Hero Name: Αμεγλόρ (Amorgor) – Peacemaker / Bard
Details: Last mission
Monster Hero: Eliilas (Rat/Wolf Beast)
- Report
Amorgor sat in the crux of two large branches of a great willow tree. The branches formed a cradled at his back and he lay there strumming at his lute while swinging his leg back in forth to some tune in his head. His sword, the one his father had given him, lazily drooped from the tether he had around his shoulder and sagged to the ground at the trunk of the willow. He never liked swords and swordsmanship classes bored him to tears. Often he’d find himself skipping them entirely and taking long strolls into the woods or hiking into the hills. Amorgor’s father was the King’s best tactician and upon his deathbed he passed his very own enchanted sword – the same one every Master Strategist before him had wielded, and now he – to his only son, declaring that Amorgor must take it upon himself to become the King’s next favorite tactician. To Amorgor, this was the last thing he wanted and felt it was only another way to let his father down in dishonor. One day, he thought to himself, he’d leave it all behind to become the greatest bard in the land.
Months later Amorgor found himself in the role of Master Strategist for the King, having forced himself to read the various texts his late father had left to him. The texts were taxing and dense, and only with much meditation could he find himself able to complete a tome. The title of Master Strategist however, was mostly secured by the bloodline he shared with his father’s relationship with the king than of actual feats and this was a fact the second in line for the title, Solovei, held against him. Solovei was born for leading military campaigns and lived and breathed the battlefield, even earning himself the nick name “Nightingale Bandit” by friends and foes alike. Solovei continually pressed upon the King during court meetings that at face value, Amorgor was merely Master Strategist, let alone a strategist of any kind, out of tradition, not of performance – and that “honor was everything”. Finally, the King granted Solovei the right to challenge Amorgor for the title in a duel.
The day came when Solovei’s Challenger Duel was held – and as quickly as the swords were drawn, swinging, then brought to a clashing lock, it was interrupted. Amorgor didn’t care for the duel and in his heart he knew Solovei would overcome him feeling all during the clash that Solovei’s strength and skill was much greater than his own. The interruption was one of the royal scouts with the highest-ranking embroidery signet resting upon his shoulder and adorning one of the gold circlets that each one was given. He entered and assumed a kneeling position with his gaze to the floor. Stepping back from the duel, Solovei grunted in anger at his disappointment with the interruption.
“And what brings this? Is the kingdom under attack? Are the crops on fire? Are the children crying blood?” Solovei rattled off towards the explorer.
The explorer kept his kneeling posture and stoic face, paused a moment and replied, “A dark presence was detected near the Kingdom, sir. A monster hero ravaging the country. The monsters call her Eliilas. She wields the seve-“
“I know of the demon Eliilas and her seventh level dark magics. Any paladin worth a damn has studied these horrors. Your report is noted, take leave.” Solovei interrupted. He turned to Amorgor and pointed his blade at him, “We will finish this after we deal with the demon menace...” and he turned and stormed out of the arena. Even though there was a demon army on the horizon that he must deal with, Amorgor somehow felt relieved in that moment, the duel having been delayed and his honor (and his father’s honor) still intact.
Amorgor led the army officially while Solovei rode nearby. They had made camp on a nearby fell a short distance from the monster ruins and Amorgor found himself again hiking to a solitary spot to play his lute and hum tunes he dreamed up. Footsteps sounded behind him and he turned to see Solovei standing a few yards away with his hands on his hips.
“Since our duel has been delayed, don’t go dying on me to this demon, do you hear? I want the honor of earning my title as Master Strategist, rather than it falling into my lap by default as it has for you.” Solovei stated, nodding his head toward Amorgor, then rolling it and looking away. Amorgor almost sensed a hint of kindness in the words, forgoing the insult immediately following. “I propose: a second challenge during the interim of our duel: the one to slay the least monsters on the field has to return to our duel with one hand tied behind their back! The demon Eliilas counting for a hundred score.” Amorgor feigned a crude smile that turned into a subtle cringe, but before he could accept or decline Solovei nodded to him turned back for the camp.
The battle was fierce and having little light left from the sun, the battlefield was lit with torches and sparks from arrows, weapons, and magic. Several times Amorgor found himself avoiding the direct combat, only helping occasionally on the fringe while commanding troops to engage tactically. Many times he’d scan the field and upon finding the most action spot, he would see Solovei ferociously hacking the monsters down, whirl winding with his blade and leaping into the fray. His fervor was unmatched and he seemed to gain energy the more he fought while everyone else around him tired. Surely Amorgor could not win neither the game between them nor the Challenger duel that would dishonor him forever. Suddenly Eliilas appeared from the back of her hordes and engaged Solovei. There was a great struggle for some time between them, but at some point Eliilas gained the upper hand and disarmed her opponent. As she was about to crush Solovei, a rush of adrenaline spiked through Amorgor and he leaped from his place on the side of the battle and began strumming his lute and yodeling as loud as his voice could carry. Eliilas became distracted by the out-of-place song noise and Solovei took the opportunity to kick her stomach and roll to his side, grab his blade, and hurl it into the demon’s breast in one swift motion, defeating her instantly. Panting and leaning on the ground, Solovei looked through the sweat on his face at Amorgor.
“Nine hundred…plus one hundred for Eliilas… totaling one thousand…” Solovei announced still out of breath, “…but since you helped me out there, we’ll call the game a tie… we’ll…each fight the duel with both hands…” Amorgor thought he saw Solovei grin at him before he turned and stood up wiping his brow. As the army finished off the remaining monsters and the rest fled, the troops collected the massive cache of black gems to bring back to the castle and camp.
Sometime during the battle camp’s preparation for departure, Amorgor had gone missing. All troops set to alert, it took Solovei only a few minutes to determine where he might have gone, and so gathering two of his captains he ascended with them to the quiet overlook he’d met Amorgor at the night before. When Solovei and the two captains reached the overlook, they found only a stone with a carved X in it and leaning against it Amorgor’s sword, the Master Strategist’s blade. A tiny parchment note was stuck under the point of the sword and in squirrel-print lettering was written: For Solovei, Forever Ago. Amorgor was nowhere in sight and after some searching the immediate area, the captains determined there was no where he was hiding and that he had simply left on his own accord.
“Where do you think he’s gone? Do you think the monsters got him?” one of the captains asked.
“Nay, not by the evidence here and we finished off the demons right quick, they won’t be back for some time. I reckon he’s gone off someplace where he can dance, sing, and drink until his heart’s content.” The other replied.
Solovei was silent, noting the implications of Amorgor’s flight and leaving of the sword. Was honor everything? A sudden rush of admiration filled Solovei as he thought of the young tactician, how he’d saved him on the battlefield in the most peculiar way, and how what was more important was being alive and doing so in the way that matters to each in his own way. He gripped the sword, rose and subtly brushed a tear from his eye without the captains’ notice, then subdued his emotions. On the march out of the valley they thought they could hear a merry tune playing somewhere in the far distance, echoing off the nearby fell and into the night.
