Maldra Story

By Godric

As blow after unbearable blow rained down upon the already thoroughly beaten form of a young and striking man sprawled across the bar, mere wisps of thought floated unguided through his mind as he strained desperately to remember what he had been taught so recently,

Breathe. Breathe fast and breathe often; take the fight slowly and perhaps with a little skill and a lot of luck it might go your way.

Had he been in any position to do so he would probably have made some sort of sardonic comment about such advice being applied to a situation like this, but he wasn't. Slowly, as each blow hammered home around his battered and bruised body, he managed to turn his head towards the door and wonder where his saviour was. Realising that help wasn't forthcoming, he forced himself to think back to his numerous sparing sessions with old Thadius, times that he had always considered a waste of his life, the irony wasn't lost on Malrda.

What is the enemy's weakness? How can you exploit it? And perhaps most importantly, can you do it without opening yourself to further attack?

Maldra's eyes darted left and right in his skull, he desperately sought a way out, a way to flee from this unrepentant onslaught, his bloodied gaze fell to the unprotected loincloth covering the most important things in the world to the Minotaur towering over him, it was a dirty thing to do, but Maldra was a dirty fighter. As soon as that giant fist came up for another swing Maldra was ready. Rolling to one side, he pulled a stool from behind the bar, pirouetted around his assailant's back and swung it in a lazy arc that ended with a resonant impact in the unfortunate protagonist's groin.

It may be dishonourable, but what good is honour to the dead?

As the pain ridden form of the Minotaur slipped quietly to the floor, the unmistakable sound of weapons being drawn echoed throughout the room, several Ogres who had been enjoying the distraction growled angrily, one standing and heading towards Maldra's hunched form with a look of violent determination. Slowly and with a resigned groan, Maldra placed himself in the Chen-Kai fighting position, awaiting the opponent that he knew he would never be able to survive against.

A long, menacing shadow passed between Maldra and his new opponent Caught off guard the young man found himself grabbed by the robe and violently pulled across the room, out of the door and into the dirty street outside. Blinking rapidly in the new-found light spilling from the greasy oil lanterns hung along the main street in Pirate's Cove, Maldra mouthed furiously at the person who had saved his life, spluttering mal-formed complaints and pathetic threats before taking a deep, laboured breath and staring levelly at the eight foot tall ogre. They stood in this fashion, each eying the other in an elegant dance of nervousness, neither one wanting to break the silence before the other, for several minutes.

"Lord Maldra would be very angry to see you here - furious, my Lord. He would have Threetooth's ears if he knew it was I who let you go in there my Lord" said the ogre in a quiet and respectful tone whilst waving one huge paw in the general direction of the still-swinging doors of the ‘Black Thunder' tavern. After the rumble of Threetooth's voice had quieted and the Ogre had begun staring blankly at his own feet, Malrda blinked several times and looked off into the distance before muttering in a quiet and very sullen tone, "Well, I'm not going to tell him, and since you aren't either for fear of losing your ears, I don't think we have a problem do we?" He kicked a pebble away from him and turned to face the nearby Towne gate, "Give me a hand Threetooth, at this rate we'll be home in two weeks and we're going to need every minute of that time to divine some explanation for the bruises that cover my body." Threetooth extended a tentative hand and placed it around the young Lordling's back, supporting him from behind as they headed out at a snail's pace along the road.

As always, young Maldra's father found out about the rather one sided brawl and was livid, he was consumed by disbelief that his only son had put himself in danger with such a reckless show of disobedience. Fortunately for Threetooth's ears the aging Lord's anger had been completely centred on his son and nothing more had come of the situation, at least not immediately.

Three months had passed since Maldra's return to the keep and his brush with the Lord had left him for most part unscathed, or so he had thought. One evening he was called to his father's private study, and from this he had his first inkling as to just how seriously angered his father had been by his misadventures in the local Towne. He had only been summoned to his father's study once before, the day that his mother had died, the only day he had ever known his father to shed a tear for anything or anybody before or indeed since. As he entered the study he was knocked back not only by the immensity of the room and its many bookshelves, tables, display cases and tapestries but by the pungent aroma that filled the room.

The source became clear as his father stepped through one previously hidden mahogany-panelled door that was set into an empty wall. He didn't look at Maldra but instead stood staring at the various rare and expensive tapestries on the wall whilst smoking that horrible leaf through his pipe. After a few minutes Maldra began to flinch and he wondered whether he should say something, perhaps to rouse his father from his evident reverie but as he opened his mouth a crack to speak, his father spun on his heal, walked straight towards Maldra and stopped just short of the boy. For a man advancing in years the elder Maldra had not lost any of his threatening demeanour and he was still a very imposing figure. All Maldra could do was stare sheepishly at his father and wait for some sign that he was ready to begin the conversation or, as was more likely, dispute.

The Lord turned his head slightly and let out a slow stream of smoke from his pipe before settling again to stare into his son's eyes, this time, however, Maldra did not have to wait long for his father to take action. Before he had a chance to get uncomfortable again the Lord had produced a small scroll from within his robes and had handed it to Maldra without a word, Maldra cracked the seal on the scroll and looked it over before actually reading the news inside, perhaps to prepare himself for what may be his last days on Alyria. He noticed that the seal he had just broken had borne the crest of the Agrippa family from nearby Sepharia. Taken aback, Maldra did not so much as bother to read the scroll, instead he looked at his father in complete confusion, his family had always had a lukewarm relationship with the Agrippa family at the best of times, and now he was holding a scroll bearing their family seal.

"What is it father, why have you given me this? Are we proposing an alliance with these...these--" Before he could think of an applicable insult his father had grabbed him by the shoulders with both hands. The pipe mere inches from his nose caused his eyes to water, his father however, had a different impression and abruptly turned away in disgust, walking back towards the tapestries he began to speak in a low growl, "One day, Boy. One day you will rule Beltane. And how do you behave mere weeks after you come of age? You cry like a child at this first sign of danger, had I not loved and trusted your mother so much, I could be sure that you were not of my blood, Boy."

Before Maldra had a chance to protest his father turned again and looked at him from across the extensive gulf that was his study. "You don't just need to learn how to be a man, you need to learn how to lead men. And you aren't going to that by brawling with thugs in a bar." He motioned to a dark corner of the room and Threetooth stepped out of the shadows. Just how an eight foot ogre had managed to conceal himself in such a small space was beyond Maldra but he had more important things to worry about. The Ogre had a strange expression, as always his face was unreadable to Maldra, but he had never seen the Ogre so quiet before, he seemed almost desperate to step back into the shadows. The Lord continued, "I'm sending you and your guard to Sepharia, to Rune, to train alongside Harrod Agrippa's son, Cornelius. You need to get away from this place, here you are a lord and if anything serious were to truly happen to you there would be serious consequences, I'm sending you over to Rune because you need to be ripped out of a comfortable and safe lifestyle and shoved into one you may not like, as is often the situation I face as Lord of this land."

My father is throwing me out? How can he do this to me?

Maldra mouthed silently, he couldn't believe what his father was saying, this wasn't happening, his father was sending him away, to Sepharia of all places, to the cradle of those idiots, the Agrippas. He just stared openly at his father; disbelief played across his face, unable to comprehend what had caused this, surely not a brawl in a Tavern? Before he had a chance to ask any of the myriad of questions that were flying across his mind his father handed him a small pouch that made a tinkling sound when Maldra hefted it, there had to be ten thousand gold pieces in that bag, Maldra just looked at his father with a puzzled expression, "Father...--" His father cut him off with sharp wave of his hand, he just looked off into the distance seemingly enjoying another reverie. Abruptly, he spoke, "That should be ample for the boat ride to Rune and perhaps for the cost of your training in the Towne, however I doubt that it will come to much, I've spoken to the local trainer and he tells me that his apprentice, Evelyn, has offered to train you in her spare time.

Evelyn? A woman? A woman is going to train me in the arts of combat?

"I am told she is a very capable young woman, you shouldn't judge her purely because she is a female. I am told she has bested every opponent who has challenged her, save old Thadius." A thought came to Maldra, if the only person who could best this woman was the very man who had been attempting to train Maldra, why was he leaving?

Isn't it obvious? He is ashamed of you. He doesn't think you behave as a lord should, as you should. All right then, I'll go to Rune, I'll show Cornelius Agrippa how to defeat some woman.

The journey was a long one, Pirate's Cove was a smugglers' port after all and Threetooth had refused to let him go on anything less than the safest ship in the port, which cost him almost all of his gold. So by the time they reached Sepharia and had rented a room in what appeared to be a rather lively part of town, due in part to the building across the street owned by Lilly Worth and her daughter, Victoria, they had only enough gold to last them a few months. It pained Maldra but it looked as though he might have to ask Lord Agrippa for help. Luckily, such troubles didn't occupy him at the moment, for at this precise moment in time he was having his legs kicked inwards by the fighter hitherto referred to as ‘some woman'.

She was magnificent, he had to admit. Even from his vantage point, spread-eagled on the floor with his arm being held behind his back and her knee digging into the small of his back, he could see that. Slowly she got up and allowed him to breathe again. Pushing himself up onto all fours and still wheezing pathetically, he looked up at her and squinted with his one uninjured eye, "Shall we do it again Evelyn? Or are you too tired to continue?" Inside, the small section of his mind given to reason and sensibility was screaming profusely but the other part of his mind, the part that too often ruled him wouldn't let her defeat him. Over the space of weeks days he had cracked several ribs, broken his nose and a few fingers and even bruised his collar bone but by far the worst wound she had given him was the deep, throbbing one inflicted upon his ego every single time one of Evelyn's precise punches, kicks, tosses and jabs came home.

He had merely expected that she would either place herself back into a fighting stance or simply walk away from his admittedly childish challenge, instead she walked over to a nearby wall, reached up to a set of swords that Maldra had thought were merely for display, and tossed one to him whilst placing herself into a classic swordfighter's stance. Sweat beaded across his forehead, this was something else, until now it hadn't been serious, now blades were involved. Before he could either protest or place himself in a stance suitable for such a fight, she rushed him, weaving left and right, her sword a blur of steel, it was all he could to dodge away from the deadly silver snake. He was pushed back further and further towards one stone wall, frantically dodging her blade. He swung around her back, running doggedly to the middle of the room where she rushed him again, his weak attempts at parrying her blows were met with a defence not dissimilar from that which Thadius has used whilst training. He was tiring quickly and soon he felt his muscles begin to tighten and seize, he knew he couldn't take much more of such punishment but the voice, the egotistical little voice right at the back of his mind wouldn't let him stop.

It didn't matter anyway, Evelyn brought the fight to an abrupt halt with a firm roundhouse kick to his chest that sent Maldra spinning to the floor and before he could rise again she had a sword less than an inch from his neck. He slumped to the floor in quiet submission and finally accepted that this was the end of training for the day.

Things carried on in this manner, each surprising the other with new challenges and trials until one day Evelyn came to Maldra with a proposal, "I have been training the Lord Agrippa's son, Cornelius for most of the time that I haven't spent with you, and I believe that you are both at roughly the same stage in your physical and mental training. I'd like you to duel, use whatever rules you wish but I'd like to see how you compare to one another. And with those words the door to the training room opened and in stepped the oddest-looking Lordling Maldra had ever seen, for a start he held himself more like a commoner, he didn't dress like a Lord either, he wore a simple leather vest and trousers and had nothing more than a belt knife for armament. Cornelius Agrippa certainly didn't look like the son of one of Alyria's most powerful Lords, however there was something about his eyes, they seemed to take in everything, they expressed great kindness but somehow they told you that the young Lord was no fool.

Despite having a certain amount of disdain for one another, each of the Lords gave a small but courteous bow and stepped into their own most comfortable fighting stances. Each lord selected their preferred weapon from the table next to them, Maldra chose a long handled broadsword whilst Agrippa opted for the dagger at his hip, which, it would seem, was much more than a hunting knife. It gleamed a brilliant crimson in the light and threw a pale red reflection upon the floor, only as Maldra began charging towards Agrippa with the sword raised above his head did he realise his mistake, he had no way to parry, block or in any way defend against such a small weapon, it was too late to change his mind as he came within three feet of his opponent, Agrippa ducked, rolled around and dug a deep gash along Maldra's leg. Maldra limping and Agrippa with a small but obvious smile across his lips, they returned to their starting positions. This time Maldra chose a slightly smaller yet equally deadly weapon, a wand, simply made and not in any way adorned with magical symbols yet it still held a power greater than Agrippa alone possessed, and that is perhaps what Maldra needed, digging it out from inside the folds of his robe, he hesitated only briefly and then turned to face his opponent.

This time Agrippa hesitated slightly when he saw the wand, it wasn't common practice to allow items with magical proprieties into a duel, it was considered dishonourable and a dirty way to fight, but Maldra was dirty fighter. They both charged one another again but this time Maldra stopped short, digging one foot into the ground he came to a stop, before Agrippa could get within feet of his opponent Maldra raised the wand and point it levelly at Agrippa, speaking several short, sharp words the wand erupted in light, a long stream of white lightning edged out of the tip and tentatively felt the air around itself. Time stood still for a second, both opponents fixated by the white light edging out the wand, then suddenly the light flew out of the wand in a seemingly endless stream, imbedding itself in Agrippa's chest, Agrippa sank to his knees with a grunt, unable to find the energy to resist the force of the spell. Maldra spoke just one more word of command and a small but quick blue spark flew down the white line, impacting with Agrippa and as it did so growing to encompass all of Maldra's opponent in a brilliant blue light. Maldra snapped his fingers and the light; the stream of energy and even the wand itself vanished. Agrippa slumped forward to the floor without producing so much as a groan.

Evelyn rushed forward to help Agrippa, turning him over she let out a tight gasp, Agrippa was completely unconscious but more worrying than that was that even Evelyn's repeated slapping was insufficient to wake him. She rounded on Maldra, eyes narrowed, cheeks a deep crimson, "What did you do to him Maldra? What was that you cast upon him? You know magic isn't allowed in Duels, especially not combat magic, what were you thinking? Agrippa is completely out of it." Suddenly, as the adrenaline in his system receded, the blood drained from his face as it occurred to him what he had done, what he had nearly done, he strained to recover his voice, "I....I...Stopped his heart, just for a second, I didn't mean to knock him out, I just wanted to get him to the floor, to end the duel quickly..." He trailed off into silence, then felt at the wound in his leg, it was still sore but right now he was much more worried about the health of his sparring partner. If he died, the petty differences between Beltane and Rune would erupt into full-scale conflict, outright war that could even draw the rest of Alyria with it.

Desperately, Maldra tried to think of some way to repair the situation, he burst through the door to the training room and looked frantically around for Jacquard, the newly employed tutor for the magical arts. With Jacquard nowhere to be seen Maldra burst out onto Solomon Street, staring frantically around in every direction, desperate for help. Off in the distance he could see Threetooth conversing with a young Ogre adventurer, fresh from Lasler village. Maldra, already in a panic, pushed through the crowd, ordered the Ogre to follow him and led Threetooth back to the training area, there he told the Ogre to pick Agrippa up and carry him over his shoulder. Evelyn just looked on in confusion.

Maldra and his bodyguard ran through the streets of Rune, desperately seeking help, and it came in the form of a gruff voice floating out of Yew Court, just out of sight Doctor Rune was conversing with yet another patient, prescribing a cure for some disease or other. Maldra and Threetooth pushed through the crowd to meet the Doctor, "Ah, My Lord Maldra, a pleasure to see you again so soon, are your ribs healing properly? Or is there something el—" the Doctor cut off as Threetooth, already an unsettling sight, came into view with the heir to the city draped over one giant shoulder. Maldra shoved the entire bag of gold that his father had given him into the limp hand of the Doctor, "Heal him Doctor, no matter the cost, I want him in full health by the time I depart in three days, Do you understand?" The Doctor just nodded numbly and led Threetooth through the crowd to his office on Yew Street. Maldra stood there, legs shaking slightly, partly due to the wound in his leg, partly due to the cold breeze blowing past him, and partly because of the sick worry that he might have just doomed his home to an endless war.

Maldra's final three days in Sepharia were spent training quietly with Evelyn for most of the day, he found himself much more focused on his tasks and even Evelyn was impressed with his concentration and desire to hone his skill. She commented on it more than once before he began his preparations to leave. The sensible voice in the back of his head told him that his father must have expected something would come of the hotheaded, egotistical voice controlling his actions, and he was right, Maldra also suspected that his father had known that such an incident would provoke the more serious side of his son to become more active. Although he could never admit it, Maldra was glad for his time here, or at least he would be if he could finally be sure that he hadn't started an Alyria-wide war.

As these thoughts began to subside the door opened a crack and Maldra, who had expected Threetooth to be standing glumly in the doorway, dropped the pile of clothes he was carrying on to the bed and crossed his hands over his chest before looking up at the rather bandaged form of Cornelius Agrippa and muttering, "You're alright then I see; I'm glad to hear it, for a while I was worried that I might have started a war between our cities..." Maldra trailed off, unsure how he should talk to the man who was not only his enemy, but also a man he had very nearly killed, he readily expected Agrippa to be angered by the event but Maldra wasn't prepared for the reaction he did get, Agrippa just smiled placidly and placed a hand on Maldra's shoulder, "We may both hate the ground the other walks on, and that won't change, but let's start by agreeing that we're both glad I'm not over at Dumbar's right now, yes?" The smile on Agrippa's face disappeared, he coughed roughly, clapped his nemesis on the shoulder before shuffling out of the room. Maldra decided that it was a good start to a relationship, if there ever could be a good start, and anyway, Agrippa trusted him now. If he ever needed to stab Agrippa in the back, the man wouldn't expect it at least, it would be a dirty thing to do, but then again, Maldra was a dirty fighter.