Inheritance - Valeran Orbarskyr

Working Title. Will likely be changed. All writing will likely be rewritten. Normally I write something, then rewrite it several times before I am happy with it. In this case, I will write the first draft here to allow fellow Narfellian writers and scholars to critique. I will include a draft version foot note on each post.

Inheritance Series
Book One: Adventure Awaits

This is the background story for Valeran and Rimm. Rimm may later decide to record his background seperate but for now they are being written together. As a note, Rimm = Real Life brother playing. Yay for converts.

Inheritance

Chapter One

_Ruffing the hair of his younger brother Rimm, Valeran smiled as he watched the rider approaching. The black and gold armor clearly marked him as a member of the Golden Legion, his father's personal guard and mercenaries of some small renown within Cormyr. But Valeran and Rimm did not find themselves in Cormyr this day, nor had they ever been there. They were outcasts, exiled for crimes against the throne, or rather Vashere Orbarskyr was and any of his descendants. That left Valeran and Rimm at the small manor they now watched the Legionnaire riding toward.

As the Legionnaire dismounted he offered a bow first to Valeran then to Rimm. His greying beard showed his age, his steel blue eyes his somber purpose. He was only to return if the ancient threat buried in the Narfell region became a concern again. Commander Troth Betold was a loyal and capable man who would not have returned for something trivial, nor jeopardised his infiltrated position within Peltarch. With a slight smile for Valeran he strode into the manse. His message would not be shared with Valeran or Rimm.

Sighing, Valeran stood up. Rimm seemed to be staring at the blade left strapped to the horse. Valeran strode off without a backward glance. Sliding around the corner of the house he walked up to a tree. He knew it well and had climed it many times over the last years. His first time doing so ended with a broken arm. A week later, he was at it again. He hadn't fallen off since. Climbing it with a speed that came from practice and familiarity, Valeran was quickly at the top. Walking carefully with his arms held out for balance, he moved along a narrow limb towards the house. Jumping, he landed on the balcony of the room his father would use for important meetings while he was here. Landing with what he thought was too audible a thump, Valeran waited for the space of several heart beats before moving closer to the door. Then he heard voices.

"I can not confirm that, sir. I can only confirm that the talisman did as you said it would. As ordered, I have come personally to tell you." Troth's voice was easily recogniseable. It had often seemed cold and hard during his lessons to Valeran and Rimm on sword play and theology, but it had become a familiar and comftorable one during the many years their father had been away. With Vashere's return though, Troth had been sent on a mission and the two boys had not seen him in several years.

"I need you to deliver a message for me. Here is to whom you will take it. I will not speak it here. You know what to do with them after you have read them. The Rook moves now." Valeran had gotten used to the often cryptic meetings his father had. Often he would not even see the person he was meeting arrive. Leaning against the door he waited to see if more would be said. Then suddenly the door was opening and he was falling inward. The wooden floor greeted him just as he expected a head ache and a lecture would soon.

"And you… you and your brother will travel to Narfell. It is time to see if all you have learned can be put to use. You wanted adventure? Here is your chance, Valeran. You and Rimm will enter Narfell as I once did... well almost as I once did." Vashere smiled slightly as if remembering something but then his smile was gone. "Do not take uneccessary risks. Valin will escort you there."

A pixie appeared from nowhere and settled onto the ground then suddenly erupted into the semblance of a tall man. His head was shaved save a single top knot and tribal tatoos were visible on his face. Wearing armor made of bear fur, the vicious axe he adjusted on his side, matched by a long wicked spear, made Valeran step back, then he recognised the face and smiled.

"Uncle Valin!" Valin smiled backand strode forward clasping him on the shoulders. "You've grown. A man now."

"You should see Rimm! He's taller than I am." Valin's smiled disappeared.

"We leave in the morning. Ye best gather your things, lad. And once we are in Narfell, I suggest you try not to listen in on other people's conversations so much." With a hearty laugh, he patted Valeran's back as he pushed him towards the interior door. "Ye'll soon have all the adventure ye can stomach lad."

As Valeran left, the door closed behind him. The three men likely had much more to discuss and he would not be permitted to listen in this time. Smiling, he rushed down the stairs to tell Rimm. They were going to Narfell. Adventure, glorious battles, and fabulous treasures to find! Vashere, Troth and Valin each told tales of their youth and their travels but with somber tones as if they had not enjoyed them. But their tales were full of excitement, danger, and adventure. They may not have wanted them but Valeran could not wait. Anything was better than sitting around an over sized farm house in the middle of nowhere._

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