Authors: Jim Greenfield
He saw a young man pulling a wagon along the road. The teen was slender with unkempt black hair and his clothes were dirty and withstood many patches. He greeted him as he passed.
"Morning, neighbor," said Greyrawk.
"Morning. You're him, aren't you?" The young man stopped and turned to Greyrawk.
"I don't understand."
"Lord Greyrawk. You're Lord Greyrawk. You've come to reclaim your land."
"I am Greyrawk. Why did you think that was my name?"
"Everyone's been talking about you. The word goes round fast in these parts. And not everyone's trustworthy. My name's Tuck. I am your man, Lord Greyrawk. Just give me the word."
"Thank you, Tuck. If you are needed, I will call."
"Thank you, Lord Greyrawk. You'll make everything better, I know it." He walked off briskly and whistling to himself. Greyrawk watched him, and then shook his head. What was he getting into? Still, it was nice feeling to hear 'Lord Greyrawk' instead of some of the names a mercenary usually hears, or an innkeeper for that matter.
Late morning he watered his horse at a narrow creek that meandered down the hills into the trees. The air was warming and flies buzzed around them. He rode to a nearby hillock where a large oak tree sprayed its branches out creating a cool shade. He lay down on the grass. He remembers the last time he rode far from his desert home to fight as a mercenary. Jaele was with him, she is with him still. He recalled her face and her throaty laugh and the nasty way she fought with a dagger. His eyelids felt heavy, but as he relaxed, he felt a drumming through the ground. Drumming, drumming. He tried to recall what it meant. Then he knew. He bounced to his feet looking back the direction he had come. Faint figures of horsemen crested the far hill. They had figured out his change of direction. Greyrawk jumped upon Spirer and headed north.
The riders kept to his trail and Greyrawk kept to his northern route and then he veered west toward the forest and followed a path leading into the trees. One of the riders followed him into the forest; the others circled back to the south, apparently knowledgeable about the exit of the path. Greyrawk rode hard to gain an advantage. Although the path was well used and surprisingly level; many branches reached out snagging his cloak as he passed. As soon as he was out of sight of his pursuer, he pulled off the trail under the trees. He pulled his rope off his saddle and tied it across the path. The pursuer came thundering down the path and the rope caught him, knocking him off his horse. Greyrawk sprang to the man and pulled him over, Greyrawk's knife at the man's throat.
"Are you Belderag's men? Did he send you after me?" He shook the man and asked again.
The man was stunned and did not recognize the situation. Greyrawk disarmed him and dragged him under the trees. He reclaimed his rope and waited for the man to regain his senses. By his device, he belonged to Belderag. No doubt, Nunderburg had betrayed him. Possibly his brothers rode to Gornst before dawn to bring news to Belderag.
He waited for several minutes, but the man did not regain consciousness. He tied him to a tree and left him.
He slowly followed the trail south knowing the other horsemen would be waiting. The path narrowed and he drew his sword. He ears heard only the clop of Spirer's hooves, the birds were silent. The horsemen concealed themselves near the end of the path. Greyrawk tensed himself, made sure of his grip on his sword and spurred Spirer forward. The horse quickly gained top speed and burst from the forest past his startled foes. They recovered quickly and his lead did not expand more than a few yards. Six pursuers closed around him.
He turned southeast and headed for Castle Greyrawk. Adan's Hill was overgrown and tangled with brambles. He hoped to shake them off or at least find a defensible position. The pursuers did not fall back but kept tight to him.
The ride across the fields did not cease and flecks of foam were on Spirer's flanks as they finally reached Greyrawk Mountain.
He ducked under branches, as Spirer did not slow when he reached the base of the hill. Branches clawed at Greyrawk, tearing his clothes and trying to dislodge him. He held tight and sensed his pursuers had slowed. He stopped halfway up the hill, blood trickling from his forehead. The riders had dismounted and were spreading out and moving up the hill. Greyrawk dismounted and stood ready with his sword.
There was faint music in the air, similar to what he had heard in the early dawn. It seemed to be coming down the hill. He glanced behind him but saw nothing. Still, the music continued. One man came ahead of the others and Greyrawk charged him, their swords clashing in the misty air. Greyrawk parried the man's blow and slapped at his knees. The man dodged back and Greyrawk's blade ripped his shoulder open. The man winced and heard the music for the first time. He looked around wildly and then backed away from Greyrawk. Then he ran back to his comrades.
As the music grew louder and the shadows lengthened, Greyrawk's pursuers slowed and spoke urgently amongst themselves. Then one by one, they looked toward the hill where he waited and turned away. They remounted and set off for Gornst. Greyrawk rose from his crouch and began to descend. Suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck rose and he gripped his sword tight. He felt a sudden urge to run down the hill. There was a presence behind me. He started to move.
"Wait, Lord Greyrawk. I must speak to you." The voice was lilting yet fragile as if little used.
Greyrawk turned at the words. Coming down the hill was the most beautiful woman he had seen in all his travels. He tried to speak but no words found their way out. All he could do was watch her.
Greyrawk watched the woman approach. She wore copper armor, light and form fitting. She wore no helmet just a jeweled band around her head holding back her hair. Her silent movements held a matchless grace and the luminous quality of her blue skin kept him mute. The copper eyes were framed by hair of a sky blue cropped close on top, long on the sides. She held a spear, ornate and deadly. She stopped before him and raised her spear.
"I have watched you for many days, Greyrawk. It is good you have returned to Adan's Hill. It is your duty to your people, and to mine."
"You know my name? Who told you I was here?"
"I have spoken to no one of your acquaintance. I have always known your name. Your face, eyes, body, voice all tells me you are Greyrawk. I have been waiting for you."
"I don't understand," said Greyrawk.
"That is why I am here. I am to help you understand. It sounds simple to say it, but it will be difficult. You are to learn of the earth, its grasses, trees, and the voices in the wind. Everything Men take for granted. You must learn all this before you become prince." She smiled.
"Prince? I am not to be a prince."
"No, I do not mean a prince of Men. Greyrawk, you must cast aside the pale notions of Men. I am talking about my people, our people - the Celaeri."
"I don't understand. I am not Celaeri. Is that what you are?"
"I can tell I've started badly. Alarie said it would be so."
"Who's Alarie?"
"Your Warlord. The Warlord of the Celaeri. It was Alarie who helped you when the Vlakan attacked you."
"The creatures...?"
"Yes. They are called Vlakan. They are the dark souls that must wander the world without rest to atone for their deeds. The Celaeri keep them from the world of men, but we are few and sometimes they break through. With a Greyrawk in residence they will fear this hill once more."
"They didn't fear me."
"They fear you, but you are not as strong as you will be. They are desperate to kill you now. That is why I am here; to help you gain your Celaeri strength. You must reach your potential now, or it may be too late for you. And us."
Greyrawk was silent.
"I have started badly and this is all new to you. Let me start again. My name is Ioane Adan. I am Celaeri. The Celaeri are the original inhabitants of this land. We are on Adan's Hill where Castle Greyrawk once stood and where my home once stood before that. I remember you as a young child and it was a sad day when you were sent away. My father agreed with your grandfather's choice for you would have died if you stayed."
"Did my grandfather know your father?"
"Not really. He felt his presence but Jerue Adan never spoke to your grandfather."
"Did you ever speak to me?"
She smiled, nodding her head.
"Yes, I did, but I was caught and punished."
"I don't remember any children with blue hair."
"You did not see me as a child; I am older than I look. Let us begin there for I sense your Men mind is searching for an anchor. I have lived for many of your lifetimes. Indeed, I did once dwell on this hill in my father's house before the Men came. If you look for an exact age, I cannot say."
"If I had seen you, you would have appeared as you do now?"
"Yes, but you didn't see me. I made sure of that at least. It made my punishment less severe."
"Yet you appear before me now."
"That I do. I want you to come and learn about Celaeri. I want you to understand what you need to do."
"Ioane Adan, you have tossed more at me than my pursuers and I feel I can deflect none of it. Before yesterday I had never heard of the Celaeri and I have no idea what you are talking about. I certainly am no Celaeri so these words about being your prince are untrue."
"Ah. Well as to that, Celaeri brides have been part of the Greyrawk heritage for countless years. The last one was seven of your generations ago, but there is Celaeri blood in you, Ian Greyrawk."
"A little blood does not change who I am. What benefits does Celaeri blood give me?"
"Quite a lot, actually, but most has to be gained by training. The fact that you can see me is a sign you have Celaeri blood. You do not have magical powers if that is what you were thinking."
"I am not quite sure what my thoughts are. I am still stunned by your appearance. I have never seen anyone like you."
"Do you find me attractive?"
"You are exotic and enticing." He did not know why he said that. He tried to see Jaele in his mind but her image wouldn't come to him.
"That is good. I will need your attention. Come, let us sit on the battlements and recall the history of this land. Some may seem new to you, but Men teach their children only in the ways of Men. The world is far larger than that."
She took him by the hand and they walked to the summit.
Ioane Adan, sole child of Jerue Adan, held her youth for centuries and her exotic features made her the model of many a faery story of a young man enchanted by an immortal. The truth was not far from legend. She bore several children, all of mixed heritage. She never found a mate among the Celaeri; perhaps she recognized the darkness in her kind.
From Gerrand's Histories of Landermass.
Greyrawk listened to the history of the Celaeri as the wind howled across the summit. It appeared a scene out of a dream with the ruins of the castle lit by an ethereal light and tree branches waving to the darkness. Ioane Adan appeared a goddess from a tale for children. Her pale skin seemed translucent in the flickering darkness. It was difficult not to lose the conversation merely by staring at her. He tried to follow her words. He could see the land below him and the lights from the keeps and farmhouses.
"For centuries the Celaeri dwelt in this land before Men came from the south. We built cities of wood and stone, white and beautiful in the bright sunlight of the dawn. The fields flowered and flourished under our guidance. We lived in peace for so many uncounted years. Then the Vlakan came out of the dark places of the world and we fought to protect our cities. Men came too and for years, we argued whether there is a connection between the two events. No consensus was reached. We did not hinder Men, nor did we help them although some contact was made. Men who settled near Adan's Hill were friendly and respectful and we were the same to them.
"As Men expanded we pulled back. The later contacts we had with Men were violent and our people were unprepared for such things. Yet we endured. We learned warfare from Men and we are now quite adept at killing."
"I noticed. Why was Alarie able to harm the Vlakan? She seemed to vanish like a ghost, I could see through her I thought, yet her weapon drew blood."
"Some of us still have the strength to reach this world, but we cannot stay long. We can focus our strength where we want it and her spear needed to be in this world. Alarie's strength lasted until the danger passed. If there were more of them, she would not have been able to help you any longer. You were lucky."
Greyrawk sat in silence, absorbing this information. The Celaeri were fairy creatures and he did not want anything to do with them. He considered running down the hill, but were there other Celaeri nearby, just out of sight? Would they materialize and catch him? Ioane Adan spoke as if he was important.
"What did you mean by 'because I can see you' it proves I have Celaeri blood?"
"You have heard stories that once Men rose in strength into this land, the Celaeri vanished, moved on, died out, however you want to state it. That is not true. The Celaeri remain, but Men can no longer see us, and we spend more time in the shadow world in our eternal conflict with the Vlakan. Only Celaeri can see Celaeri now. The Men do not know how we protect them. Since you can see us, it proves you are a Greyrawk because the Greyrawk's have Celaeri blood. That is a fact you cannot refute. When you first stepped on this hill yesterday, we knew you had returned. Unfortunately, so did the Vlakan."
"The dark ones, the Vlakan, do they wander aimlessly?"
"No, there is a consciousness driving them, and we do not yet fully understand it. If they wander as you suggested there would be no problem controlling them. However, they come at us in groups with strategic timing and seem to know when our watch is limited. They move with a purpose and are very dangerous. We can never forego our vigilance. We have found that the more time we spend in the shadow land, the less substance we have here. There are only a handful of us left who can interact with this world. We guard the earth but our time is limited here. Soon we may not be able to return and while we continue to keep watch, we shall finally fade from sight and memory and even the land may forget us. That is our fear."