Plinth

Part 13: Plinth

    The trail that Michael looked dejectedly down upon was barely discernable from the surrounding terrain. The land, not of the highest quality even in the town of Roshin, had gone from worse to uninhabitable.
    "Dabiri said that there was a town here?" he wondered aloud.
    "Father Dabiri" Eve snapped back, "said that the town of Plinth was the last town before one entered the realm of the Daemons."
    "Realm of the Daemons, eh? Sounds like fun." Michael muttered, not intending for Eve to hear. Luckily, she hadn't. She had become more and more irritable since they had departed Roshin - ever since Michael exorcised the demon from the child.... It was as though she were looking for some sort of reward for leading Michael to the accursed thing. No, that wasn't quite it. Michael continued thinking silently.
    It was Eve who first spotted the town. Drab gray, much like the ground they now walked, it hid seamlessly in the background. The two were almost upon it when Eve cried out.
    "Michael, it's Plinth!" she said, stopping short. Michael stopped as well, though he didn't see the town until a few moments later. There was an absolute lack of motion - if there were any inhabitants of this town, Michael didn't see them. They had finally reached their destination, and it had turned out to be a ghost town.
    "Now what?" Eve said, walking down the one and only street of the destitute village. Michael found himself thinking the same thing. Now what indeed? Dabiri had directed him this far, but how was he supposed to know where to head to next? The nearest landmarks of any import seemed the mountain range further to the south. He supposed that they would go there, after resupplying here - if there were any supplies here to begin with.
    Looking around at the shabby buildings, he wondered how long the town had been deserted. The construction looked as though it had been thrown together without the slightest thought as to its durability or long-term use. The people of Plinth had not been gone long, else their buildings would have fallen down. So what had happened here, and when?
    Michael realized that his sword was burning against his side. Too late, he drew it.
    "I would not move if I were you." a voice, emanating from a small man standing in the middle of the road, commanded. Michael dared a few glances around, but could spot Eve nowhere. Hopefully, she had managed safety.
    "Who are you?" Michael countered, keeping his hands on the sword. The magic of the sword pulsed in his hands, though faintly.
    The man smiled slightly. "I am but a servant of a greater power. I have been named..." he seemed to pause to think. "Donovan. Now, sir Morhaime, you will kindly lay down your sword, or I shall be forced to immobilize you." Donovan waved a decorative wand threateningly.
    Michael took a step forward, preparing to strike down this minion. He had no time for this, Eve could be in danger. Donovan registered genuine surprise, and waved his wand toward Michael, incanting something that he couldn't understand.
    Michael was literally knocked back as his sword pulsed with sudden energy. For a split second, he felt the omnipotence locked within the sword, and then he was just himself again.
    "I will..." Michael paused, trying to catch his breath. "do no such thing. You may tell Stinnett that he will have to find some other way to stop me."
    Donovan seemed too surprised by the failure of his weapon to reply at first. Then, he spoke once more. "I know not of this 'Stinnett' that you speak. I serve the Great Old One, who waits below and will one day rise again. He has commanded me to allow you to go no further." Donovan again brandished the wand.
    Michael was knocked back again, this time with more force. He struggled, trying to gain control of the raw power of the sword. Whatever the effects of the wand, the sword was protecting him against, but the sword itself was draining him of the strength he needed to win this fight.
    Donovan made some frantic signal. Too late, Michael realized that he was not alone on this street. The crossbow bolt struck him in the arm. Before he could finish his desparate attack on Donovan, he had passed out.

    Father Dabiri stood next to Regent Calavan, the current ruler of Eltai. Together, they stood face to face with the enemy itself. Or, at least, the person they were supposed to believe was the enemy.
    Thavirat was a short, stocky man whose expression always seemed pained. He seemed nervous to be in the company of these two, even with his personal bodyguards so close. Dabiri and Calavan had come with no bodyguards, a fact that had not been lost on Thavirat. They must have powerful magic indeed....
    "Thavirat," Calavan was talking again. It seemed that he had been holding up most of the conversation, with Dabiri quietly sitting in the background, commenting only occasionally. "what are you doing here with your armies? Eltai has nothing to do with your kingdom. Even the Ethanac Garrison is far from this place. So why do you come here?"
    "I come," Thavirat began, with the air of someone reciting lines that he has memorized again and again "to reclaim an ancient treasure that belongs to my people. The shrine, that Father Dabiri kept until recently, housed a coffin. That coffin was, long ago, stolen from my people." he paused, ignoring Dabiri's gaze. "I have with me, a scroll written by Lord Gellen himself, authorizing the capture of those who had stolen the coffin, and the retrieval of its contents." Thavirat carefully handed the aged piece of parchment over to Calavan, who gave it a cursory glance before handing it to Dabiri.
    "So you are claiming," Calavan began, "that Dabiri's people, long ago, stole the shrine that you consider yours. And that Lord Gellen, king of all these lands so long ago, wrote this paper telling you to go get it? That is simply preposterous! Thavirat, have you no memory? Have you no historians? It is well known, throughout these kingdoms, that Dabiri's men have guarded that shrine and worshipped it since long before Gellen's time. What madness is this?"
    "This is a forgery." Dabiri said simply, handing the aged scroll back to Thavirat.
    Thavirat glared at the both of them. "I see that you do not agree with my position. Therefore, I have no choice but to lay siege to your city. My army has standing orders to go about, and begin the burning of all towns within the Eltai kingdom unless I tell them otherwise. Gentlemen, you have until sunset today to return the coffin, and its contents, to me. After that, you may consider our nations to be at war."

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