Knights of the Nine - The Unborn Seed

Chapter 3: Patron of Poison

The wind howled, the snow falls ever so lightly. The sun blotted out by the white sky but causing brightness. The flakes grew after one fell, the tree branches quivered from the weight.

Ruins of houses and an inn, the main attraction limited to dried blood. Ronin was a wreckage, no one dwelled in the village anymore, merchants steered clear from it, the army avoided it at all costs.

Ronin didn't have any strong points after the devastating battle between the Knights of the Nine and the purple ghouls known as Gondortians. Ronin only held weak spots. Being smack dab in the middle of a forest and holding a place where evil magic and power home, it laid dead, possibly forever.

Heavy clinking on boots sounded closer, coming straight out of the blue. A flock of birds scattered, cawing away. It was a squadron of foot soldiers, King Aldir's army. The captain, riding the only horse in the group, held his men up and ordered them to stand in a line.

The whole squadron of men held their ground and stood in silence.

'Ronin,' The captain began. 'Once home to King Harold and King Visemir, now a bloody snow den full of death. It shall be our home for the time being. Set up tents, me and a few of you will scout this area, make sure there are no elves or dwarves around. Alright, let's move out!'

The crew of soldiers began doing as told while the captain and four others went out into the trees to scout out. The birch tree forest was dense and thick, little bug and wild life flavoured throughout.

------------ Trigiot -----------

'Today's the day, Quinlan.'

'We shall see.'

The inn flickered as dimly lit candles began to sputter out of life. The innkeep and a waitress being the only sound breaking the silence. The two riders sat where they did exactly two weeks previous.

The riders didn't order any drinks this time, nor any meals. They waited for a messanger, that was clear. As beggars sought out shelter in the early morning, the residents began leaving. And soon later, the port of Trigiot begun to boom with life.

Humans entered, humans left. Some for drink, some for rest. As the hours of daylight began to disappear, the riders contact emerged from the door. The messanger quickly scurried over to their table.

'Good sirs,' the messanger sat down, pulled off his hood. 'Hoxly sends his regards.'

A letter sealed in wax was handed off from the scabby hands of the messanger. Felix fingered it firmly, his eyes connecting to each word on each line. Felix then passed the letter on to the elf.

'Thank you, I presume you understand this is top secret?' Felix asked as he motioned for a waiter to come over. The messanger nodded. 'Good man. Return to Hoxly and tell him everything will be ready at Thornhill Cavern, you got that?'

The messanger nodded once more and took his leave. The riders accepted their drinks, Quinlan tipped the waitress with a purse of coin. The two riders set off to their horses and saddled them up. They boarded them and settled off to Thornhill Cavern, a three hour trip from the port city known as Trigiot.

*

The messanger arrived at the prison, stripped of his breath he quivered softly. Hoxly, consumed so much in his fake roll as head commander of the Trigiot prison, was ordering all elven and dwarven prisoners beaten - this included Derek.

'Hoxly, m'lord,' the messanger leaned onto his knees. 'Your cohorts told me to tell you that they will be waiting for you at... Thornhill Cavern.'

Hoxly looked at the messanger in disgust. 'And of the letter? I wanted that back.'