Chapter 5: CH 4 “Valley of Wonders”

" In the 1213 year of the Human Era, In a period of history known as the Marauding Decades were the Nordligs from Argent-Berg and its locality started to plunder, pillaging and marauding across the coast of Edor going as far to arrive at Marinya and successfully sieging and sacking the mercantile city. King of Catalina in a desperate attempt to stop the Nordlings, he offered the great Sealord of a mayor tribe, Yorgenson the One-Eye, the city of Eliza at the southern tip of Edor tucked in the Turquoise Bay was offered as a tribute to Yorgenson under one condition, keeping all the rest of the Nordlings from pillaging Catalina. Yorgenson agreed to the offer and as a man of honour, he kept the pillagers from the shores of Catalina, later when more immigrants from the north came to join the great Sealord, Yorgenson renamed Eliza to Yorg-Berg meaning The port of Yorg. Of course, if the King did something to irritate the Sealord he would conveniently let a pillaging party of his allies to be able to slip past and plunder. 

Now don't be fooled by the Nordlings brash nature and eagerness to shed blood, they are shrewd as a fox in their craft but instead of politics or trade their craft is mercenary contracts and waging war.

After a century after the pact was made Yorg-Berg gained the title of the principality and the nordlings adopted a few of the customs of their subjects but even after so long they still cling to their barbaric traditions."

                                                                                                              -Exert from History of Niuran by Professor Potr of Grand University of Oriripol

 

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  Iris was led to the main hall of the temporary headquarters of Theocracy. After passing through the threshold of the bulky doors, she instantly noticed a figure that robbed attention with its posture. The figure was Utrecht his body was leaning on the pillar that was holding up the ceiling. Utrecht sensing her and Valentine's approach pushed off the pillar straightening his towering posture, which earned one of his many nicknames "The Behemot". Utrecht looked down at the pair and nodded when Valentine stopped, bowed and returned back, after ensuring that Iris arrived at her destination. Utrecht motioned to her using his enormous hand the size of her head, to be followed. Iris knew a few things about him, she knew that he was not a fan of talking and was more about action rather than words, he also was the "friendliest" of the four but that was not hard to achieve compere to the treatment she usually was given. He treated her neutrally and rarely interacted with her, maybe it was his culture which was not advanced in magical arts but rather beliving in their gods so the stigma around her Talent was not present.

 

Utrecht made his way to the first floor which still looked like it was partially under construction, having to bend his back to enter the small room and turned to look back at her.

 

"In the shelves, there is your equipment and here is your work to do." his thunderous voice bummed throughout the room, he was pointing his finger at the back of the room where a small bed and a crudely made shelves were located. 

 

  Iris bowed to Utrecht, a habit she picked on in her long years of captivity and went over to inspect the shelves. She found a stack of paper pages bonded by string and a set of leather armour. Iris flipped through the pages and found them filled with what at a glance was a Cyclopian script and more bizarrely, translations underneath each paragraph with the addition of many blank pages. She guessed that Brad or Alicia wanted her to check if Oriripol mages were not hiding any valuable information from Theocracy. When she was about to finish transcribing her translations of the script finding no major deviancy from her own, she heard knocking sounds on her door but before she could answer Brad stormed into the room.

 

"What are you doing," Brad told her with urgency in his voice.

 

"I was translating as Master Utrecht instructed me to do." Iris tried to use Utrecht as a shield to maybe prevent a beating if Utrecht made a mistake and assigned her the wrong job.

 

"Did you finish?" Brad said and after receiving a small nod from Iris he took the notes with him and went back leaving the doors open.

 

  Iris not really knowing what to do know now just sat on her bed not thinking about anything.

 

"You stupid fucking bitch, I told you to come with me did in I?!" roared Brad stomping towards her.

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"N-no You..." Iris's words escape her lips before caching herself but Brad heard her reply.

 

"You dare to object to ME! I am the fucking Hero you slave bitch, I will fucking teach you a lesson" shouted Brad while yanking her black hair throwing her on the ground and kicking her in the ribs couple of times.

 

"You better be downstairs in 5 minutes or you will see how merciful I was," Brad said with a much quieter voice but with a dangerous edge to it.

 

  Iris's eyes wept out of the pain of receiving a kicking from level 188 but she had to stand up and do as Brad told her. She did not want to die or worse to be done to her. Iris clutching the spot that Brad had kicked with one hand, she stood up and limped downstairs. She was told by Dian that the crusade is advancing forward and that they are leaving.

 

 

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 Iris was riding on a wagon still feeling the pain pulsating from her ribcage. They were advancing on an ancient, decrepit road from ages gone by. She was at the rear of the column along with the backline fighters and people needed for the journey but not useful in combat.

 

  Hours pass by with little to do between an odd runner asking to interpret a Cyclopean tablet or a passage, in that lul in any activity she observed her surroundings. The terrain was mountainous with scarce vegetation and an ever-thickening mist slowly dispersing the higher they eventually the crusading forces have stopped when they reached what appeared to be a ridgeline where the terrain slowly descended. The forces of each individual country set up their separate camps. The camps Iris pondered somehow manage to reflect all-be-it on a small scale, each state's unique culture. The Oriripol forces set up camp using magic and making enlisted soldiers do all the dirty work while the two ruling classes rested, the Yorg-Berg tents were set up in circles with a roaring fireplace in the centre allowing banter and partying to take place, and forces from Firmusa alone isolated kingdom far up north first set up a basic wall going around their side of the camp, just in case. Such a pattern showed itself to a lesser degree on the rest of the forces but was still visible if one looked close enough. On the third day of their journey when they were about to repeat the task of setting up their tents, scouts reported an enormous lake surrounded by mountains with visible ruins on one of the flat areas that they often encountered during their escapade. Some 6 kilometres away, just below the horizon.

 

  The next day the human forces marched with enthusiasm and vigour towards the ruins that were scouted yesterday, many hoping of becoming rich from the treasures they would find. After about three hours of marching, the expedition members could bask in a tranquil and majestic sight. A great lake of azure blue stretched towards the west, reflecting rays of sunlight creating a beautiful and breathtaking sight. While most people stopped and admired the view, few of the more observant people noticed that right in front of them, on the other side of the lake a ruined city existed hidden under the shadow of the great mountain. The crusade commanders order the column to stop, regroup and create a plan of action. Iris was brought closer to the front of the column where she would stay until their arrival in the city. While they resumed their unrelenting march forward, Iris could get a glance at the action at the front that happened occasionally. Of what Iris could put together from chatting footmen and some shouting further up the column in the front, the undead grew in their numbers but never approaching the sheer size of the [Mist Revenants] that they encountered beside their outpost but the overall level of the undead mostly comprised of [Skeletons] [Wraights] and [Withers] slowly increase from about level 25 to levels of 36 to sometimes levels as high as 48. Iris watched as the number of people gathering copses both fresh and old to the side of the road to be cremated increased.  

 

  Once the crusaders entered the ruined city and cleared most of it from the undead, Iris was once again escorted to be brought forward and while she was escorted to her destination she scanned the derelict buildings. Even as a ruin and no longer in any state of maintenance the solitary and bare wall still radiated the magnificence of their age. The door frames themselves were six to seven meters high and the elaborate engravings on the still-standing frames were visible if one looked closely. Iris arrived at what looked like a plaza that was in a need of maintenance with weeds growing knee-high in between the cracked stones of the pavement. On the plaza were multiple humans that were directing their eyes onto a wonder. Iris looked upon a structure that even in its current state demanded respect. Chiselled into the mountainside was a great doorway with a grandiose roof held by great statues. On each side of the massive doorway was a set of walls with depictions of stories and myths still clearly visible on the ancient structures. The columns holding the triangular roof were made into the likeness of a human-like appearance with one central eye on their face supporting the roof with their extended hands while at the bottom of the columns were depictions of multiple figures of many races bowing their head so far that the forehead touched the ground. Iris walked slowly past a gathering of humans which in turn seeing such an act followed towards the standing wonder of architecture and art. Iris went past the venerable statues and upon climbing the set of wide stairs she gazed at the grand door. On the edges of the door, the entire host of one eye beings was prostrating them selfs toward a figure in the centre, a figure with the left half composed of bones and the right half still possessing flesh, both of the figure's eyes were replaced by jewels ghostly blue on the left and golden yellow on the right with a jewel of dark purple embedded in its sternum radiating a soft glow. Behind the figure was a comet with two long tails trailing behind.