The magic servitor created a hand, pointing into a corner where one of the guests was sitting. “That is where we will speak,” it said. Hermon hesitated to take orders from a being so strange. “All right,” he said gruffly, following the creature’s hand signal. The chairs creaked and turned as he walked past.
When he arrived, the being bowed to the person in the corner. “This is the son of the Berserker King. He seeks allies to break the cycle of balance and chaos,” it introduced softly. It then turned to Hermon.
“Hermon, this is D’rmas, warrior of Qeltifom.” Hermon didn’t know quite how to act so he nodded briefly. D’rmas nodded back. D’rmas was a tall bald man with an overgrown beard. The golden ring that looped through his nostrils glittered when light hit it.
He waved his hood away and looked Hermon in the face. “Sit down.” The warriors of Qeltifom had a special quirk about them. They were not bound to just one class of power but could use two. They mastered the magic arts but also the sword. They were incredibly valuable as allies but also unpredictable. You never really know if they will use you for their own purpose. They lived solely by reputation. Once they campaigned for a cause, they would fight to the last breath to end it, and they were quick. They were said to be as fast as the warriors of this City of the Middle Kingdom, who were incredibly fast.
“Tell me about your journey, Hermon,” the stranger started the conversation, his eyes dark as night. His hands and ears were a little longer than usual, making him look gangly.
“We seek assistance in the fight against the house of the King. Every 100 years, a warrior-princess, for the good of the world, is sacrificed to the gods, Camin and Lowus. These sacrifices are to maintain the balance of this world. Otherwise, there will be chaos once again! Her sacrifice would give more power to the warriors to keep the creeping evil in the heart of creation at bay. She is chaos alive, and balance at death, or that is how it was supposed to be. But Eldana, the current princess to be sacrificed, resists because she has found a way to maintain the balance permanently. This would mean that there need never again be any concern about chaos.” Hermon paused to see if his opponent was taken by his story or had already lost concentration. He couldn’t interpret the look.
“Why are you involved?” D’rmas asked. “You are a man with a strength that many not dare to dream about. You are of royal blood and could live a life as a king. Instead, you are helping a leper who has no idea what she is getting herself into.”
What D’rmas said was true. But not for Hermon. There were many reasons why he was trying to help her. Eldana had been the first to treat him without fear. All others saw only the king’s son in him. Perhaps, Hermon considered, he trusted her because he saw in the princess a kindred soul. She was a princess after all, and faced the same control and expectations as he had. Indeed, Eldana would have continued to be a princess if the mark of chaos had not been discovered on her body, and she was thrust into a life that she had never asked for. Then there was the fact that she was a warrior too; Eldana and Hermon had spilt blood on the same battlefields. There was a kinship in strife that no other who had not endured such hardship could understand. But in the end, even after all of those reasons, Hermon looked up and just said, “Because she needs help.”
D’rmas now leaned back in his creaking chair. “So, you want me to help you because she needs help? Is that all?” The older warrior looked at Hermon scornfully.
“You have no reason why I should help, do you? You think I should help because it’s the right thing to do? What do you take me for? Do you think I got all my skills for nothing?” asked D’rmas.
Hermon nodded, controlling his temper. Warriors of the free Guild were supposed to be noble, to step in when the balance of nature was threatened. “I figured…”
“So you haven’t thought for a second about what I want for my services?” D’rmas insisted.
Hermon could feel his anger starting to rise. Who was this guy that would allow an innocent woman to be slaughtered? There was more at stake here than just Eldana, though. Hermon couldn’t let his feelings get in the way, but his inner Berserker was starting to break free, and blood spilled from his finger, which he tried to hide, but it too late. He couldn’t get too angry!
D’rmas watched all this, bemused, before he stood up. “Well, I think I should go.”
Hermon looked stunned. “Why are you leaving now? Is that it?” He glared at the creature that had brought him to D’rmas. It created shoulders that it used to shrug. It had no idea what was going on.
“Offer me something I can’t refuse,” D’rmas created a little ball of fire. “How about a little fight?”
Hermon thought he heard wrong. “What do you mean? You want to fight me? Are you crazy?” D’rmas lauged, giving Hermon a challenging look.
“Berserker son, you have come to enlist me. You bring nothing but your dignity and the duty to do right. Why should I care?”
Hermon could only look puzzled. No one had ever fought him just for ‘fun’. Usually, others always ran from Hermon. They don’t stop. They shook with fear! The power of the Berserkers was known throughout the land. Unless they had the same power themselves, there was hardly anyone who would go to that trouble willingly.
“You would go down in history as D’rmas
