'Freedom or the Fire' Chapter Five- Lee Toren and Bael

Byron looked over the sun-lit landscape, seeing the outskirts of the sprawling mass that was the suburb of Narfan.  For three days he, Alex and Shoryu had marched southward, until at last they arrived at this point.  Byron signaled for Shoryu to come back to him for a moment.  "Before we enter, my boy, I must utilize my shadow magic to disguise myself."

            "Why," asked the Cuyotai youth.

            "You're kidding, right," squeaked Alex from his mount on Byron's shoulder plate.  "Lord Byron should not be seen for who he is in broad daylight, especially in a public place."

            "But I see the good in him," responded Shoryu.  "Is it not so for others?"  Byron shook his head.

            "I am afraid most people in the lands of Tamalaria do not possess your vision, dear Shoryu," he grumbled.  "I am still known as Byron of Sidius in most parts."  Shoryu's eyes widened for a moment, and he took a defensive step back. 

            "You, are Byron of Sidius?  How is that possible?  My caretaker told me you were a holy man in the guise of a monster!  I know of the tales of Byron of Sidius.  If you were him, surely you would have slain me already."  Byron wrapped his countenance in shadow magic, concealing his true appearance.

            "Things have, changed.  I am returned to my living soul, Byron Aixler.  But my body, and my powers, have not followed suit."  Byron looked anxiously at the Hunter, who appeared ready to run for the nearest Paladin outpost for help.  But he did not.  Instead, the youth threw his head back and laughed gaily.

            "You have made a mockery of me, good Byron!  I would not think jokes to be in your capacity!  It appears I am wrong!"  Relaxing his body, Shoryu strode off lightly towards the residential outskirts of the city.

            "Either he's in denial, or he's a card short of a full deck," rasped Alex, after which he found himself being flicked off of his lord's shoulder.

            "He's neither, I think, Alex," said Byron, picking up his pace to catch up to Shoryu.  "He's just young and a bit trusting is all."  All considerations aside, Shoryu let the undead warrior and the Ki Fairy catch up to him, slowing his pace to an easy walk as they passed into the entry streets of Narfan.  The living conditions of the people of the protectorate were livable, it appeared, but not exactly comfortable.  Five and six story apartment-style buildings filled the entire residential district, packing as much life and as many job-holders as the available space could afford, and some people had even fashioned crude extensions on the ground floors to allow for more breathing room.  The low-pitch burble of local gossip flooded the air, as did the scents of ethnic dishes being prepared for meals.  The people themselves dressed in simple tunics and robes, giving the local scene an almost uniform appearance of near-poverty. 

            But even poverty-stricken individuals know when to steer clear of someone's path, as these people did as the lone Cuyotai and his dark-clad companion walked through the streets.  Heads swiveled as if on a glide-track to look at the passers-by, whispered suspicions and rumors already circulating through the crowds like the blood of a community entity.  Already labels were being attached to the tall, dark menace that followed closely behind the Cuyotai.  Though he could hear their talk, Byron wasn't entirely surprised.  He had seen no other lycanthropes in the city thus far, just Humans, Dwarves, and some Sidalis (mutants).  His nostrils had even detected the foul odor that would surely come from a member of the blue-skinned Jaft race.  Not that they could help it; it seemed to be their trade off with nature for their regenerative powers and brute physical strength.

            He and Shoryu had almost passed into the business district when such a creature, a male of the Race, stepped out of an alley in front of him.  Shoryu took a step back from the tall bald man, readying his claws for a confrontation.  Byron placed a reassuring and calming hand on the youth's shoulder, and Shoryu stood still, retracting his claws.  "Yo, stranger," said the Jaft fellow, whose odor was making Shoryu's sensitive nostrils flare and his eyes tear up.  "Outsiders gots' ta pay a toll to go into da' bidness place."  The Jaft extended one massive hand towards Byron.  The man equaled the Dread Knight in height and mass, but his linguistics left something to be desired.  Byron shook his head slightly, appalled by the level of stupidity some of these creatures possessed.

            "You don't want to do this," Byron rumbled deep in his chest.  "You shall step aside and let us pass, Jaft."  The Jaft raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms in front of his chest. 

            "Oh, shall I?  Yeah, since yous axed so nicely, sure t'ing."  The Jaft snapped his fingers, and he was soon accompanied by three burly Human thugs.  None of them appeared to be more than twenty years of age, and Byron rolled his lights in his sockets, sighing and shaking his head in disappointment.  "Now pay up, weirdo, you and da' wolf-boy."

            "Actually, I'm a Cuyotai," interjected Shoryu with his finger up-pointed, trying to make a futile point.

            "Uh, whatever," said the Jaft in his low timbre.  "Just fork over the cash, lest me and da boys have to rough you up."  Byron began to chuckle, at first softly, then louder and more menacingly, throwing his arms back and laughing like a demon possessed.  The Jaft scowled at him, his fists clenched and his teeth set and bared.  "You laughin' at me, buddy?!  I'll pound you into dust, you and your little pet here," he said, referring to the shorter adventurer. 

            "By all means," Byron rasped, crouching into a battle-ready position.  "You and your goons are welcome to try.  Hehehehe, yes, by all means," he said, turning his eyes into smoking pits of crimson iridescence.  Shoryu brought out his claws once again, snarling and snapping in the air in front of him, letting his lips foam over.  The Jaft faltered a moment, backing away from the suddenly very real menace. 

            "Uh, you gets a free pass fer now, freak-job," he stuttered, backing away towards the building he and his faithful thugs had come from.  "But I'll be seeing you around, you can count on it!"  Turning tail and fleeing at maximum velocity, the Jaft ran headlong into the side wall of the neighboring apartment building, knocking himself unconscious.  Byron and Shoryu returned to their normal walking positions, Shoryu wiping the excess drool out of his fur.  As soon as they were a hundred yards away, Shoryu and Alex both burst into gleeful laughter.

            "Oh my gods, that was hilarious," choked Shoryu through a fit of laughter.  Byron smiled inwardly despite himself.  He had been ready to pound the impudent little man into so much fleshy waste, but now upon hindsight, he realized that the situation had indeed been rather entertaining.  But he had a purpose in Narfan, he had someone to see.  An old Gnome acquaintance, and he didn't want any more delays.

            "Come on you two, pull yourselves together.  We have a tavern to visit." 

            Elsewhere, near the Allenian Hills, a base camp had been prepared, with seven score warriors and two score magic users assembled under a banner that had on it a single eye over a black field.  Vandross had assembled a small army, and his aura was attracting more vile creatures to him every day, including some of the native Khan (tiger-men) from the Hills themselves.  He sat at that moment on a comfortable throne-style chair, across a small table from his General, Bael.  A chess board sat between them, a match just started between the two.

            Vandross poured over the board, deciding his moves four or five turns in advance, then having to rethink because of Bael's movements.  The Lizardman had already bested him twice, and Vandross had returned the favor three times in a row, but he had to admit that Bael would not easily let three victories turn into four.  But the one-eyed devil knew neither man was fully focused on the game.  Something gnawed at both of them.

            "What's on your mind, General," Vandross finally asked, breaking the comfortable silence.  Bael looked at him from the board. 

            "My elite warriors, sire.  They have not yet returned.  And my scouts have told me that mostly, some sort of magic weapon the Cuyotai boy used had destroyed the force we left behind.  My lord, I think the boy survived."  Vandross paused a moment, then shrugged before speaking.

            "No matter.  I doubt the boy will be in any hurry to come after us."

            "No sire, I think he will come after us.  You do not know the Cuyotai like I do.  They take vengeance as a very serious part of their livelihood.  And in all probability, the Dread Knight has slain my elite warriors."

            "Necessary sacrifices General.  War is funny like that," Vandross said, taking out Bael's bishop. 

            "My men have given much to you and your cause, lord Vandross.  They are very loyal to me, and I to you."  Bael paused, taking out Vandross's queen with a clever knight maneuver.  Vandross frowned at the board.

            "Is there some point to this, Bael?"  Vandross paid little attention to his words, trying to figure out how Bael had cornered his most valuable piece.

            "The men grow restless, sire.  The new recruits want some action.  Morale among the older fighters is slowly but surely draining away.  We lost many men in the assault on the Cuyotai village.  I propose we give them a few days to do as they like in some of the townships near here."  Vandross looked away from the board, fixing his one eye on Bael's two.  He respected the General's prowess, but something about his request seemed unnecessary, foolish even.  For Bael himself, the issue went beyond mere boredom in the ranks.  He had told the men of his tribes that they would be carving a new territory out of the lands for themselves, under the leadership of the powerful warlock Richard Vandross.  He would be their king, and they would be the free and mighty inhabitants of a kingdom that knew no equal. 

            If they only took the surrounding villages, then Bael reasoned that he could talk to Lord Vandross about declaring the area his own, and the quest for these Orbs of his would come to an end.  He would have power, territory, and from looting and enslaving the people, a temporary powerbase which could be turned into a government.  That had been the plan, at least, at first.  That had been what Vandross had said to convince Bael to join him.  As it was, however, he saw his own men falling more and more into thrall of Vandross, and their original goals and dreams were being forgotten.

            "Why bother, General?  I know where the third Orb is, and we can begin a march on it tomorrow.  We've got recruits coming in all day.  We can burn and pillage anyplace on our way to the third Orb.  Why let them have this time?"  He moved his only remaining bishop into position, and was certain he would have checkmate in three moves. 

            "Because, sire, men who are fresh off of one battle will blindly and eagerly go into the next one.  These forces will also suffer some losses, but at least we'll weed out the less effective members,” he said, having already calculated Vandross’s refusal.  “Call it a selection process if you will.  A training exercise."  Bael paused a moment, making a move.  "The better to move out with a truly tested force than one with no experience.  By the way, my lord, checkmate."  Vandross glared at the board, seeing he had no options left but to admit defeat.  He smiled smugly, knowingly. 

            "Very well, General, inform the men they have four days to do as they will.  But on the morning of that fifth day, we march west.  Understood?"  Bael smiled slightly, still keeping his soldier's demeanor.

            "Of course sire.  Good game."  He saluted and left Vandross's tent.  Vandross peered over the board, identifying his mistakes. 

            "Good game indeed, General."

            Byron and Shoryu entered the seedy-looking tavern through a pair of broken saloon-style doors, looking over the inside of the establishment briefly.  Shoryu had seen nicer places outside of the village, but this particular tavern didn't seem too bad.  There were even some gentlemen reading the town paper in one corner.  Byron moved toward the corner closest to the bar itself, and ordered a double shot of scotch for himself, and an ale for Shoryu.  The Human barkeep looked at Byron suspiciously for a moment, until the Dread Knight plunked seven gold coins on the counter.  Byron looked around at the customers for a moment, noting that only one man appeared to be any sort of threat, a burly Dwarven fellow who apparently worked hard at getting hammered before two in the afternoon.

            Then, he spotted the man he'd been looking for, a simply-clad Gnome with frizzled gray hair, and a belt covered with utility pouches.  He rapped three times on the table, looking at the Gnome at the bar.  The Gnome glanced in his direction, and rapped on the bar twice, very shortly.  Byron responded with one hard knock, then four short knocks.  The Gnome took his drink and climbed down from his stool, coming over and sitting at the last seat at Byron's table.  "Do I know you, stranger," he asked, his voice thick with a northland accent.

            "Indeed you do, Lee Toren, Pickpocket and ladies' man," Byron rumbled beneath his concealing shadows.  Lee beamed proudly at him and Shoryu. 

            "So you does.  Who are you fella?  And who's the boy," he asked, jerking a stubby thumb at Shoryu.  A Pickpocket, thought Shoryu, checking his pockets to ensure his belongings still belonged to him. 

            "The Cuyotai is named Shoryu, Lee.  I am Byron."  Lee's eyes widened in shock, and he smiled broadly. 

            "Byron?!  But everyone thought you died!"  Byron leaned in close to Lee Toren, removing just a bit of his shadows to reveal his skull.

            "I did."  Lee's smile turned into an appalled and horrified expression instantly.  He almost leaped out of his seat as Byron replaced the missing veil, looking around sheepishly for a means of escape.  "Do not fear, Lee," Byron whispered.  "I am in possession of my soul.  The one you have known as Byron of Sidius is no more." 

            "Pardon me for being a slight bit skeptical," Lee sneered sarcastically.  "It's not every day I sees a critter with bones for a face claimin' he ain't 'ere ta hurt me," he whispered conspiratorially.  Shoryu leaned across the table a bit, a question in his eyes.

            "Why are you guys whispering," he asked in a whisper.  Lee looked at him perplexedly, shaking his head after a moment.

            "Is 'e serious," he asked Byron, who simply shrugged his shoulders.

            "I'm afraid so, old friend."  He leaned back and took a sip of his scotch.  The warm glow of it in his stomach eased his frayed nerves some, keeping him from dragging Lee outside and slapping him for nearly panicking.  Lee shook his head, looking at Shoryu intently.

            "You don't get out in the world much, do you boy?"  Shoryu shook his head sheepishly, ducking his snout to his chest.  "By the way Byron, is this lad even grown enough for drinkin'?  'e adn't touched 'is ale yet , and I'm hankerin' fer another round."

            "Oh, by all means, get yourself another drink, Lee.  On me, of course," Byron rasped, plinking another gold piece on the counter, ten times the value of one of Lee's gin and tonics.  The bartender waited a moment, took the coin, and brought back change for it, as he had the previous seven.  Once more Byron waved him off with a slight gesture of his hand.  My god, the barkeep thought, his face flushed with excitement.  I'll be able to pay this and next month's rent on time!

            "Well then, what is it you're after, friend," Lee asked as he took a swig of his drink.  Shoryu hesitantly lifted the mug of strange, amber-colored fluid to the light coming through a nearby window.  The beverage, while it looked innocent enough, smelled of something foul, and not unlike the man who had fallen off of his stool at the bar.  Mustering strength and courage, Shoryu lapped at the ale with speed.  For a moment, his canine instincts told him that whatever this substance was, it held poisonous qualities, for both the body and mind.  But shortly thereafter, a different, but related, instinct told him it was time to excuse himself and find a nice quiet corner to vomit into.  He gave the two acquaintances the universal hand signal for 'one moment, if you'll excuse me', which roughly translated in Byron's mind to 'I have to rush off around the corner of this tavern so as to save myself the embarrassment of ruining someone's nice boots with the digested remains of this morning's meal'.

            For a long moment after the young Cuyotai exited the tavern, Lee and Byron simply looked at each other, but it didn't take long for Lee's face to crack into a broad grin rife with laughter.  "His first time, eh," he asked, snickering ever-so slightly.

            "There's got to be first time for everything, Lee," Byron said.  "Now give me back my money pouch or you shall be placed in a realm of pain so infinitely large and horrible that your eyes shall burst from simply realizing you're said realm's only resident."  Smiling widely, Lee Toren pushed the Dread Knight's money pouch across the table to him.  "Thank you."  Shoryu retook his seat, his mouth still hanging slightly open, his tongue lolling against his lower jaw.  "Now, what I'm after, dear friend, is information."

            "Ah, information," said Lee, looking at his drink with a look of concentration.  "Some information's hard to come by, 'specially these days.  Not too many folks still dealing in facts, so it can be a bit, er, what's the word?"

            "Expensive," Byron sighed.  "You shall be well compensated, my friend.  I need to know the locations of the Orbs of Eden’s Serpent.  A man by the name of Richard Vandross seeks them."  At Vandross's name, apprehension swooped over Lee's face like a vulture.  "Is something the matter, Lee?"  The Gnome Pickpocket shook his head slightly, his mouth agape.

            "You don't want any part of that man, Byron, I'm telling you now.  What you really are going to want to know is how far it is to the nearest port off the continent of Tamalaria."  Lee took a stiff swig of his drink, grabbing the barkeep's attention for another round.

            "You fear this man," asked Byron, taking a sip of his own drink.

            "Fear's a word best suited to things you have a snowball's chance in the seven Hells of dealing with.  That man is something else altogether.  He's been at it for years, ever since the time of Tanarak.  Even worked in league with the old warlock, though I don't know how extensively.  You sure you want to deal with this man?"  Byron simply remained silent, waiting for his information.  "Fine, fine.  The Orbs interested me a little after the old warlock died, big monetary gains available for a shrewd salesman, know what I mean," he said, taking a swig.  "So I learned a few things about where I might, erm, find them, you know, maybe lying around."

            "You intended to steal them," Byron said, a matter-of-fact tone, not a question.

            "Well, that's what I does best chum," Lee said, winking at Byron and handing Shoryu his compass back.  The Cuyotai immediately checked his other belongings, satisfied that the Gnome was merely proving a point.  "Only thing is, each one is guarded by some person or group of people.  Fer instance, one was in a church in Koreindar.  Now I'm a thief, true, but that's sacrilege.  I've some standards, mind you, so I was going to hire someone else to nick it."

            "Does your moral bankruptcy know no bounds," squeaked Alex from Byron's shoulder, admiring Lee's unique 'code of ethics'. 

            "'ey, so long as it keeps me from financial bankruptcy, no.  So anyway, another was guarded by this village of Cuyotai.  I know when a group of people can kick my arse, or that of any of my associates, so I let that one go," Lee said, noticing a scowl on young Shoryu's face.  "I knows where two others are, one near Desanadron, and one in the Elven Kingdom capital of Whitewood.  Now," he said, glad to be helpful for a price.  "About payment?"  Byron took out four platinum coins, each worth ten gold pieces, and handed them to Lee.

            "Thank you, Lee.  You've been most informative.  Let us chat again some time."  Byron stood up, and began to lurch out of the tavern.

            "Sure thing, so long as you're buying," Lee called after Byron and Shoryu.

            In the town of Ashkemp, things were not so quaint.  Bael's men had reduced the city watchmen and the occasional adventurer to heaps of bloodied flesh and meat, sometimes leaving not even that on the frayed and broken bones.  The Lizardman General watched as the new Khan recruits tore men apart, splitting even heavy iron armor in half with their feral claws and giant swords.  Of particular interest to him was the Khan called Bringel, a Berserker whose only clear measure of might lay in the cast off shreds of the town's elite guards.  His axe crushed, maimed and rent everything he crossed asunder, and he apparently had little or no mercy for the young, sick, or elderly.  He killed without prejudice, even destroying three of his own comrades. 

            But Bringel only proved to Bael that his fury as a Berserker could not be controlled.  Setting aside the consideration of a potentially lethal weapon at his command, he prepared to send his own shock troops after the mighty Khan, when the ancient Beastmaster slid silently up to his side.  "Such raw force, General," hissed the ancient one. 

            "Hmm.  Indeed," said Bael, sighing as he summoned five men with a hand signal.  "It is a shame he is so out of control once he gets going.  We shall have to kill him, as a result.  He is too great a risk to our own troops.  Men, prepare a volley of arrows, and aim for the head."

            "Wait, General," the ancient reptile said, holding his hand in front of the firing squad.  "A Berserker is no different than a beast of the wild.  I shall tame him.  Observe."  The old Lizardman stepped forth in Bringel's direction, rapping his staff on the cobblestone street to gain the massive Berserker's attention.  As Bringel turned, his black and orange striped pelt soaked with blood, Bael feared for a moment that the monolith Khan would destroy them all.  "Nishimonji, Berserker!  Nishimonji, Khan," shouted the old reptile, raising and lowering his staff, then twirling it in a circle before him.  A faint blue light shimmered around the Beastmaster, and Bringel's eyes turned from black orbs back to the pale blue they had been when first Bael had met him.  He approached the Beastmaster and knelt before him like a disciple.  Bael could hardly believe what he had just witnessed, but ordered the archers away anyhow. 

            "How, how did you do it?"  Bael looked from the kneeling Khan to the wizened old Lizardman.

            "All things in nature are beasts within.  He is simply more in tune with that savage, animal insssstinct.  And by the way, General, my true name, is Valk.  I want you to remember that when you recommend that lord Vandrossssss give me command of one of the platoons."  Bael smiled widely, his eyes turning into slits.  Valk was old, but still possessed the cunning of a younger man.

            "Very well, Valk.  Consider it done."  The Beastmaster stalked away, Bringel trailing behind like a lost puppy.  Bael felt suddenly very certain that his grasp of things to come slipped further and further away from him all the time.  He would have been satisfied with lording over a kingdom alongside Richard Vandross.  But he had the sinking feeling that with such an army as was now amassed, Vandross would want more than a kingdom.  He would want the entire continent.  Before any more doubts could creep through his mind, his soldier's instinct kicked in, and he knew what his duties were.  Serve lord Vandross as General, carry out my orders, and command the army.  Nothing more, nothing less.  The General did an about-face, and began to check on the other recruits.  He had an army to train.  Besides, they would leave tomorrow for Narfan, near Ja-Wen for the final testing of their skills.