Untitled by Rich L.

(2 ratings) Rate this Story (5 best) 1 2 3 4 5   1 comments /

Delvin felt this to be a strong possibility. If an Event Messenger were to ever be heading toward Olstak, how would anyone know if he didn't make it? This was one of the reasons Delvin was so isolated from the rest of Gildor. He had never even tried to locate the trails that lead through the mountains and into Agroban or Tashir, which according to the world maps Delvin had seen, lay on the other side of the Mountains of Despair.
It wasn't always the same messenger that came, but always the same trumpet tune to announce their arrival. They made their living from coins that the Ale house's collected by taxing the ale hence their reports were given straight to the Ale house and then spread through the town by word of mouth.
Only once before had Delvin actually been at the Ale house when a messenger had arrived to Victus. It's considered to be quite a treat to be their when the messenger delivers news due to the gap of time in between each visit which sometimes could be many months and even years. The bad luck of it was the one time Delvin was lucky enough to witness the arrival of a messenger, the news had been very bland. Just a few political tidbits and nothing of consequence. Now, however, Delvin had high hopes of more exciting news with all the rumblings of the odd attacks in the East Hills.
The door to the Ale house opened and a stout young man appeared. He was wearing the standard Event Messenger's hat which was triangular shaped and a dim green color. Under the hat he had bushy brown hair. He struck Delvin to be a bit on the young side to hold such an important job. It made Delvin jealous to know that the boy had seen twenty times more of Gildor than he.
Every person in the Inn was now piled into the Ale House with their eyes locked on the boy. It was quiet enough to hear a sewing needle hit the floor. Delvin was absolutely boiling with anticipation.
"Citizens of Olstak," he yelled loud enough for the whole room to hear. "I come bearing news of events that I have gathered from the capital of Estes." He pulled out a scroll sticking out from his back pocket and began to untie the ribbon.
"Spit it out boy," yelled a gruff drunken man seated by the bar.
The messenger completely ignored this interruption in the proceedings and continued to unravel the scroll.
"The battles in the East Hills have gotten to a more severe level. More than one battalion of knights have been dispatched to aid the town's armies upon the request of messengers sent to the Legion headquarters. Lord Samuel Pestro, esteemed leader of the Knighthood, personally saw and heard the messenger's pleas. The Legion has been secretive as to the adversary's involved in the attacks and Lord Pestro has held no public audience. Some say they may be remains from the Colden army of the Celyug race trying to exact revenge from their defeat ten years ago in the war for the Sword of the Champion.
"None from the battalions of knight's sent have returned and no word on their exact whereabouts.