A King's Sorrow - Prologue: A Season For All Things

Story by Ser Jonny Bean McGoatpants on SoFurry

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#1 of A King's Sorrow

Rorik Kodor; respected king of the North Realms of Vaaldus, unrivaled warrior of ice and stone, father and husband to a loving family. He gave it all away, taking the fall for an unwarranted crime beset on his son. Now he wanders around the vast kingdom of Vaaldus, trying to strike out a new path.

But, it seems even more is amiss... Romulus Feldein, a friend of Rorik and king of the kingdoms of Feldein is usurped in blood, and his heirs have gone missing! Who knocked these kings from their thrones? Are the heirs still alive? Action, drama, romance, and comedy abound as we journey towards these answers, and more!

Here's a prologue I decided to write that takes place during the battle that ultimately resulted in Rorik's exile. I'm hoping that this introduces something very important: the religion. As for why? Well, I'll let you decide that for yourself. ;3

Feedback and criticisms are welcomed and appreciated!

Comment/Rate please!

Special thanks to Casey Would for editing, and to theslipperiest for being my brainstorm buddy!

EDIT: Fixed some parts here and there, and expanded on a few things that needed it!


Elsa Faern drifted through the cold starlit winters night. Tonight was a very important night for her, as she was the very instrument to enact the will of her Faith... Of her church. The church of Mother Moon, goddess of peace. The black cloak enshrouding her graceful form made the feline a shadow ghosting across the plain of white snow, keeping her hidden as she passed shadow to shadow, tree to tree, her measured paw-steps leaving no tracks. Work in peace. Act in secrecy. Live in shadow, she mused to herself as she crept through the forest.

Cool blue and sad eyes scanned through the darkness until she found it. The mark, the white hand holding the red leaf... The barbarian's leader shall be here. Her eyes turned to the pale lit moon. Mother, I pray you to give me strength for this night.

"Ah, p'etty guhl of th' moon," came a voice thick with improper tongue. The lizard who seeped from the shadows like poison from a wound was the man she needed. A tall, gaunt faced thing with gnarled arms and one eye His voice had a harsh, black tone seemed to slither down Elsa's ears, and that flicking of the forked tongue clutched her spine with cold fingers. "Ya here tuh give th' blessin' for our raid?" he asked, with a laugh like hisshisshisshiss.

Elsa shivered again, that awful hissing laugh dripping with a cold that seeped through all the furs she wore and sank into her bones. "Yes, lord of the Va'ata. You shall have--"

"Th' name's Auush," he hissed his true name, the words of his native tongue slithering and thick.

"Right... Auush." That name tasted like a bitter harbour city ale rolling over her tongue. "Auush," she repeated, "This night, you have Mother Moon's blessing to guide your coup against the Direwolves who stole your lands ages ago." Draw their attention. Allow me to slip in while they are distracted... So I can do my... "work." "Long since have the direwolves deserved to be usurped," she lied.

"Right, p'etty guhl. We wild men an' women ruhled Icewren long b'fore th' direwolves came from th' south an' built their wall... It'll fall tonight. It'll be ours again!" Auush hissed another laugh, forked tongue flicking through his lips. "But... Moom Guhl... why give us blessing?"

She gave him a level stare, shuddering as she gazed into those black eyes. "Because... What you've told me of their leader... he is a vial man. Stole your lands, killed your people..."

Auush hissed again. "Tha' damn direwolf... Rorik! Took m' eye! An' I'll take both 'is!" he spat with a curl of his lips, revealing a visceral of slathered fangs.

"Then you'll have your revenge tonight," she assured with false sincerely.

The lizard grinned at her as he sank back into the shadows. Hisshisshiss. "Thanks, p'etty guhl. Va'ata thank you."

Elsa wondered how in the name of her Goddess she came to allegiance with such fowl company. But it was not her place to question, only to follow the instructions of Mother Moon's high priestesses, who best knew how to carry out Mother Moon's ways of peace. She was weapon to be wielded against wicked souls who oppose Mother Moon's peace that rules all souls. The direwolves stand against unity, my child, she remembered Matron Molora, high priestess of her Sept say in a sweet voice. We must act. Ensure this "Rorik" be knocked off the throne, to make room for someone more willing to abide. And here Elsa was now.

Still, that hiss...

She pressed on through the thick of pines, till she came to where it dissolved into a flat stretch of clear white that sprawled out before her. She climbed the tree she lingered next to to get a better view. She looked down this dead land, down to the great wall jutting from the ground at least a hundred feet high. How wonderful, she imagined, that this wall was masoned from the very ice and snow of the frigid North, as if nature itself forged it from its very flesh. Beyond was Maric's Keep. the city of the direwolves, who came here to Icewren from the deep south ages ago, and claim the icy crown of Vaaldus as their kingdom. Many believed that they were not dire before then, indistinguishable from their father race. But their mountain home reshaped them, made them take after their cold territory. Their bodies grew tall and strong and broad, and their pelts stained white and thickened by the blowing snow. The lords of winter, the kings and queens of the north.

At the very center of the city that lies beyond, a domed tower overlooked all, thrusting at the moon, its very top a throne room for the King and Queen of the Icewren who ruled here for thousands of years. Icecrown Keep. My destination. But all around it was too dark for her to see, save from the few candlelights of those who've yet to slumber blotching the city below. Although she could easily spot the torches of guards moving along the wall.

Amongst the inkiness she saw the barbarians rise up and flow forward like a flooding river. A mass of wild men and women warriors in nothing but furs and hides and armed with iron and stone, crushing and breaking against the frozen bulwark of the kingdom's wall.

She sighed, with sadness deepening in her blue pedigrees. How she wish she could have seen it... explore this city she heard so many tales about in the daylight, and walk amongst the people as a friend. But, her loyalty demanded her duty be fulfilled. Then a bright flash pierced the darkness and illuminated the darkened city, followed by a thunderous boom that shattered the west flank of the wall. The barbarians bled through the breach. Frantic cries and whoops of battle echoed throughout the city, as it came alive with light from its both residence and the spreading fire. There's my distraction. She lifted the black face cover over her muzzle, and drew the cowle over her head.

Nimbly, she scaled back down the tree and landed on the forest floor as gentle as an autumn leaf, and moved swiftly across the field. At the base of the wall's east flank, she strapped climbing claws to her hands and feet, the metal squares with downward pointed spikes ideal for scaling the smooth, slippery face. She peered right up, as she dug the claws into the ice, and started scaling. Its sheer size seemed to loom and curve over her, making her feel so insignificant in its shadow as it sprawled into the sky. It feels like I'm climbing up to meet Mother Moon herself.

At halfway up, the wind became stronger, threatening to blow her right off and plummet to her death, and the cold >burned through her warm garments and settled deep into her flesh<. But she grit her teeth and pressed on, her faith keeping her warm and her ascent sure.

Finally, she reached the wall's summit, and peered over the lip, onto the curved path that dipped into the Wall's top, creating a safe cusp to walk in. Expecting most, if not all the guards would be on the west of the wall dealing with the barbarians, she gracefully vaulted the lip and landed on the path. Her assumption was wrong... To either side stood a guard, each a giant direwolf dwarfing her by at least two heads. "Stop!" one shouted, brandishing a great sword, the other growling and baring two hand-axes.

Mother be damned! she cursed silently, bringing a small hand-crossbow to aim at the axe-wielder and let two bolts fly. He ducked the first, but the second struck him true through the eye, his body twitching and sputtering in death throes, before falling backward lifeless.

The second didn't hesitate, seeing his companion die. Letting out a cry that could shake a mountain, he came down on her like an avalanche, strong and sudden and swift.

She used his size to her advantage, though, diving forward just under his downward swipe, and into a roll between those pilaris legs, landed on her back, and twanged two poisoned bolts into her assailant's back. He didn't go down easily, however, turning back round with a blind swing, which narrowly missed her as she rose to her feet. Thank GODDESS they're so tall! she mused as she reeled away to escape the deadly steel arching for her head again, but she saw him stagger as the poison of her bolts worked through his blood. She hated the fowl substance, but she merited it for how oft it saved her before. She assailed him now, a short sword seemingly appearing in her hand. A third swing came at her, but this one was easily turned with her blade, before driving it under his chin. He gurgled some unintelligible curse as he fell over, staring up at her with blistering hatred as his lifeblood pooled under him.

After removing the bolt from the one she shot and finding the other not far off, she dispatched their corpses by flinging them off the the south-side of the wall. She found her way down by the ladders and platforms shortly thereafter, meeting no more opposition as the other guards were patrolling the streets or fighting at the breach.

On the city floor now, she gazed about the snow-packed streets which were lined with kiosks and stands. Merchants still lingered at their wares. Those who sold steel saw most business at this moment, as some of the braver citizens bought arms to fight at the breach. Others were desperately packing their goods. "Never should have come here!" one cursed as he packed up his wagon. She smelled the heavy sweet scent of baked goods from another, one who felt that sweets would help the people through this dire time. She licked her lips longingly, as if tasting the sweet buns from where she hid. It all took her back to a vividly bitter-sweet day .. But she shook her head in quick dismissal of her daydreams, as her own business demanded all her will.

She sighed as she whisked silently through the back alleys, knowing that mulling wouldn't get the disdainful task she was given done with any faster. Finally she stood in the shadow of Icecrown Keep, gazing up its looming body. Hearing voices from down the road, she pressed flat against the alley wall. Elsa swiftly clambered the building to get better vantage. A group of three approached the keeps entrance; a young direwolf boy, flanked by an elegant female of the same species, and sturdy, yet short horse.

"Why are the Va'aka attacking?" the boy asked, his voice still tender with youth. "I thought father had made peace with the them!" He stopped so suddenly to turn to his elders, brushing the long braids tumbling from his head to either side of his face. His lower lip quivered some.

"Grudges run deep in blood, my little lord," said the horse, who wore stout plate armour furnished with snowflakes across the breast and shoulder. "I think they mean to take back the city..."

Fierceness blazed in the youngling's eyes. "Don't call me little, Sir Greg! I dwarf you by a foot!" he retorted. "If I am heir to rule after my Lord Father, then I will fight with the others--"

"You will do no such thing, Ned!" interrupted the elegant lady, her plush fur dress whirling as she turned to them. She stood a whole foot taller than the younger wolf, and two more than the horse. "If you die with your father..." Her voice flickered as she clenched her fists hard. "You will stay in the keep until it is safe!"

"But mother--" the young one started to reply.

"I said NO, Ned! You are our only heir!" She took her son's hand firmly. "If you die, our line dies with you!"

"Lady Ilana... I've trained the boy myself," interjected Sir Greg. "This could very well be Ned's first--"

Lady Ilana whirled to the horse knight, eyes giving him a chilled stare that Elsa could feel from her perch. "If you love my husband half as much as me, you will go to his side. Immediately."

The horse's eyes flickered for a moment, before bowing his head. "As you command, Lady Ilana. I shall make sure your Lord Husband returns alive."

"Thank you, Sir Greg. Come, Ned."

"Mother?"

Lady Ilana paused in her step. "Ned... Please come." she said bewilderedly. "I--"

"I'm sorry, mother... Please don't worry." Ned hugged his lady mother. "I'll stay.."

A weary smile crossed Ilana's face. "Thank you... deary..." She returned the hug, before walking inside, son in hand.

"Don't call me that!" he retorted with a snicker.

Elsa let out a heavy sigh as she watched the door close. The high priestess wants me to murder a family!? This was not what Elsa anticipated. She'd expected the lord marked for her blade would be a cold man, like the mountain he ruled... Not a father and husband.

Mother of Peace, she thought, as she looked up to the moon, which had reached its zenith. She felt as if her Goddess were looking down right at her. Surely you would not set death upon someone yet untouched by faith... No. This... this can't be. She knew that the duties of her faith demanded she act as a dagger in the dark, a weapon of Mother Moon to strike down those who sought to keep the kingdoms of Vaaldus torn apart... Not a mother, or a knight, or a son. She struck down the wicked. Not families.

She clutched tight on the dagger still drawn. No. I... can't... I WON'T! Her gaze fell upon that knife, seeing the tears rimming the deepening sadness of her eyes in its polished surface. She slipped the steel back into its sheath, as she looked up to the sky once more, blinking away the tears. No, you would not wish this, Goddess. The high priest is mad! With hands clenched in white knuckled with fury, she quickly turned the way she came, black cloak swirling with her. I have to report this to Her oracle... the highest priestess, she'll know what to--

The next thing she knew, a resounding BOOM rang her ears, and a walled force with the strength of a thousand stampeding bulls hit her front, sending her flying back off the Inn's roof to land on the cold, unfeeling ground below. Shakily, she rolled onto her front and slid her palms under her, as she slowly, but with trouble, regained the senses knocked out of her. Her vision was slowly dissolving into darkness, as she fought to keep hold of consciousness. Orange flames licked across the Central Tower's walls. "No..." she whispered. Desperately she clawed her way towards it, hoping that she could repent for her own doing. I guess... I reap what I sowe. But it was no use. Darkness reached up and clawed at her, tugging down on her consciousness. She collapsed, shuddering in pain and cold as the last of her will left her.

I'm sorry, Mother Moon, for I have sinned... So tired...