Armageddon Series

Whitesteel Peaks - Chapter 1: Seeking & Sojourn

November 29, 2023 Terry Tibke Season 2 Episode 1
Armageddon Series
Whitesteel Peaks - Chapter 1: Seeking & Sojourn
Show Notes Transcript

Turim and Lala arrive at Turim’s childhood home, and the Dark Elf Raiders have a new enemy.

Armageddon TM and its characters and story are copyright Terry Tibke. All rights reserved. All music and effects are listed here.

Jake Utter [Voice Actor] - Voices Turim Gliderlance

Maia Harlap [Voice Actor] – Voices Lala Truffleroot

Aaron Anderson [Voice Actor] – Voices Dark Knights

Big Boy Buff Boy [Voice Actor] – Voices Dark Knights

Kimerakii [Voice Actor] – Voices Thalissa Gliderlance

Support the Show.

Chapter 1 – Seeking and Sojourn


Lala Truffleroot watched a small figure come out from a little, lonely house that sat under a tree so mighty-big, she’d never seen anything like it.

The grasses around them stood high enough to brush even her toes, cinched-up in stirrups as they were.

Turim smiled beside her. His long legs were all but hidden in this part of the Westersirk. He gently clicked his teeth and his horse stirred. “Come on, Miss Truffleroot. It seems she’s already had tidings of our coming.”

How? Lala wondered privately, but still she took in the peaceful sway around them.

Turim had been mostly quiet for the last few days, caught up in his own thoughts. Now though, she could see the sparkle in his eyes—happiness to be home. She smiled.

Turim had brought her to the farm so she could find a new place to live, but she figured he needed it too, after everything they’d gone through. Especially what he’d gone through.

‘I’m ready for this.’ She told herself privately. ‘Moving on. Moving ahead.’ She kicked her furry feet against her pony’s sides and followed Turim down the hillock.

Now closer, Lala finally saw the figure clearly. To Lala, Thalissa Gliderlance looked like a poem felt. Her hair was long and golden, blowing gently in the cold breeze. Her eyes were a bright, twinkling blue, and seemed to hold a certain wisdom, like reading a great volume written by ancient scholars. Yet they were kind too, as sweet as a child who’d never grow old. She was fair and beautiful, and it wasn’t the last time Lala caught herself staring.

As for the house itself, it was covered in shingles shaped like slender brown leaves. A porch with an awning dutifully sat out front, held aloft by carved supports which seemed to be of skilled elven make. Some ways beyond the house stood a barn, unpainted, but built with white wood, maybe birch or elm. And towering above all, with a trunk that grew from somewhere behind the house, was the tree, standing like the sentinel of the farm. On its branches remained the rusty growth from all that year.

Even as Lala watched, its leaves fell gently through the breeze, rolling over and over to disappear beyond the brown shingled home.

“Wow,” she whispered, without realizing she had.

Turim gave a quick, “Ho!” and their steeds sidled up in front of the little house and came to a stop.

Thalissa glided towards them across the grass like lake borne mist.

Getting her foot free of the stirrup, Lala turned toward her, but watched as two sleek hounds came from around the corner of the house, ambling up to them like old friends.

“Well, eh, hello there.” Lala smiled, not ready to pet them just yet.

The hounds came to the horses and circled for a moment, then stopped and sniffed at them a few more. After that, as if they’d come to some sort of agreement, the hounds started back towards the stables. But to Lala’s surprise, behind them followed the horse and the pony.

She watched with fondness and wonder—maybe even a little afraid for a moment. The animals disappeared into the barn with only a feint whinny of approval and light clomp of hooves.

“There are many animals on our farm,” said Thalissa, answering Lala’s unspoken question. “Most are kind enough to help me with all the work that’s to be done here each day. Athuril and Geldis, the hounds, are two of these kind creatures. We speak often. They tell me much of what goes on out upon the far reaches of the plains, for oft they wander when their work permits them.”

Lala looked to Turim. His eyes were already on Lala while Thalissa spoke. He smiled under his brown moustache. Whatever Lala had expected, Turim hadn’t made any attempt to warn her about this.

“Land sakes!” she looked up at him. “Is this by magic or some miracles then? Is your mother a caller?”

“No,” Turim grinned. “But she speaks many languages. The tongues of the beasts aren’t as foreign to her lips as they are to most folk these days. She’s lived a long time. She knows all sorts of unseen things.” Thalissa eyed her son with a look that Lala couldn’t place yet. Quickly then, Turim added, “And she knows something of the seen as well.” He teased his mother.

As he did, it reminded Lala of a child who thought they knew more than their parent. She tried to keep her face stiff. ‘Funny to see the great Wing Commander Turim Gliderlance like this,’ she thought.

“Oh my son,” Thalissa embraced Turim. “It’s so good to see you. Though I have to say, you seem different somehow.” She leaned back, glancing between both Turim and Lala. “But come now, we shan’t stand here. Your ride must’ve left you somewhat spent, Ms. Truffleroot.”

“Oh no ma’am,” replied Lala, glad to move on quickly from the eye Thalissa had given the two of them. “We took a good whiles to ride here. There wasn’t a need to hurry much. I quite enjoyed it—for the most part. Still, I have to admit, the bum’s sore.” Lala rubbed her backside tenderly for a moment, then thought better of her manners.

Thalissa gently laughed. “Come, perhaps we might find remedy for such ailments. I’ve prepared a meal. I do hope it’s to your liking, Miss Truffleroot.”

“Of course!” Lala licked her lips. “As my folk say ‘A meal in waiting is a meal in need, and a meal in need is a meal indeed!’” She already liked Turim’s mum.

Inside, Lala hadn’t been sure of what to expect. Whether it would be as a queen’s abode: both luxurious and beautiful to behold, or a home to a simple farmer’s widow: plain, yet comfortable and warm.

A small black stove stood in a corner. Inside of it a fire burned, giving off the warmth she’d expected. One of the two front windows shone through upon it, casting a pale blue light across the room. It made her wish she could lie down and take a nap. Lit by lamplight from within, a quaint and pleasant kitchen was at the back, and to the left of it, a stairway went up to a second story.

 “This is so perfect!” Lala stood for several moments in the same spot, unwilling to move just yet. “Oh Lady Gliderlance, your home is wonderful! It reminds me so much of halfling folks’. Still, there’s something else. Something almost, well—magical about it, if you take my meaning.”

Thalissa’s mouth curved as she continued into the kitchen. “I am glad you like it,” she called over her shoulder, “though I’m not sure it is all that.”

“Oh it is.” Lala slowly took the three steps down into the sitting room. She could smell the warm food coming from the kitchen. “It is. And I make no exaggeration.” She felt herself taking it all in.

She could tell Thalissa was pleased at her words. Turim, too, looked happy, both hands on a chair back.

In a moment, Thalissa returned with two large plates in her hands, piled with various baked goods and breads, as well as fruits such as appazas, cherries, and pinkmelon.

“Forgive my manners!” Lala hurried back up the three stairs, bare feet padding against the floor. “I don’t mean to let you carry this all yourself. Let me help you with something at least.” She turned around and dropped her bag against the edge of the stairway. “Here,” she said, as she nimbly grasped one of the dishes in Thalissa’s hand and slid it onto the table, right to the very center, just as her own ma had taught her.

“Well.” Turim cocked his head. “That’s a fine trick.”

Thalissa smiled at Lala and the two of them continued to bring out various plates and dishes until the table was set. Then they sat down in the wooden chairs around it. As they did, a furry little streak of an animal came scurrying down the steps and went right to Lala’s bag. For a moment, she feared it was looking for food.

“If you don’t mind,” said Thalissa, “our ferret, Barod, will help you with your things.”

Barod squeaked with affirmation as he grasped the shoulder strap of Lala’s bag and tugged it toward the stairs. Lala watched a moment as he struggled the rest of the way up with the bag in tow. Then he disappeared around a corner as though he’d not been there at all.

“Um.” Lala hesitated. “No, I don’t mind. But bless me, there are so many amazing creatures here!”

When the food was set and they’d begun to eat, Lala praised the various dishes with halfling courtesy, the likes of which Thalissa said she’d never seen, but seemed to find very charming. All the while, Turim and Lala told various tales of the many perilous and wondrous events that had taken place since the end of fall.

Soon, two geese came waddling out from the kitchen. In their beaks they carried small and elegant kettles of hot tea. They appeared of elven make, black steel, but adorned with twisting and spiraling vines and leaves.

Thalissa bent and lifted the two kettles from them. “Thank you my friends. Lala, these are Gwye and Elwyn.”

Lala looked at them slightly amazed, but by now she’d began to grow accustomed to the appearance of helpful animals, many of which she was not going to remember their names. She patted one of the white geese’s heads. “Pleased to meet you!”

They both gave squawks of happiness and then pattered back into the kitchen.

Laewen,” said Turim after the geese had gone. “I trust you received the communication Daynard sent you?”
Turim’s voice had gone knightly again. Lala wasn’t sure what message Turim was talking about, but his mother seemed to catch on right away. She also guessed that ‘
laewen’ must mean ‘mother’, or some sort of term of endearment like it.

“When the hawk came to me with the message that the Dragon Army was invading,” said Thalissa, “I was fearful. Some for myself, but mostly for you, my son. As quick as I could though, I gathered my things and made my way to Solénol to rejoin with your uncles, grandsire, and grandmother.”

Solénol?” Lala tested the word.

Thalissa looked at her with an understanding smile. “The forest that lay north of here. You traveled through it on your way. In the common tongue it is called the Lockwood Forest. In it lies Lockwood City, home to many fair and noble elven folk—the city of my birth. From there, and of the villages about it, came nearly all of the elves you saw at Grendelock Keep. Solénol is the elven name for that place.” She returned her gaze to Turim, resuming her story while Lala considered that. “But I sent Athuril and Geldis out to gather tidings while I was there. So also went many of the sparrows. After the animals returned and brought us news of the size of the enemy’s forces, I worried how the Knights of the Hawk might fare.”

Thalissa paused for a moment, poured tea into her cup, and passed the kettle across the table to Turim. Turim poured a cup first for Lala, then himself.

“We also feared our chances.” Turim looked up again from his steaming cup. “But our greater fear lay in Tusokan, where there were many companies sent by sea. There lay a great weakness, if not for the allies we gained in the Masters of the Black Talon ninja clan.”

“Yes,” said Thalissa, “I had heard of that movement as well. The very plains spoke of the Dark Knights’ iron shod marches. I trust they were diverted then. But a great question should now lie upon your mind. Where have the remaining companies gone?”

Lala looked to Turim, hoping that perhaps he would know what to say. She hadn’t thought about it herself. In fact, she’d tried not to think about all the fighting and war going on. About the horrible dragons and the dragonite slavers that had captured them. Turim, on the other hand, had probably been considering it a lot during their ride. She’d only known him a few months now, but his focus always returned to his duty. What was surprising was that Thalissa knew so much about the events of the battle.

“Most of their forces went east when they fled Grendelock Keep,” answered Turim carefully. “I’d also guess the Dragon Army forces driven from Tusokan will go there. They still probably thought that an outpost in Pebak ‘Din was held by the Black Division at Karagard Keep. I don’t know that they’d have been wrong. But if Master Shadowstar was correct, their numbers are now too few to make any strong fight against us from there.”

“This is good.” Thalissa sipped her tea and sat back in her chair.

“I’m sure Grandmaster Strongthorn knows more by now though.”

Looking upon the two, Lala saw a reflection of careful thought between them. So like was Turim’s face to that of his mother’s at that moment, that Lala could scarcely find any remnant of human in him.

But she’d quickly grown uncomfortable talking about the battle and about the war. She finished her last sip of tea and asked a new question. “Ma’am. Why do you choose to live here instead of in the city of Lockwood with your kin?”

Thalissa set her spoon down gently at the side of her soup bowl. “Turim’s father, Rorin and I built this place together after we were married. When that happened, I left my brothers, father, and mother in Solénol and came here to live. When Rorin died, my family wanted very much that I return to live with them once again. But I couldn’t leave all the loving memories behind to rot and decay. So Turim and I stayed.”

This all reminded Lala of her parents. She missed the way her father used to talk about moving to a new homestead on the Ivory Plains. “I’m sorry,” she mumbled, feeling stupid at asking. “I didn’t mean to stir any memories you didn’t want… eh, stirred.”

“Think naught of it.” Thalissa smiled, though it was a sad smile. “As you can see though, I don’t intend to leave this house. Even after word came to us of the defeat of the Black Division, I was already eager to get back. In truth, I only stayed a week in Solénol before I returned here to the farm.”

“Might I see more of it later?” asked Lala, glad to be changing the subject again.

Thalissa put a warm hand on hers. “Certainly. There will be plenty of time for that tomorrow. Now the sun sets though, and it grows very cold outside. I even sense the weather shall soon change again.”

“I feel it too.” Turim slid his chair back and stood. “I’m sure you know, there’s not much going on this time of year anyway.”

“That I do,” replied Lala. “That I do. Though the fowls might say otherwise, I’d guess. Shard’s chill don’t stop a mama hen from layin’ eggs.”

Turim and Thalissa laughed, and Lala was happy to share a time of peace and happiness with them.

They talked and chatted into the night. At some point Lala knew she’d fallen asleep with her head on her chest. But when she’d woke again, she was lying in a bed. ‘Turim must’ve carried me up and tucked me in.’ She smiled, and sleep came on her again.

* * * *

The Plains of Sirik stirred in the night, uneasy, in shock of its dark trespassers. The moon sat in the starry heavens, but thin fingers of cloud stretched out, making the light dreary and faint. It was bitter cold.

Three figures cast themselves to the stony earth amidst the frosted grass. They drew deep breaths—shadowy mist that lingered before retreating to the gloom. Black hoods hid villainous facades. Moonlight glinted on axe blades.

The figures each took a few gulps from a wineskin filled with dark and fragrant draught, before it was returned to the shoulder of the one who carried it. They rose, seemingly tireless in their task.

Standing before them, their leader pointed westward to confirm some previous debate.

“Prints are clear here.”

“The ground under grass is firm, but there’s no mistaking the toe claws. I agree.”

They began their journey again in silence as a steady thumping and rattling of gear danced at their sides. Strength must be conserved for the long run.  Their destination lay somewhere beyond the city of Tusokan—beyond the bay, sat at the edge of the River Itinerus. They didn’t have a precise mark yet, but they were getting close.

They’d find the tunnels. In their depths, they’d find the ones who, with their treacherous deeds, had made themselves an enemy of the Black Division. Then the true task would begin.

Slaughter.

That was what they did. It was their purpose. They were Dark Knight executors. They were taken as members of the Black Division for no other reason than this one, hideous talent—a talent they’d been ordered to show to Evildrath’s dark elf raiders.

* * * *

Day came with a cold blue light. It shone through Lala’s window and spilled off her warm quilt onto the floor, under her door. Slowly she rose at a sound from downstairs, then tiptoed across the cold floor boards.

She stood very still at the top of the steps. “Ah, a little hum with breakfast,” she whispered to herself with a smile. It reminded her of her own mum.

“Good morning,” whispered Turim, coming up behind her suddenly.

Lala, startled for a moment, whipped around. “Don’t do that,” she hissed back. “You nearly made me fall down the stairs.”

Turim gave a wry smile beneath his moustache. She stood next to him, quietly listening a bit more to the gentle and enchanting hums of Thalissa.

“Well, I’m certain the hens have brought their eggs in,” said Turim, shifting to the day’s business. “So, let’s go down for breakfast. Then after, I’ll show you about the farm a bit?”

“Really?” said Lala. “Of course.”

From downstairs, Thalissa stopped what she was doing, and all song faded to an end. She came from the doorway to the kitchen and looked up the stairs toward them. “Good morning. Come. It is time to eat breakfast.”

With a brief look up at Turim, Lala scuttled down the stairs ahead of him. Turim too, seemed happy to be home, and if his step quickened to get to the table, she didn’t blame him. Among other things, there was ham, scrambled eggs with melted cheese, toast with jelly, and a great big carafe of cold milk. Most of this was already sitting on the table.

Lala watched for a moment beside her chair before sitting down as Gwye and Elwyn carried out utensils clutched carefully in their beaks. “Good morning,” she said to them, and they squawked with greetings and delight.

In contrast to the long, slow meal the evening before, they scarfed down breakfast. “Sorry. In a hurry to see more of the farm,” Lala apologized.

 “Aye, and I need to get out and check things over. Make sure it’s all remained in working order while I’ve been away,” added Turim.

Lala’s father had taught her how to do all sorts of things on the farm. She could fix a fence as good as any halfling in her old homestead. Her mother, too, had been quite handy around the house. She’d be glad to help.

 “The animals handle most of the chores themselves,” said Turim. “But they’re not so good at fixing things that need mending.”

After breakfast, they wrapped themselves in heavy, warm cloaks, and the thickest clothing either of them had, they went outside. The air bit at their faces with chill, and a heavy fog sat over all of the plains for as far as Lala could see. And though the sun had risen into the sky, soft shreds of cloud still broke its warmth into pieces. She shivered.

Turim led Lala out behind the house and down a sloping grassy lawn.

“Well, what do you think so far?” asked Turim.

Lala took a few glances about her and turned circles. At the far end of the lawn was a garden of both vegetables and flowers, pale with winter’s chill, yet enchantingly beautiful. Fences stretched around the side of the fowl coop where the fowl fed. Off to her right was the stable, grazing fields out back, and the barn where the sheep and fat-bellied swinks were. She also caught a glimpse of the tool shed off behind it. “I love this place. I’m not so sure I ever want to leave—to start my own farm, I mean.” She laughed.

That was not entirely untrue. ‘Maybe I can just stay here,’ she thought. ‘Safe. Not alone. Am I really ready?’

Turim stuck his head into the fowl coop to look around. Lala waited briefly, then peeked through herself. After the fowl coop, they looked at the great lawn where Turim used to play long ago, lying out like the green sea beneath the watchful eye of the great tree.

“Sand and I always loved climbing it,” Turim added, staring upward with nostalgia.

Lala imagined the two of them as children, playing and laughing, still unaware of the coming of the Dragon Army. And the dragonites.

“What else?” she smiled, trying not to remember playing with the other halfling kids.

Turim led them past the grazing fields out behind the stables. Lala came along behind, starting to breathe a little strange.

“Oh!” she tried to allow herself a chuckle to distract her thoughts. She saw their own steeds they’d ridden to the farm. “There’s Willhea with his head down over there, nibbling some grass.”

She took a step up onto the fence and looked over, while Turim came up beside her, leaning on its timber.

“Aye,” replied Turim. “That pony is quite the eater. I thought you two might get along.”

Lala’s mind wandered to her father. The way he used to chomp down a bowl of oatmeal. She hadn’t been able to slow her breathing down just yet.

“As for Sildál…” Turim trailed off. Lala found herself staring as Turim’s steed ran wide arcs at the far end of the grazing fields, fast as lightning. “He’s always loved it here. There’s so much more open space to run than at Grendelock Keep.”

Turim looked down to her, then took notice. “Are you okay?”

“Just,” Lala took a few slower breaths. “I’m a bit panicked is all. My family, and everything. Sometimes it just comes back.”

“Maybe we should take you to lie down,” said Turim, his voice serious. “I’m sorry. This may have been too much.”

“Just,” Lala surprised herself with how harsh the word came out. She tried again, gentler, “Just talk to me about something else. Talk about how your mom talks to them.” She put her arms around herself.

Turim nodded, settling his shoulders. His face held lines of concern. “My mother says Sildal finds the company of the other steeds here more to his liking.” He paused, as if checking whether he should go on. Lala nodded.

Turim continued. “It seems that way to me too, but the speech of horses is far too foreign for me to tell.”

Lala found a smile, and found another more gentle breath. “I wish I could speak their tongue,” she said as calm as she could. “Or in the tongue of any animal for that matter. Especially the ones I summon.” In her head, the pictures of her family grew warmer, flashed by slower.

Turim stood tall once more, gazing out over the face. “It’s an ancient gift, lost to most.”

“Still, it would be nice.” Lala settled her panic finally. “Sorry. I guess sometimes the pain of all that loss in my village, and all the stuff that’s happened. I know I said I’ve moved on, but… I think a little of it is still there.”

Turim looked at her and put his hand on her shoulder. “It can be tough to handle. Don’t apologize. I’m figuring some things out too.”

Lala decided it might be time to bring up something else she’d wondered about. “Turim. Are you going to tell her?”

He looked into the field. Clearly he knew what she was talking about.“What?” he said obstinately.

“About your passing. Then you coming back… after seeing Lumina and all.”

“I mean to. I just need to find the right time.” Turim nodded, taking a step away from the fence. “It’s my turn now is it? I don’t want to think about these things either.”

“It’s just, you haven’t really said anything about it,” Lala said gently.

“I will.” He didn’t look like the confident Turim she knew.

They stood in silence for a few moments, just watching the horses.

Unexpectedly, as if the sky had been building for a magical moment, Lala felt a cold peck at her cheek. Then another on her nose. She looked to Turim, who’s moustache was turned up again, as he slowly looked toward her.

“Snow?” she found herself sufficiently distracted. She turned in a circle. “Finally. It’s beautiful!”

“Indeed it is.” Turim clapped his hands together for what looked like warmth, but Lala saw it was for joy too.

“That means that the Festival of Snows is tomorrow night,” she said with a smile. “Oh, I can’t wait.”

“Come.” Turim turned towards the house with a bright twinkle in his eye. “Let’s get back inside. The air is already bitter. There’s no reason to catch cold getting snow-damp too. We’ll spend plenty of time in the thick of it tomorrow night.”