Post by NLV Plot on Nov 12, 2008 9:39:13 GMT -8
It wasn't long after King Cromwell had received his delivery that Duke Ginar Polinar Deralba and some of his most trusted 1st Regimental guard were on the move, out of the city of Soldrien and heading into the foothills in the northeast. The regimental guard were out in force in other parts of the capital city of the kingdom, and many 1st regiment, the strongest of the 6 regiments and the famed protectors of the king, were on full duty - attending to the palace and the activities therein.
On the road, the group of 15 were quickly making time, and could reach the secret grotto within 2 days, if they could keep the pace. Not one Guard there misunderstood their purpose, and the Duke himself pressed on after falling though a crevace and nearly losing his life upon a sharp piece of shale. He left behind a tattered shirt, healed himself on the run, and pressed.
Eventually, they had to stop, if only for an hour's rest. A fast fire was constructed, and they gathered about it. Rations were abundant, but no one wanted to overeat and cause a bad case of cramps.
One of the 1st Regimental guard, name of Samrin, spoke freely. The Guard knew the Duke held no pomp nor circumstance in these conditions.
"Your Grace - what are your thoughts?"
"I think it's another 4 hours stomp over heavy terrain, should be there by sun up."
"No, of the goings on in the King's court."
"I don't know - I suspect that there was a spy amongst us - and that he used that new cantrip."
"...and what of the crown?"
"That's what this trip will decide."
Chuckles and outright laughter broke the silence of the hillsides, and everyone smiled at the dryness of the Duke's response.
He was right though...
-----
Five hours later the group was approaching a waterhole nestled between several sharp rocks, standing 100 feet tall at their shortest. Next to the natural spring an entrance to a shallow cave could be seen from above. It was also clear that someone lived there.
As the group, lead by Duke Ginar Polinar Deralba decended into the cave, they could see the remains of a well tended fire, with embers hot but no fuel aflame. Around the cavern walls were drawings, paintings, and a mosaic made from natural stones and glass.
It was clear that someone lived here, and very clear to the 15 that they were no longer here.
"Now what your Grace?"
"Now Samrin, I'd say the crown is the least of our problems."
On the road, the group of 15 were quickly making time, and could reach the secret grotto within 2 days, if they could keep the pace. Not one Guard there misunderstood their purpose, and the Duke himself pressed on after falling though a crevace and nearly losing his life upon a sharp piece of shale. He left behind a tattered shirt, healed himself on the run, and pressed.
Eventually, they had to stop, if only for an hour's rest. A fast fire was constructed, and they gathered about it. Rations were abundant, but no one wanted to overeat and cause a bad case of cramps.
One of the 1st Regimental guard, name of Samrin, spoke freely. The Guard knew the Duke held no pomp nor circumstance in these conditions.
"Your Grace - what are your thoughts?"
"I think it's another 4 hours stomp over heavy terrain, should be there by sun up."
"No, of the goings on in the King's court."
"I don't know - I suspect that there was a spy amongst us - and that he used that new cantrip."
"...and what of the crown?"
"That's what this trip will decide."
Chuckles and outright laughter broke the silence of the hillsides, and everyone smiled at the dryness of the Duke's response.
He was right though...
-----
Five hours later the group was approaching a waterhole nestled between several sharp rocks, standing 100 feet tall at their shortest. Next to the natural spring an entrance to a shallow cave could be seen from above. It was also clear that someone lived there.
As the group, lead by Duke Ginar Polinar Deralba decended into the cave, they could see the remains of a well tended fire, with embers hot but no fuel aflame. Around the cavern walls were drawings, paintings, and a mosaic made from natural stones and glass.
It was clear that someone lived here, and very clear to the 15 that they were no longer here.
"Now what your Grace?"
"Now Samrin, I'd say the crown is the least of our problems."