Welcome to Gaia! ::

Hallen’s footsteps came to a stop.
“Here. This is it.” Gilfer said with his nasally voice, pointing a crooked finger toward the ruin.
At last. Mordan’s castle. The outer walls had long crumbled into oblivion, the dark stones claimed by the bog. The keep itself had partially sunk into the ground. It had once been the formidable fortress of a mighty ruler. But the greatness of men was often swallowed by the forces of nature and time. A slow devouring.
“It still stinks. Maybe even worse.” Grim said.
“Maybe.” Hallen replied, smirking. “But at least we’re here.”
She stepped forward.
“Careful.” Gilfer warned. “You might sink.”
“Then perhaps you should go first.” She answered, turning her gaze over her shoulder to look at him.
“Oh, I don’t think so.” He said, stepping back. “I was only told to lead you here. And I’ve done just that.”
Grim nodded. “Only death awaits in that place. Best we stay out here. Once we hear your screams, we’ll leave.”
“Charming.” Hallen replied, grimacing. “I suppose if you’d rather stay out here. Good luck with any other swamp hags, though. My sword won’t be there to behead another one.”
With that, she shrugged and continued onward, stepping carefully. The whole place had a lonesome feeling to it. Her nostrils flared. The smell of bog. Grime. Decay. Eventually, she arrived at the entrance to the keep. It was sealed up tight by a large, old wooden door. A dark, thick wood. She approached it, but stayed to the side, lest it crush her if it suddenly dropped, and put her hand to its surface when she arrived. The wood was moist.
“It is said that the spirit of King Mordan still resides here. Is this so?” She called out.
Suddenly, she heard two shrill screams from the near distance, and she had no sooner drawn her blade than her two goblin companions came rushing toward her as though their very lives hung in the balance. And then, a deep laugh filled the air, echoing all around them.
Black, shadowy wisps of air swirled about from all corners of the vicinity, congregating at a central point not far from where Hallen stood. The shadows took form, slowly. A silhouette. And then, features. Barely distinct, at first. And then, the features came to resemble a king. The dark, elven king himself. Mordan.
The two goblins trembled behind Hallen, gripping her hips on either side. She sheathed her sword and knelt on one knee, bowing her head low.
“Honor and glory to thee, King Mordan.” She said.
“Who dares to set foot upon my land?” The old king spoke, his voice raspy and fierce.
“I am Hallen.” She answered.
“Hallen.” He replied. “I see.”
A moment of silence.
“Rise and look at me, human girl.”
She did as she was bid. His eyes raked over her, studied her every feature. And then they locked with hers, and she felt like his gaze penetrated her very soul. She felt chills erupt from her bones out through her skin, rippling in goosebumps, every hair standing on end. When he seemed satisfied, his expression eased. Barely.
“Why have you come?” He asked.
She cleared her throat and shifted her weight. But then, she straightened. “I wish to retrieve the sword that felled your enemies, the ring that channeled your power, and the crown that cast your authority.”
At that, he laughed. “You?”
And then, the ground gurgled. Belched. The bony carcasses of would-be grave robbers slowly rose up from the moist earth. Hallen looked about. And then, she cleared her throat.
“Yes.” She replied, resolute.
He looked at the two on either side of her. “And what do you mean by bringing these vile, pathetic imps with you?”
“We—we can assure you, great one,” Gilfer said, trembling, “we will leave at once!”
“You will go nowhere without my say so, goblin!” The king howled, his voice a piercing shriek.
The goblins whimpered and clung to Hallen, who winced but did not cower.
“They are my companions.” She said. “They guided me here.”
“Of course they did, the loathsome, sniveling good-for-nothings.” Mordan replied, calm once again. “You keep poor company, which says more about you than you may like.”
“What do you think it says about me, your majesty?”
“Must I spell it out for you, child?”
“Humor me, your majesty.”
“Very well. It says that you are either stupid or desperate.”
Hallen nodded. “I see.”
She took a breath. “Well, I propose a third option. Creative. Goblins are stronger and cleverer than most give them credit for.”
“Bah. Stupid, then.” Mordan replied. “You are unworthy of what you have come to take.”
“Let me prove myself worthy.” She replied.
“Begging, now? You are as pathetic as the goblins who cling to you.”
“I’m not begging, your majesty.”
“Is that so?”
Hallen straightened. “I will prove myself to you or die trying.”
He chuckled, but said nothing. A few moments of silence passed between them. And then, finally, he spoke.
“I know who you are, Daughter of Grimguard.”
She blinked.
“Did you think,” he continued, “that you could fool me? You are not as clever as you think you are, Hallen Grimguard.”
“Alright.” She said, “You know me.”
“Yes. I remember your father. He sought me out once. But he didn’t seek my artifacts. Nothing so trivial. He sought something greater.”
The spirit smiled. A smile that unsettled Hallen.
“Knowledge.” Mordan said.
Then his smile faded. “But you – you just want artifacts.”
He turned away. “Pitiful.”
“I will pry that ring from your bony fingers, ghost.” She said, gritting her teeth.
Mordan stopped. The goblins whimpered.
Hallen cleared her throat. “And your sword will be mine, too. And I’ll take that crown of yours and wear it upon my crimson hair.”
“Oh…will you?” Mordan replied, turning slowly to face her.
“One way or another. My resolve is great.”
“And so was theirs.” He said, gesturing to the bones scattered about the courtyard.
Hallen said nothing.
“The bog shall devour your flesh as it did theirs.” He continued. “And the next fool who comes along will see your bones before theirs joins yours and the rest of them.”
“Test me, King Mordan.”
She drew her sword. “Or I shall take what I must by force, and you will not stop me.”
He laughed. “Do you think you can kill me, Daughter of Grimguard?”
“I think I will find a way to do whatever it is I need to do.”
“Your father was intelligent and wise. But you – you are a far cry from him.”
“You know nothing about me.”
“You’ve told me more than enough.”
“You’ve made assumptions. Nothing more. For a king who was supposed to be wise beyond his years, you’ve been a bit of a disappointment.”
“Please, your majesty!” Gilfer cried. “Even if you must kill her, you could let us go!”
“I’ll kill her and then I’ll torture the both of you for my pleasure!” King Mordan shrieked. “Be silent!”
With that, the spirit straightened. “Very well, Hallen Grimguard. I shall test you. You will answer three riddles. If you cannot answer all three before night has completely fallen, I will kill you and your two little imps. And judging by the color of the sky, you don’t have long. If you successfully answer all three before night has completely fallen, I will grant you entry into the keep. If you agree to this test, you will give me your sword. Should you pass it, I will return your sword to you. Now…”
His shadowy form drifted swiftly toward her with an almost whispering, ominous howl. “…do you agree to the testing?”
Hallen nodded, sheathing her sword. “I do.”
She unstrapped her belt and sheath from her waist and handed them to King Mordan.
“The first riddle now, please.” She said.
“First Riddle.”
Hallen turned and stepped away. The goblins hurried behind her.
“You know the answer, right?” Gilfer asked.
“Quiet. I’m trying to think.” Hallen answered.
“We’re all going to die.” Grim said, his voice flat and resigned.
Hallen closed her eyes. “Please repeat the riddle.”
“I have said it.” Mordan replied.
Gilfer groaned sadly. “Oh, we are going to die!”
“I told you.” Grim said.
“Both of you, shut your mouths!” Hallen snapped.
Mordan chuckled. “And you brought goblins with you.”
Hallen took some steps away from the goblins and tried to recite the riddle. She couldn’t remember each line.
“I need the riddle again.” She said.
“If I give you the riddle again, you must agree to give up one of the artifacts.”
“No. That’s not an option.”
“Then I guess you will have to figure it out.”
Hallen tried to clear her mind and focus on the riddle. She repeated the lines. Over and over. And then, it clicked. At least, she thought it did. If she was wrong, she could try again. There was nothing in the rules that said she couldn’t get it wrong, only that she had to get all three riddles right before night had fully fallen.
She turned to Mordan. “The answer is Time.”
Mordan looked disappointed. “Correct.”
Hallen smirked. “The second one.”
“Second Riddle.”
“Right.”
Hallen nodded, and stared down at the ground, deep in thought. The sky grew darker, and the bog began to fill with the sounds of evening creatures. And suddenly, Hallen grinned.
“Got it!” She yelled, “The answer is Power!”
“Correct. But, you are running out of time.”
“Yes, yes. The next one.”
“Third Riddle.”
“What?!” Gilfer cried. “How does that one even make sense?!”
Hallen nodded and turned away, closing her eyes and thinking over the lines. She thought and thought and thought.
“Your time is running out.” Mordan warned.
Hallen’s mind raced. No. She couldn’t solve it. No! She felt a tug on her gambeson and turned to find Grim standing there.
“I know the answer.” He said.
Hallen glanced over at Mordan, who was grinning. Then she turned her gaze back to Grim and stooped.
“Alright. Tell me.” She said.
“I mean, I think I do. I probably don’t.” Grim said, looking less optimistic.
“Don’t say that. Just tell me, Grim.”
He nodded. “Death. The answer is Death.”
Hallen blinked. She thought over the lines. And then, she laughed a little. Yes. Yes!
“I—I think you’re right, Grim.”
“Well, maybe. I’m probably not. We’re all probably about to die, actually.”
“No, we’re not.” Hallen replied, rising to her feet and looking at Mordan.
“The answer,” she said, “is Death.”
Mordan’s grin faded instantly. His translucent, ghostly face twitched in restrained anger.
“Correct.” He said, practically spitting the word.
Hallen clenched her hands into fists. “Yes!”
Gilfer shrieked with delight. “We did it! We did it!”
“But she did not answer all three riddles, did she?” Mordan asked.
He looked at Grim. “You answered one of them.”
“No he didn’t.” Hallen argued. “He told me what he thought the answer was. I just happened to agree. I’m the one who answered.”
“Bah. He gave you the answer, and you know it. You failed, Daughter of Grimguard.”
“I answered your riddles. All three of them. You never established the rules on how I could acquire the answer, only that I had to answer. And I did. All three. Before night had fully fallen. Now, I want my sword back, and I demand entry into the keep.”
Mordan chuckled. “I don’t have to do anything. There’s no law that says I have to uphold my end of things.”
Silence. Hallen stared at him long and hard.
“You did give me your weapon, after all.” Mordan added.
At that, her body stiffened. “That doesn’t make me defenseless…ghost.”
“Oh? We shall see.”
Dark energy erupted suddenly from the ghostly king’s form, filling the bones in the courtyard and animating them. Hallen closed her eyes and took a deep breath, concentrating. Then she opened her eyes, still breathing steadily. The goblins came to her and clung. They really were some of the biggest cowards from amongst all the goblin hordes. But they were her cowards, and she would protect them.
The skeletons wielded weapons of sharpened bone. Hallen stood her ground, feet apart, a goblin on either side of her, as they began to approach. When the first one grew close enough, she made her move. She felt the energy rush up from deep within. Her body tightened. She was faster. Stronger. She disarmed the skeletal warrior with ease, taking its weapon as her own, and cut it down at its legs. Then, bone blade in hand, she proceeded to confront the others. Bone blades clashed. And then, bones broke. Shattered. Skulls popped off necks.
One fell. Then another. And another.
When she had dispatched all of the others, she returned to the one that yet remained and put a foot upon one of its arms so it could no longer crawl and stared at Mordan.
“Your powers have waned.” She said with a smirk.
Mordan gave her a long stare. Then he tossed her sheathed sword and belt to the ground and disappeared. The bone blade in her hand slumped, no longer animated with purpose of will. She approached her sword, keeping a wary eye out, but once she had hold of it, she dropped the bone and fastened her belt back onto her waist. It felt good to feel the pommel and grip of her sword in her hand again.
And just as she finished, the great wooden gate to the keep shuddered. The massive, old, rusty chains clanked as the wooden door slumped downward to the ground with a heavy, loud thud. A terrible stench wafted out of the entrance just then. The smell of death.
“Right then.” Hallen said.
Then she turned to the two goblins. “Are you two coming?”
“I think we have a better chance of staying alive if we’re with you.” Gilfer said.
“We’re still probably going to die, but Gilfer is right.” Grim answered. “It might be a little safer with you. Maybe.”
“Alright. Let’s go.”
Hallen stepped forward. “Do you still have that torch we brought, Gilf?”
“Right here.” He said, fumbling about with the pack on his back for a moment before pulling out the aforementioned torch.
“Good. We’ll need it. Get it lit.”
He did so, and then handed it to Hallen, who led the way into the dark, dank keep of King Mordan.