Good Evening one and all, below is the prologue of my third book, When Gods Do Meddle. I would appreciate any feedback or comments that you would have. This is a rough draft, so I am 1000% sure that there are a great many grammatical errors. If you look my writing, entirely unedited here, please consider purchasing my first two books.

Prologue

Treasury of the Sea Kingdom

            The torches flickered and sizzled in the steady drizzle of rain. Six figures were huddled together and a seventh was wandering around the small clearing, crouched close to the ground. The group shivered and grumbled in the cold as they waited for the one that was searching the ground. Dawn was creeping over the tree line, although it was hard to tell between the dark grey rainclouds, the tall, dark pine trees, and the grey rocks around them.

            “We’ve got to be close,” said one of the figures. “I can hear the sea.”

            There were several nods and grumbles in agreement. One of the figures, a tall, thin elf with his arms crossed under his now quite damp cloak. “It’s a good thing, too. We’ve been up wandering around these cliffs for several days.”

            “Are you sure that tip of yours is good?” ground a dwarf holding a torch in one hand and the searchers pack in his hand. “I mean, why would the Sea Kingdom of Nellor put their treasury on this gods forsaken coast? They didn’t have any cities or even outposts within a hundred miles of here, even at the height of their power.”

            The elf rolled his eyes, “so you keep saying, Lorkn, but I trust my source. It makes sense to me. Have you never wondered why the legendary treasury of their Kingdom just disappeared when the Kingdom was failing. It is well recorded in their literature, and in the accounts of several travelers as well, but when their capital of Nellor fell to the Rokin Tribes there was no record of it at all. My source found this old scroll describing how they built a secret tower to hide their treasure, but there wasn’t a record of where. It took years of research for us to narrow down the location to these cliffs.”

            A short, goblin woman sighed and pinched her nose with the hand that was not hold a torch, “we know, O’vir, we know. I know you like talking about your own brilliance, but give it a rest.”

            “Well I’m sorry,” said O’vir throwing his hands up. “I’m sorry for pointing out all the hard work I put in, Rishazza. I suppose that is why you are out here in this wilderness with me, because my hard work and research has never paid off. How many of these little artefact hunts have you come with me on now?”

            Rishazza chuckled, “you’re such an ass. Okay, fine, on the dozen or so of these quests of yours we’ve always come up with what we were looking for with a good buyer lined up.”

            O’vir bowed theatrically, “and this time, we’ll be finding treasures that we can sell ourselves, we won’t need some specialized buyer.”

            A bulky man, named Tandan, shook his head at the antics in front of him before commenting, “can we put our torches out? My arm is killing me and I can see daylight. Well, as much daylight as we are likely to get around here.”

            O’vir seemed to consider this for a moment before he turned to shout at the figure still searching the clearing. “Hey, kid, do you need any torchlight still to find the path?”

            The figured turned around revealing a young face with wide and piercing eyes that seemed older than his apparent years. Scars etched the right side of his face and there were hints of tattoos on his neck. “Light or no light isn’t going to make a difference.”

            There was a collective sigh as the main group put their torches out and rubbed their sore arms. “Hey, Karron, how much longer is it going to be, you’ve been searching this clearing for while,” remarked Lorkn

            The searching man laughed, “I am looking for evidence of a path, that would be designed to be well hidden, from a kingdom that rose and fell thousands of years ago. If you’d like to come look you are welcome to.”

            The dwarf held up his hands in mock surrender, “okay tracker, okay. Just let us know when you’ve found something.”

            That seemed to be the end of the conversation for a time and the group milled around in the rain. They took some sips of water from their packs and a few nibbled on a few hard biscuits and handfuls of nuts. They were all tired and weren’t much in the mood to talk. They simply waited for Karron to find something. As for Karron, he seemed to be focusing on two small, and at a glance, unremarkable stones that stood some ten feet apart. At least, he seemed satisfied, stood up straight, and turned to the group.

            “The path is here,” he said with confidence as he pointed up between the two stones.

            O’vir responded as they all made their way over, “Are you sure? It looks there is just more forest up there.”

            Karron nodded, pointing to the base of the near stone. “Just there, at the bottom of these stones are small indentations. It is subtle, but those aren’t natural markings, especially since they are in the shape of the symbol of Nellor. If it has been one of the stones, maybe, but it is on both. I am even more sure because there is the evidence of a thin path going along the base of that cliff just up there that starts here.”

            O’vir nodded and turned back to the rest of the group who had gathered up now. “Alright, Karron, you’re the tracker, we’ll take your lead.”

            Karron moved over to Lorkn, took his pack, took a long drink of water from the large skin that was now running low, grabbed several strips of dried meat, and, munching on them, headed off at speed up the hill. The others followed. From there, the going was much quicker. It would have been hard, if not impossible, to see the path they were on from anywhere not on it, but there was no mistaking it for what it was. A few times they had to pause to find the path again, but those were only for a minute or two before Karron found the way again.

            They had been traveling for somewhat more than an hour when, climbing a short, steep hill they suddenly had a clear view of the sea. They were high up a cliff face with the water at least a thousand feet below. To their right, the rock crumbled sharply away into a straight drop into the crashing waves and jagged rocks. To the left there was a ledge that sloped down into the distance. After so long in the pine forest, climbing over rocks, it was almost overwhelming to be standing over such a vast expanse of frothing waves with stretches of grey rainclouds above them.

            While the others gaped at the sight before them, Karron was looking around with a good deal more purpose. After a moment he pointed to a pillar of rock a short distance from the cliff. “There, that rock right out there, there is a large flat surface at the top, almost impossible flat, with another spike of rock right at the top. I think that second rock is the tower.”

            O’vir nodded, clearly impressed. “You’re good, kid, I can see why you got such a good reputation, so quickly. That is definitely the tower, and even I wouldn’t have seen it despite looking for it. Now, let’s get down there and see if my research was right on how to get over there.”

            As the group made their way down the narrow path, the rain no longer seemed to be coming down so much as from everywhere at once. On the wet and slippery rocks their progress was slow and they needed to brace themselves against the rock face to their left against the whipping winds. Their hoods were blown off their heads and their cloaks were twisting and turning in the wind. Within minutes they were all cold and soaked but with the end goal in sight, none of them seemed to mind and their face were eager and determined.

            It took nearly an hour to get to the bottom of the path which was a wide plateau of rock where the rocky cliffs made a sharp turn. To the left the path twisted upwards and out of sight. To the right the plateau came to a point that was a sharp dropped into the sea. The area was level with the top of the jagged pillar of rock on top of which was the pile of stone that was the treasury they were seeking. The distance between them was perhaps a hundred yards, but even a quarter that distance on a clear day would have been impassible without gear they did not have with them.

            The group stood there, staring the gulf between themselves and their goal, panting in the wind. Ba’an’tan, a tall mountain troll with flint like skin and small, silver eyes, crossed his arms and sighed, “did anyone bring any rope? If we can weight it down just enough against the wind I might be able to get it over there.”

            Lorkn grunted as he pulled his rain-soaked hood over his head, realized it was wetter and colder than the rain around them, and took the hood back down. “We’ve got rope, but not enough. And even if we did have enough, and we were able to secure a line on the other side, we’d never be able to climb over there in this wind.”

            Ba’an’tan uncrossed his arms and dropped them to his hips. “What about you, Gletta, can you conjure us a portal over there?”

            Gletta, a tall, broad shouldered human of middle age drew her soaking wet cloak around herself and shook her head. “Sorry, Ban dear, but my expertise is in curses and enchantments, and I doubt I would have the power even then. O’vir has more raw power than I do and I don’t think even he’d have the power or the control to get us over there.”

            The troll rolled his eyes at the human mage’s nickname for him but did not respond, merely tapping his bare, rocky foot on the stone ground. No one said anything at first but finally Tandan, who had been stretching his tired limbs and trying, in vain, to wring his cloak out, noticed that of all of them, O’vir was searching the ground and periodically consulting a small scrap of parchment he was trying to block from the rain.

            “What are you doing, O’vir?” asked Tandan, giving up on getting the water out of his cloak.

            The question had to be repeated several more times before O’vir took notice and turned to look at the group, who were all now looking at him with a puzzled expression. “Oh, sorry, there is a way over there without having to use a portal or rope. When Nellor built this tower, they made sure that there was a secret way to get over there. Gletta, I am going to need you in just a moment. I think I’ve found the two keys but we’ll need to activate them both together.”

            “At your service, boss,” nodded the mage as she stepped forward. O’vir pointed her over to a cluster of stones on a flat, raised rock that was about 10 feet short of the jutting point of rock that came closest to the Treasury they sought. O’vir moved to the small pit of sand to the left about the same distance away the point of rock.

            “Okay, first off, I am going to trace the Waves of Nellor in this pit of sand while you arrange those stone into the Royal Trident, symbol of the Veron Emperors.” O’vir proceeded to trace three waved lines in the sand with his finger, each the same distance apart and moving down, up, and then down again. At the same time Gletta arranged the pile of stone into the shape of a trident.

            Once they were done, there seemed to be a shift in the air and a feeling of energy all around them that even those of them no magically inclined could sense. O’vir and Gletta both stood up straight and stared out towards the pinnacle of rock. O’vir spoke slowly and carefully, “okay, reach out and feel for the edges of the enchantments protecting this place. Got ahold of it?”

            Gletta had her eyes closed and her arms wide, palms facing the pinnacle of rock. There was a faint, bluish glow swirling around her and between her, the circle of stone, and the edge of the cliff. O’vir was in a similar stance and the same glow of energy flowed between him, the sand, and met with the energy flowing from Gletta at the edge of the cliff. Gletta said slowly, “ready.”

            “Next, make the sign of the waves.” Both O’vir and Gletta slowly raised their right hands and crossed it over to the left side their bodies and moving left to right, palms level with the ground, their hands traced the down, up, down pattern of the Waves of Nellor. Twice more their hands traced the pattern in the air and once the third waive was done, the swirl of magic grew in strength and became a deeper blue.

            “Finally,” said O’vir, breathing quickly. “Hold up three fingers, like a trident, stab it towards the pinnacle, hook her fingers, and pull back sharply.” Both mages raised their right hands with the thumb and little finger bent down and the other three pointed straight up. After a moment they both thrust theirs arms forward. The flow of energy was now positively furious. They both curled their fingers down, like a hook, and with that the energy seemed to be frozen in place. They pulled their arms back as if dragging something, and the flow of energy reversed suddenly and with a pop the blue energy seemed to blast away from the point of rock. O’vir and Gletta were dropped hard on their backs while everyone else was staggered backward and there was the sound of a massive splash of water down below.

            O’vir and Gletta seemed slight stunned and took a moment to collect themselves and get off the hard ground. They were not helped by the rest of the group, who were all staring open mouthed at what was once open air and was now a curving bridge of stone that linked the plateau they were on with the pinnacle of rock. It was about 3 people wide, and curved right then left before coming back to center.

            Once he had recovered himself enough to stand and take in the sight for himself, O’vir exclaimed, “by the Power of Mendon, that actually worked!”

            Rishazza laughed, “careful O’vir, mocking the God of the Seas while standing on a cliff face over the edge of one of those seas is perhaps not the smartest thing. Although he’ll have to race me because if you seriously dragged us out here without being sure it would work, I’ll shove you into the water myself.”

            “I’ll help,” chuckled Lorkn.

            O’vir joined in the laughter, “I would never drag my dearest friends and compatriots into this bleak wilderness without thinking we would all come away with treasure. But I didn’t think it would work this quickly. And I’ve said far worse about the gods than mock gratitude, and I’m still here.”

            The water below crashed particularly loudly against the cliff and the wind winded gusted for several seconds. Tandan shook his head and moved forward toward the bridge with Ba’an’tan close behind, “well, maybe still be careful while we’re out here, this would be a bad time for your luck, or the patience of the gods, to run out.”

            The wind over the bridge, with no rocks to block is passage and sped up by the narrow space between the cliffs and the pinnacle of rock, howled. Tandan was forced to brace himself by hunching over as his cloak streamed away from him. He had barely stepped foot on the bridge when a particularly strong gust caused the man to lose his footing. Tandan would have fallen to his death had Ba’an’tan reacted in time to grab onto the pack on his back and drag him to safety. Both were panting from shock of it all as the rest gathered around them to make sure that Tandan was okay.

            Karron regarded the bridge carefully, “that is a clever defense. I have only minimal familiarity with magecraft but I don’t think that is an enchantment. With the wind along these cliffs, and such a thin and twisting bridge, even on a sunny day that would be a treacherous journey. I am not sure how we are going to get over there. Is there anything in your notes about how to get over there?”

            O’vir gather himself for a moment and smiled, “the information I found did mention something about the wind, but not what to do about it. I put a lot of thought into it and while it isn’t particular original, I have an idea.” With that, O’vir strode forward and, as he got to the bridge, he took a deep breath, held out his left hand in the direction the wind was coming from with a flat palm pointing outward. With an thrum in the air, the wind and rain seemed to hit a barrier some 5 yards to O’vir’s left and parted around him. This left a space a few feet in front of and behind him that was free of wind and rain.

            “Quickly,” shouted O’vir through gritted teeth. “You’ll need to huddle close to me, I can’t clear an area larger than this and we need to hurry. I am not sure how long I can hold it. The wind is very strong.”

            Needing no further prompting, the other six rushed forward and huddled in the small window of clear air around O’vir. When they were all together, they began moving their way forward with as much speed as they could manage on the still slippery bridge. Lorkn and Ba’an’tan worked together to guide O’vir’s steps so he could maintain his concentration of the spell his was casting to block the wind. There were a couple moments where O’vir, and the spell, seemed to falter but finally they made it to the flat top of the pinnacle of rock. The edges of the ground were curved up slightly, enough to block the wind, and they all collapsed from nerves and exhaustion.

            O’vir in particular lay on the wet ground, gasping for air. Rishazza fetched out her water skin and gave the elf a drink. This seemed to revive him somewhat, but it was still several minutes before he had recovered enough to get up. At last he stood, stretched, and rubbed his head.

            Gletta was the one to break the silence, “what now, boss?” On being addressed, O’vir turned away from the group and looked towards what still looked like just a tall, thin, and pointed rock. At its base, it took up about half of the area of the larger pinnacle they were now standing and came to a sharp point at least a hundred feet higher.

            “Next,” said O’vir, still a little out of breath. “We find the entrance to the treasury. Spread out and look around the base of the tower. It should look like an archway carved into the rock.”

            With that, the seven treasure hunters spread out and searched the base of the tower. It did not take long before Karron called out. “I think I’ve found it!”

            O’vir laughed, “I was hoping you would.”

            The group gathered around Karron, who was about halfway around to the left from where the bridge came in. It took him several minutes to make them all see, but there was no mistaking they had found the entrance. There was an archway of rock about a foot taller than Ba’an’tan and just a little narrower than his arm span that was ever so slightly a lighter color than the rest of the stone. The area within the archway was slightly recessed, it would have just looked like weathering without seeing the archway itself.

            “Excellent,” said O’vir, clapping Karron on the back. “You’re up, Tandan. There should be a catch somewhere that will allow us to open the door.”

            Tandan nodded, “I’ll need your eyes, Karron, I imagine it is going to be well hidden.”

            Karron and Tandan moved forward and began carefully searching the area within the archway. The rest of the group took their packs off their shoulders for a bit of a rest. The sun, barely visible through the gray clouds, was now high in the sky, and they took a little time to eat some food and drink some water. Every one of them wished they could light a fire and warm themselves up, but there was no wood around to burn.

            It took a few minutes before the two searchers started talking excitedly between themselves, and they were gathered around a small knot of rock just to the right of center of the alcove. Various tools and instruments appeared, were tested, and then disappeared back into Tandan’s pack. Finally, with a shout of success, there was an audible shifting of rock, and both Tandan and Karron pushed their shoulders into the rock which shifted inward a few inches.

            “We’ll need some help shifting this,” grunted Tandan as he pushed against the stone door. Lorkn, Ba’an’tan, and Rishazza all darted forward and joined in on pushing. It took several minutes, but finally the stone doorway was open enough to allow them all to pass.

            One by one, they filed their way in, carrying their packs with them. The entrance to the tower hardly called to mind the stories they had spent weeks hearing O’vir tell them about the great Treasury of Nellor. In the dim light filtering in from door, all they saw was a dark room with moldering tapestries and some scraps of rotting wood and a door with what looked like rusted hinges on the far side. They stowed their packs together along one wall and took their torches out. With a waive of her hand, Gletta lit them all.

            Standing near the door, O’vir turned and address the group. “Okay, let’s give the tower a once over. Anything you can easily carry, grab and bring back here. Gletta and Lorkn will stay here and check them over. Any chests or larger items, try to remember where they are and we’ll come back and grab them later. I know it looks disappointing, but this Treasury has laid, abandoned for several thousand years. There’s bound to be stuff in better shape around here.”

            With that, O’vir turned and all but Gletta and Lorkn proceeded through the door. The room beyond was much fuller. There were various piles of odds and ends throughout the room, and several other doors on the walls around the room. Several others of the group started looking around the picking through the items. But O’vir kept on going.

            On right side of the room, one of the doors opened into a stair the spiraled up and to the right. After climbing at least 50 feet up, the stair ended in another room. This one had various chests with rusted hinges along the walls and several piles of what looked like tarnished metal.

            Those were not, however, the thing that caught O’vir’s eyes. At the center of the room, on a low stone plinth, was an urn of pitch black stone. It was about two feet high and as many wide. It had a flat bottom which rested against the plinth, narrowed and then flared out to a flat top. On either side were curved handles of the same stone. Whatever stone it was made of, O’vir did not recognize, and it seemed to almost absorb the light of the torch. In fact, it was hard to look at it for long.

            O’vir seemed to hesitate, as if unsettled by what he was seeing, but in the end seemed to decide that this must be one of the great treasures he was looking for, he moved forward and stopped right in front of the urn. Taking a deep breath he reach forward and grabbed one of the handles.

            The urn seemed to erupt in black smoke and O’vir screamed. The thick smoke filled the room and raised towards the door down the stairs. Other screams joined that of O’vir, and then there was silence.

            The screams of O’vir and his group echoed out of the small pool of almost motionlessly calm water at the center of the room. The images of the final hours minutes of their lives flickered across the water and when the black smoke filled the entire room, it was once more calm, replaced by a reflection of the high, domed chamber. The chamber was made of crystal and white stone, with a lightness and sense of delicacy in sharp contrast to the gruesome images that had just played.

            Standing on the edge of the pool of water were too figures. One of them was a tall woman, almost blinding to look out, clad in white with strings of clear crystals around her waist and neck. A crown of radiant light floated above her white blond hair and she stared at the other figure, awaiting a response.  The second figure was a powerfully built man with muscular arms and legs, a bald head, and full bear flecked with grey. He wore a red tunic bound at the waist by a thick belt. He had a cuirass of armor on his chest, intricately carved with the figure of a large dragon and had bracers and boots with metal shin-guards of the same metal, similarly decorated. At first glance he looked almost mundane compared to his companion.

            Finally, he cleared his throat and said gruffly, “So, Ymrin, the God of Night, has been released once again. Why haven’t you other gods done something to stop that happening. Well, what vague excuse to you have for me this time, Werra?”

            Werra, the Goddess of Day, sighed, “we have driven Ymrin out of the Divine Realm and he cannot effect this Terra on a grand scale, but that leads to his spirit being trapped in the Mortal Realm. There we can do little more than help the mortal races face and defeat him and trap him, for a time.”

            The man rolled his eyes and asked a new question, “how long ago was this?”

            Werra shrugged, “about 3-4 years ago. It is hard to be certain. We started hearing of new gatherings and movements of Ymrin’s followers, and new activity around his fortress on the continent of night. We sent agents to the Treasury of the Sea Kingdom and found it broken open and empty with the Urn of Binding that held Ymrin’s spirit nowhere to be found. It took a little time for us to call up the memories left in the place, but finally they were able to get this.”

            “Why now?”

            Werra raised her eyebrow at the man and open her arms to signal that she needed more information from him.

            “Why have you called me in now?” said the man. “Ymrin escapes his imprisonment every five or then thousand years. You’ve never called me in before.”

            Werra sighed, “in the past, there has always been a great empire, or empires, to oppose Ymrin, or at least some area of the world where there was the potential to form one, with our help. But right now, the mortals of our Terra are scattered and feuding with each other. Even once he starts moving openly, it will be some time before there is much in the way of resistance.”

            “So,” said the man with a chuckle, “after years beyond count of me warning you something like this would happen, it finally has. Ymrin is freed and you don’t have a way to deal with it. If I saw know, what is your plan?”

            Werra looked grim in responding, “we have our usual methods of granting wisdom and favor to our supplicants in the Mortal Realm, and artifacts of power to aid in their fight. Know that there are limits on what we can do, by your own Ancient Laws, we have also summoned a Choir of Angelorum.

            The man tensed on hearing this, “which one?”

            “It is the Choir of Laerith, I believe.”

            The man turned fully and stared Werra down. He seemed unbothered by the brilliant light that seemed to shine from within her, but she had difficulty in meeting his piercing gaze. “Do you know what you are in for, they won’t just help you oppose Ymrin, they will root out all of his supporters, or even those sympathetic to him, and then they’ll turn against anyone that they feel is living a wicked life. They may well help you defeat Ymrin, but it will be a long and deadly few years for this terra.”

            Werra nodded solemnly, “I was uncomfortable with the decision reached by the other divinities of this Terra, which is why I called for you. I have heard of and seen you work wonders over the years. Is it not perhaps time for the Crystal Blade to come forth?”

            The man stopped and regarded the pool around which we stood intensely, as if he were willing it to divulge some secret or clue that had been missed. He tapped his foot and muttered slightly to himself while Werra waited patiently.

            After a long moment, he sighed, “alright, I will help you, but I have several conditions.”

            “Name them.”

            “First, I do this my way. I am here to stop Ymrin with the minimum of deaths in the process. I don’t care about whatever narrative you are trying to spin with your followers or about the great game of power and influence you all play.”

            “I would expect nothing less of you.”

            “Second, the Choir of Laerith is to know nothing about my presence on this Terra unless I should choose otherwise. Even if they start getting heavy handed, trust that I know, and do not reveal my presence unless I say otherwise.”

            “We shall speak nothing of you to the Angelorum.”

            “Finally, this is the last time. However this turns out, whether my plan is what takes down Ymrin, or the Angelorum do, he is to never threaten this Terra again.”

            Werra stepped forward in protest, “but he is a god, while this Terra exists he cannot die.”

            “I know,” flared the man. “but there are other option. He can be trapped in some remote corner of the Divine Realm, his power can be broken and scattered forever, as well as some other options. Whatever we decide to do, his threat to this Terra and its peoples will end.”

            Werra seemed unsure of this, but at last she nodded, “fine, this will be the last war with Ymrin.”

            “Very good,” said the man. “Then I shall be on my way and begin making my preparations.” With a low bow, he turned and walked away, after a few steps he vanished in a flash of light.

            Werra’s face immediately turned grim at his disappearance and she let out what could only be described as a long sigh. From one side of the room, almost at the same moment, another figure entered the room. He was also tall, with windswept gray hair and blue and gray robes that seemed to billow naturally around him. A crown of water floated above his head.

            When he was standing beside Werra at the pool of water he asked her, “did he agree to help?”

            “Yes,” she nodded. “Although as predicted he was not happy about it?”

            “Does he realize that he is just hear as insurance in case the Angelorum get out of hand?”

            Werra chuckled, “almost certainly, although I wouldn’t be too surprised if whatever he is planning succeeds as well. He demanded that however this ends that this is the last time Ymrin threatens the people of this Terra.”

            The man nodded, “you predicted that he probably would. We’ll make sure we have something in place in case he tries to enforce that.”

            Werra nodded, “of course, we should tell the others now as well.”

            The man nodded and turned to leave. “of course, we’ll make sure the rest of the Gods and Goddesses of this Terra are ready for whatever the Dragon King has in mind. But for now, all we have to do is watch, and wait.”

            Werra looked somewhat skeptical at this, but said nothing. After one more long look into the pool of water, she turned and followed the man, the God of the Sea, out of the chamber.