Retribution [Book II, Chapter V: Prelude, Part IV]

[MassEditor]

It had been hours since Samarkand lost sight of the Black Spire forces tracking him. Night was descending on the swamp and Samarkand was desperately lost. The wound in his leg throbbed, blood still dripping from the badages. He had to stop.

Those clumsy fools have about as much luck finding me as I do of getting out of this swamp alive, Samarkand thought to himself. Besides, there are worse things roaming about when night falls in Nocturnus.

Samarkand stopped his horse in a small clearing a good ways off the path. He needed rest. He tried not to think about Hexana, her lifeless body no doubt desecrated by the Black Hand soldiers.

Hexana had been one of Nocturnus' best spies. Her death would be a serious blow to the Resistance. More poignantly, she and Samarkand were lovers. Their love grew even when they found themselves on opposite sides of the Civil War - that is, before Samarkand followed Anfaulglir into rebellion.

None of that mattered now. Suppressing his hatred and torment, Samarkand knew what he had to do: get the map to Shadowmere and the leaders of the Nocturnian Resistance. He did not know what the map pointed to, but he knew Anfauglir would.

Whatever it was, it must be very important to Raavage - it seemed as if half the Black Spires's army was looking for him.
Samarkand took a step and the pain from the arrow wound in his leg shot through him like a thunderbolt.  I've got to get out of this swamp, he thought. But how?

It was then that a faint glow caught Samarkand's eye. As his eyes adjusted to the falling light, Samarkand could see the shape of a small house in the darkness.

The light must be from a fireplace, he thought. There are a few who call this swamp home. Surely they can point me towards the road to Shadowmere.

Samarkand noticed a small path nearby that seemed to lead towards the house. He followed it until it reached the edge of a vast bog. The house appeared to be on a patch of land in the middle of the water. He found a small boat just off the path.

This must be how they travel back and forth, he thought.

Though Samarkand questioned its stability, the little boat stayed afloat as it ferried him across the bog. He slid the boat onto the bank and walked up the stone stairs leading to the door.

Samarkand knocked on the door. A moment later the door opened, just enough for Samarkand to see a small woman peering at him. She was an Orc and looked very old.

"A visitor? I hope you're not here for trouble. I'll have you know a powerful sorceress lives here and she does not take kindly to troublemakers!"

Samarkand put his hands out to gesture his peaceful intentions.

"I am just a weary traveller, wounded by a bandit and lost in these woods. I hoped you could point me towards the road to Shadowmere."

The little old woman looked him up and down. She muttered something and opened the door to let Samarkand in.

"Come in, come in. These lands are treacherous, it is wise of you to stop here."

Samarkand entered the home. It was small and smelled dank but a fire in the chimney looked as inviting as any he had seen in Nocturnus. "I thank you greatly. The powerful sorceress who resides here, will she mind my presence?"

The little old woman laughed. "Oh, I made that bit up to scare off troublemakers. It's all this old woman can do to defend herself."

She pulled a chair up to the fireplace. "These are dangerous times and you cannot trust everyone you meet. But I can see in your face that you do not seek trouble. Come sit down and enjoy the fire. It is too dangerous to travel now, I will show you the way in the morning."

Samarkand wanted to waste no time but he knew the old woman was right. He needed rest and to treat the wound left by the Black Spire arrow. The old woman disappeared into another room and left Samarkand by the fire. He took out the map and studied it. The strange markings were unrecognizable to him.

What could this point to, he thought. Hexana, you died for something I cannot even understand...

After a time the little old woman reappeared and shuffled to the kitchen, returning with a loaf of bread.

"Here, you should eat something. You will need your strength for the journey ahead!"

A strange comment, Samarkand thought. He cocked his head towards the old woman. "The road to Shadowmere, is it perilous?"

The old woman's mouth twisted into a grin, showing her stained and cracked teeth. He looked down at the loaf and began to cut off a piece. "All roads from this place are, but yours will be particularly difficult. For you have something that does not belong to you, and it must be returned to its rightful master."

Samarkand recoiled - maggots poured out of the loaf he had just cut. Though the fire still burned, a chill hit Samarkand and darkness began to consume the room. He looked up and the old woman had disappeared. A deep voice revealed the presence of another in the room.

"You pathetic thief. You thought you could steal from ME! Do you even realize the power you wield with that map? You are a fool like all the others who oppose my will."

A dense shadow rose before Samarkand, out of which appeared Lord Raavage himself. Samarkand reached for his sword but a force immediately lifted him and threw him across the room. "A mere mortal against the rightful ruler of Historica? Ha! The stupidity of your kind never ceases!"

Raavage loomed over Samarkand, who tried but failed to stand up. "With the map in my hands, Nocturnus is mine for the taking. After that, all of Historica."

Samarkand glared at Raavage. Still he could not move. "Raavage, you worm, you will fail. The resistance will banish you back to the hole you crawled out of!"

"You must be more ignorant than I thought. Wretched mortal, you have no idea what this map leads to, do you?"

Samarkand managed to lean himself against the wall. He knew Raavage would not let him leave the room alive. "Raavage, your cheap conjurer tricks are running low. The resistance grows stronger every day while your alliance crumbles to pieces."

Raavage's face snarled with fury. He placed his right boot against Samarkand's chest. Samarkand grimaced as several of his ribs broke from the weight.

"I should cut off your head right now for such insolent talk. But first I will tell you what this map leads to, so that the last thought which runs through your head is that of the destruction of your land and people. Even you have heard of the Helm of Elemental Magic. Victor Revolwood, a mere puppet in my service, nearly conquered Historica through use of the Helm. What you may not know is that the Helm was one of two vastly powerful artifacts crafted in ancient times. The Elemental Helm controlled the forces of water, earth, fire and air. The second, much more powerful helm controlled the forces of life and death. It is this artifact, the Necromancer's Helm, to which this map will lead me."

Samarkand could not believe it. The Necromancer's Helm was a story told to frighten unruly children. Rumors said its wearer possessed the ability to resurrect and command the dead. Such black magic was not unknown in Nocturnus - Necromancers had the power to raise the dead, but only temporarily and in limited numbers. The Necromancer's Helm, it was said, could raise permanent legions of the undead.

"Lies! The Necromancer's Helm is the substance of ancient stories, nothing more. Raavage, your thirst for power has rotted your mind."

Raavage laughed. He was tiring of this episode. "The Helm is real and will soon be mine, thanks to you. With its power I will bring Historica to its knees. It's a shame you will not see what I am capable of once I'm in possession of the Helm. But you have already wasted too much of my time."

Raavage withdrew a dagger from his belt and plunged it into Samarkand's chest. Raavage closed in, just inches from Samarkand's face. "Die knowing that all you treasure will be consumed by the Black Spire."

Samarkand tried to speak but the words would not leave his mouth. Blood oozed from the dagger wound and his eyes began to fade. As darkness enveloped him, Samarkand managed to feel at peace for the first time in ages. His thoughts escaped from Raavage and turned to the one thing he had ever truly loved. The word slipped from his mouth when no others would - "Hexana."

 

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For those who might need a refresher on Samarkand and how he acquired the map, see here!

 

Extra pics of the hut, with fog!

Edited November 16, 2016 by MassEditor

[en_zoo]

really nice shots and awesome story! ^^

and oh my.. this Raavage fella really is a bad guy after all.. !

[Blufiji]

So Im loving this story so far, Im happy Samarkand is at peace and with his love.  The fog effect is excellent as always!

[Henjin_Quilones]

Ahh, so epic! I love this. The fog is terrific, though I am somewhat sad that it obscured the old house. Looks great, but now I am terrified for all of Historica. How can any of us sleep in our beds tonight knowing that Raavage is on the brink of recovering a relic of such power? 

[The Architect]

The story is getting better and better  I love your use of lighting for the windows and the fire place, and the cottage as a whole!

[TitusV]

The story and accompanying images make for an awesome read! Looking forward to the next chapter!

[Niku]

Alright ME how do you deliver one impressive moc after another one, you have a moc machine or something?
Seriously this one delivers, between the narration and the shot of the hut entrance with a boat it creates a sensation of unexpected turn of favorable events yet you are cautious and don't know where the trap is going to catch, then it comes the twist and well the ending of Samarkand is a tragic one, I hope he can be avenged.
I have to ask how does Raavage transformed? has a potion? glamour spell?
Great as always.
 

[LordDan]

Incredible swamp landscape and building! The story here was definitely the most captivating so far, and even more so when I realized that this tied in with your previous build from 2 years ago! 

[Puvel]

Just read up on the stories, they're all very captivating! The lights and fog in the pics look excellent and the builds themselves are simply amazing!

Definitely looking forward to participating in this chapter

 

[soccerkid6]

Nasty trickses! Doesn't look good for Historica.

The builds themselves look amazing though Really nice fire effect

[Gideon]

Great story, you are really setting things up nicely for the challenge!
Very well illustrated too, you are using those light and smoke effects very effectively
(The third picture doesn't show to me however, wrong flickr permissions on it? I can however click it and ge to the full sized version on flickr both logged in an not logged in.)

[MassEditor]

Thanks everyone!

@Henjin_Quilones
Thanks Henjin! Good to be worried, the Dark Lord is one bad hombre! I added a lighter overall pic, hopefully the details will stand out a little better.

@Niku
Haha, really glad you're enjoying it my friend! No moc machine, just a lot of used up sick and vacation days! Actually, I had this (and several other of these builds) built earlier this year and even in late 2015. They've been collecting some serious dust! You know Raavage, he is just good like that!

@LordDan
Thanks, quite the intermission!

@Gideon
Thanks! Have to admit, I probably took around 200 photos (many with the wife helping by blowing the fog in a certain direction) to get two or three good ones. The smoke really plays tricks with the lighting.Also, thanks for pointing out that problem!

[Exetrius]

This is an outright masterpiece! I just cannot express in words how much I like the shot of the outside of the house, with the faint glow of the fireplace coming from behind the windows; the twilight; the fog; the terrain, the boat ashore.. every single thing!  

And the story... oh my! This is fantastic, awesome stuff!