The capitol sat on a small pteau carved out of a much rger pin by an old river. Five bridges offered access to the colorful city. Approag revealed a small line of shanty structures following the rim of the yon fre te. Of the five, they proceeded to the most gested one, which appeared to be sidered the mairance for that particur side. The long liarted at a security checkpoint by the gate where each person’s body was given a cursory check. The guards seemed to just look them up and down before letting them in. This slowed the line down somewhat, but when Josarl reached the front, it became apparent that it was not nearly as bad as he expected.
“Helmet off. Let us look at your face,” said the guard.
Josarl plied, briefly revealing his features. The guard nodded with satisfa and waved him through. The helmet returo his head. Once he was through the gate, he ed the capitol with his eyes.
It was a city of marble. Now among the metropolitan forest, Josarl could see how artists had applied reds, blues and gold to create shapes that were remi of fire, water and wind, but with an abstraess he’d never seen before. Buildings gradually grew taller as they he city ter, inspiring a sehat everything grew upwards towards the pace, which itself reached for the stars with massive towers strung together by small bridges. Josarl felt drawn towards the pace the way a fish skewered by a mariner’s harpoon found itself reeled in. A bustling popution trasted their city with an appalling gloom-drained energy. Corpses were more lively than most of the people he could see.
While he felt drawn to assist those that he beheld, Josarl was held back by both his procedural doe and his pressio find those orks. With his focus readjusted, he made his way directly towards the pace. Impressive from afar, the engineering genius arent to anyone who uood just he the pace was. The tral tower alone overshadowed the rest of the city with a girth so great that it enpassed several city blocks and a height that seemed precarious upon closer viewing. Simply walking towards it ed a couple hours. Once he arrived at the pace grounds, he tried to pry information from the first gate guard.
“Excuse me. I have retly entered a party of orks ihe border. To whom would I report this occurrence.”
“T’ain’t naught to report to. ‘Ay’ve all gon’.”
“Gone? Where?”
“Off.”
“Yes, off where?”
“He means they’re at the succession ceremony,” said a toneless voice.
Josarl turoward this new speaker. She was a muscur, scar-den woman a leather skirt, blood-stained boots and nothing else.
“I see.” He sounded uionally wooden in his delivery. His preparations for the strangeness of new worlds had been a poor help in rapidly adjusting to social norms that were extremely ter to those he knew. Immediately a sense of thankfulness welled up for his helmet. “And the ceremony-”
The woman held up her hand. “I’ll show if you tell,” she said. “e over here. I’m Vroll Keeta.” She headed through the gate with Josarl in tow.
“I am Josarl Starx,” he said. “What do you wao tell you?”
“About those orks you mentioned.”
“Ah.” He hesitated slightly. “I should probably tell you that there is not much to tell. About seven days ago I entered some kind of ork band. They took something valuable from me and I need help trag them down to recover it.”
“Where was this?”
“I’m not sure. A week south as the caravan trundles.”
“That close already? That’s… ued.” Vroll Keeta assumed an introspective look, walking without talking. Josarl followed without a word, taking in their winding path. They never went up, only through. Through halls, through foyers, through passageways, through ballrooms until finally they reached the site of the succession ceremony, a hidden ke surrounded on all sides by castle walls and purveyor of a se just beyond the fringes of Josarl’s uanding.
It is here that one must excuse this author as they must now diverge from the source materials reting that time to adequately expin the se he beheld in prehensible terms. If you do not uand the cept of pumpkin spice, I must further apologize, since my target audies in that finite band hly two billion, four hundred million, six huhousand and ge realities which share the on traits of ah duplicate, pumpkin spid Ameris driving on the left side of the road.
Off to the left, on the ke shore, a stone dais rose up like an inplete doear where Josarl aa stood was a line of men. Most were well dressed, carrying the smug gittish bearing of the upper css, but a handful of shabby, peasant looking men were mixed in as well. In the ter of the ke, two bikini cd girls, lounged on a pool float se it was bigger than a rowboat. They had a miniature bar set up in the back where they could make margaritas and chatted incessantly with each other. The only distin Josarl could make of them at that distance was that one wore a blue bikini with neon pink pstic gsses of some variety and the other wore the exact same attire, only in yellow with neon green pstic gsses of some variety. Whenever a man from the liepped onto the dais, one of the girls would raise her hand into the air. A cymore would materialize and they would casually throw it. The poor sod on the dais would attempt to catch it, fail and be impaled, usually falling off the dais as a result. Whichever girl was looking on would make some excmation like “Yas girl!” with a successful hit before returning to their versation and giggling. The didate would step up, the sword would dematerialize and reappear in the hand of whichever girl raised one and the process would repeat.
Here the author oily return to primary sources instead of drawing on his borderline infinite knowledge. Josarl stared on the se as if he stared down the ination of madness itself.
“This is the ceremony?” he asked incredulously.
Keeta nodded. “Such has been their way for half a millennia. Anyone may bee king. All they have to do is catch Dazzling and they gain all of its power.”
“How many-”
A siing, snapping fused with a medium spsh drew his attention to the most ret victim, who mao survive the sword and had just fallen into the water. Men ran up as the victim began drowning and dragged him out.
“Hoeople does this kill?”
“I hear it varies,” Keeta said thoughtfully as one would recite sports figures. “Sometimes a few, usually a few dozen. Two hundred years ago there arently a really bad one where two thousand people died trying to cim the . The ceremony took seven months that time just because they started having trouble finding people to try it.”
A whooshing sound drew their attention in time to see the maruck clear through his chest with such force his corpse performed a back flip.
“And these are the people I am to ask for help?” asked Josarl.
“Unfortunately. I tell you where the orks took your valuables, but getting there is the problem.”
“Why and where?”
“Because they took it to their lord, deep in the heart of Lessdor. Their current homend a of their military efforts. You’ll need help just to- Oh, there goes another one!”
A new victim had just been cut down by Dazzler while the two girls high-fived.
“Assuming anyone here survives this, they’ll almost certainly anize an expedition into Lessdor that very day.”
“Not on my at surely.”
“Oh, nay!” Keeta chuckled. “They found the dark lord’s hammer, the secret to his power. It only be destroyed in the pce it was fed. After what it did to the st king they will surely seek its destru.”
“What happeo him?”
“He tried to use the hammer te a on more powerful than Dazzler a mad. itted suicide, is the rumor.”
A murmur rippled the crowd as Dazzler had ricocheted off of the dais into the air, flipped around and impaled the tender from above. The words “Trick shot!” echoed out from the girls.
“This could be awhile,” Keeta said as kindly as her grizzled warrior voice would allow.
“What are the rules, precisely?” Josarl had noticed a pattern in the sword throws upon whi idea had been founded.
“Just catch the sword and you ot allow it to impale you as a means of catg it.”
Josarl let his silent stare ask his question.
“A few of the kings may have gaiheir throhat way, relying on Dazzler’s power to heal themselves afterward.”
“And those are the only rules?”
“Yes.”
“Good. First, we need someone who’s not going to try to use the hammer and will allow me to go with the group. Do you know anyone?”
Keeta shook her head. “I’m not just going to list off any old person. We need someone who will give me what I want as well.”
“Very well. What do you want?”
“Some troops to clear out a newly discovered way through the mountains.”
“Is that how the orks are getting through?”
Keeta sighed. “Yes. Mine are a warrior people, charged to guard what was ohought to be the only pass into Lessdor territory. We are too few in o ter this new passage and geions of service have left us worse off than before. We o longer make our own ons, we hunt everything and many of our wisest are sed for their ck of bat prowess. Any deformity is looked down on. At this rate, we will die out.”
“Then we must find one who will acquiesce to both ditions.” Josarl surveyed the line. “Any idea where to start?”
“We could try Baron Fooldor, or Lord Deff.”
“Any preference?”
“Baron Fooldor would make a better battlefield ander. In the long term he may not be the best didate, but he’d at least allow the kingdom to survive for long term s to bee problems.”
“And Lord Defflea?”
“He’d be easier to vince, more ameo our ideas, but he’s never been a soldier. He has more in on with merts than other nobles.”
“This is your world. I will follow your example so long as I get what I need.”
“Very well. Follow.” Keeta parted the crowd before her as she walked. She led Josarl down the line of tenders until she found a scarred, small framed man well endowed with muscles and scars. “Baron Fooldor,” Keeta gave a slight curtsy. “We e with propositions.”
“In the middle of the ceremony? Dht disrespectful! How dare you profahis revered event-” The baron was cut off by a tender being impaled through the shoulder, flopping off the dais and screaming. When the teepped up and Dazzler dematerialized, the screaming ma quiet, though whether that was from death or relief from pain could not be dised from where they stood. “As I was saying: how dare you profahis revered event with such crass demands! Begone!”
Keeta g Josarl and made a motion with her head for him to follow. They walked down the liowards a man of average build, with gsses and a blue silk tunic.
“Lord Deff,” Keeta gave a slight curtsy. “We e with propositions.”
“You wish to make a deal?” The lord’s voice carried an austerity that grated on Josarl. It dripped with pretensions and ambition. It also hit those higher pitches one reaches when their ce is failing.
“Yes, m’lord,” said Keeta. “We offer a strategy to give you kingship in exge for our pleas.”
“And what would you plead?”
“I seek the formation of a new guard unit to assist my people in guarding a new way through the mountains. My panion seeks assistaering Lessdor to retrieve an heirloom from enemy hands.”
Lord Deff looked to the dais. A new tender was gurgling his st while selfishly sprawling all over the dais. “Perhaps some assistance would be perti,” he said with a pale face. “Very well, if your pn gives me the sword, I will grant your pleas. Now, what is your pn?”
Josarl stepped close to the lord while Keeta watched those around to dissuade them from overtly listening.
“We will bring you a log. When the sword is thrown, you must wait until it is past half way to you. Then, you throw the log into the sword’s path. It o be close to the dais when it hits, so that you grab it as it falls. It would not stop the sword fully, it is a log, not a shield, but it would slow it, grant you more time to seize the bde. With luck, it might even embed into the log, though I doubt it. Do you uand?”
“Indeed. Yes, fetch me this and I will seize the day!” Lord Deff’s face seemed to have brightened siderably.
Keeta and Josarl walked into the encve’s woods and found a small log. It had some heft, but it merely o be tossed a short distand the extra mass would be o overe Dazzler’s momentum. By the time they returned, Lord Deff was only third in line.
“Here you are, Lord,” said Josarl. “Remember, toss, not throw.”
“I uand.”
The pair stepped away to watch. The first in liepped onto the dais. Dazzler was tossed like a spear with such force the poor man flew into the castle wall and was impaled there. The two girls’ cheers drifted over the ke. The man in front of Lord Deff stepped onto the dais. Dazzler tumbled end over end through the air and smacked the hapless man in the jaw, before falling ier. There were ries, so he walked away, the luckiest man so far. Then it was Lord Deff’s turn.
He walked onto the dais with the log. Dazzler dematerialized auro the hand of the girl with the pink gsses. She casually tossed it underhand straight up. It spun and spun and spun in a high arc that was hard to follow against the te m sun. Dazzler fell like a thunderbolt. Lord Deff chucked the log as hard as he could. It bumped Dazzler off course just enough that it fell pommel first and Lord Deff caught it. An eerie silenketed the proceedings. All looked towards the girls. They were whispering with each other.
“We will allow it, this time!” They decred. “But only this time!” the oh pink gsses added quickly.
Trumpets erupted all around them as the royal was brought to Lord Deff. Now decred King Deff, he desded the dais and decred, “There will be no further ceremonies! We feast tonight, but today we must form my court! We have much to do!”
F the court turned out to only take an hour. Just about every tender went into the ceremony expeg to win and so prepared their courts beforehand. Once King Deff’s court had assembled, he summoned Keeta and Josarl. Seated ohroh an array of courtiers lining the room, he gave them his first official decree.
“I, King Deff, do hearby decre the formation of the Order of the Anvil! Its duty is t the hammer of our foe to the pce it be destroyed. We have a volunteer hammer bearer already. Step forward, Josarl Starx!”
Josarl did as he was bid and a pair of soldiers brought him a box suspended on two poles and ed in s. Keys were brought forward and the process of opening the box atiently seen through until finally the box itself was unlocked. The soldiers lifted the heavy lid, revealing the object of great fear.
“Behold, the tool of our enemy!” King Deff cried. “Be warned now, Josarl Starx, it will corrupt all who bear it. Do not use its power, for that will merely make the corruption seize you swiftly! You must resist for the erip! Are you prepared?”
“I am, liege.” Josarl felt out of pce speaking those words to a king that was not his own, but he was ready to do many unfortable things to get home.“Then take the hammer!”
Josarl looked into the box. An ivory handle and a red metal head greeted his eyes. Upon seizing the hammer he felt a power flow into him, like all of creation was his to and. A voice whispered in his head. It spoke with anguish and with pleading. It spoke.
And it said, “There be no justider feudalism.”
