Djed Storm Repercussions (Eachann Marshall)

[Imass]

Summer 35 512
High Noon
The forge outside the Windmount Stables

It was high noon. The great sun was beating down on Syliras. This was one of the hottest days of the summer. There where rogue clouds in the distance, but otherwise the sun had dominion over the sky. Perhaps this strange weather was caused by the djed storm in spring. It was humid too. The breeze was all warm air. Knights stood around the city in the shade as to not melt underneath chainmail. Some, like Imass, removed their chainmail completely to keep off the heat.

Thus the Akalak stood in the hot sun; shirtless and sweating like a pig. He had been working all day; stacking hay, feeding the horses, making horseshoes, and rubbing down horses. Imass however never nailed them on, Quincy did that. "Q" was one of drykas pages; he had an apprentice with the Order's horse masters at the stables.

The Knights stopped for none. They were the guardians and warriors of the Windoak. They lived for the glory of Syliras. They were the only people on earth invested in the success of civilization. The Knight of Syliras would build a new world from the ashes. They would bring justice to all living creatures and create peace. The knight would use ALL his energy towards this goal. His conviction and passion was real. He gladly volunteered for everything and was quick to throw himself in the face of danger. His life goal was to be the perfect knight; the perfect soldier of the Windoak.

Thus Imass worked from sunrise to sunset. He stood over the blacksmith anvil with a dirty leather apron. His naked upper body was cover in dirt and slag. The perspiration under his armpits turned the grime into sludge. Imass was the image of a work horse at its prime.

The Knight grabbed the black thongs with leather gloves. He clenched the heated crucible filled with melted iron. Moving carefully, Imass transferred the molten metal from the furnace to the anvil and poured the hot liquid into the mold. It was a simple mold used by the knights to form horse shoes out of scrap metal. The Knights would never waste any precious resources, especially after the djed storm. They would melt the scrap metal from broken equipment, tools, and other stuff to make arrow heads, or refurbished armor. In this case Imass was making a horseshoe.

Laying out the liquid into the mold, he produced four rough shaped horse shoes. After they cooled off a little bit he was attempt to pound them into shape. Laying down the black thongs, Imass took the gloves off and wiped his eyes. There was a lot of smoke coming from the furnace for some reason.

The Knight stepped away from the workstation and continued to rub his eyes. He joked with Quincy, "Come here Q and see what's wrong with the furnace, it is smoking. Did Squire Morn throw a piece of wood in there again?" Imass laughed. He was in good spirits despite his blurry vision.

Scanning the scene around him, Imass tried to gain his clear vision back. Blinking he saw someone approaching from the pathway. The blue Akalak could not tell if the man came from the stables or from the city proper. Either way he was coming to the stables' forge. When the man got closer, Imass immediately noticed the figure that approached was the new Drykas that joined the order. The Knight had not meet the man, however he saw the man in passing earlier. Imass always asked about new recruits.

He called out to the young man, "Ah, horse boy! Come forward and speak! Have you ridden to war on horseback? Do you know how to tend to horses? What is your story?" Imass stood broad-shouldered and with his head up. He greeted the squire with a smile and bright golden eyes.

[Eachann Marshall]

If asked (as he was about to be) Eachann could not have said what lured him out of his Cave in the Bowels of Stomhold Castle, excepting that he was a child of the open plains and the huge vault of the sky, and the tiny cell which he had been granted did not even have a window, but rather a tube of dubious quality to provide his daily allotment of fresh air. It had been maddening his first night, and he hadn't slept at all until he fairly run into the streets and dozed fitfully on fountain wall. It hadn't been easy, with his new Brothers in the Knighthood patrolling as vigilantly as they did, but in the end he had managed to scrap together enough nervous cat naps to leave his eyes gritty and bleary the next morning.

Subsequent nights had not been much different, the only solace had been moving into the squires Dormitories, whereupon he at least had the solace of not being alone, as well as the unrelenting demands of Squirehood to sooth his exhausted body to sleep. Today he was wandering to the stables, in the hopes of meeting Septimus again. The Tiaden Warhorse was one of the strangest creatures the ex-pat drykas had ever met. An unbroken mare with no temper at all. It confounded everything he knew about horses for an animal with no obvious familiarity with a rider to so placidly accept one. There was a riddle there that needed working out, though he was sleeping an exhausted sleep now, Eachann still had plenty of insomnia left to spare on it.

It was not to be however for one of the full Knights, an akalak whose name he had not learned yet called out to him, querying him to give an accounting of himself. Knowing his place (and uncertain of the towering fellows) Eachann was double quick to respond, despite the dull ache of tiredness behind his eyes.

"Yes Ser!" he declared in response to the man's demand that he speak. "Not War per say ser, he continued nervously, the fingers of his right hand creeping up to rub at his neck, seeking to relieve some of the ache of exhaustion. "But I have ridden to hunt, and can hit a glassbeak in the torso at a gallop." Not an idle boast that, he had done it for true, but he preferred not to think about the incident, even a year later. "And while I am not a horse master by any means, I know some of their care and keeping Ser. I've even fouled one or two." Uncertain of what else to say, to explain his 'story' as the man had put it, Eachann let his hand drop to his side uncertainly. He did not look away from the knight who had addressed him, but neither did he offer anything further, uncertain as he was of what might be appropriate.

[Imass]

Imass approached Eachann and rested a heavy hand on the boy's shoulder. Imass no doubted smelt like hard work, but wasn't that common in Syliras? The city was rebuilding even now, so everyone was working hard. There was a twinkle the Akalak's golden colored eyeballs. His smile was genuine and from each to ear. His gaze was not threatening or violent, but rather warm and strong. Conviction and sureness filled his lungs. Imass had no reason to hide him feelings or his heart from men. He would speak plainly and openly with Eachann.

"Good, horse-boy! I remember the first time over yonder blue sea wearest I douth slain a glassbeak in my youth. That is good experience horse-boy. Slaying a glassbeak on horseback is no easy feat. If your words ring true, then thou should'st have a hard time in training. You will learn fast horse-boy!" Imass continued to smile at Eachann through jolly eyes. The Blue - Knight would bolster and encourage the new recruit with much conviction. He continued, "Thou must be ready for thy penance. Trials of combat and bravery await those who choose the path of the Knight... But do not worry about that for now. For now, it is time for hard work! Roll up your sleeves horse-boy, let’s get this fire going again, Q"

Imass turned around and walked back to the forge. He beckoned the horse-boy to follow him. Quincy was heating up the fire proper, but smoke still filled the air. Imass did not pay attention to it at first. He picked up his black smith hammer and banged it on the anvil a couple of times.

"I am Ser Imass and around here Syliran Knights work hard every day! No breaks! Thouth past life means nothing. Right now thou only goal is to shoe the horses over yonder. Think of nothing more." Imass gave simple instructions. He would waste no time chatting with Eachann. Now was time to work. The Akalak also explained how their relationship would be, "No formal recognitions are required. Come forward and speak your name. Now... Take these thongs and place the crucible deep in the fire, then I will show you what to do!"

Smoke began to fill the air. Imass was so focused on the task at hand, he didn't even find anything suspicious. The Akalak even coughed once.

Quincy walked by Eachann after Imass spoke and whispered into the Drykas' ear, "If you got somewhere to be you don't have to listen to Ser Imass. He is always over-eager and slightly over-bearing."


OOC- thanks for waiting. I took a break from the game a few days.

[Eachann Marshall]

Ser Imass, as the man had introduced himself was whatever else he might be, irresistible. Not in a 'oh la la' sort of way, (though maybe to the Ladies? Who could say.) but in the same way as a rockslide. He was boisterous enough, and amiable enough for two, that Eachann would not contest. But he was not fond of being called horse-boy, nor having kinship assumed. Even if Ser Imass had killed a glassbeak, many had done so. And it was likely easier when you were six and a half feet and pushing three hundred pounds. Eachann felt diminished in the Knights presence, and had to swallow a biting remark in response to Imass', but the other man had already moved on. Dragging a third man he had called 'Q' along like a whirlpool does a twig.

Finding a pair of tongs thrust at him, Eachann fumbled them initially, listening to the knights instructions however he shortly had if not a competent command of what he was doing then at least an adequate enough introduction not to hurt himself. 'Q' whatever the mans name might be, stopped to offer Eachann the chance to leave, but the young Squire just shook his head replying 'No Where else to be.” shortly as he continued to focus on Imass.

“My names Eachann Ser.” he said before concluding, blinking the smoke out of his eyes. 'I am at your disposal.”

[Imass]

"Well-met Eachann!" Imass pointed, "Fill that crucible with scrap metal and leave it in the embers until it is melted! There are some gloves and aprons over there. The scrap metal is over there!"

The working Knight did not teach Eachann anything, he just assumed that the boy would know at least the basic principles of how fire worked. He would leave the horse-boy figure it out by himself. If Eachann had questions Imass would answer, but the task was very simple and Imass had a good feeling this Drykas would be smart. Imass believed in the horse-boy; the zealot knight had faith in the recruits.

Imass went to work banging hot yellow iron. The Knight had not finished hitting the object half a dozen times when he was interrupted by the smoke filling the air. It was getting hotter by the moment and no long was the smoke reliable.

"Q! What is wrong with the furnace?" Imass yelled, but when he rushed to the furnace he noticed that it wasn't coming from the furnace, "Q, where is the smoking coming from?"

The other drykas kid pointed over the wall. Smoke was creeping steadily from the stables near-by! When Imass noticed the thin veil of smoke rising from behind the wall, his heart dropped into his stomach. The stables were in an open courtyard and no alarm had been made of the smoke.

"There is smoke coming from the stables!" Imass exclaimed.

A human male ran from the sharp corner and had his mouth covered. It seemed as if he had been running from the scene of the smoke.

"Speak quickly good sir! What is going on?" Imass laid down the horse shoe and stepped away from his tools. His voice was frantic and panicked.

The scene had gone from normal to panic in only a few seconds, the man coughed a response, "Stables...on...fire..."

Imass picked up one of the larger hammer without hesitation. As a most sacred and zealous Knight, Imass would jump into action without thinking. He was always putting himself forward to face danger. He lived for trials of combat and trials of honor.

"Come hither Q and Eachann; we must be brave and rush into danger head on. The stables are burning and we must free the horses from their cages lest they are roasted alive by the fires," the Knight yelled backwards and started to sprint towards the smoke.

The coughing man rebuked him though, "No, no, no, go get water lads. We must put out the fire before it spreads. Have prudence young ones and do not throw you life away like Ser Imass... I go to sound the horn!" The man then ran the opposite way from the Akalak.

Quincy stared wide-eyed at Eachaan, "There is no way I am following Imass."

[Eachann Marshall]

Imass directions were clear and precise, and shortly Eachann found himself garbed up and peering into the furnace, watching scrap liquify in the crucible. between the heat of the furnace and the oddly persistent smoke, the young squire found himself uncomfortable in short order. Still, Imass had given him orders, and he meant to do his best to fulfill them. It did not take long however, less than a half dozen hammer strokes in fact before Imass had discarded his work in favor of upbraiding 'Q' over the apparent state of the furnace.

But the smoke wasn't coming from the furnace.

It was shortly discovered that the nearby stables were apparently burning, as that seemed to be the source of the smoke and almost immediately a man appeared from behind a wall, his face covered with one hand. When Imass questioned him, the fellow coughed out a verification that the stables were on fire. Imass snatched a large hammer and called for his two assistants to follow him as he sped off in the direction the other man had just come from. The fellow immediately countermanded Imass orders before running off his own way. 'Q' simply stood, staring wide-eyed at Eachann.

“There is no way i'm following Imass.” He said, and in response Eachann just smiled before replying. “Then you'd better get to fetching water.” Snatching up a handy iron bar, the young squire followed Ser Imass in the last direction he ever figured to be running, towards a fire. Rounding the first (and final) corner, Eachann took in the sight of the fire, searching for Imass as he continued to run.

[Imass]

Imass arrived at the scene. The Knight on duty wasn't around and the pages at the stables where screaming and hollering; after all they were merely inexperienced lads. The stable was made out of brick, but it was full of hay, wood, and other burnable materials. For some odd reason everything that was wood was on fire. The effects of the djed storm where bizarre and disastrous.

That being said, the Akalak did not think twice about it. This was Mizahar. It was an untamed world full of powers that Imass would never understand. It was his job to do everything in his life as a mortal to pave the way of civilization; the Windoak's Civilization. Mizahar was a desolate place and Syliras could not even suffer the loss of even one horse. One less horse meant one less man fighting for the cause.

Long story short, Imass was not surprised about it.

Imass got close the entrance of the stables. The horses were screaming in terror. The flames were already licking the horses' chops. The fire was consuming the stables at an uncontrollable rate. It was only a matter of time before the valiant horses were consumed in the fires in epic tragedy.

The Knight was scared. He didn't want to die. His conviction blocked all emotions though. The Knightly ideal was to run into the face of danger. His praise and worship of Yahal and Tyveth was sacred to Imass. He would uphold his honor and beliefs until the very end.

"Have courage lad! Run into the face of danger like a true warrior! Cast reason aside and take up your fate! Knighthood is for brave men only! FREE THE HORSES!" The Akalak rumbled in a deep voice.

Imass flung himself right at the first door, slamming his hammer into the lock. Imass braced himself to get licked by flames.

[Eachann Marshall]

The self-exiled drykas did not need Ser Imass 'encouragement' when he rounded the corner and saw the stable nearly consumed in flames. The horses shrill cries of mindless terror went straight the heart of who and what he had been. Though he knew he needed to be moving, the sound held him momentarily transfixed as he was thrown against his will back into his own memories.

*~*~*~*~*

He remembered the sensation of Sirocco pounding up over the crest of the hill upon which they had rested, the sounds of the Glassbeaks pursuit thick in his ears, their heavy footfalls and the soft vocalizations as the pair coordinated their attack. Sirocco ran with everything that he had, but both of them knew that it wouldn't be enough. And even then, Eachann perceived the condemnation of his mount, which came with the surety that one of them at least was going to die. Then the flash of light off of a falling beak, and the drykas threw himself clear, selfishly choosing his own life over Sirocco's. The horse had died silently, to spent to cry out, and that silence filled his head like wool...

*~*~*~*~*

The sound of Ser Imass' hammer against the steel hasp of the paddock lock, coupled with the anguished scream of another horse hit him in the chest like one of his own javelins. What in the name of Zulrav had he been DOING just now? With a shake and a wordless cry of frustration, Eachann threw himself forward, racing pell mell into the stable, the pages of which were milling mindlessly outside.

As bad as the blaze looked from the outside, inside it was magnificently worse. Every scrap of wood was burning. The flames were bright, oranges and yellows and radiating pure heat like the very fires of Izak himself. The straw was smoldering, because the fire was already inside it, and as such it was billowing smoke thick enough to cause the Squire to cough harshly as he peered through the obscuring shroud in search of a horse stall.

Finding the first one, and heedless of the warmth already gathering in the iron bar in his hands, Eachann thrust it behind the hasp of the stall gate and tore it off with a desperate wrenching twist which left him laying flat on his back as the horse leaped his prone form easily, frantically seeking to escape the flames.

Surprisingly Eachann felt no fear in that instant, watching the belly of the gelding (and what an odd thing to notice at a time like this) as it sailed gracefully overhead. When the horses hooves disappeared from view, the regular stream of time resumed, and all the sound and fury of the burning stable redoubled. The roar of the fire was deafening, and it's hungry quest for oxygen made it hard to breathe inside even without the smoke. Hurriedly rolling to his feet Eachann groped for the next hasp, finding it by singing the skin of his fingertips, he would thrust his bar in and bust the hasp loosed, opening the gate for the unfortunate animal to seek it's freedom.

It went like that for a long time as he ran back and forth across the stable, opening paddock doors and dodging panicked horses as they escaped. But the flames were only intensifying. The heat was incredible, and the smoke suffocating. The young Drykas lost track of how many paddocks he had opened, how far he had run. But he was fading as the initial surge of adrenaline faded quickly. His legs became watery as shock began to set in, his vision blurred from tears and the hand which had been gripping the iron bar was locked around it, even as heat continued to build inside it, threatening to peel the skin from his palm and fingers as he worked. Suddenly, and without much warning at all, Eachann ran smack into the side of something living. His only response was to cough as his ass hit the floor. Which way is the door? he wondered idly, surrounded by the fog of the smoke, his eyes watery from agitation and his lungs burning (not literally) from exhaustion and smoke inhalation.

[Imass]

Imass brought his hammer down on the lock with all his might, but adversity spat back into his face. The locked failed to break and instead he just dented the device. He had on one shot left, so he raised his hammer again without thinking. Slamming it a second with didn't work.

His mind raced; He couldn't wait a single moment, for the horses were being torched alive. He felt a huge void enter his stomach. Dread and panic flooded his senses as he was submerged deep into the subconscious waters of fear and panic.

Imass clenched his teeth and prayed to Yahal, "Help me Yahal...help me be courageous."

The brawny Knight did the only thing that he could possibly do: throw his own body at the door. Tipping his head down, the warrior ran into the burning door shoulder first, using all the power and muscles in his body.

The Akalak would never give up! He had faith in bravery. He trusted Yahal would give him strength to the right thing. Imass believed that it would be his fate to survive. He had faith in this.

The already weakened wood shattered into a rain of ash, embers, and splinters. The horse screamed in bloody terror as sparks flew. The uncontrollable Knight crashed the floor on the burning embers. His naked forearm braced the fall, only to be burned severely under his large frame.

Screaming in pain, Imass felt the horse jump over him. The Knight jolted off the floor as quickly as he possibly could. The thundering hooves of frantic horses running through the fortress filled his head. He stopped screaming. The smell of burnt flesh filled his nostrils.

Adrenaline began to pump. His heart was beating at a frantic rate. Blurry eyed in pain, Imass ran out of the furnace. He would not stop though.

Running to the next stall, Imass realized that burnt arm, although in major pain, was still fully functional.

Reaching the next stall, the Knight clenched the hammer with two hands and brought it down on the lock. The relief Imass enjoyed was pain numbing. The horse immediately burst out in terror, nearly running the warrior over.

The fire was not as bad on this side. There was a dangerous pathway towards the back stalls. Imass dashed in pain. He called upon Yahals name in his head once more, "Yahal I trust in you!"

Nothing happened.

Slamming his hammer on the first lock he saw, Imass dodged another horse trying to escape to freedom. Everything was happening so fast he could not process anything. He was just acting on instinct now.

Sprinting to the next stall, Imass was totally blinded by the smoke. He could barely breathe now and he was running out of air. Before he could change action, he ran into another body. Falling to the floor, Imass gasped for air at the bottom of the room. Luckily smoke rose up, so the warrior was able to get a few breaths of oxygen.

"Eachann!" Imass yelled.

After receiving a response, he pointed at the last horse in the building, "We must free the last horse come!"

Crawling into a low run, Imass made his way through the smoke to the final stall. It was so smoky that the horse was laying on the floor gasping for air.

The Knight slammed the iron lock. The hammer shattered and a piece of metal went flying. The vibrations from the direct hit were still in his hands, as he rushed the horse.

Imass didn't know what to do about the dying horse; he was at a total loss.

So he turned to Eachann, "What should we do?"

They had a maximum of one more minute before the structure collapsed. The Knight hoped that his faith in Yahal would pay off. Perhaps the boy raised by horses would know what to do.

"Give him guidance." Imass prayed in his mind subconsciously. Eachann's fate was now to be tested.

[Eachann Marshall]

The realization that had run, completely fortuitously into Ser Imass was a welcome one. By and large, the horses had all been freed. The knight pointed out the final animal in peril and called for the squire to follow him, wordlessly, gasping for fresh air beneath the smoke, Eachann did as he was bid. When the hulking knight hammered the lock it and the hammer both burst, spraying shards of steel in several directions. When they entered the stall, it was not to a sight either man wanted to see or would likely forget.

The horse lay on it's side, two of it's legs broken and smoldering from a burning spar which had fallen out of the ceiling. The animal was clearly in shock. The exiled drykas recognized immediately what was needed, that did not mean that he was in any way prepared to do it.

"Ser," he said, his voice thick as tears stung his eyes. "The animal will not recover. We must.." His voice halted as he swallowed a cry "we must put it down to be humane. Tell me Ser, do you have a knife?" Kneeling beside the injured horse's neck, his fingers stroking it in an effort to impart some comfort in what would be the creatures final minutes. When Imass did not offer a blade, Eachann lifted his eyes from the suffering horse to the pommel of Ser Imass Lakan.

"You're knife Ser!" Eachann demanded, unthinking of the discrepancy of their rank, only aware of the horses suffering. Still the Knight did not proffer his weapon, and heedless of the motivation, the tears in Eachann's eyes turned to anger sharpened by pain. Suddenly he forced the horses chin up and glared defiantly at the towering Knight.

"For Zulrav's sake man STRIKE!"

Time was running out.