Fable - Ask The Tides of Fate

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá's eyes had drifted shut again as she waited for Kol to finish whatever it was he was doing. When she heard him gasp, she sat up, eyeing him curiously. He didn't look in her direction, though, just looked down at the book.

"Are you rested?"

"Yes," she answered, scooting to the edge of the bed and sliding her legs over. "Did you figure something out?"

 

[Kol]

"Of a sort." He said with a quiet smile on his lips.

There was always a sense of... satisfaction when the Dark Gods offered him what he desired. When one of their whispers was more helpful than usual. It made him feel as though he'd won some small victory, something that made all of his sacrifices worth it.

Even if it might turn into nothing. "This place is old."

He told her softly.

"Older than many gods." His voice dropped for a second, but then he continued. "We did not make our way into a fortress, Ruvsa."

Kol took in a breath. "It's a prison."

 

[Ruvsá]

A prison. Of course. That made far more sense than anything else about this place, going by what they'd encountered. Ruvsá bit at the inside of her lip, turning her gaze back to the room they had taken shelter in.

A wooden trunk. A bed, the desk. Some items that clearly were personal possessions. In many military forces, she knew that ranking officers were given more luxurious quarters than common barracks. But this was... not quite right for that.

If anything, she could see now that it was a prison cell for someone of importance. Perhaps an elven lord or commander, long since dead either by execution or the passage of time. Or because something else had taken over the prison. If the prisoner had been executed, their belongings would have been removed.

"A prison... complicates things," she murmured, warily casting a glance at the door they'd so carefully closed behind them. It had opened easily from the outside. Would open again for them from the inside? "Things are too pristine. Something cleared out the prisoners and the guards, but not their belongings. Why empty a prison if you're not going to use it again?"

She turned her gaze back to Kol, her fingers nervously fingering the edge of the mattress. "We need to see if we're able to leave this room, and if we are, we need to find water, at the very least. If this is a prison, and we have yet to encounter the strongest magics that lie hold of it, then we could be trapped here for days."

If we're ever able to make our way out at all, she added silently to herself. She hated being trapped. But she knew that the first step to dealing with that fear was facing it head on.

 

[Kol]

Kol remained where he was for a moment, glancing down at the journal.

Briefly he wished that he could have read it, could have seen the life that this man had lived. Why had he been imprisoned? Where had he gone? What had happened to all of the empty cells? He frowned for a moment, then slowly pushed himself up and off the wall.

His body seemed to shift with a liquid flow, gaze flickering towards Ruvsa as she spoke of finding water. "There will be a well."

The Sorcerer reasoned. Somewhere in this place they would have to find something of the sort. Elves were hearty, but they could not survive without basic sustenance.

He knew that much from experience. He'd tortured more than one in his day.

"I suspect..." Kol said with a frown. "That we were right about one thing."

As he spoke Kol walked towards the hammer on the door. "Someone took the people of this place to fight, but..."

Lips thinned as he picked up the hammer, pulling on the door and finding that it opened without much effort.

"There is something left behind." Something that had not been taken. Someone.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá stood when Kol did, retrieving the knife from where it had fallen aside in the bed, tucking it into a pocket sewn inside her cloak.

"There will be a well."

The Sorcerer reasoned.

She heard the slightest amount of uncertainty in his voice, knew that he was making the some conjecture that she had. Surely, surely in a place like this there would be a well.

"Let us hope it is not dried up or poisoned," she commented.

She sighed with relief when the door opened easily for him, but her brow furrowed as she considered the rest of his words. Clearly, she needed to learn more about magic. The undead. She knew of the Eternum and it's stronghold just off the coast, but that was about the extent of her knowledge.

"Any idea as to what type of something?" she asked as she followed him back out the door. She paused again for a moment in the cavern, looking around at the various doors. "Should we check the rest of the rooms? There might be supplies in them. We don't know what's carved on the doors. They might not all be cells."

 

[Kol]

Kol frowned for a moment, looking around the hall. Whatever had been left, had been left behind for a reason. It could be a person, a thing, he did not know. Perhaps it was one of the giants, captured long ago, or perhaps it was one of the Elves that they had not trusted.

In truth, his curiosity alone burned in his chest.

He wanted to know what it was that they had not taken, what sort of a creature was so dangerous that they could not release it. Surely it was something of immense power, something that they had not wanted to risk. "Something...interesting."

Kol said quietly, glancing around for a moment as she suggested opening the doors.

He thought back to the Journal, that life that he could have learned about had he simply known just a little bit more. If he had to guess he would have said that these rooms were all cells, but that didn't mean they were useless. "Couldn't hurt."

The Sorcerer said with a shrug of his shoulders.

With quick steps he walked over towards the nearest door, using the same method as before the force it open. The inside was almost a carbon copy of the first room, though this time the trunk was empty.

He then did so again with the next, and the next.

Each time they found either nothing or just small trinkets. No water. No food.

Eventually they reached the last of the dozen rooms, Kol glancing back at Ruvsa's almost as if to see if she even wanted to bother.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ten more rooms, and only disappoint, and Ruvsá marveled a little that they very first one they'd opened had contained so much. She hadn't really expected to find food or water in any of the others--even if they had been there, they would have rotted and evaporated long ago--but a flask or canteen or two would have been nice, providing that they managed to find a safe water source within this dungeon.

She'd come prepared for a few days alone in the wilderness, in which case her tinder kit would have been sufficient. All she needed was a fresh water source and the ability to hunt. She would never wander around without at least a waterskin again.

When they came to the last door, Kol gave her a hesitant glance, silently asking if she still wanted to bother.

"Might as well," she shrugged. "It often seems like it's the last place you look that you find something."

Almost anything would be helpful if it was more than a personal, sentimental trinket. One of those elusive flasks or canteens... a secondary light source besides Kol's magic... gods forbid, a map. Even another knife, whether ceremonial or functional.

 

[Kol]

Kol smiled at the optimism.

Such a thing was...well almost impossible in the Lost Isles. Most people had given up any type of hope in favor of a more dour attitude. The Dark Gods were hardly forgiving creatures, and that fact had made it's way deep into Nordwiir society.

"Very well." What was one more room?

The Sorcerer raised his foot, and then bashed it against the lock of the door. There was a heavy thunk, and then another kick. The metal lock gave way, door crashing in and opening a room that was incredibly similar to every other room they had been in.

There was however, a stark difference, one that Kol hadn't expected. Sequestered on the bed in the corner of the room was a man, or...half a man. He was a Dwarf, from what Kol could tell, or something very similar. His skin was ashen, his clothes all but tatters.

Almost as soon as the door slammed open his head turned, eyes sunken and dark. Surprise flickered across the man's features, and in a guttural...yet somehow smooth tongue he spoke.

"Yir ath othok?"​

He did not move, aside from sitting up, but he offered no threat or sign of attack.

Kol stared at him in surprise, then looked to Ruvsa. In the corner of the room, directly opposite the strange dwarf, one of the Dark Gods laughed.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá was, honestly, surprised that they had not come upon a skeleton yet.

She most certainly had not expected to come across something living that was not bound up in the magic of this place and rendered a servant to it, besides themselves.

She'd never seen a creature like it before, though, but deduced easily enough that it was a dwarf. He was emaciated, but yet... he'd been left behind, abandoned, in a cell, and that was only done with the very worst of criminals. So she let her hands relax at her sides, ready to draw her knives if need be.

"Yir ath othok?"

Kol looked over at her, clearly taken off guard, and Ruvsá just shrugged, and turned her attention back to the dwarf.

"Do you speak the Common tongue?" she asked, and she would honestly be surprised if he did, if he'd been locked up here--somehow surviving--for many, many years, possibly even centuries. The language could have been born long after he was locked up. Yet even if the fortress was, as Kol had said, more ancient than the gods, that didn't mean the dwarf had been imprisoned that long.

"Gerþúr mæli Fiirevek?" she asked as well, because it didn't hurt to try.

 

[Kol]

The dwarf made a face, though it wasn't one of confusion. Rather the expression was one of concern, his features twisting I'm a strange worry as his shoulders rose and then subsequently shrugged up and down.

"I do not believe he understands." Lol commented dryly, frowning for a moment as he peered down the creature. Lips thinned a moment, and then his fingers drew over his chin in thought. The common tongue was not a new language, but not old compared to some others.

Wiir, as his people called it, was an off shoot of the tongue spoken by Ruvsa. Thus Kol doubted that it would work any better than her previous attempt. "I have an idea."

From his pocket he pulled out the small journal, taking one of marking pencils he'd found in another room. With quick, surprisingly deft, hands Kol drew the prison that they were standing in, then iron bars, and a rudimentary sketch of the dwarf. The drawing was shockingly detailed for the amount of time it took him, and he quickly turned it around to show the dwarf.

The man stood up, nodding his head.

He pointed to himself, then motioned up high, made motions of swing an ax, then put his hands over his ears with both his index fingers pointing up.

Kol was no champion of charades, but even he could tell what the words meant.

"I think...he was captured by the Elves during a battle." The Sorcerer said slowly

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá's face scrunched a little. The chances of the dwarf knowing Fiirevek were as slim as her knowing dwarvish, but it was still disappointing. She cast a wearily amused glance at Kol when he spoke, though.

"I do not believe he understands." Lol commented dryly, frowning for a moment as he peered down the creature.

"Surely you jest," she answered back just as dryly, though she followed it with soft quiet laughter as she glanced back at the dwarf. She was surprised how much the discovery of something had lightened her mood.

"I have an idea."

Ruvsá looked back at Kol, tilting her head as he pulled the journal back out and began to sketch. She leaned against the doorframe, glancing back and forth between Kol and the dwarf every few minutes as they waited.

"Not bad," she murmured when he finished. It was clearly a hasty sketch, but he had some skill. Something where he was able to take his time would likely be a stunning work.

She was not expecting what happened after he showed the sketch to the dwarf, though, and she watched with more than a little bemusement in her eyes.

"I think...he was captured by the Elves during a battle." The Sorcerer said slowly

"I would, ah, concur with that," Ruvsá laughed, her smile wide and eyes gleaming for the first time since they'd become trapped, but she grew serious again as she looked back at the dwarf.

If she were acting in an official capacity as a Shield Maiden, then she would prioritize learning why the dwarf was captured. What the battle had been about. If he might become a future threat to the Nordenfiir.

But right now, what they needed was a way out of here, and if he could provide that, then Ruvsá had no problem setting aside the rest of her concerns, at least temporarily.

"We need to find out if he knows the layout of this place," she spoke at last. "And even if he doesn't know the way out then maybe he can help us find water, and get us close to the way out."

The dwarf would be a fool if he gave them that information freely, though.

 

[Kol]

A fool, or a desperate man.

Kol had met many of the latter. The Dark God in the corner of the room seemed to grin a little wider, it's teeth showing within the abyss. The Sorcerer glanced towards it for a moment, then slowly dragged his gaze back towards the dwarf.

He pointed to the man, then flipped a page in the journal. He drew a quick squiggle, an arrow and a marker of location. It was quick, and then he gestured towards the door in question.

For a few seconds the Dwarf seemed to puzzle out the gestures, his hands dropping from his head as he studied Kol. There was a weariness in his eyes, something that told of more than just being locked up. Kol had seen that before too.

After a moment he nodded his head.

"Hold this." Kol said as he offered Rusva the journal and then the hammer.

Then he took a step towards the dwarf. He motioned towards himself, then to his throat, and then to his lips. Fingers drew into the air, and the rune-knife once more appeared within his palm. The Dwarf took half a step back, the weariness growing.

Kol reached up both of his hand, gestured to his throat, and then gently placed the tip of the blade onto it. He drew a slow vertical line at one end, just shallow enough to pull blood from flesh. Then he motioned towards the dwarf.

The man looked at him, them to Rusva, then nodded.

His head lifted, and Kol placed the blade upon his throat. He drew the line, blood just barely spilling, and then there was a cough.

"BLOODY FUCKIN HELL!"

The dwarf screamed, his face twisting in utter shock at the words coming from his own mouth.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá stayed leaning against the doorway. There wasn't much for her to do besides watch, and take the journal and hammer when he handed them to her. Curiously, the hammer didn't change size then like it had when Kol took it from the altar, but perhaps that was because she was only taking temporarily and not with the intent of wielding it.

As soon as Kol pointed to his throat and mouth and drew his knife from nothingness again, she knew what he hoped to do.

She winced when the dwarf screamed, but was satisfied that she could at least understand him, and gave a satisfied smirk to Kol.

Then she turned back to the dwarf.

"What can you tell us about this prison?" she asked. "Do you know where the guards were stationed, and how many?"

She didn't want to say too much, not right away. Better that the dwarf think them conquerors than fellow inmates, and he may not know that the rest of the prison had been abandoned. Best not to tell him so... yet.

 

[Kol]

"The Guards are long dead, Lass. Except the ones they tethered."​

He frowned for a moment, looking down at his own hands and then up at Kol with a sort of admonishment that spoke volumes. It was clear that he did not like the tone of his voice in this tongue, though there was not much that Kol could do about that.

At least not that he was willing to do. "What was this place exactly? Not an ordinary prison."

The Sorcerer asked.

For a few seconds the Dwarf looked at him, then the knife, then Ruvsa.

"No. Not an ordinary prison. Was kept special like, made by...well us."​

He gestured to himself.

"The Elves brought us here, tasked us with forging this place to hold one of their own. A King of some sort, never cared much who."​

That of course left the obvious question as to why he himself had been imprisoned.Kol frowned for a moment, glancing back at Ruvsa. "The Journal, perhaps one of the followers of this...King."

The Dwarf nodded his head.

"How long have you been here." For a moment there was a pause. The dwarf scratching at his beard, glancing down at his skin.

"I'd say...a few thousand years, two perhaps."​

Kol gave him an incredulous look.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá nodded at the dwarf's statement, and made note of what he said about 'the ones tethered.' Was the giant they'd battled one of those, though? Or something else from another time after the dwarf was imprisoned?

As the dwarf explained some more about the prison, Ruvsá couldn't help but feel a slight... admiration of the unique cruelty of locking the builder away in the prison he'd constructed, and the corner of her mouth twisted upward just slightly.

Then she shook her head slightly, and focused on the matter at hand.

A prison made for a king. That would explain some of the... odd luxury of the place. But was the dwarf the one Kol's gods had hinted at being left behind... or was it this king?

When Kol asked how long the dwarf had been imprisoned, she straightened up, curious as to the answer.

"I'd say...a few thousand years, two perhaps."

"How is that possible?" Ruvsá blurted out. "Even if you have a source of food and water, I've never heard of a race of dwarves that can live that long."

 

[Kol]

Kol frowned for a moment, agreeing with his companions rather...curt assessment.

Nordwiir rarely lived over the age of fifty. Not because they did not have long lifespans, but purely because they were a people of violence and death. He was not so sure about Nordwiir, but he was confident Dwarves lived only a few hundred years.

"Magic."​

The Sorcerer laughed.

It was the first time that Ruvsa had heard him actually laugh, probably the only time that she would. The sound was a rare one for him, and even as it echoed in the room and the hall beyond all true joy seemed removed from it.

"One would think." Kol said with a shake of his head.

"Well lad, it's the same reason I'm still here. I'm bound to this damn place. It stays up, I stay alive. Something the Elves did...ensures that they always had someone to...fix things."

Kol frowned for a moment, looking the dwarf up and down. "That worked out well for them."

The Sorcerer commented dryly.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá eyed the dwarf incredulously, but she wondered at Kol's laughter. It was rather empty, but there was still a bit of scorn behind it, and him being the magic user between the two of them, she thought it odd that he was skeptical.

If there was anything she'd learned her so far, glancing down at her hands--hale and whole again--it was that almost anything might be possible with magic. Why would it be so hard to believe that the dwarf's life was extended by it?

"Well lad, it's the same reason I'm still here. I'm bound to this damn place. It stays up, I stay alive. Something the Elves did...ensures that they always had someone to...fix things."

Kol frowned for a moment, looking the dwarf up and down. "That worked out well for them."

The Sorcerer commented dryly.

She chuckled and rolled her eyes, and directed another question to the dwarf. "Can you be killed, or are you effectively immortal while the stronghold stands?"

Has anyone ever tried to kill him and destroy the place? she mused silently. Has he tried to kill himself, trapped here for millennia?

 

[Kol]

"I don't know. I'm not immortal. If that's what you're asking."

The dwarf looked over at Ruvsa and shrugged his shoulder.

Kol knew what the woman was thinking, and it would have been a lie to say that he hadn't thought the same. Lips thinned for a moment as he turned around and stepped back towards his companion, the knife disappeared from his hand, and he reached out to take the hammer.

"This King they imprisoned, who is he?" Kol asked curiously.

"I don't rightly know. He ruled them for a long time until he began a war with the Frost Giants, a war the elves lost. They imprisoned him here for his tyranny. Apparently it took...a lot."

The Dark Gods began to laugh.

Is this why they had lead him here? That man? Was he why the Dark Gods had slaughtered his men and brought him to this Prison? It must be. His tongue slid over his teeth for a moment, and then he turned back towards the dwarf.

"Do you know a way out?" He asked.

"Course I do, built the damn place didn't I?"

Kol nodded, and then motioned towards Ruvsa. "Then you will escort her out to the exit and leave this place."

While he would find this King.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá kept her face neutral as the dwarf replied, frustrated that it wasn't really a helpful answer. She handed the hammer back to Kol, and listened to the ensuing conversation, more than a little frustrated that there was little recorded history her people kept prior to the creation of the Nordenfiir. This Elvish king surely predated the Nordens, but did this war--this stronghold--predate even their human ancestors, the Nord?

The next words exchanged made her straighten, eyes narrowing.

"Do you know a way out?" He asked.

"Course I do, built the damn place didn't I?"

Kol nodded, and then motioned towards Ruvsa. "Then you will escort her out to the exit and leave this place."

She watched Kol for a moment, her expression hardening. Was he showing an odd moment of chivalry, trying to give her a way out? He had, however weakly, attempted to comfort her when they were first trapped in this place, but while she'd succumbed to her fear once, she would not do so again.

Or did he intend confront this king on his own and claim the stronghold for his own? If so, she would not tolerate that, neither as a warrior in her own right--even if she'd been gravely injured in the process, Kol would not have survived the giant they fought without her aid--nor as a Shield Maiden of the Nordenfiir.

At the least, she deserved half of whatever spoils might come of this place.

"No," she stated firmly, meeting Kol's gaze steadily. "We continue on together, or we leave together."

 

[Kol]

Kol looked at Ruvsa for a moment, considering her response. Then he offered her a shrug. "Very well."

He wasn't exactly trying to keep her away.

His own curiosity was driving him at this point. He did not know who this King was, what he could do, but if he could find out? There was potentially great reward. The Dark God's often laid him on a path that challenged him, this was just another of those.

"Are you mad? They built this whole place to hold him."​

Kol shrugged. "So he is still held."

Which was what really mattered.

The Dwarf seemed aghast for a few moments, and then let out a sigh with a shake of his head. He muttered a curse, and then moved towards the door. There was little that he could do about it, given the fact that even if he wanted to he couldn't leave this place.

"Deeper into the fortress we go." He commented wryly to Ruvsa.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá smiled, eyes softening, when Kol agreed to continue on together, and the speed and nonchalance with which he did made her think she had misjudged him. Perhaps... her time in Jorn Aggar's harem, while she had willingly remained, willingly gone to his bed for over a year after learning of his treachery in order to spy on him, had still scarred her more than she thought. Especially when it came to men.

Because she'd liked Aggar, when she first met him. Had been flattered by his courtship, and by his invitation to join his harem. And even in the final days before she turned her evidence over to Queen Maude, he'd still been kind and attentive to her, even if he'd hid so much from her. Indeholm and its Jorn had been well-reputed. A wealthy holding, with no small amount of power when it came to the affairs of the Nordenfiir. She'd gambled on that, and lost.

Kol and the dwarf had finished speaking, and Kol was addressing her now, so she brought her focus back to the present. The dwarf was already moving to the door, and she stepped aside.

"Deeper into the fortress we go." He commented wryly to Ruvsa.

"Deeper we go," she murmured in agreement, just as wryly, following him and the dwarf out the door.

"Dwarf," she spoke. "What should we call you? I am Ruvsá."

She would let Kol introduce himself he wanted to do so.

 

[Kol]

"Lok'ran."​

The word was guttural, as though he were trying to force something from his throat while speaking it. By the face he made Kol guessed that it was not how the name was supposed to sound, though he offered no comment.

Instead he simply hefted the hammer. "I am Kol."

The Sorcerer said by way of introduction, inclining his head for a brief moment before he slowly turned on his heel and walked back into the hallway.

"Which way?" He asked, turning back towards the Dwarf. It was clear that Lok'ran was still somewhat...hesitant about venturing to the center of the prison. His face darkened for a moment, and then he stepped in front of Kol.

"Follow me, this place is a maze, and directions...don't always work."​

Kol raised an eyebrow, but just nodded in response.

He offered a glance at Ruvsa, and then shrugged as he fell into step behind their new companion.

 

[Ruvsá]

Ruvsá smiled. "Well met, Lok'ran."

She could not blame the dwarf for his hesitation. If she'd been locked up for millennia, forced to live a life far longer than any of her race should expect, then two strangers came and asked him to lead him to the one who'd bound him to this place?

She would be hesitant too.

"Follow me, this place is a maze, and directions...don't always work."​

"There isn't anything magic in this place that makes scents disappear, is there?" she asked. "At least... that you know of."

As long as she could scent what paths they'd taken, even if they had to... dispose of the dwarf, at some point, they would be able to work back through the maze, and maybe even out of the prison entirely, if she could scent where they'd already been.

She fell into step beside Kol then as they followed behind the dwarf. Lok'ran had implied that he'd been in that cell at least since the elf king's imprisonment, but they hadn't asked explicitly. The dwarf at least appeared to be unarmed, but she still watched him closely, ready in case he decided to turn on them instead of help them.

"I am sorry if I've seemed... paranoid," Ruvsá spoke softly to Kol as they walked. "I... had some things happen to me recently that left me wary of others. But I think the true damage was that I stopped trusting myself."

She didn't really expect an answer, but as she spoke the words aloud, she realized it was true. She had stopped trusting herself. And while, to some extent, her instincts said that Kol was dangerous, she didn't think that he would deliberately throw her in harm's way, either.

 

[Kol]

He glanced at her for a moment, almost amused at the words that she spoke. "Among my people."

How much were Nordenfiir taught about his kind?

Kol suspected it was not much. Most Nordenfiir that he had met knew precious little about their northern cousins, most only knew that they were corrupted, evil. It was not an incorrect assumption, not one that he would have fought.

Most of the time anyway.

"Trust is thin." He told her. "Sisters kill brothers. Cousins slaughter uncles. Friends stab each other in the back."

Kol remembered, he had seen it, done it. "To trust is folly in the Lost Isles."

Most would call such a life a horror.

"Life is a competition of strength among my people. Whoever is the strongest, fastest, smartest survives to get the reward." It was why they had never been a major threat to anyone outside, why they had never united. Too busy fighting amongst themselves. "Those most cunning rise to the top, those who trust..."

He trailed off. "I am used to not being trusted."

Kol told her quietly.

 

[Ruvsá]

"Life is always a competition of strength, I've found," Ruvsá murmured. "Earlier, when I spoke of the avalanche that killed my father... that was also the first time I shifted. I would have died too if I hadn't found that strength at that moment."

She gave Kol a slightly bemused glance. "Don't worry. I didn't say I trusted you.

"However... I have found that there are often different things to consider. A lack of trust is not the same as mistrust and neither of those is the same as ... assuming that every circumstance which goes awry is some larger scheme against yourself."

She did not miss the implications in his words, though. If he'd survived this long among his kind, he'd done some things that many would consider distasteful. And yet... She didn't know if she was any better, in her actions with Jorn Aggar. The only reason it had ended well for her was because Maude had won.

Yet sometimes, all one needed to do was offer the first hand of friendship.

"For now, Kol Twice-Bloodied, I will assume that you at least do not mean me any harm, unless you behave otherwise," she stated firmly. "And if we live to see the light of day again, I will treat you to a meal and some fine mead, in a place where you can put your back to the wall when you sit."

Then Ruvsá realized that the dwarf had never answered her questions about magic erasing the scents here--and she would like to know if the phenomenon she'd noticed when they first entered the place was limited to the upper level or present in the whole place--and turned her attention back to him, her eyes narrowing.

"Did you hear my question earlier, Lok'ran?" She asked, but tried to keep any annoyance out of her tone.