3. C-E-C-I-L

C-E-C-I-L


  • On the first page of a fairly brand new book… is five letters. They are written in a childish scrawl. Their intent however, is clear.

    C E C I L

    It would appear someone is learning to write.


  • Another quiet afternoon in Norwick, sunny until the rain started, was being commented on about the fire. An elf and a few humans sat about the fire, each far different from the other.

    The elf was hooded and cowled, his face hidden from sight, a bow on his back. One human was toothless and grinning, wearing bright colors that he liked to call "Sunny!" The other, a large-framed Illuskan fellow with a great Halberd on his back, jagged and mean looking, with a surprisingly friendly smile on him. The third was wearing leathers, also with a bow.

    They spoke for a while of random things, until the conversation turned to that of the night to come. Attacks had come, recently, of all kinds. A Wandering Temposan came by offering blessings for a fee, and possibly his aid for the same, which got cecil to comment something along the lines of "If you're such a Temposan, shouldn't you be coming to the fight anyhow?"

    He was rewarded with remarks about how the vigil at the gate was useless, and the drow would get by anyhow, and that they were wasting their time, but Cecil knew better. This fellow was no better than the others who were content to either underestimate the Drow, or overestimate them and give up before they started, claiming that they would be better off guarding inside, to keep the townsfolk safe.

    Cecil, Yngdir the elf, Metusalem the "Sunny" one, and Caelian went to the gates, and lit a fire right before them, to keep those that would hide in the dark at bay, and settled in to wait to see what would happen.

    Sure enough, a dark shape materialized out of the shadows!

    It was not what anyone expected.

    A Black Lion, sleek and large and powerful looking growled softly at them, as if in greeting and in warning of it's presence at the same time, should any try to attack it.

    Cecil stepped forward immediately, and bowed before it, dropping trophies on the ground as if he had been expecting the creature, it's fur midnight and shimmering in an almost ethereal fashion.

    An Umberhulk shell, pierced by Cecil's halberd. Goblin charms from their better fighters. A horrid looking belt made of goblinskin from the looks of it, taken from a powerful goblin who appeared to take on Cecil last time he had seen the Lion.

    All trophies, all taken by the creature, who seemed well pleased. Cecil spoke then, after staring at the lion for a long moment, and declared that they must go south.

    "The Black Sun eats our axe, in the cave by the lake. You must save it."

    That was enough for Cecil, and he readied himself, while Yngdir expressed concern about the gate. Confidently, Cecil replied "The Lion would not take us away if it would cause harm to innocents. " and left, Caelian and Metusalem in tow.

    They were met early on by goblins, after avoiding the pigs and spirits in the ruins. "We need not waste our strength on such petty foes" he had said, intending to save his strength and self for the task at hand, not knowing what lay ahead, and not caring, knowing full well he would need to complete this task above all else.

    Then the attack happened. A large force of goblins swarmed over them, and the air itself turned red. Cecil was in front, and bellowed out a challenge, making the first goblin falter in his steps, and he was unable to meet Cecil's hammer as it swung to block it. His face dissolved into a fine spray into the face of the goblin behind him, who only had a moment to register what happened before the hammer continued, not even slowing.

    Cecil's arms were like tree-branches in a storm, whipping violently back and forth, his hammer a blur of metal and red, the sickening sound of crunching bone become a never-ending staccato like a macabre drummer on the march. As soon as one goblin died, another was there to take it's place, only to meet the same fate. Caelian and Metusalem took any that came to Cecil's side, or around him in the press of bodies, but anything that came near Cecil was destroyed, the trees they stood by becoming cakes in discarded flesh, gore, and viscera, with tattered scraps of clothing hanging on bits of splintered bone that had hit the tree with enough force to act like nails, the effect a grotesque pennant of sorts.

    Silence… the forest itself seemed stunned, the whole thing over in about a minute, Cecil standing atop a true hill of bodies that would have been nearly as tall as him had he fallen into it, but instead he had climbed his foes as he hewed them down, to gain the high ground advantage with his long arms and hammer, and he stepped down with a laugh, while Caelian and Metusalem looked at him with slightly surprised expressions.

    "Well done..." was said, and Cecil replied with a simple "Thanks..." panting slightly from the rush of battle, and they strode forward to seek more.

    More fights like this one were found on the way to the cave, and again the ground was painted for yards as if with buckets of it thrown haphazardly about, or grenades filled with it were tossed by dozens of artists of a vile sort.

    The Black Lion appeared, and charged into battle, only to vanish, followed immediately by Cecil who screamed a blood-chilling battle cry, and struck with even more ferocity than before, bodies that weren't turned to a fine mist of vascular ruin flung yards away to crumple, dead before they hit the ground, bystanders could have made a game of how many times they bounced.

    Then, the cave. They went in together, and were immediately set upon by men, not goblins. Men in purple and black, men who sneaked about in shadows before flinging themselves at Cecil's party, men who died like the goblins, but with far more screaming, and a couple more hits to dispatch them. Their cries alerted their friends and soon the halls were filled with the clang of steel on steel, daggers stabbing from darkness, bones breaking and screams rending the air once more, and arrows zipping towards the uniforms of those who infested the cave.

    Caelian was nearly struck down by a sneak, Cecil hemmed in away from him next to Metusalem, who was otherwise engaged too, when ominous chanting that had merely been background before rose to fever pitch. The altar in the center of the room glowed malignantly, filling the room with a sickening purple light that glinted macabre of of the blooksoaked armor and bodies in the room as the floor became slick with death.

    Caelian returned to the fray, dealing death with arrows and blade, even as Metusalem's fists seared flesh with electricity and pummeled bones, all the while Cecil's hammer kept up it's grisly work, until there was a break in the press of bodies. "You will fall!" he bellowed, the priest at the altar screaming back defiantly "Kill them! I'll kill you! Diieee!" even as he was charged.

    The hammer rained down, the Kukri's flashed, the fist struck, and the man fell, a last spell that had just begun to light his fingers, flashing out of existence along with the life that fueled it. Once more... it was quiet.

    The altar pulsed Malavolently, and the various gear and prizes to be taken were moved, while Cecil picked up the priest, the leader of these Dark Sun followers, and threw him unceremoniously onto his own altar. He then hefted the Axe Caelian handed him, the Lion's Axe that he was sent to recover, lifting it high. "You will be destroyed with your thing of evil!" he cried out, and brought the axe crashing down.

    The axe split the altar in twain, the body not slowing it in the least as it cut through, and there was a deafening explosion as the negative energy in the room was released upwards, consuming the figure and itself, leaving a scorch mark on the ground instead of remains... and it was done.

    The Lion appeared again, and Cecil presented the axe, only to be told that it was his now, and he would use it in the coming tests, for there would be more. Then, the sounds of mining could be heard in the quiet.

    The Lion was gone once again, and Cecil and his new friends went to the room on the other side of the two doors, to find Cyricist slaves mining, with goblins there to help. They were attacked immediately, before the slaves realized they were outmatched, and they ran while the goblins were cut down. None of them made it very far... each one was consumed in a purple flash of light, and fell down dead as if their very soul had been ripped from them.

    It seemed their master, even though perhaps only a master by force, did not care for cowards. Cecil returned with his friends to find Yngdir had come to check on them at first light outside the cave, where another goblin awaited. He wore finer garments than goblins were usually prone to, and shrieked "You killed my minions! All of them! You killed them all! Now I kill you!" and he charged!

    Cecil and Caelian and Metusalem fought the goblin though they were already wounded, and found renewed strength as they did, knowing this had to be the last hurdle before they could return triumphant. The goblin died indeed like the rest, though with a good deal more effort, and Yngdir showed up to tell them that the town was indeed still safe, and he had come to make sure they made it back safely.

    The Temposan was nowhere to be found it town, and Cecil spared a small thought as to whether he had even stayed to see if the battle would come to the town at all, but he doubted it. Those who speak with actions are better heard than talkers, and this one seemed a talker.

    They had won the day, resoundingly, and Cecil's spirit was high indeed. This was another test, perhaps the first true test, and he had passed. Now, he couldn't wait for the next, especially if there was another item in these lands that belonged to the Lion.

    Time will tell, and Cecil will be waiting.

    ===============Writing below the last writing in the book =====

    Gott back Lions Axe. Moar chalenges to com.


  • It wasn't an ordinary patrol.

    It would have been. Could have been even, but Adelie was there with Cecil, and that changed everything.

    First, Cecil thought about what had happened just before. Kresha and he had decimated the hobgoblins, and even ventured forth into their caves. It was a fairly long trip, but each hobgoblin was met with a furious attack from kresha and that frightening sword, and usually a following finishing blow from Cecil's crushing hammer.

    They proceeded like that until they reached the cave, where Kresha said they should go in, just to take a look, even after Cecil said that someone had told him it may very well be Ostromog's lair entrance.

    Go in they did, and found the place sort of quiet, and they killed until they were once more covered in the blood of their enemies, luckily finding none too powerful for them. They decided to leave, when a caster had at them with a nasty spell, and then ran off.

    "He may be going to get others…"

    "Hurry let's go before we're followed!"

    And thus, they flew. Kresha and Cecil ran back to the lake, and walked the rest of the way to town with nothing 'very' eventful to report, other than a very successful patrol.

    It was after that, when Adelie showed up. Cecil entertained the idea she had come to see him... despite figuring he knew better. Together, they went west. It went from patrol, to adventure, fast! Soldiers rushed them constantly, fire exploded from the goblin's grenades, and the occasional goblin bigger than the rest with a mean axe would show up, and take on Cecil and Adelie while the rest of the goblins pounded at their flank!

    They returned victoriously to town, saving the scrolls and the like to sell in Peltarch, selling the rest, and heading back out, their taste for adventure not yet quenched. Adelie hadn't fought goblins before, now Cecil was going to show her hobgoblins.

    Adelie, is a marvel to watch fight. She can evade like she's made of smoke, and strike like an adder when an enemy presents an opportunity, and those things are not lost on Cecil at all. He is brute strength, with surprising finesse thrown in, and a knack for timing. When an enemy falls, or flounders, that horse-mauler of a weapon of his, or his hammer, are quick to finish it off, and continue on in the same strike to another, a blue of motion and the promise of pain.

    The hobgoblins felt the hit that day, and a lucky find of some coin and POTIONS! gave Adelie and Cecil the ability to carry on, though a hobgoblin's curse had slowed Cecil considerably.

    Adelie's potion, she gave to Cecil, and it invigorated him enough to continue, which they did... into harpy territory. Their distracting song proved harsh for Cecil's ears, though Adelie fared better against it, but still harpies fell to them. The adventurers wanted for some reason to carve their way to the shore, to see if it could be done, blood pumping and Cecil's heart singing for battle.

    And make it to the shore they did, though Wyverns of various sizes and more harpies did their able best to stop them. What DID stop them... was the sight of an angry cave troll, and the sight of them that it registered in it's tiny, angry brain.

    "What's that?"

    "That's a Troll!"

    "Aw man, those are real too!? Shit! "

    Blood. Green skin. Hair. Paint from armor. The air was filled with debris and sound, until the Troll fell with a horrible scream. Hideous, was the creature especially in death, but Cecil was not distracted. Since all those supposed stories were true of creatures like this existing...

    Flames leapt high as Cecil poured oil on the corpse, and set it alight, the flesh crackling and sizzling ominously, with a gut-tearing stench. The creature had treasure though... and Adelie and Cecil split it up, beaming at their luck.

    The march to town was long and arduous, and they had to fight their way back for much of it, but they succeeded, where they were strangers to the land, and new to the creatures there.

    Now that, was Cecil's idea of adventure.

    =============writing on the next page =============

    Anuther trofie!


  • -It was evening… then morning came, just as they returned.

    They, being Commander Kresha Vinland, and Cecil Longarrow.
    She had taken him out for some testing of sorts, to see how combat capable he was, and by her words, she was impressed with him. He was pleased, and in high spirits when they made it to the bridge by the lake.

    They had gone west, far west, and taken on goblins of a more powerful nature, just to see how far Cecil could go. He kept pace with Kresha, though it cost him more than a couple of potions... magic was a nasty thing, after all.

    At the bridge on the return trip, a couple of smaller goblins harried them, the usual runts and short ones, waving their little knives and probably threatening in goblin to remove your toes for their stew.

    "Recruit!"

    Kresha's cry hit Cecil's ears even as he was already turning, to see a Goblin with a ridiculous little hat... and not-so-ridiculous magic casting on himself, then turning to Kresha with ill intent.

    A roar from Cecil, and a swing of what Kresha affectionately called his "Horse Mauler" brought Cecil into the fight, Kresha flanking the critter. He was fast, and dodged many a blow, Cecil having to be careful not to clip Kresha with his jagged Halberd. That would piss her off for more reasons than one....

    The goblin was adept at magic, and healing himself apparently... and took a while to bring down, but bring him down they did. His remains were strewn about a bit from the three blades that bit into him as he fell, and as Kresha looked around, Cecil got a feeling of being watched. A very distinct one... followed by a soft growling.

    He turned, and there he was. The Black Lion. The whole reason he had come to these lands, and enlisted himself to protect the people he came across, the reason he had not yet passed his test of manhood in his tribe, and was a boy of twenty or so years.

    Had he truly failed? Or was it a matter of him being destined to have to prove himself against greater things? He called out to Kresha not to attack it as he took in the sight of his Spirit Totem, his guide, his Sigul, and glanced back at her to make sure she heard.

    "Don't attack what?" she asked, and looked past him.

    There was nothing but empty space...

    The following entry is found on the second page of Cecil's journal.

    (There is a picture of a black lion, a ruined statue like the ones by the lake behind it, with the following words beneath it)

    He Is Heer.