[Mkguild] MK: The Unknown Arrival -- Chapter one

[Hallan Mirayas]

Interesting premise, Vikedal.  I like it!

Hallan

Date: Sun, 28 Sep 2008 19:34:25 -0600
From: vikedal at gmail.com
To: mkguild at lists.integral.org
Subject: [Mkguild] MK: The Unknown Arrival -- Chapter one

Hope you guys like it, It's still a work in progress, but it's going smooth.
Vike.
 =


The Unknown Arrival.
 =

~~ Chapter One - A Campside Revelation ~~
 =

    "Another late night," the man breathed, as he walked down the road from=
 Midtown to Metamor Keep. "No horse to ride in on, no fanfare, no party. Th=
e same, old Metamor Keep I left 50 years ago. If only this blasted journey =
could go faster without my being noticed." The man, who for the purposes of=
 this story shall be called Vikedal, had been walking since the mountain pa=
ss Giftum; the weather delaying him and killing his horse. "Ever since I re=
ached the coast," he said, "I've had nothing but rotten luck. One storm in =
a hundred years, and it chooses to appear precisely when I enter the pass. =
Maybe our weather mage can tell me why."
    As he continued down the road, his oh-so-cheery disposition caused many=
 to take pause, wondering why this man, who seemed to give many the impress=
ion of the groundskeeper of the Keep, one not seen for 50 years, seemed to =
be so downtrodden. The few who happened upon him looking forward along the =
road immediately caught his eye, and as he locked eyes and nodded to them, =
as he did every stranger he met, they would miss a step along their path, n=
oticing the long slits and fire-red coloring he had for eyes, and hurry alo=
ng to their destinations. Of course, this would cause the man to again lock=
 his eyes at his feet, and silently curse the long misunderstanding of drag=
ons outside the Keep.
    As the sun began to set a few miles down the road, he lit a small torch=
 and continued along his way, stringing his bow for good measure. After it =
became too dark to see more than a few feet in front of the torchlight, he =
decided to settle and camp along the road for the night, in a small clearin=
g just off the side of the path. He meticulously unloaded his small heap of=
 belongings, digging through his pouch for his flint and tinder, and grabbi=
ng his water pouch, before heading out into the woods to find water and fir=
ewood. As he was collecting his wood, however, a small crunching of leaves =
caused him to take pause for a moment, remaining dead still as he listened =
for, but could not find, the source of the sound. He continued collecting t=
he remainder of the wood he would need for the night, and headed to a nearb=
y creek to fill his modest water pouch.
    Again, a small crunching of brush, and a snapping of a twig, caused him=
 to go into an alert mode, listening for even the faintest breathing over t=
he burbling of the creek. Again, however, he found nothing, and continued t=
o fill his pouch, corking it when it was full to the brim and heading back =
to where he had set up camp. He cleared a small area for a fire pit and set=
 up the fire, sparking it slowly, cursing the wind all the while, and wishi=
ng he was back in the Keep, where he could simply torch a fire into existen=
ce. Stealth, however, dictated that he keep quiet. This part of the land wa=
sn't exactly known for its friendliness towards dragons. He finally caught =
a small ember, and shortly had a decent-sized fire going, and let it warm u=
p as he pitched his small one-man tent.
    Reaching into his rucksack, he pulled out a small metal container label=
ed, "Food". As he dug through it, the smell of heavily preserved and salted=
 meats sliced through the air like a knife, and made him recoil slightly. "=
Well, at least I can refresh my supplies when I get back... and hopefully w=
ith less salt this time. I suppose that's what I get for asking someone who=
 doesn't know me and expects me to sail back to Metamor to prepare my food.=
.." As he pulled out a small wire holder, and set it and a skillet over the=
 fire pit, he again, heard a crackling of leaves, this time looking immedia=
tely at it and seeing a small shadow in the darkness. Making sure he had hi=
s bow and quiver within reach, he called, "you may as well get over here. I=
t's cold out there, and you look hungry."
    As the figure approached the clearing, it appeared to be a thin man, ap=
pearing in his mid-30's and almost six feet tall, stumbling a little on his=
 approach. "Guess you caught me then. You're better than I thought." he lau=
ghed, "If I'd known that I would have tried harder." Vikedal replied a bit =
shortly, "My specialty is in stealth, but it wouldn't have taken someone of=
 my skill to catch you just then." He sighed and gestured towards the fire,=
 "You might as well join me, I've got more meat than I need." The man seeme=
d to accept this as an answer, for the moment, and approached the fire, cho=
osing to seat himself on a stump a little farther from the fire than was co=
mfortable. As Vikedal threw two hearty slabs of meat on the skillet, they l=
oudly sizzled and began popping, and Vikedal quickly grabbed a small screen=
 from the sack behind him and threw it over the meat.
    The man thought to himself, "I wonder if he's skittish about magic. I s=
uppose I could pretend I have none, but it may get awkward. Perhaps a small=
 test?" and he pulled a small canteen out of seemingly nowhere, plain to Vi=
kedal's sight. Vikedal didn't even flinch at the sudden appearance of the b=
ottle, and the man raised an eyebrow at Vikedal. "Not many would be that co=
mfortable if something had just appeared in front of them, Mr...?" he trail=
ed off, waiting for a response. "Vikedal's the name. Just Vikedal, and I've=
 got my reasons," he said, looking up for the first time at the man, reveal=
ing his fiery red eyes, and subtly using a small amount of magic to see the=
 man's aura. "Ah, um... I'm Kit. Kit Calico, but most just call me Kit," he=
 said, looking down slightly before continuing, "Umm... could you stop look=
ing at me like that? It sorta itches..." "Most don't like me looking at the=
m, something to do with my eyes." Vikedal said, looking away a little embar=
rassed. "Call it my mark of shame outside of... my home." "And where is tha=
t," Kit inquired. "For the last fifty years, an uncharted continent far to =
the west." "Fifty years? You don't look nearly that old." Kit replied a bit=
 suspiciously. Vikedal snorted. "Says the wizened, ancient 30-year-old mage=
," he snapped back sarcastically.
    Kit just laughed. "True enough," he said, moved on. "So, you do know ma=
gic?" Kit asked. "A fair bit," he replied, "but I rarely use it outside the=
-- my home, and even less so out here. We aren't the best understood of cre=
atures." Kit looked at Vikedal inquisitively at the mid-sentence pause, but=
, for the moment, dismissed it and said instead,  "Pardon my asking, but...=
 'We'? Aside from the eyes, you look normal to me." The word 'look' was emp=
hasized a little, but not noticeably so. "Yeah," Vikedal replied, "aside fr=
om the eyes, I'm trying to look as normal as possible. However, I've learne=
d through the years that as cliched as it sounds, normal is overrated." As =
he reached into his bag to get a fork and turn the meat, Kit said, "Overrat=
ed as it is, you still haven't answered my question." "Hmm... True," Vikeda=
l said, "Alright, fair enough. I'm a dragon."
    Kit paused mid-breath with the water canteen still in his mouth as he s=
tared at his fireside companion. After a moment or two he resumed drinking,=
 and re-corked the canteen. After he swallowed he said a bit thoughtfully, =
"Well I must say I didn't see that one coming. Although I suppose it does e=
xplain some things..." Vikedal looked at the mage cautiously. "Things? What=
 things? I didn't think anything was giving me away." Kit froze in place, e=
yes wide as he tried to come up with an explanation. "Umm... well.... the e=
yes!" he said, grasping at the most obvious oddity available. "And your age=
! You look no older than I do, but you speak of fifty years as a casual thi=
ng." Having found an explanation, Kit visibly calmed down. With a panic att=
ack like that there was no way Vikedal would believe him, but he had a cove=
r to stick to now if pressed.
    "I'll take that as 'it's personal' and leave it at that; got it," he sa=
id, eyeing Kit curiously, "although don't freak out so much. It's not like =
I'm going to kill you or anything; it's that impression that makes humans h=
ate us already!" As he turned the meat, he noticed that it was approaching =
rare and heating fast, so he pulled his chunk off of the skillet and asked,=
 "How well do you want it?" "Medium rare'll do," Kit said. As he cooked the=
 meat a little further, he asked Kit, "Just what are you doing out here any=
ways? It's not like I'm obvious from the road or anything." "I just like to=
 travel," said Kit, "And I wanted to see how long I could go without you no=
ticing me. I didn't last very long did I?" "Not in as many words, no," he s=
aid, laughing a little and pulling the meat off of the skillet onto another=
 plate. Kit nodded, "But mostly I was just curious. You seemed odd and I wa=
nted to know more." Vikedal thought about that for a moment but decided to =
ignore it as under the 'personal' thing. Instead he withdrew from his bag a=
nother set of cutlery and handed it and the plate to Kit. "I'm afraid I don=
't have much for seasoning. A little fresh pepper, that's it," Vikedal said=
, setting the small pepper pouch next to him and getting up to kick over th=
e skillet and holder.
    As he sat back down onto his log, he looked at Kit and said, "I hope yo=
u don't mind," as his face and head pulled and shifted into a dragon-like s=
nout and ears, and he began digging into his meat. "It's easier for me to e=
at this way." As he began to eat his slab of meat, Kit stared in fascinatio=
n for at least five minutes as the dragon-man continued to eat. As he finis=
hed, he looked over at Kit, oblivious, and said "You should eat that before=
 it gets cold." Kit nodded mindlessly and started to lift the first bite to=
 his mouth, but continued to stare until Vikedal had finished eating, hitti=
ng his cheek once or twice before finding his mouth. Once Vikedal had finis=
hed and shifted back into a more human form, Kit payed more attention and f=
inished as well before looking back over and asking "You're heading for the=
 Keep, aren't you?" Vikedal looked amazed, and said "How did you know that =
was my home?" Kit smirked and waved his fork at Vikedal triumphantly. "You =
said something about appearing normal in your home, and the only place wher=
e people look like you is the Keep!" A confused look crossed Vikedal's face=
. "What do you mean, 'Look Like Me', I'm one of the only dragons at the Kee=
p!" Kit smiled, as though a bolt of lightning had struck in his head, and s=
aid "50 years, that's right. You'll see." As Vikedal opened his mouth to co=
ntinue further, Kit silenced him with a dismissing wave of his fork and sai=
d, "Trust me, you'll find out. Call it my little surprise. I just came from=
 there."
    Vikedal nodded uneasily, accepting the answer for the time being. As he=
 began to unpack his belongings that he'd need for the night, however, he n=
oticed one small problem. "Uhm, Kit," he began, looking down at his belongi=
ngs, "My tent only has room for one." But as he turned around and looked, h=
e saw a rather colorful two-person tent that seemed to shift color as he wa=
tched. "I've got it covered," Kit replied. Vikedal turned and placed his bl=
anket and straw pad inside the tent, and hung his bow and quiver on a small=
 loop inside the tent at the top. "Why do you always have that bow within r=
each," Kit asked curiously. "It's my only weapon that I'm skilled with. I m=
ean, I have knives and such in my traveling cloak and in my tunic, but I wa=
s never very skilled with a knife. I really only mastered the art of the bo=
w." He was, as always, understating the truth. He could defend himself well=
 enough in close combat with a knife or dagger, but when he had throwing kn=
ives or a bow, he could easily hit a target at 100 meters with a knife, and=
 easily 300 meters or more with a bow.
    "Neat," Kit replied, while still setting up his own tent. Vikedal went =
over to the fire with his blanket, and set it down so that it was curled ab=
out a foot away all around the fire pit. As Kit turned and saw him setting =
up his blanket, he muttered, "Why did I never think of that?" "What," Viked=
al said, cocking an eyebrow at him, "You never thought of warming your blan=
ket on a cold winter night?" He sounded a bit surprised as Kit didn't seem =
to be stupid. "Well, never around a fire," Kit said," I always just warmed =
it when I curled it around me or with magic. Your way seems better and more=
 efficient." That made more sense to Vikedal so he continued, "A kindly str=
anger along the road back near Sanctuary,  North of the Great Barrier Mount=
ains, taught me that one." Kit's eyes widened a little at the mention of it=
, "Sanctuary? Wow, you do get around." "I've had time to get pretty much ev=
erywhere around Metamor." Kit's eyes widened even more at that. "Everywhere=
? Just how old are you?" Vikedal sighed at the mention of his age, and bega=
n ticking away on his fingers, "Let's see, The elves were in the Keep when =
I found it.... well, I stopped counting at around two hundred and fifty tho=
usand years, so... that makes me around three hundred thousand, give or tak=
e a century or two."
    "Wow, you're practically ancient!" Kit exclaimed with amusement before =
looking over at Vikedal and catching a glare from him. "I'm not that old. F=
or my species, I'm only about thirty or so." "Well, I guess that makes you =
a wizened, ancient thirty-year-old, now doesn't it?" Kit replied, smiling. =
"Touch=E8," Vikedal said, laughing. As Kit crawled into his tent, Vikedal w=
ent over and put all of his equipment in the back of his tent, then retriev=
ed from his rucksack a large, square piece of normal-looking green cloth. H=
owever, as he threw the cloth over his tent and hammered down pegs into the=
 corners, Kit noticed that the cloth seemed different.


  =

    Upon closer inspection, he realised he could see Vikedal, on the other =
side of the tent, through the cloth. "An invisibility cloak?!" Kit exclaime=
d. "Not really," Vikedal explained, "Just a piece of fabric that mimics the=
 surrounding environment. Not invisibility, per se, just for hiding." "Mine=
 does that too if someone gets too close, but it just blends in. Yours is j=
ust awesome!" Kit said admiringly, looking over the cloth again. Vikedal sn=
orted, "Yeah, but if someone's really looking for you, they'll find you und=
er this anyway. It just helps keep thieves out of my stuff while I'm asleep=
." Vikedal retrieved his canteen and put out the fire, then crawled into hi=
s tent, saying, "One more day. one more day of travel to the Keep."
    Falling asleep, however, proved harder than it should have been. It sta=
rted with thinking about Kit's comment. Soon, that grew to the, "I wonder i=
f something happened," the, "maybe dragons invaded the Keep," and the ever-=
cheerful, "what if everyone there is dead." Eventually, he did fall into a =
light, albeit fitful, sleep. As he awoke the next morning and crawled out o=
f his tent, he looked around and saw that Kit was gone. "Sneaky bugger... I=
'll have to catch him next time he comes to the Keep." As he rolled up and =
packed his tent and supplies, he heard the noisy bustling of caravans nearb=
y. "I guess I wasn't that far from the road," he thought to himself, taking=
 a drink of water before throwing his gear onto his back and chewing though=
tfully on a bit of dried meat. Walking back onto the road, he found himself=
 a bit more cheerful, but even that was quickly extinguished as people saw =
his eyes again, and their hurried whispers only reminded him of how much he=
 wanted to be home.


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