A Soul Made Bloody
Over the tallest mountains and across vast oceans lies a land covered in trees and rolling plains. The ocean to the west and the tallest mountains to the east the land of Achesia is a natural wonder unto its own. Its people farm off the land like they have for decades ever since the first tribes were formed. In the evenings the sunset dips below the waters of the western ocean creating a beautifully colored spectacle while in the mornings the mist covers all the land giving mystery to the first lights of the day.
It was such a morning in northern Achesia as five horseback riders bearing banners of green with a white tree trotted across the plains. Their steel armor resounded with each hoof beat. The horses nickered as they ascended a hill the top of which they could not see due to the mist. One of the horses struggled as it was carrying two riders, the one with a bag over their head holding onto the other by the waist. The riders were traveling with haste to a shrine in the distance along the edge of a dark and mysterious patch of woods. They were not alone, five more riders from the east rode opposite of them carrying blue banners with the symbol of a labyrinth. These riders too wore heavy steel armor that covered their entire bodies expect for their heads as they carried their helmets to their side. As the two groups of riders began to converge they exchanged glances; however were more of resentment rather than friendship or greeting.
These two groups of riders were representatives of the Daevus and Koud clans, the two of the major factions that controlled the land of Achesia. The rivalry of the Daevus and Koud clans goes back two hundred years when the leader of the Demetrios clan died leaving his people to the leadership of his two twin sons. The sons however squabbled their leadership rather than working together, thus the clan split into the Daevous and the Kouds. The Daevous settled on the coast in the west where they fished and farmed in the lowlands, while the Kouds settled high in the mountains to the east where they mined and hunted. They soon made settlements, the Daevous being slight larger than the Kouds made two: Fawnnorth, and Bisonmane. The Kouds made a single settlement: Judgestone. Ever since the two clans have split they have disputed every minor detail, it even went as far as Daevous Knights and Koud Knights fighting in the central plains over little words that may have been said across the room. While it never went as far as armed conflict the rivalry and bitterness still endured, especially when disputing claim over the central plains.
What would bring two such polarized factions to the same place under truce? A common problem. The two groups of riders were traveling to the Shrine of Silva the goddess of the forest, summer and desire. The dark forest lies in the north of Achesia, there a goddess has lived in seclusion using her druids to speak to the mortal men on her behalf. The Daevous and the Kouds have been worshiping Silva since before the two clans split, the goddess in the past was appeased by their offerings of oxen and sheep. However; as of late her servants have been wreaking havoc on villages near the forest, her attacks by her Piru (humanoid creatures) have even reached as far as the villages on the outskirts of Fawnnorrth. Silva was not pleased, she soon demanded an even bigger sacrifice, something more precious, a virgin sacrifice. In Silva worship the use of young virgin girls was quiet common, however detestable the people of both Daevus and Koud found it they could not risk Silva’s retaliation with her Piru.
With much disgust both the Daevous and Kouds had come this morning to give a virgin girl to the goddess. The ten men stopped at a large rock which served as an alter. Dismounting their steeds the two factions sized each other up from head to toe, both unwavering and trying to show no weakness. Representing the Kouds was their Abbas (clan father or leader) Barlaam Koud the II and older gray man who has seen many years through his old but still sturdy eyes. With him he brought three knights each wearing plate armor bearing shields with a labyrinth and a single squire who carried the Abbas’ banner. Representing the Daevous was Abbas Lennard Daevus the I the young leader of the Daevous clan. Lennard Daevus has only been Abbas for two years, at the young age of twenty eight his father passed away leaving him as heir to be the next Abbas. For what he lacks in wisdom and maturity he makes up for in ambition and cunning. He brought with him his uncle, Oisín Daevus who has been his chief advisor since he came to leadership. Oisín Daevus was a bitter man, his single eye looked the Koud knights up and down as he stepped to his Abba’s side. Oisín lost his eye in a duel with a Koud knight years ago on the plains after a bar brawl. Since then his grudge against the Kouds remains strong. Along with his uncle Lennard Daevus brought two knights and a single squire. The squire was a young man just barely past his rite of passage. His hair was dark with eyes to match. He wore plate mail with a large cloak over his shoulders.
James Avondale was the son of an esteemed Daevous Knight. Following in his father’s footsteps he too will one day hold the title of Knight bearing the emblem of the white tree on a plain of green. He watched the interactions of the two Abbas as they exchanged glances but still no words. It seemed they would stand around looking each other up and down until the sun was highest in the sky. He rested his left hand on the hilt of his sword while with his right he grasped the arm of the young girl whom still wore a bag over her head. He could not help but let his hand quiver as he was both angry and fearful for the fate of the young girl. Giving her as a sacrifice seemed barbaric and cruel and nothing like the chivalry that he was taught growing up by his father. He wished that he could run with the girl and set her free but he had seen what Silva’s Piru have done too many villages, it would be the death of many if he let her go. The girl despite her impending fate was calm as she simply stood there blind from the bag with her head drooped down. Soon the silence was finally broken by Barlaam Koud.
“Lennard, it’s good to see you, you’re looking older now, almost fit to be called an Abbas.” The older man chuckled as he stood feet shoulder width apart, hands on his sword.
“And to you Barlaam, any luck finding a male heir? A man of your age should not tease fate.” Lennard jested. Oisín gave a hardy laugh to his Abbas’ joke as he glared at Barlaam scornfully.
Barlaam snickered at his counterpart’s comeback. “As sharp as ever, it seems your father taught you something after all. I would love to continue with this but I have important business to attend to, can we get this detestable business over with so that I do not have to see your face anymore today. Where are those fools from Graymane?”
The sacrifice could not begin until representatives from all the people of Achesia were in attendance. While the Kouds and the Daevus were the most prominent clans they were not the only ones. The Graymanes of the north were a small clan notable for their adventurers. They often intermarried with both Daevous and Koud so influences from both clans are strong within its population. They however remain neutral in the conflict between the two groups as they find it petty when there are greater issues to be concerned with, mainly the Piru and Silva. Not long did they have to wait before the hoof beats of the Graymanes could be heard coming from the northwest. Two riders on horseback galloped up to the group of men, dismounting their horses they took off their helmets. Bedwyr Grayhand the III was a middle aged man who has ruled over his clan for over two decades. He is a distant cousin of both Lennard and Barlaam. On a normal day he carried an overly positive demeanor wearing a bright smile under his thick gray mustache. Today due to the graveness of the act they were about to commit only a somber smirk to each of the Abbas seemed to escape his lips.
“Gentlemen.” He bowed his head to each of them.
“Bedwyr, it’s good to see you old friend.” Barlaam returned the bow.
“Yes yes, I wish it were on better circumstances however.” He stated as he looked over at the girl with the sack on her head. “Let’s get it done with, shall we?” Bedwyr began to walk towards the shrine itself, the rest followed suit.
A ominous aura seemed to loom over the forest and the closer they got the grimmer they felt. James pushed lightly on the girls waist to move her forward, yet the closer they got the slower she became as she trembled. They soon stopped at the altar, the men looked down at the flat blank stone.
“So I assume we do this the same way?” Oisín stated. Turning towards James the squire he beckoned him to bring the girl forward.
Following his orders he pushed her towards the rock, the two men then lifted her onto it where she stood as still as a statue that has stood there for hundreds of years. Oisín ripped the hood from her head allowing her dark brown hair to flow in the wind. You could barely make out that her eyes were a brilliant green through the redness from crying. Oisín then ripped off her tunic and stepped back as to not be mistaken for a sacrifice as well. The young maid stood there naked and trembling, her chest rising and falling with great speed as the fear of the situation began to set in. She looked down at James who unlike Oisín did not move back from the alter. She peered into his soul, James felt his very being ripping in half. What had he done?
“Oh Silva! We have brought to you our sacrifice. Take it in tribute to your greatness and spare us from your wrath of goddess of the summer.” Barlaam chanted into the forest.
For a long moment nothing happened, the girl stood there sobbing on the Alter facing James who stood dumbfounded. The rest all watched the forest waiting for something to happen. Soon the wind picked up, it began to have a strong pull like a vacuum into the forest. As it became stronger it picked the girl up off her feet to suck her into the forest, but at the last second she had grabbed onto James’ arm holding on her dear life. Her eyes filled with tears she cried out to him.
“Please, please help me!” She pleaded.
James couldn’t find the words but as the wind began to increase he too was being sucked towards the forest with the girl. He struggled to keep his footing and just as he lost his footing a sword cut through the girls arm severing it. James fell to the ground as the girl flew towards the forest, her cries echoing across the plains. The young squire could not control his breathing, he stared into the forest with fear and terror. He had just watched that girl fly into the forest while she begged him to save her. Half of her arm lay in his lap now with the blood all over his cloak. Looking over he saw Barlaam Koud sheathing his sword. James just sat there looking up at him. Barlaam looked down at him, not with the bitterness of a rival clan member but with pity of an older man who also has seen such horrible things in his lifetime. Barlaam knew that moment would be stuck in James’ vision forever. Turning away he nodded towards Lennard and Bedwyr.
“Hopefully that will appease her for awhile.” Mounting his horse he and his men rode off to the east towards their city of Judgestone.
“Common, get up.” Oisín grabbed James’ arm. “Are you hurt boy?”
James shook his head no while he tried to snap back into reality. Her cries still ringing in his ear.
“Let’s go then, let’s get out of this dreadful place.”
Turning towards the forest the young man stared into its darkness. He had nothing but contempt for Silva, and for himself for what he failed to do…