few people were here, she continued to speak.

"She is a Shadowblade," she said, and the two men at the table seemed to change their expression at the realization of this knowledge.

I gave them little of my attention, though, as I continued to watch this other woman. She nodded, noting my scrutiny.

"Ja, you see one of your own," she said, "for I am also a Shadowblade, though it seems obvious you practice a different weapon style than my own."

The tavernkeeper sort of shifted his body further back into the darkness, trying to get some distance between himself and this lethal woman.

"My name is Fulnia, but I would not expect you to know it," she sneered, standing up from her stool and moving closer toward me, "I hear all about you, though, earning the masters' favor, always being called upon to perform the more difficult duties."

I had no idea about what she was talking, for I knew that in my limited time, I had not learned all there was yet to know about being a Shadowblade, so how could I have earned such noteriety, but then it hit me, because I could sense something in the way she moved and held herself - she was of a similar level as I, and so perhaps in the trifling battles of peers, she had heard of me, and she felt as though I stood in her way.

"Well, I am tired of being the shadow of a Shadowblade," she said, and it would have almost seemed funny, "and I am here now to show them all that I am just as good as you ... nei, even better."

I stood then. She was not yet close enough to do me any harm, but I was not going to take any chances.

"There is nothing between us, Fulnia, and there is no competition. I can see that you have experience in you, so it must be apparent that I do not stand in your way."

"A duel," she hissed, and I knew my words were useless, for her demeanor had changed from feline toxicity to outright brewing anger, "We will decide this now."

I had heard of duelling, how though it had once been prohibited, it was now allowed by the laws of the land. It was something of a controversy, though, something to which I hardly paid attention. I also thought there was to be some reason for engaging in duels, and I had heard that they were often without the intention of death, but I saw nothing but mortal anger shining in Fulnia's eyes.

"I do not accept your challenge," I said, knowing that at least I had publicly declared my lack of desire for the duel.

"I do not care," she replied, and in an instant she unhinged the large axe from her back and dropped into stealth.

I did not retrieve my own weapons, but I stepped back a few paces, knowing she could not yet be close enough to strike me. I am sure that to the patrons here, it appeared as though she had gone invisible, but I still had ways of seeing her, and I knew how she would use the shadows and such of this place.

"Fulnia, I do not want to fight you," I again declared.

The two men from the near table stood sharply and moved to the other side of the tavern, where the other few patrons had gathered in fear, though they had a lusty interest to see the outcome of this, I could tell. I also did not think they had stood because of Fulnia's stealthy passage near them, but only out of general fear.

"Then you will die," I heard a whispered voice, and I knew she had to be close.

I was counting on one thing, though. I knew that most assassins of our young learning had not yet trained much of stealth, for though it was a defining trait of being a Shadowblade, it was thought to be something unnecessary to concentrate on training until later in the curriculum. I had undergone more than the average training, so as I backed off toward other nearby shadows and engaged my own stealth which I hoped to be superior to Fulnia.

I saw her, then, and she did seem a ghost. She was somewhat close to where I had been, but I had moved away. I thought perhaps she could not see me, for she was turned the other direction, and my first instinct was to execute a backstab on her, but then I thought perhaps instead to simply avoid her and exit the tavern.

Then she turned, and I knew she saw me.

She lunged with her massive axe, and in the sudden movement of the attack, she appeared fully visible. Everything happened as though in a blinding flash of lightning, as I dodged away, relying on my deftness and faster weapons, and praying that the gigantic blade of that axe did not shear me in two. I moved around behind her, and it was then I did the thing I had thought of earlier, and I buried my blades in her back.

She grunted, stunned momentarily, and I twisted my wrists in that particular way, slicing through her organs. I do not think she expected me to be so fast, and I thought it ironic, for she had attacked me under pretext of being so good, of being so favored by the trainers, and here she collapsed to the ground with a look of shock on her face at discovering I actually was good at my trade.

I resheathed my own light hand axes, and went down to her. I saw that the crowd in here was getting upset, and it was only a matter of time before some burly jarls or sentries would show up, and I would have a lot of explaining to do. But I could not yet leave.

I held her in my arms, feeling the blood flowing in great profluence from the gaping wounds in her back. She looked up into my own eyes, and she smiled.

"I did not know," she said, and then she went into a short fit of coughing, "though I should have."

And just as I had been held in confusion the whole time since she uttered my name, I was still flabbergasted as to what all this meant, what she meant in her very words.

"I though of approaching you as a sister, but I was jealous," she choked on more of her own blood, then cleared her throat again, "I should have been patient."

"What are you talking about, Fulnia?" I finally had to ask, as I saw her pale skin growing even paler, and someone had left to fetch the very guards I knew would soon be coming.

She grinned again, and I found it almost maddening, but my exterior remained as cold-seeming as ever.

"I am dying now, Nylithil, you do not have to keep the secret from me anymore."

I tensed the muscles in my mouth to again ask what she meant, but I could tell she was still trying to speak.

"You already found her, and she has taught you. That is why you fight in such an unusual manner ... that is why you fight so well."

My brow betrayed nothing but total confusion.

"You found Shai."

And then Fulnia was dead.

Chapter 10: Staining, Part 2

I left there very quickly after that. I noticed a slight stumble to my step, and I knew the shock of the event coupled with the two large mugs of troll whiskey had gotten to me.

I moved away from the village, having used my stealthy skills again to escape. I made as much haste as possible, though, because I knew the guards would see right through me, unlike those buffoons making up the clientele of the tavern.

I crossed back into the tamer and quieter lands of East Svealand, and I found a nearby lake. I knew some creatures with mal intent lurked in this area, but I feared little of them. I stumbled to the edge of the lake, kneeling down in the wet, icey earth. I set my helm down on the ground, having never returned it to my head in all this time, and I splashed cold water on my face.

I sat there for awhile until I realized the fluid on my cheeks was not just from the water of the lake.

I had killed again.

And though it was in defense, it seemed to shake me moreso than all the others, except that one. And I knew what it was, what it was that was pulling at me more than the merciless killing, glistening up at me more than that red fluid of mortality that never dies, it was 'Shai'.

I did not think much anymore of my father. I did not think much anymore of Gorj. I had begun out of escape and vengeance, but I was realizing these petty, personal things meant little to nothing in the greater scope of the world.

So what did all of this mean?

I did not know.