OraclePrologue

A long, long time ago, a time now belonging to myth and legend, a perfect sphere of crystal, half white, half black, was forged by the god-mages and the power to control the balance of good and evil was sealed within this crystal sphere. Only the High Arkmage of the Conclave of Zeoth could wield the sphere’s holy power. The first High Arkmage to use this sphere had it used as the focuser of his staff of office, thus passing it down, with his title, to the next Arkmage to take his place as High Arkmage. The sphere’s power could balance out the forces of evil and good, not letting either side take dominance. This annoyed followers of both sides of the powers and they decided that, to allow their side of the power win; they needed to assassinate the High Arkmage. The last High Arkmage was killed with two arrows of the power hitting his heart, one black with evil, one white with good. The crystal sphere shattered apart along the clear centre to leave one black half-sphere and one white half-sphere. God-mages reformed the half-spheres into two smaller spheres, these they placed at the centre of two oracles, one of the white crystal as an oracle to the white power, and one of the black crystal to the black power. These crystals were surrounded by rings inscribed with runes, each containing a different spell; prophesy, healing, light, darkness, etc. the dark oracle was stolen by dark worshiping god-mages and was hidden away in a temple to the dark power whilst the white oracle was placed in an underground citadel below the grand cathedral to the white power. For years the two oracles sat there, waiting whilst their very existence fell into rumour, then legend, then myth. Some believed the myths and went searching but never found the temple, cathedral or citadel. Some never returned from their quests, but one believed that he should retrieve the white oracle from the citadel, not for his own glory, but to help the people of his city. This is where our tale begins…

  Swish! Clack! Swish! Swipe! Clack!

Darrin ducked as his opponent’s sabre swished over his head, he was a fencer, a fencer had no chance against a swordsman of Darrin’s skills. Darrin brought his two handed broadsword up in a parrying sweep, Clack!, the two wooden tournament sword’s blades hit each other halfway between the two contestants. The fencer was quick off the mark and, with a fancy move, slashed open Darrin’s upper left arm ‘blood’ pack. Half the crowd gasped as the fake blood ran down Darrin’s left arm, the other half cheered a successful hit for the fencer. Darrin was disgusted with himself, he had dropped his guard and, as a direct result, his opponent had scored a large point bonus, time to get tough. Darrin hefted his blade and took a swing from the left, the fencer swung to the right, and Darrin swapped his stance almost instantaneously and swung down from the right, and scored a long line of burst ‘blood’ packs down along the fencer’s back. A cheer from one half of the crowd, a gasp and a groan from the other. Darrin grinned a little at his good hit, and suddenly the fencer was swinging back with a fancy fencing move, ‘two can play at that game’ thought Darrin and lent back on one leg, held his sword tightly to his side in both hands, and sprung forward. He brought his sword horizontal, and slammed it into his opponent’s chest, under the sabre, smashing a long line of ‘blood’ packs across the fencer’s chest, at heart height. The fencer was knocked back by the impact’s force and hit the ground winded

  “Garret has been defeated by a horizontal spring slash, Darrin is the winner” Shouted the high judge.

Cheering erupted on both sides of the arena, for Darrin’s win and for Darrin’s superb finishing move, for the horizontal spring slash is a hard trick to pull off successfully. Darrin stepped up to his opponent, Fencer Garret, and shook hands with him

  “Good fight Fencer Garret” Darrin said to him

  “And to you Swordsman Darrin, good fight” Replied Garret, fake blood still flowing down his tournament armour

 The two contestants tuned backs to each other and walked off to their tents, applause and cheering still ringing in their ears. When Darrin got back to his tent he found his friends waiting outside cheering him, holding tankards of ale, ready for a toast and a drink

  “let me get changed first” Darrin told them as he fought his way into his tent. He only realised he had a grin plastered on his face when he looked at his real armour. He decided to keep the grin there for a bit longer. Darrin removed his special tournament armour and put it and the sword in a special padded box, closed and locked the lid and put on his real, shiny, steel armour, with his crest on it’s back, a blue shield with a sword down the centre and a picture of the white oracle over the top. He also had a steel version of the sword strapped to his back in his leather scabbard. Darrin walked out of his tent, and was immediately mobbed by his friends

  “hey, hey, where’s my ale? Eh? Give me a tankard then” Darrin said to them, he felt a tankard being pressed into his hand, looking in the direction that the tankard came from he saw his childhood friend, Allian.

  “what do we toast to then?” Darrin said

  “how about you winning the duelling tournament” said one man

  “I’ve won?” Asked Darrin, surprised, he didn’t think that it had been the final

  “yeh, that final move pumped up your score big time, you’ve won the duels, you win”

Darrin glanced at the scoreboard, he had won the duels part of the tournament, his finishing move had earned him enough points to pull ahead of the competition. Darrin wanted to talk to Allian so he slipped away from the crowd towards Allian’s tent. Inside, Allian was waiting for him.

  “hi Allian, damn it’s been so long since I’ve seen you, where’ve you been?” Darrin said to Allian

Allian stood up and walked towards Darrin, he then grabbed Darrin in a hug, grinning

  “You’re right Dar, it’s been too long” said Allian “ as for where I’ve been, well, you remember how I showed a talent for magik?” asked Allian

  “yeh, you were a real wiz with those light spells” replied Darrin

  “well I’ve been at a training school for sorcerers so I could hone my talents, they actually said I was more of a mage than sorcerer, well, I showed remarkable necromantic prowess so I was trained and last month I was given my Magi. So now I’m here as a fully fledged Necromantic mage.” Allian told Darrin.

Allian showed Darrin his Magi, his weapon; it was a staff with a blue crystal point at one end, and an orb of clouded quartz at the other.

  “I also have special armour as well” said Allian, and showed Darrin his necromancer armour, it was an aquamarine colour with a skull on each shoulder and bone gloves on the arms.

 

   Out on the tournament field the crossbowmen competitions were taking place, three shots, they had to get two of three inside the first ring to get to the next round, then the two arrows had to get into the second ring in, third round, third ring in, finals they needed to get two arrows into the bull’s-eye to win. Jarenth was through to the finals; he raised his crossbow, aimed, and pulled the trigger. Shissssssssh, thunk! His bolt hit the bull’s-eye dead centre, popping out the back about an inch. Cheering broke out along the stands, three bolts in the bull’s-eye, and in a straight line as well, that took good marksmanship to carry out. Jarenth was one of the best, he had trained almost daily for the tournament and all that training had finally paid off