An Impossible Task

[Gwydion Nefarine]

About eight years ago…

A young man with long black hair, wrapped in an even darker cloak sat at a table in a fort near the border of the Fabrith Empire. Across from him, sat someone who obviously had great authority in the Fabrith Army, a man, probably in his late fifties, dressed in a long, gold-trimmed cloak, elaborate, but visibly efficient, armor, and well-built, though the young man wasn’t sure exactly what position he held. The Fabrith officer broke the silence of the secret meeting, “I thank you for agreeing to meet with us, Mr…….”

Zaknafein was not very comfortable with sharing his name with a government official, so he remained silent. As the young man sitting opposite the officer gave no name, the officer continued, “Sir, then. There is a matter that the Fabrith Empire has been dealing with for a while, now. Do you remember the Druidok Rebellion that was put to an end some ten years ago?” Zaknafein was silent yet again, thinking that that was enough answer to the officer’s question. After all, he didn’t remember anything past two years ago, so he was ignorant of the past happenings of the land.

The general was starting to get frustrated with this silent youth. This one was the one that been recommended by his informant in the Raoro Empire, and the general had taken great pains to meet with this boy, to know where the he could find him. He could not alert the public to the possibility of another rebellion. That would cause chaos. Now, however, he wondered if his effort had proved fruitless, now that he saw this young man, small, verging on skinny, and seemingly, not well-informed in the least. He started to doubt if this one would be ready for the job the general was about to give the young man. According to the Raoro informant, however, this mere boy was one of the most skilled assassins on the continent.

The general beckoned the four elite guards in the room to leave, and then continued, “Well, ten years ago, a group of at least one hundred druidoks openly rebelled against the Fabrith Empire, killing hundreds, possibly thousands, of both Fabrith citizens and soldiers, as well as some members of noble houses throughout the Empire, during their campaign that lasted almost ten years. One day, one of our best mages led us to their camp and to an attacking force headed for a nearby city. The leaders, whose identities remain unknown to us to this day due to their druidok abilities, were abruptly, and publicly, executed, along with the rest of the members of the rebellion, or so we thought.” This was the crucial point, the “job description” so to speak.

“A small village was attacked a few days ago. None of the villagers lived through the battle. There were wounds that were obviously made by animals, many different types of animals. Attacks like these occurred a lot ten years ago, caused by the druidok scum. We now realize that some druidoks escaped that day, quite a few more than we thought possible, and that another leader is at their head.” He let that sink into the young man’s mind. The boy did not move at all during the general’s explanation and had shown no apparent interest so far. “We want you to find this leader, by whatever means necessary, and bring him to us, so that we might eliminate this rebellion once and for all.”

The general knew that he was probably sending the young assassin on a wild goose chase, or, possibly, if he was skilled enough to pick up the trail of the druidoks, which was extremely unlikely, to his death. In fact, for some reason, the mage that had helped them find the druidoks ten years ago could not find a trail this time. They had already used up all their other resources, so now, they were resorting to hiring assassins and mercenaries like the man that sat at the table opposite him.

After a long silence, Zaknafein spoke for the first time during the meeting, “You want him alive?” The general nodded. “And, of course, you will be paid handsomely for the job, should you complete it. You may name your price when you have him before me.” Zaknafein nodded, got up, and went towards the door of the small room, but the voice of the general stopped him. “I offer you a warning, boy. These druidoks are ruthless. They don’t care who they kill and will stop at nothing to complete their goal, however morbid it may be. You’re going to have to be the same way if you want to survive.” If Zaknafein had known any joy, no matter how sinister, he would have laughed. “Believe me. I already am.” With those few words, he left the fort, his hands resting on the hilts of his prized scimitars, hindered neither by the disciplined soldiers all over the fort nor by the grim knowing of the insanely difficult task he had ahead of him.

[Gwydion Nefarine]

* * * * *

“We ask you to reconsider, while you still can, Jarlaxle,” Dallben said to the young druidok in front of him. Zircon chimed in, “You are too few in number, even if all of you are very skilled. That means you’re all the more valuable. A score of even the best-trained druidoks cannot hope to defeat an empire.” Jarlaxle grew frustrated at the two older and wiser druidoks. “Then why don’t you two help me? If you say we are too few, wouldn’t it stand to reason that, if you improved my numbers with your forces, we would no longer be too few?” His tone was dripping with sarcasm. Zircon flashed him a dangerous look. “Hold your tongue, boy. You are not yet old enough to have superiority over your elders,” he said, this time, with a little sarcasm of his own. Then, he grew serious. “We would still be too few, even with our combined forces. Your father had many more and still was overcome, if you remember.”

Jarlaxle did remember. It was not something he would soon forget. That day, his parents had been taken from him. “How is Cambion, anyway?” he asked Dallben. Dallben nodded, understanding the young one’s concern for his younger brother. He is doing well. He is quite a strong and clever fellow, even for a druidok, and surprisingly so for his age.” Jarlaxle nodded in return, expecting no less from his younger brother. He and his father and always been like that, too. It was agreed upon after their parents were taken and executed and the first rebellion put to an end that Cambion would not know of the rebellion, consequently agreeing he could not know of his brother until he was told of the rebellion, since his brother had already resolved to take up the mantle when he was older, against the judgment of Zircon and Dallben.

“I will continue what my father started. I will not let him down.” Zircon shook his head in frustration, while Dallben protested, “Don’t you understand? Your father wanted you to survive to fight another day. That’s why you escaped. There is a difference between bravery and utter foolish disregard for one’s own life. You’re fighting a war you cannot win, Jarlaxle. If you stop now, there will still be a good chance that they will not find you, and if they do, we will fight them off. However, if you refuse to stop this irrational campaign, they will eventually find you.” After a while, Jarlaxle, a little discouraged, but also frustrated, replied, “Then, what’s the point in the rebellion? If you are right, and they eventually will find us, then why even try?” His voice rose in anger.

This time, Dallben reprimanded him, “Watch your tone. There is a point in the rebellion, just not with small numbers. You know as well as many that there aren’t many forces a druidok band of five or six score cannot beat. Let us wait. We can gather more to our cause.” Jarlaxle shrugged. “I have made my decision.” Zircon now being silent altogether, Dallben spoke, a touch of sadness in his voice, “Very well, Jarlaxle, son of Dinien. I suspect that we will not be seeing each other for a long time. Farewell.” Both Dallben and Zircon turned into hawks and flew away, back to their homes. Jarlaxle watched them go. “Farewell, my friends.” He turned to Vierna, his second in command. “What do you think?” Vierna had been there the whole time, but had been silent, not wanting to get in the middle of this conflict. “You know my thoughts, Jarlaxle. We’ve been through this many times.” Vierna was the best fighter in the rebellion, aside from Jarlaxle, of course, and she might have been even cleverer than he. Jarlaxle trusted he judgment, and asked for her advice often. She was with him, but secretly, she worried about the fate of the rebellion.

[Gwydion Nefarine]

* * * * *

Zaknafein stood amidst the bustle of grim activity in the village the Fabrithian officer had told him about. The dead were being buried en masse, one large grave for the scores of dead. Zaknafein was not bothered by death and destruction – truly, he relished it. He went around, examining the already decaying bodies. The general had been right. Though the bodies had already started decomposing, it was obvious that many had been killed by animals. Those that were not fell to arrows of a unique make. Obviously, the druidoks made their own arrows, and they did not buy human arrows. Zaknafein hopelessly looked for a hint of the direction the druidoks had gone, but of course, they left no prints aside from those in the village, when the fight had gone on. Zaknafein was truly stumped, a rarity for him. But he had powerful connections…

* * * * *

“No, the truth is I don’t know a thing, my elusive friend,” a large, middle-aged man said to Zaknafein at a table at a tavern in Alodale. Zaknafein smirked at the fool. He brought a gold coin out of his pocket and slid it across the table to him. The man smiled. “Ah, yes, my memory is coming back to me, the druidok rebellion. What!? You don’t know of it. What did you live in a hole in the ground for the first ten years of your life, boy!?” Actually, for all Zaknafein knew, he could have. He wasn’t exactly sure about his age, but he guessed that he was in his twenties. “Just tell me about it.” The man, who went by the name of Brunen, held his incredulous stare as he proceeded to tell Zaknafein about the first Druidok Rebellion. “Well, I guess it was about twenty years ago, that mysterious attacks started taking place on caravans and other traveling bands that went to and from the Fabrith Empire. Each time, all the people were killed. They never left survivors.”

By now, Brunen had gotten completely serious. “That kept on for a few more years. During that time, no one could determine the cause of the deaths, though some suspected correctly. This type of ferocity was rare, and for it to suddenly become common was a scary thing to many people. Of course, they left no tracks or indicators aside from those on the battlefield. The perfect crime gang, many of us thought the group.” He briefly smiled at that and went on, “Later, they moved on to entire villages and small towns, leaving a stench of death everywhere they went. If any of them died themselves, then we never found out. A few times they even killed nobles or those of noble lineage, which made the wrong individuals in power angry. That’s when they found the mage, nearly as baffling as the druidok attacks themselves. I don’t know many of the details surrounding the event, but I do know that the mage led the armies of the Fabrith Empire right to the rebels. Strange isn’t it? I think the mage probably was granted a powerful position in the empire after that, though I never confirmed it.”

Zaknafein, so far, hadn’t learned much more than what the general had told him. “Okay, then, what about the talk of a new druidok rebellion?” Brunen looked at him with a blank look. “A new druidok rebellion? Why, I haven’t heard such talk?” Zaknafein started to reach for his scimitars, but then remembered the last time he had tried that against Brunen. The smuggler would die before giving in to another’s demands, unless they paid him of course. He was quite an odd criminal, indeed. Zaknafein took yet another gold coin and placed it on the table. “Oh, did you say new druidok rebellion? Oh, yes, now that, I’ve heard talk of.” Zaknafein was getting increasingly annoyed but urged Brunen to go on. “What have you heard then?” Brunen adopted his serious expression again. “Aye, it’s starting all over again, but this time, the rebels skipped a few years. They announced their return from hiding with an immediate attack on a small village near the border. But, my men found some curious things in the village…”

Zaknafein slipped him two more gold coins. “Now, what was it that they said, again?” About twenty more coins. “Ah, yes. Now I remember. This time, there were significantly less tracks than those years ago, meaning that there are much less druidoks in the new rebellion. Now, when the first rebellion was captured ten years ago, the Fabrith Empire never admitted it, but a great deal of druidoks escaped. Technically, there should be at least one hundred today, probably many more. My best scouts said that, with those tracks, there could be no more than two score of druidoks among the rebels, maybe even less. We can’t be sure, of course. And, though you’ve probably considered the possibility, that could mean that these druidoks are rogues.” Brunen grinned. Zaknafein followed his speculation. “So, that would mean that they would have no help from the others…” Brunen interrupted, “But that would also mean that no more than 40 druidoks killed an entire village.”

[Gwydion Nefarine]

Zaknafein thought about that for a moment. He knew some very ruthless assassins, like himself, but if forty of them got together, they would still be hard pressed to wipe out a village, much less with no casualties. He realized now that his task might be harder than he first thought. “How could I find them?” Bruen looked at him incredulously. “What?! Find them?! No, my boy, you cannot just find them. They have no hideout, not that I know of anyway. Word is that they are all nomads, somewhat. They move from place to place. I doubt that you could find them. None of my scouts have ever found their camp, and if some did happen to come across it, they never returned. You can’t just find them.” Zaknafein persisted, “So, where can I find them?” Bruen grinned and shrugged. “You’ve always been lucky. Maybe you’ll stumble across it. Then again, you would probably be luckier if you just didn’t find it.”

Bruen took on an expression of surprise, just now realizing what his “customer” was actually doing. “I knew you were crazy, boy, but this is ridiculous. If you’re going to do something this crazy, you’re going to need a team of people as crazy as you are.” He grinned again. “I know just the people.” Zaknafein protested. “I work alone. I don’t need people to split the profit with. I’ll do this by myself, as I always have.” Bruen laughed. “Unless you want to die, I suggest you suffer a team. Now, what’s your objective, exactly?” Zaknafein was no fool, and knew that Bruen was right. “Infiltrate the rebels, capture their leader, and bring the druidok back to my employer.” Zaknafein knew Bruen was inwardly laughing at his former statement’s outrageousness. “And how do you plan to do that, assuming that you find the rebels, of course?” Zaknafein continued, a little annoyed at the rich crime leader’s mocking tone, “Capture him, without being seen, and escape.”

Bruen’s grin never faded. “And if they have guards surrounding the camp, and you are seen…..?” Zaknafein replied, “Fight my way out.” Bruen burst out laughing, demanding Zaknafein to finger his scimitars once again, but, again, he stayed his hand. “You mean you plan to fight two score highly trained druidoks by yourself and somehow emerge victorious?” He continued laughing, and Zaknafein knew that that wasn’t a question he was meant to answer. He realized the absurdity of his claim now. He couldn’t accomplish such a feat, not by himself. “So, I assume the people you know could help me complete my mission?” Bruen finally stopped laughing, and replied. “Yes, ten people in fact. I guess that would make you a crew of eleven. Let’s see, there’s…” he counted on his fingers, naming off people to himself. “Yes, that should do the trick,” he muttered, again to himself. Zaknafein could stand it no longer. “Well, who are they?” Bruen looked at him, as if he just noticed he was there. “Like you, Mr. “Scimdeath”, none of them go by their real names, of course. Well, you’ll need an illusionist, a tracker mage, another non-magical tracker, just in case, two battle mages, and four assassins like yourself, some skilled with the bow, some with melee weapons, and some both. That will give you eleven in all, including you.”

Zaknafein corrected, “That’s only ten, including me.” Bruen laughed again. “Well, you need someone to look after you bunch, don’t you? That’ll be me.” Zaknafein opened his mouth to protest, thinking he would only get in the way, but Bruen cut him off. “I’m not such a bad fighter myself, you know. And I’ll pay off the nine others, so you don’t have to split profits.” Zaknafein looked at him suspiciously, knowing that there was a condition coming up. “What do you want me to do?” Bruen’s grin was almost an insane grimace now. “I have a job for you after we’re finished. Never fear, it’s nothing you can’t handle, I’m sure. “For now, though, why don’t you think of me as funding this little scheme you have going on.” Zaknafein knew that Bruen would put together a skilled team, indeed, possibly good enough to actually accomplish their seemingly impossible task, but he was suspicious of this job that Bruen had for him. Bruen never gave him an easy job. This was likely something almost as difficult as his present assignment. But he would get to finish his job and get his money, so he was satisfied. Even if he had to work with a team.