Knightmare Interactive Story #3
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A flickering torch illuminates a bearded man stood at the top of the flight of stone steps. He looks down disapprovingly at the wispy figure.
The Blue Cloaked figure slowly moves out from beneath the axe.
"Now then stranger" the bearded man bellows "what brings you to Knightmare Castle?"
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"You..." began the creature, before a sickly cold phlegm caught at the back of the throat and caused it to swallow. It tried again, "You... are the one they call the Dungeon Master..."
The bearded one took a single step onto the staircase. "I am also the man who hurled you back out into a raging blizzard if you hesitate to amswer me," he warned sternly, although his bearing suggested more threat than menace. "Identify yourself, and state your business."
The creature was uncertain, but then, with an elaborate flourish, it threw back the hood of its cloak. The bearded one stiffened slightly, eyes widening at the sight of what was beneath...
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"Well?" The bearded man demanded.
'Blue Cloak' looked up for the first time. The hood of the cloak fell back, revealing a familiar face.
"You!" The bearded one exclaimed "What are you doing in my castle?"
"Who is it?" Pickle asked returning to the man's side.
"That, my ignorant elf, is...........
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The face was harsh red, the eyes pale yellow with blazing pupils.
"You are a firelord!" growled Treguard. "One of the ruling dictators of the volcano-zone of the West."
"How did he get here?" cried Pickle. "Those creatures can't survive away from the heat of their homeland!"
"My name is Tellemachi," murmured the firelord, shaking against the cold. "I am here to beg for your aid, Treguard..."
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"Well then, I'm affraid you have had a wasted trip. I am no longer a mercenery who sides with anyone for the right price irespective of there belives and actions."
"My Loyalte is to The Powers That Be, I now serve only the side of truth and light. I do not aid, dictators and tyrants."
"So if you would be so kind as to remove your self from my castle and return to were you came from."
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Tellemachi raised an eyebrow. "Truth and light, Dungeon Master?" he scoffed. "What truth and light is there in a man of means and power who will not give aid to those in need?"
"And your race of butchers and bullies is in need, is it?"
"Yes!" cried Tellemachi. "I don't offer you terms as a mercenary as we have no money to give. We are here to beg for mercy, not hire an assassin."
Treguard looked grave. "Talk then, firelord. What do you wish of me?"
"Our realm may be paranoid and hostile," murmured the firelord hesitantly, "but we are never conquerors. We only protect our borders. But others have violated those borders, and attacked us with our greatest weakness... the cold!"
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Winteria! It had to be.
The witches had threatened to expand their borders for years, nearly always being foiled by the young adventurers he had sent out so long ago. Since the loss of Merlin, the phase portals to bring them here had slowly fallen into decay before being lost completely. The witches had plotted, unchecked, since then...
Treguard wouldn't be able to stay by the fire THIS time. Winteria lay deep in level 3 and the dungeon had become an altogether more dangerous place since the days of the Cup, Crown, Sword and Shield.
A simple stroll this would not be...
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"Your enemies..." murmured Treguard slowly, still unsure how far he could trust his uninvited visitor, "the name of their leader is Aesandre, n'est-ce pas?"
The firelord nodded slowly. "May I come inside the castle properly, Dungeon Master? There is a blizzard setting in, and I feel the draught from outside most strongly in my current position..."
"Very well," agreed Treguard with a frown. "Come and warm yourself by the fire, while we discuss what has befallen your homeland."
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Tellemachi, rose up and walked in to the anti-chamber in a dignified and some what arragont walk.
"Hmmm, dictators. There all alike, even when faceing death. They still retain there alofness."
Treguard thought to himself.
"So then Tellemachi. Just how did Aesandre, gain accses to your relm? I thought that the heat of the Volcano-zones was fatle to Winterans?"
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"Fear not," Treguard soothed, although with a detectable air of sarcasm. "Just a little movement of soot in the channel above the fire. Why are you disturbed by that?"
Tellemachi bristled, but then went to the fire and warmed his hands... by holding them INSIDE the flames. "It sounded like the rumble of a falling snowdrift," he muttered in embarrassment. "Many of my people have already died through the Ice Queen's invasion. She even triggered an avalanche of snow down the side of one volcano when the inhabitants were slow to DIE!"
"Your reaction was a reflex then," noted Pickle with a marked lack of sympathy.
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'Pickle....' Treguard admonished the elf only slightly.
'The Firelords may be no friends of ours, but no death should be taken lightly. In any case, we have never been in direct conflict with Tellemachi's people, wheras Aesandre allied herself with our greatest enemy.'
Tellemachi smirked slightly, even as he balks at the memory, but Pickle detected the tone of his master's voice. Treguard was saying this more to convince himself than Pickle.
'So much simpler when the villains wore skulls' muttered Treguard to himself
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"Quite right dungeon Master we Fire lords NEVER sideied with Lord Fear and His Opposition minnions."
"In ansrew to your previous question, How Aesandre and her forces were able to invade the Volcano-Zones. She didn't at first. At least not in person. The intical attack was not made by Winterian forces. But by a Mercenery known as Leytan. Who in the pay of Aesandre enterd or lands and useing magic granted to him by the Ice Queen, froze just enough of our territory to give the Winterians a foot hold in our lands."
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"Interesting," grunted Treguard. "It sounds unlikely, for it is not in Aesandre's nature to be so aggressive. Conquest is not in her nature, only securing the borders of her realm..."
"The firelord's story has the ring of truth though, Master," interjected Pickle. "He speaks honestly, beyond question." The elf paused, and gave the firelord an unfriendly look. "But that doesn't necessarily meant that he deserves our help."
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