The March of the Rose - Cover

The March of the Rose

Copyright© 2014 by R22CoolGuy

Chapter 6

The Dragon Back Mountains, overlooking the Central Plains, approximately halfway between the city-state of Creton and the once high-city of Aithen, Andor. Current time.

Within one of the many faces on the central range of the Dragon Back Mountains was an old abbey, the facade of which was built right into the cliffside, and was home to an order of holy men. This particular order had been established toward the middle of the second age, and was originally dedicated to reflection and silent supplication before The Lord. It was called the 'Order of Saint Michael', and was a sequestered order of monks, led by an elected Abbot.

The original site of the monastery had been expanded over the years, eventually adding separate living and training areas for the monks, when the direction of their order change from passive reflection to the active preservation of the faithful. With the change in direction the name was changed to the 'Order of the Sword of Saint Michael', and the monks added an additional tier of brothers called warrior-monks, better known as 'Paladins of the Light'.

At the base of the mountain, situated in the foothills was a common house, accessed by a single road, in and out. It was a small building established far below the abbey, where food and other donations were left as offerings. It was also a place for the potential initiates to come and wait for possible selection, although the monastery's numbers were fixed and new members were only accepted when a brother passed on, or left the monastery. In the upper most section of the abbey was a large horn which when blown announced the need for new initiates. The horn could be heard for many miles, and the number of times that the horn was blown indicated the number of places needing to be filled.

The abbey itself could still be seen from the lowlands surrounding the foothills, well, the front facade at least, for the main part of the abbey as well as all of the rest of the monastery was built into the mountain and accessed from tunnels and walkways hidden from view.

The monks, when not training, gathered as a group four times a day; morning prime and evening vespers for communal prayer in the chapel, and mid-morning and late afternoon for the breaking of bread in the refectory. They were in the chapel for vespers when a bright light appeared above the altar. The monks all looked on in shock, for it had been almost a millennium since they had received a visitation.

"Peace be with you," a voice from within the light declared. "I have grave news, that which is called the 'Fist of Satan' has been let loose upon the world. The Black Rider has risen and has taken up the sword. The faithful are threatened and a stop gap is needed. Send out four of your best to delay the Black Rider."

"Where does this plague originate from?" Brother Thomas, the current Abbot, humbly asked.

"Northeast of here and heading south-southwest through the mountains," the voice replied. "You will know him by the evil of his passing."

"It will be as you decree, oh spirit," Brother Thomas declared. "They will leave at once, Glory be unto The Lord!"

"Glory be unto The Lord, and to his messengers as well!" the brothers sang out.

The white light faded from view as Brother Thomas turned to the assembled monks.

"Brothers Artemus, Daniel, Vincent, and William, prepare yourselves this night, you leave on the morrow," Brother Thomas announced. "Brother Jonathan, please blow the horn four times."

"My brothers, we will need to spend this night in prayer and supplication, for those we send out will have a hard road and will need our aid."

As the names were called out each monk stood and bowed his head, and when the last name was called they turned as a unit and left the sanctuary. They passed though the cloister, and entered the oratory, where the four men prostrated themselves before an altar and began their cleansing rituals.

An altar which held a golden chalice.


A small village to the north of the city of Rockyvale in the Eastern Realm, Andor, east of the Thangdaemon Forest, Andor. Current time.

"My Lord, it is the hour at which you commanded to be awakened," a lovely voice whispered in his ear. "I have your bath ready."

"It is, High Lord, my lovely little peasant girl," Neelam replied as he slowly stirred and stretched in his luxuriously soft bed.

"Not quite yet, My Lord," Gor reminded him mentally. "But soon, very soon."

Neelam rolled over and sat up, looking at his personal chamber maid. Gor had been correct, the village was easy to subjugate once the Elder and Sheriff had been dealt with. In the two weeks since, he had moved into the inn, taking over the best room, and demoting the late innkeeper's wife to scullery maid. He found this little treasure and two others when he had called a village wide meeting to explain the shift of power.

He stood up and casually walked over to the tub where the maid was waiting, he then stepped in and settled down into the water. He closed his eyes and relaxed as she bathed him, thinking about the upcoming day. Neelam planned to escort the tribute wagon to Rockyvale and take control of that city. He planned to move there and was toying with the idea of bringing his servants, or possibly recruiting new ones from the populace of Rockyvale. A knock on the door interrupted his silent musings.

"Enter," Neelam commanded, as he stood from the tub.

The door opened, revealing the ex-village elder, Master Samuel, who entered the room as Neelam's servant began drying him off. Neelam slowly turned toward the elder and smiled.

"Yes?" Neelam commanded.

"The wagon is ready, my lord," Master Samuel announced, bowing low.

"Excellent," Neelam replied. "I am glad that you are here. I have decided to reinstate you to your previous post as village elder. You will report to me in Rockyvale. Have the villagers and the sheriff waiting when I leave the inn."

"Thank you, my lord, you will not regret it," the old man gushed.

"See to it that I do not," Neelam replied and then waved his hand dismissively. "Leave now."

Master Samuel bowed while backing out of the room, and then closed the door. Neelam finished dressing for the day, and after buckling on Gor, he dismissed the servant girl and left the room in search of breakfast. The cook had anticipated Neelam's desires and had food laid out at his personal table. After eating he thanked the cook for her thoughtfulness and left the inn where he found his horse saddled and the tribute wagon standing by.

"I am relocating to Rockyvale so Master Samuel has been reinstated to his old position as Elder. I would like to say that my time here has been pleasant, but that would be a lie. I expect a full portion every time the tribute wagon pulls out or I will return to inquire why. You do not want me to return."

With that pronunciation, Neelam swung up into the saddle and signaled the wagon master to pull out. He nudged his horse forward and fell in behind the wagon and its security detail, which consisted of four mounted guardsmen and two others riding in the wagon. The trip to Rockyvale would take them about six hours, and they would be traveling south-southwest on the main road from the village and the larger city of Rockyvale. Just like the trip to Neelam's village, Gor spent the entire trip whispering in Neelam's ear.


The Barony of Rockyvale was the larger of the two city-states that encompassed the territory east of the Thangdaemon Forest. The area under its protection included all of the lands, and villages, south of the Dragon Back Mountains to a line about a days travel by horse south of the city proper. The area was originally a barony until the end of the reign of the High King when it was established as a city-state. Rockyvale's ruler was the Baron Victor von Blumvelt, fifteenth Baron in succession.

The city itself was smaller than its neighbor to the south and was situated in the middle of fertile fields, at the top of a small rise. It was not fortified behind a wall and gates, for in its entire existence it had never been necessary to defend against a siege or fend off invaders. There was the occasional Orc and Dark Elf raid but the city hosted a formidable guard unit that dealt with those occurrences.

The wagon arrived at the city just before sunset and made for its destination, a warehouse where tribute wagons were inspected. Neelam had asked and was given directions to the manor house and governmental seat of the barony. He left the tribute wagon to the guardsmen and followed the directions to the front doors of the manor, the guarded front doors.

"Halt," one of the guard commanded dropping his halberd diagonally to block Neelam. "Public hours are over, come back tomorrow."

"I have business with the Baron this evening," Neelam countered.

"Public hours are over!" the second guard reiterated and dropped his halberd, forming an X with the other one.

Gor sang as Neelam drew it forth and upward diagonally, slashing the guard to his left across the middle, spilling his intestines on the ground. He continued Gor's up swing through the shaft of the halberd and decapitated the guard to his right.

"My Lord, point me at the doors," Gor commanded.

Neelam pointed the tip of his sword at the door and waited. The runes on the blade began to glow silver as a beam of the same color leaped from the tip, blowing the doors inward off their hinges and clanking down the hallway into the grand foyer. Neelam felt a quick draining fatigue before shaking it off and following the doors into the manor, holding Gor at the ready as he scanned for threats.

Four guardsmen rushed Neelam from a side corridor, spreading out and engaging as a unit. Four bolts of silver lightning simultaneously leaped from Gor's tip to strike the four guardsmen. The men flew up into the air, held there by the lightning as their skin began to smoke and eventually burst into flames. The lightning consumed the men entirely and then disappeared.

"The odds did not seem to be in your favor, My Lord," Gor explained.

Again Neelam felt a draining fatigue but did not have time to comment because more armed guardsmen flooded the great room. He slowly spun around, holding Gor out, tip down as he sized up the opposition.

"No one else has to die, Baron," Neelam announced, while lowering his head and concentrating on the locations of his enemies. "Come forward and let us end this."

Neelam looked up as a new player entered the field, a elderly man in a grey full length robe and wooden staff, with a gnarled top. The wizard, for that was who he was, began chanting as he pointed the gnarled end of the staff at Neelam. A ball of flaming energy shot out of the end of the staff and straight at Neelam, who brought Gor up into a defensive position to block the spell. Gor moaned in ecstasy as it cleaved the ball in half, absorbing the released energy. The wizard continued to conjure as small pellets of energy shot out of the staff toward Neelam, who moved quickly to block the small missiles. Each time Gor contacted a missile it disappeared and the sword's runes flared more brightly. The wizard began a completely different chant which resulted in lightning bolts striking Neelam, who by this time had just about had enough. He parried the lightning bolts, knocking them aside with a swipe of his sword.

"Gor, he is yours," Neelam declared while releasing the sword.

"That is a bad idea, My Lord," Gor replied, while hovering in the exact same position. "There are a significant number of threats and it would be unwise to lose your advantage. Point me at the staff and I will deal with it that way."

Neelam nodded and re-grabbed the hilt of his sword and pointed the tip at the wizard. A beam of silver energy shot out of the tip and struck the wizard's staff. The staff began to vibrate in the wizard's hand, becoming almost uncontrollable until it finally exploded. Wood shards flew everywhere but primarily into the wizard, who resembled a porcupine as he fell over dead.

Neelam did not have time to see the wizard fall as he had more pressing business; guardsmen were pressing in on him from all sides, trying to take him down. He stepped back into the hallway to provide a little protection for his rear flanks, then closed his eyes and relied on his sword as the guardsmen attacked. Time began to slow down for Neelam and he realized that this was the phenomenon the old timers talked about. He had eavesdropped on a conversation between two old warriors who were talking about being in the zone, as they called it. About being able to almost perceive their opponents next move, a sort of precognition. Neelam was surprised that he could actually see his opponents move before they actually made it.

Neelam moved with grace and symmetry as he countered the threat before him. Dodging the sword of the guardsman in front, he simultaneously blocked the swing of the one to his immediate left. He then countered a swing to his right, catching the guardsman below the ribs on the right side. Neelam then pivoted left and brought Gor back across and into the torso of another attacker. He continued the movement and engaged the next opponent to while grabbing the sword arm of the attacker to his new left. Neelam release the arm while bringing Gor down across the shoulder and into the chest cavity causing the man to go down. Neelam then dropped down, squatting, and move back toward his right, ducking under the swing of an attacker on his right. He cut the legs out from under the attacker and continued right.

"My Lord, behind you," Gor alerted Neelam.

Neelam spun around to his left, Gor trailing behind in his right hand. The movement was fast enough that his sword entered the would be back-stabber just beneath the ribcage, and continued through the spine.

"Threat eliminated, My Lord."

"Gor, can you put up a protection of some kind so I do not need to worry about my rear right now?"

"If you require, My Lord."

"I do."

"It is done, My Lord."

Neelam felt a tingle throughout his body and then a brief feeling of fatigue as a shimmer of light appeared in the open space of the hall in front of him. He did not have time to ponder the meaning of the fatigue as he spun back around and re-engaged his assailants, skewering the closest through the abdomen, and slicing outward toward the next.

The rest of the altercation ended quickly and Neelam looked up to find several courtiers, who had not fled kneeling as Baron von Blumvelt approached, flanked by guards.

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