The Night of Death

Sire I bring news from Cimmeria *gasps for breath*

Whether the outcome of this news pleases or disturbs you Sire I will leave it for you to decide but its importance should not be underestimated. The hooded female messenger did not give her name but merely handed me this letter whispering ‘for the kings eyes’.

*hands King Conan the letter*

It was late in the evening, lord Zethrion and is Army can be seen in the inn off the Cimmerian settlement, just outside the Conarch village. They cannot see me, or least they do not notice me for I am no importance to their plans.

The cold northern wind rolls down from the mountains, the deadly icy winds from the north bring the harden warriors of Asguard with them. The laughter and sound of beer mugs, hitting each other in shouts of cheer, could be heard from a mile away. Soon a new smell came in the air… smell of battle ready men, the Dogs of War had mustered under the command of Mumbles.

Within the inn the overbearing mercenary Mumbles shouts, he wanted vengeance for fallen men he says! There was no reasoning with him, he had set out for blood and his temper sacred even me, the insignificant hooded girl in the corner. I must confess I began planning my escape, to slip outside before I was caught in the brawl that was so obviously going to break out.

I was not wrong… The battle broke out, the Dogs caught the Lord and his men in tight spot and they had to tactical retreat. However form my vantage point I was able to predict the Dogs neither had an obvious point of escape. A handful of the Lords men had managed to break the ranks from one side of the Dogs line. There was no room even to swing Axe but the warriors used whatever space they had smashing eachother with the shields and tables that inhabited the room. For a short time a stalemate situation had formed amongst the chaos and carnage within Inn. Blood lay mixed with frothing Ale producing a sickly, slippery and deadly arena. It was time for me to hasten my retreat!

I do not know exactly what happened in that Inn but I can tell you the screams echoed through the mountains. Set only knows what kind of torture those poor souls endured as the swishing of swords and dull thuds of shields could be clearly be heard emanating from the slaughter house that once was an Inn. Even I who has grown accustomed to rituals you deem a disgrace could not bring my self to enter the… nay go near this brutal meat cleaving house.

You wonder why I was there I believe? Perhaps in time you might understand but for now I will only say I was told to observe the Nomadic mercenaries, to stay a step ahead of them and learn what I can. For this reason alone I stayed for I fear death at the hands of my master like any other girl.

With men badly wounded on both side, a final Battle raged on outside into the Valley, the final showdown drawing near. The toned frame of Mumbles could be seen leading his men down into battle. He had an interesting look about him, a ranger no doubt but commanded the presence of a Black Dragon elite. I saw him with my very own eyes, he had a clear shot on the lord. As the released arrow flew with deadly precision towards the Lord of Asguard, one of the Lords men leaped into its path, the arrow nearly piecing the soldier’s mighty shield.

Now do you know the end of this story? If the answer is no Lord then what follows will interest you greatly I’m sure. The sound of a horn could be heard thundering through the screams of battle. A rider strode down the hills, with a Flag of the Kings 11th legion.

Both parties ceased their engagements in surprise. The gleaming form of the rider rode directly to Lord Zethrion and handed him a few documents sealed with what I could clearly see was your personal emblem, the one worn on your very own finger…

Even from my hiding place wrapped up within my muddy cloak I could hear the faint words spoken from Lord Zethrion directed towards their fearsome enemies

‘Commander Darion Baltitus Velan of the 11th legion of the kings army, has declared this as law, *hands the documents towards Mumbles* if you still want blood we are ready for war, but unless you do not trust this man there is no reason for it.”

The great form Mumbles nodded and replied

” I know of the man of whom you speak. I have great respect for him, so I will accept his findings, but this will not change the fact, we remain on alert. But for now we know we can turn our backs and leave this disagreement for now, without fear of a Asguard knife planted in our backs. If this is true and it was not your minions that killed our men then someone else is out there plotting against us. Now we will tend our wounded, and thank the gods, that we did not end up loosing more men this evening.”

Lord Zethrion looked with his hollow eyes at Mumbles

” Yes now let’s see what the future will hold, for now we shall be at peace.”


Those where the last spoken word, before the two armies went their separate ways, tending the many wounded…

I must admit I had came here fully expecting to witness the demise of the two great clans but things did not follow the path my master had hoped for. However something about the rider was not altogether right. It had seemed so perfect. The real question is, if this news surprises you Northern Lord then perhaps your Black Dragon are a law unto their own. Why do I write telling you this? Well that is another question, a chapter perhaps you will read before you meet your untimely end and witness the destruction of your lands.