Varcola: Giplean 1st - Later - The Journey Continues
Varcola: Giplean 1st - Later - The Journey Continues
Introducing Klove
Later
After I left the temple for the port where all the fishermen came and went hither and thither from, to request transport from one of them. All were very obliging… that is until they heard of my destination. Initially warm and welcoming, they subtly became anxious once the isle of Teufelinselburg was spoken of.
Consternated about the reason behind their shock I was unable to press them on the subject, when one of their numbers spoke up in a surly voice. “Do not speak that name!”
“I merely meant when I spoke of it that-“
“You must not utter the name of that isle! It is evil!” Another man interrupted in a far more shrill voice; his blue eyes no less frightened.
Unfamiliar with such behavior, since I had as you well know grown up near Ackalburg, where there was naught to be feared, I did not know how to proceed. Nor did I know how best to proceed, as my orders from the deacon were of the sort that I had no other choice than to proceed. This in mind and several bronze coins in hand, which were to be offered up to the poor sailors and fishermen, only for them to be refused at once by one and all.
Most were not unsympathetic to my plight, with several making the gesture of the scales, which is to say that they made as though weighing the air from right to left, thence over the heart at last bending the hand over their temple. This was the Golden Goddess’s secondary gesture, performed by those who were either unfamiliar with the symbol of the lily or as yet disdainful of that gesture. Many were those who said to me; “We will pray for you.” With one of their numbers informing me not unkindly, “We do this to protect you, brother.”
My persistence wore on one of them. The man in question was a stooped figure, with his hair grey as the hairs that sat upon his chin, and the tunic he wore. In the midst of speaking in a hushed hiss to his wife a woman near as old as him. Though he failed to captivate my attention due entirely to the presence of his equally grey-haired, plump wife who scolded him at some length in hushed tones to which he only nodded his head absently, in a repeated fashion. Quite what it was they were speaking of was a mystery, thought it was not long before I had, with my pleas directed to others amongst the fishermen present, thereon Dunkeltrübinsel captured the attention of the two of them. The reaction of the wife was to let out a shrill cry at the sound of the name Teufelinselburg.
Startled, I leapt up what must have been at the least several dozen feet into the air at the sound of her shriek. “No! You must not go there!”
Bewildered by the sudden appearance of this woman I had never seen before, my attempts to stammer out an explanation of my duties were interrupted one and all by her rather more heated ones, pleading with me not to go. So quickly and angrily did she speak, I could hardly understand her, though after a time her husband stepped forward to calm her enough, for her to utter more slowly, “You must never go to yon island!”
“Why?” I asked of the fisherman’s wife, flabbergasted by her rather extraordinary statement, thinking her quite hysterical. Some of my feelings must have shown themselves on my face because she grew angry once more.
“Because, it is cursed!” She whimpered desperately, as she gripped me by my sleeve.
“Unhand me!” I must confess to my shame to have lost patience and unwittingly slapped her hand away from me, speaking rather more sharply than I wished. This was evident when she let slip a small squawk of alarm, with her husband quick to her side, wherefore he informed me.
“The isle of Teufelinselburg is cursed! None who have ever ventured whither have ever returned.”
“Truly?” I must admit to a sudden nervousness that had begun to find its way into my voice.
“Aye, only those with the blessings of the good Lord Orcus have returned from there.”
“Surely those of the Temple are safe from danger that are to be found thereupon the island of Teufelinselburg.”
After some time spent in the midst of an argument over the question of how safe brothers of the faith might be upon Teufelinselburg, in frustration the fisherman concluded at last. “Very well, I shall carry thee, over to the cursed isle… for a price.”
I will not bore you with the exactitudes of our bartering, I will only say that it took the better part of the hour. By the end of that time I was the poorer by ten bronze falcons (which I must confess was all the wealth on my person). As we worked the oars, and thus our way towards the other isle, a feeling of guilt overcame the fisherman, seated before me. His gaze never meeting mine after we left, that is until at last he could not stomach the silence between us, any longer.
It was thence he at last spoke, if reluctantly so, “Brother, if I may say so, you seem a good, pious sort, so that I must warn you that this is not wise. You must not go to Teufelinselburg.”
“How so?”
“You know not the suffering that lies in wait for you upon Teufelinselburg! If you should so wish, I shall not only give back to thy coin, but add to it. Just do not go whither to the baroness’s keep!”
Incredulous that he should elect to once more attempt to dissuade me from my appointed task, I demurred from his offer though. It did not offend, as it seemed rooted in kindness and thus touched me even if I remained perplexed by it. The land drew nearer though, with every movement on our part, the green of the fields, the majesty of the mountains awed the both of us. My guide however, was by no means overjoyed by our growing nearness to them, or by the beauty that lay thereupon the larger islet.
Once we drew to a halt by the shore, the fisherman stiffened. His eyes were to fix themselves on the heavens which had become heavily clouded, so that all the land had darkened, and become covered in shadows.
Bewildered by this change, and shivering because of the change in the winds I reluctantly threw my feet over the side of the boat, and into knee-deep high water.
The fisherman reluctantly gave swift directions to the only town on the isle. Instructions that was as clear as they were strident. “The town of Grautrauer lies to the north-east of here from there, to the west of the town you must take a paved if cracked road to reach the castle.” When I went to leap, he halted me if briefly so. “Beware brother; do not travel after night has fallen.”
He was to refuse to divulge why he felt this way, frustrated by his refusal to do so, in the end I leapt forth from the boat, and into the cold water.
The village of Grautrauer was of a different sort than that which I had put behind me. The previous islet was one filled to the brim with people who were one and all haunted, by the very isle I stepped foot upon. This second islet was full of an air that was disquieting or ‘akin to ice-water and brimstone’ as the battle of Morfeld was once described to me, by Sir Witand.
My first steps on land, in my soaked robes were hardly any more pleasant than my stay on Dunkeltrübinsel, with a foul mood overtaking me.
If fury was to be the chief feeling I allowed to rule over my heart and spirit in that hour, it swiftly faded after almost a day’s travel. Where the last islet’s bridges were in disrepair and houses were little more than huts, this island’s two stone bridges I crossed over were finely built. Ancient, by any standards, the grey-stones however cast dark shadows over the rivers they stretched over.
I had just crossed over the first of the two branches of the Cherna-River’s bridge, when the sound of hooves striking as might lightning upon the earth resounded throughout all the land.
Startled I was to leap several feet in the air at the sound, bewildered I almost threw myself over the side of the bridge. Only to see two horses dark as night leapt out of the horizon faster than thunder. Fearful that the rider, who was cloaked in a dark cloak, intended to trample me I very nearly did something impulsive.
Thankfully the man on the horse-drawn cart came to a clean stop some five meters from the bridge, and waited for me to approach him.
As I neared, I discovered him to be a heavily dark bearded figure, with long-fingered hands and a cold smile on his thin-lips. “Brother Arnfried, it is a pleasure to welcome you, to the fair island of Teufelinselburg.”
At these words I must admit that I could not resist a certain sweeping, doubtful glance all about us. Taking in our heavily forested surroundings, I could only once more feel a certain sense of dread. High-oaks and tall ashes, along with redwoods, birches, and all other varieties of trees loomed high over the land.
Most trees in Valholant were green, grey and brown majestic monuments to the natural world created by the gods. Those of Teufelinselburg had seemed sickly things, bent by age and sorrow in a rather peculiar imitation of many of the unbent if melancholic Elves that still remained in the forests near castle Ackalburg.
These monstrosities though inspired naught but a sense of oppression and trepidation, in all who passed by the forest. They were to cause such a sense of revulsion with their twisted, gnarled and dying shapes that for hours I had hardly dared to whisper against them. Regardless of the sense of wrongness that hung over the land, and the rage that they filled me with, whenever I so much as glanced at them. No trees, ought to my mind be filled with such darkness, or wicked intentions.
“I am indeed Arnfried, and who might you be?” I asked of the horseman who leant towards me, his breath sharp and rancid stunk of what seemed to me to be raw fish. There was a distinct air of misery and anger that clung to him as a cloak might to another man in the rain.
Cloaked and hooded, he bore himself proudly with his nails now that I was closer to him, revealed to be gnarled and abruptly shortened as though some had been chewed, whereas on some of his fingers there were no nails, as though they had been recently torn off.
“I am Klove, servant to the baroness.” He said a hint of scorn in his voice, “Now hurry along onto the horse, it is a short journey to the village yet I do not wish to take over-long.”
Klove as I was to discover was a man of tall stature, with long untamed dark locks and a thick black beard, and the sort of gaunt appearance as though he were regularly starved. Yet there was a muscular air about the dark-blue eyed man, one that gave the impression that he was far more formidable than he at first appeared.
This I discerned after he raised the hood of his cloak, shortly before our arrival into the village of Grautrauer doing so as he struggled to properly turn his head as he ventured thither. Worried after several children raced on past, keen to return to their homes their sudden movement caused Klove’s horse to rear back.
Hissing at them and cursing the servant did as mentioned, wherefore he urged me on, after him.
Grautrauer was one of the smallest I had ever seen, with gaunt individuals who lived in squalid little thatch houses and wooden ones, which were invariably all in disrepair. The sorrow and darkness that I saw all about those downtrodden homes struck. Few were there who were outside and about, even in the middle of the day. Most that were, had abandoned the safety of their homes, to tend to their crops (for each home had her own fields) and
The shadows of the houses were as wraiths, flitting and flying about so that all was darkness and all there was to be seen were men and women who could well have passed for corpses.
Pity twisted my heart so that I could hardly meet their gazes.
“What poor wretches, to live in such squalor, why do they not fish by the shore for more food, if they are so gaunt?” I asked of my guide who took but a passing glance in their direction.
“Because the Baroness forbids it,” He replied with an indifferent shrug of his large if skinny shoulders. “They once did, and had tendency to over-fish until they clashed with the isle nearest to us.”
There was some sort of falsehood somewhere in his words, yet I could not sense where it was. Whether it was that they ever had the right to fish, the Baroness had forbidden them or that they had ever clashed with their neighbours I could not tell.
With a glance at the heavens, just as the wind wove its way through the trees, past the village and thither in the direction of the north-west, Klove determined that we should stop for the evening. “It is a long journey, and it might be best to rest herein the village for the night and travel throughout the morrow.”
Startled, as the village did not seem particularly inviting, I trailed after the guard at a slight distance being unnerved by him and his domineering manner towards the villagers. He it was who swayed one of the local families, who lived in one of the larger huts, to host us, with it soon evident that this was the home of the mayor of the village.
Situated in the stables next to their house, where their small skinny pony was to be found, and with my guide after having supped upon the fattest chicken the mayor and his family had to offer hurried to the land of dreams. Sleeping at the back of the stable, with his back to me, so that I was allowed a brief period during which I could at last chronicle my journey up to this moment. I could only thank Marianne and Saga, for having protected my precious journal and letters from the Archdouvain from the waters.
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