The Midnight Ride
Francios saw the strange new-comers off from the temple, trusting that men that could cross between worlds could manage to rent some rooms in a tavern and keep their heads down. Travelers were common in the Kingdom of Oth, so no one would look twice at the group of men come to town.
A knock came on his office door. "Who's there?"
A whisper answered. "Tibbert...its Tibbert."
"Well come in. Don't skulk about in the hallways of our own temple."
Tibbert came in and hurriedly closed the door. He had thick brown hair cut in a bowl cut, and it only accentuated his fat puffy face. "Are they legit? Did they come from the gate?"
Francios settled into the chair behind his heavy desk. "Yes. They are legitimately from the gate." Francios looked up quickly. "Wait...did anyone see them leave the gate...or the Temple of Oth?"
Tibbert shook his head, a self-satisfied look on his face. "Its fine. Members of the Shriver family saw them around the gate, and reported it to us, rather than the guards. They have always been sympathetic to our Order. They won't say anything."
Francios let out a breath. "Have some acolytes keep an eye on the Shriver's farm. As much as I trust them, let's trust our own eyes more."
Tibbert started to leave, but Francios was not done. "Put out word and ready my mount. It is time for a Midnight ride."
Tibbert looked back at Francios with a touch of fear in his eyes. "Aye...I'll take care of it."
As soon as the door latched shut, Francios went to a standing cabinet and opened both doors. He took off his robes, and began donning his scale mail armor and reddish colored outer robes. He strapped a belt around his waist, from which dangled a sliver mace, with gold inlay. He picked up a white mask, and held it in his hands, looking into its dark empty eye sockets. When night fell...he would depart with haste.
_______________________
_______________________
Francios Marchant rode like Rukin himself was chasing him. Black leather barding covered much of the white of his horse. The white mask covered his face, making him anonymous to the world.
Hooves slapped mud on the dark ride, as Francios rode out into the countryside of Othamar. He followed paths, rarely traveled and stayed clear of roads.
As he rode across a large grassy field, a dark shape rose up before him. A ruin, seemingly untouched by the light of the Primus moon. Without slowing a beat, Francios rode his horse through one of the black gaping doorways in the outer walls of the ruin, only then slowing to a trot.
The priest rode his white horse into a large courtyard of the ruined castle, and dismounted. Shadows on the wall seemed to shift slightly, and Francios knew that a score of crossbow bolts were trained on him. "I come on the Midnight ride. Not all that is good - is allowed. And not all that is evil - is forbidden."
A tall figure, wearing the same robes and mask as Francios, stepped from the dark castle gates and began walking across the courtyard full of shadows. "Welcome brother. We came as soon as we received word. A gathering such as this is risky. I hope whatever news you bring is worth it." There was a doubt in the voice. A sense of distrust.
Francios ordered his horse to stay put, and walked to the tall figure. "I wouldn't go on a Midnight Run without news of the utmost importance."
-------------
-------------
In a deep dungeon beneath the castle, 12 masked men sat at a long table. The tall figure from before was at one end, and Francios at the other. A feast of dust and debris were all that the long table held.
An older voice came from one of the masked men. "Nonsense! The idea that we are in the Feyworld...and that our blessed world, destroyed by the green beast, is fine and fair right where it always was...is utterly ridiculous. It is a fringe theory, always given too much credit among your priest, Francios. And now you bring us this...."
The tall man at the end of the table raised his hand. "Wait. These six men. You trust what they say is true? Don't you, Francios?"
Francios nodded. "The gate is closed...as they said it would be. They had with them the Orb of Omradeen...though it was dim, as though drained of power. They seemed as confused as us when they first arrived, and several of them were truly shocked to find themselves here. Yes...I believe what they say is true."
The tall man kept his hand raised, in order to signal everyone else present they were no longer part of the conversation. "This brings new light on many mysteries, if it is true. Why does Lucian Zuc-Swaine forbid anyone to even look at the gate? Why does he hunt our Order, and all those that question the nature of our existence here since the New World formed? Does Zuc-Swaine know what these six men know...or does he act from a position of ignorance?"
A long pause passed. Francios finally took his cue, and spoke up. "We can never really know for sure. But, it seems to me that the Oth King is well aware of this truth the six men speak. That he seeks to keep the three kingdoms here where he brought them so many years ago."
The tall man dropped his hand. "It is possible. It is just as possible that in trying to save the world, he did not anticipate or even understand the results of his magic. It is possible. But, you are right to say we have no idea as of now."
Francios spoke up much more quickly this time. "But the question at hand, is how do we help the six men return home. That is what they wish, and we may learn much in helping them return."
The old voice chimed up from halfway down the table again. Sarcasm dripped from his voice. "What you really mean to say, is that based on your marginalized theory, and whatever information you gain, you hope to merge the New World with the Old, and reverse 512 years of history."
Francios shook his head and began to say deny it, but the old voice continued to speak. "Don't lie Francios. We all know it. And if you are somehow turn out to be right, it would be an amazing thing...returning our three kingdoms to be part of the world again, whole and healthy. But...and this is the rub. If you are wrong, you will return us to a hell made by the Green Beast, and you will destroy us all."
Francios regained his composure. "I would never act without the consent of everyone here. I would only act, if you were all as convinced as I of the wisdom of that action. But, the question at hand...how do we get those six men home? How do we help them?"
The tall figure at the end of the table spoke. "It is not without its risks, but the only way to help them is to acquire the Tome des Mondes Infinis."
The old voice chimed in. "That old dusty tome, translating Theopesis' great work! That is held by the Oth King, in the Fort of Fort des Ténèbres. How would we ever get it?"
Francios smiled a clever smile. "We won't. We'll ask the six men to get it. If they can cross between worlds, getting the Tome should be little trouble for them!"
