Treachery of Men RPG

[Child of the 7th Age]

Khandr had gone bolting down the path scarcely aware of where he was going. His mind conjured up one grim scenario after another, each picture more horrifying than the last. He still did not know where the real danger lay, either to himself or, more importantly, to the military endeavor they were about to undertake. As he rattled into the courtyard, the old lord unsteadily dismounted, feeling his age drop down upon his head. Suddenly remembering what he had neglected to do, Khandr turned and barked out instructions to one of the stable lads standing in front of the house, "Go now. Quickly! Take one of the mares and ride back to the hunt. Leave word with the others that I have been unavoidably delayed by personal business.....something I could not put off. If I do not make it back before this morning's chase is done, have the others join me here for the festive meal that we have planned" Khandr stared at a broad grassy knoll where a series of tables had already been set out. Servants were running back and forth from the hall, each carrying plates filled with cheeses and meats and large kegs of ale and mead.

The boy looked quizically in Khandr's direction, but his lord gave no indication that he was about to share any further information. Nodding and pulling down on the brim of his cap, the lad raced into the stable and saddled up, hurrying back along the path on which Khandr had just come. Meanwhile, the man handed his horse off to another of the servants and then went inside the house.

"Briga....Briga?" He rushed into the kitchen where he knew he would find her supervising the last minute preparations for the meal. "She looked up startled to see him returning so soon when the hunt was still going on. Before she could inquire as to the reason, he waved off all questions and pulled her to the side, telling her something of what had gone on in the glade earlier that day, but leaving out the words about the personal danger that now confronted him. Quickly he explained, "That is why you must go now, as soon as the feast has ended. No one will think to check the roads so soon. You must go straight home, and the other servants with you. There is danger afoot and you would all be safer away from here and far from the field of battle. This place, at least, is no longer safe. One other thing....." Here he turned away so she could not see the look on his face. "You must take my personal papers with you....those things hidden at the bottom of the chest. The journal I keep of my dealings with those at court.... That must go to King Bor. And do not forget to bring my will or other official papers. Leave nothing here for I no longer trust our hosts."

Briga opened her mouth as if to protest, but he summarily shook his head. "There is no arguing about this thing. No one is safe here, and I will not rest easy till you and the rest of the household have journeyed home. One other thing....Embla may choose to come with you or she may not. I have given her a choice, and I think she will pick her own path." He glanced over at his wife, and saw a look of true relief on her face. For once, he had done the right thing......

[Lalaith]

"You are free then to do as you please. To come or go as you want...."

Embla caressed the necklace she had been given with her fingers, and gazed at her husband, lost for words.

Freedom. She could appreciate the shamed sincerity of his words, and for the first time, she felt something approaching affection for this man who had been her husband. Given the age gap, and the fact that their physical relations, such as they were, had been joyless and perfunctory, this warmth was hardly romantic. It was more like the feeling a niece might feel for an uncle who had given unexpected tip, or a that of a truculent pupil receiving praise from a hitherto forbidding teacher.

Khandr continued to speak. ".....the woman Jord, whom I do not trust.... evil afoot....speak with me or, if I am not here, then to Fastarr or one of the Elves.... help preserve the light...”
Jord....Fastarr....who to trust .... Embla felt like she was in a maelstrom. “My Lord....I too have felt this evil. I will speak...”
....but she spoke to the air. Khandr had spurred his horse and he was gone.

Too late. Alone, still clutching the necklet she had been given as her parting-gift, Embla sank down onto the greensward. But free.....her mind grew blank with the thrill of it, and suddenly the peculiar feeling she had in the field, after her meeting with Jord, came back with increased power. Her mind filled with horrors... nameless things that slowly began to form words....words that she she must share.
She rose up again. What she had seen had left her cold and sick in a grey world. Her hair stuck dankly to her brow and her robe felt prickly against her flesh. She needed to speak to someone, quickly. To find comfort. Fastarr...the name, and the face that went with it, came instinctively to her. She rode off at frantic speed towards the stable where she had last seen the hunter.
There he was in the field, about to spur on his horse, his broad, comfortable back to her. “Fastarr,” she almost screamed. He turned, looking distracted but at the same time welcoming. The words of her vision came blurting forth.
The fetters will burst, and the wolf run free;
Much do I know, and more can see

Fastarr wheeled round and stared at her, aghast.

I saw there wading through rivers wild
Treacherous men and murderers too,
And workers of ill with the wives of men;
There the vampire sucked the blood of the slain,
And the wolf tore men; would you know yet more?


Embla stared back, panting. She scarcely knew what she had said or what the fell words meant. She had seen in her mind’s eye something almost too horrible for contemplation.