[Mkguild] story look over

[Evil humour]

Time setting: after the winter assult

Title Unknown at time of writing

Part 1



‘The land was still damp from the storm of the last night,’ Lukous thought
to himself as he dressed himself in his usual clothes and took both his
club and the fine timber he was going to sell to the merchant for
information. ‘Not that it is much of a difference,’ he thought sourly.
Stepping out of his family’s age-old home, he looked at the blacken trees
that encompassed his home and village with a sad look.  For as a long as he
could remember, they have had always looked…*wrong*. It got worse as he
walked towards to village proper, with the *wrongness* more and more
present. He had a strong feeling why it was as so, but he did not wish to
acknowledge it in his mind so early in the morning.



Stepping into the village, he drew into himself out of some primal instinct
for his own protection, but he knew that the villagers would never dare
attack him. They knew, as did he, if he were to be slain, the village would
be doomed to destroy itself. Still, he had to protect himself in case they
got bold or if Rackit decided to move out on him at long last. He did not
bother calling him Father Rackit even in his head as he had continued the
betrayal and butchering of Dualism.



Shaking his head out of those angry thoughts, he continued to the trading
office ignoring the *wrong* looking buildings and *wrong* looking people
that stared at him from their windows. He ignored them so he did not have
to look at their eyes, which bore with such horrible *wrongness* that sent
a chill down his spine. That was the second most horrible thing in the
village, save for only for center of the *wrongness*, which was what Rackit
called the last temple of Dualism. The *wrongness *of the land stemmed from
that building and contaminated almost everything in the land. Clenching his
club tighter, he walked into the building with a slight intake of air. It
had always bothered him walking into one of the buildings, but he needed to
do so to get what he wanted from the merchant. Looking around, he spotted
the merchant in the corner of the room, in table far away from the local
inhabitants. He was not as *wrong* as the rest of the people of the
village, but it was still there. With a sigh withheld, he walked over to
learn of the outside world.



~°~°~°~°~°~°



The merchant looked up at the man he knew as Lukous with mixed feelings.
His family had been trading with this man’s family for ages and they’d
always provided the best meat to sell or whatever else they had to offer.
Yet, they always had that sense of superiority of them; looking down at the
people and the village. It was a nice village, with pleasant looking tree
and vibrantly painted buildings. It was far enough north that it did not
need to worry itself of being too grand to offend any nobles nor did they
need to pay any taxes. He might set himself up here one day. Then again, he
frowned to himself; there seemed something off about the church of Ecclesia
but he could never put his finger on it.



“Hello the merchant.” The brown hair, blue-eyed man said softly with a
light bow of the head, sitting down in front of him. Like his family
before, they had always used the old greetings. It was odd, but then again,
he was not going to question it. They seemed high strung, and he didn’t
want to loose such a valuable assist this far north by offending him.



“Hello the trader.” He bowed his head back, looking at the timber the man
dropped on the table. It was exquisite and he knew that he’d make a tidy
profit by sending it to his friends to make it into furniture cheaply and
then make a fortune selling in towns to the south and west. “May your
health be well as we last meet?” He added the next part of the old greeting
and now he waited for the man to return it back so they could begin.



“I am well in health as I hope you are too.” He looked at him, with his
eyes darting around the trading office, no doubt fingering that club he had
on his belt. He had no idea why he was allowed to carry his weapon as he
was forced to hand over his but again, he decided not to push.



“I am.” There, it was done. “So I see that you have a nice assortment of
timber here, what price are you seeking?” He held back a grin; the man was
a good provider of raw material, but a poor businessman. He had no sense
for money and at times he didn’t seem to care he was being cheated!



“None, safe information.” His mouth nearly hit the table. This was too much
to belief!



“What do you wish to know, my friend?” He held back a grin, knowing there
would be a fine amount of gold waiting for him at the end of this trade.



“Of the world, my friend. I’m secluded up here and I’d wish to know more of
it.” He glared at him.



“Well, there is not much change friend.” Which was true, the world was calm
for the most part. “Well, expect of course, old Metamor.”



“Oh?” He blinked, looking confused. “Has that land fallen?”  The Keep was
known even this far north for its strength and power to keep evil creatures
at bay.



“Nay friend, but the land has become cursed.” He smiled inwards; spinning
yarns was something he did almost as well as selling goods. “It seems that
some wizard attempted to break through and laid three curses. One that made
them beasts, one that robbed of the age and one that robbed them of their
manhood.” He grunted, the last one he found the most disgusting. Becoming a
woman was far worse then loosing his age or becoming some mangy animal.
“But it seems them wizard folks were able to counter-act them or some such
and they were able to repel them. But the lands are still curse friend. No
amount of gold will make me cross into them.”



“When did this happen?” The man looked very worried all of a sudden.



“About seven or so years ago, why?” All of the sudden, the man got up from
the table and started to leave. This was very unusual, as he’d always said
the proper words for leaving.  “What’s wrong friend?” He cried out, picking
up the timber with a grunt as he tried to follow.



“Southeast.” He said over his shoulder as he started towards somewhere. The
merchant wasn’t sure why he was following him or why he was asking these
questions, but it felt right. “To Metamor Keep.”



“What?! Why?” He reached forwards to grab the man’s shoulder to make him
face him. “Be reasonable; the land is cursed and leagues away! Why’d you
want to go there?!”



“My father died about seven years ago, and if I were to guess, on the day
that curse was struck. He’d told me that Yau and Nau give him a message
that I was to leave as soon as I heard of a great change in world and as
the last believer of Dualism, I was to record and decipherer the meaning
behind the change.” He stopped and stared at the merchant.  The merchant
looked around and noticed they were out of the village and on an old road.
Yet he was not nervous. “My friend, I do believe this might be the last
time I will ever see you. Heed my words; do not come back to this village
ever again.” He paused and took a deep breath. “There is much evil in the
souls of this land and I do not wish to loose the only man I can call a
friend.”



“What do you mean by-never mind.” He waved his head, not caring to get
dragged into village politics. They had ended up in an old looking house
that had seen much better days. “Look, it’ll take you years to walk all way
to Metamor Keep. I’ll give you a ride in my wagon for the time being. In
exchange for two things, of course.”



“Name your price friend.” The man stood on his stairs, looking down.



“Your name, and a reason why I should never come back.”



“A fair price, friend. My name is Lukous and if you will come in, I will
tell you a tale.”



~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~°~

Part 2



The merchant was uneasy in his home; it was plain to see. But he needed to
know the truth. Sighing, Lukous sat down at his table in front of the
merchant.



“Before I start, you noticed something off with the… ‘Church’, correct?” He
spat out the word, hating the mockery to the deep of his bones.



“Yeah, there was something always off.” The merchant rubbed his chin,
trying to think.



“There is no graveyard.” The merchant jumped, noticing the fact that many
of the few visitors overlooked. “It’s because they follow a mockery of
Dualism and wish to hide their horrible deeds.”



Paling from realization, the merchant tried to change the conversation.
“W-what’s Dualism.” He looked around his home, noticing the blots on the
windows and the lock on the door. It was clear this house had seen
dangerous attacks in the past.



“An ancient religion, predating most.” He sat down, reliving the tale that
he had been told since he was a kid in his head. He reached into his shirt,
pulling out perfectly balanced crystal prisim. “In a land due south, the
people had worshiped two deities, Yau and Nau, life and death. They viewed
them as equal parts of the world and our interactions with the world
required proper balancing. If one were to go hunting for boar, one would
need to make sure that piglets were to come in spring. If one were to fish,
one was required to make sure they could reproduce. If a lord were to
collect taxes, he’d be required to spend it on the people he governed over.
The priests were required to tend to all, providing comfort and aid in both
good and bad times. They were there to welcome a child into the world by
using blessing from both Yau and Nau. If one was to die-” Lukous faltered,
treading on what had practically destroyed Dualism.



“What was to happen Lukous?” The merchant was entranced by the tale.



“ ‘As it came from the flesh, so shall it return in the end.’ “ He looked
at the merchant with steady eyes. “Not to kill and devour those who
disagree with the word of Rackit.” He spat in anger, hating the man. “Do
you know of the tale in the Scriptures about them finding barbaric town on
a island that were cannibals?” He sighed. “I bare them no anger. The truth
of the mater is that one of our messengers wished to create communication
with the new faith. The scholars of the time foresaw a great change and
thought by creating ties with them. I do not know what happened, but I
believe the messenger had spoke to a distant garrison that acted without
proper orders from above. The people of the ancient land were divided in
action, of either to accept them as the new faith or fight them off. A
small portion decided to flee. Only those who fled survived the onslaught.
Again, I bare no anger to the Way or their actions. Dualism’s time had come
in the great change and the Way was to flourish along with the
Lightbringers’s deities replacing Yau and Nau .”  He sighed again. “They
have been hiding, those who fled, here in fear all those years, slowly
loosing the faith. Many left to join the Lightbringers or other religions
were they would be safe. Those that stayed slowly butchered Dualism into a
dark practice. My family has spent the last several generations preventing
the town from descending into total sin. The villagers knew that fact as
well. They could have killed my family any time, they have the numbers, but
by doing so they would destroy themselves.” He sighed once more. “I have
much regret in abandoning them to themselves, but I have to follow my
orders.”



“That’s…quite a tale.” The merchant leaned back in the chair, no doubt
reeling from the information he told him. It felt good to Lukous for
another to know the tale.



“I suppose you will not be taking me to the Keep, friend.” Lukous stared at
the man across the table.



“I never said that friend.” The merchant sat up, looking up at him with
light eyes. Lukous knew the merchant was telling the truth by the eyes
alone. “I made a deal and I intend to see it through.” He spat in his hand
and held it out. “To Metamor Keep.”



Lukous spat into his hand, smiling. “To Metamor Keep.” He shook the
merchant’s hand, a deal being struck. “Thank you friend.”



“It’s Naet, friend.”
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