The Supreme Warrior *2014 ABNA Contest 2nd Round*

CHAPTER 18.1: Kaflaen's Banquet

Confusion ruled the City. The sky glowed as watch stations burned all across Selinger, while desperate horn calls rang through the air. Squads of City Watchmen hurried about directionless, unsure where they should rally in order to quell the unrest. They were not, however, uncertain for long. The Temple bell, ringing in the night, brought the citizens out of their beds and into the streets. The scattered City Watch tried to force residents indoors. The attempt turned the crowd into a mob.

The scattered City Watch tried to force residents indoors. The attempt turned the crowd into a mob.Within the Prince’s Palace, twelve picked Warrior-priests heard the Temple bell. They broke out of the secret compartments built into the floor of the Miller’s wagons, and donned the battle gear that had been stored in the beds. They charged through the passages of the Palace towards the Great Hall. At their head ran Keeper Uriel, killing all who stepped into his path.

Meanwhile, Seneschal Marcaner hauled open the main gate. The priests of Maht-Hildis poured into the Palace.

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Prince Keldrin imperiously gestured for silence when he heard a strange rumble from outside; but the Prince was too late. At that moment, the heavy double doors to the Great Hall broke open. A horde of gray-robed priests crashed into the Hall.

Their attack was savage.

Chairs overturned as diners jumped to their feet. Courtiers milled like gilded ants. Meanwhile, many revelers near the entrance made a mad rush for the door. The stampede stopped when the priests cut down the first wave in a red blizzard of merciless swordplay. A few knights picked up chairs and smashed them onto the long trestle tables, desperate for a weapon. The surge of bleating people prevented the few armed men in the Hall from joining together. The priests hacked them down one at a time.

The panic burned out. Crumpled bodies lay strewn across the floor. The banquet guests realized they could do nothing against these heavily armed attackers. The priests quickly perceived their enemies’ broken spirit, and harshly commanded them to their seats. The gray-robed warriors waved bloody swords at any who hesitated to obey.

As sanity returned, a few turned their heads toward the High Table. Their shocked gasps drew the eyes of all the rest. The Prince—and seven of the Eight Barons of the Dryhtern—slumped over in their chairs, their bodies contorted by horrible spasms. Prince Keldrin attempted to rise, but his disloyal limbs shook and his neck wilted like a thirsty flower.

Keldrin fell heavily upon the table, impaling his chest on a trencher of lamb. The poison, of course, had seeped from the glaze lining his gold leaf wine cup.

At the High Table, only Lord Kumíru still sat upright in his chair.

From the very center of the Great Hall, Uriel extended his long arm toward the dais. After treating the slumped Lords with a look of disgust, he loudly proclaimed, “Grieve not for these greedy men. Instead, rejoice that Maht-Hildis has saved you from their evil deeds.”

Angry mutters spread through the hall.

“Do you doubt me? Then I shall show you their servant!”

At the Keeper’s expansive gesture, two priests walked through the broken doors carrying Bodelic. They flung the trussed dwarf face-first on the floor, his chin giving a meaty “thunk" as it struck stone. The grumbles stopped.

“Look what your Lords have brought you! On this day in which we celebrate the bounty from the Gods, they dare sow a dwarf into our Land. Today, they have reaped the harvest of greed and avarice.”