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The BloodVaine EpicChapter 21: Bourne
When BloodVaine expelled a large amount of energy and he stunned everyone within Drullen Bell Keep, the gigantic use of Mana power ricocheted throughout the world of Dametreos, upsetting the balance of magical power and sending the energy force into a tailspin.
In a tavern on one of the Black Knight isles....Bourne awoke.
Something was wrong. Deadly wrong. Bourne knew it. He could feel it. The Mana has been disrupted, shattered. The Mana was spiraling, churning, bubbling. Something was rotten in the state of Dametreos. Very rotten.
Bourne sat up. Scratched. Yawned. Drank. Dressed.
Something was rotten in the state of Dametreos.
Bourne peered out the window. The sliver of the moon glimmered through the trees. Bourne extended his senses. Touch. Smell. Sight. Taste. Sound. It was past midnight.
Something was rotten in the state of Dametreos.
Bourne dressed. Packed. Exited his room. Paid his bill. Wandered the streets.
Something was rotten in the state of Dametreos.
Bourne approached the dock. Untied his boat. Raised the anchor. Billowed the sail. Adjusted the tiller. Concentrated.
Something was rotten in the state of Dametreos.
A breeze stirred. A breeze stirred, even though previously it had been a still night. The wind filled the sail, propelled the boat.
Something was rotten in the state of Dametreos.
The single sail boat disappeared into the night, its sole occupant staring, smelling, hearing, touching, tasting. Knowing. Probing. Learning. Feeling.
Something was rotten in the state of Dametreos.
Bourne knew it.
Bourne made good time crossing the Locknest Straight, but of course, he always made good time, for the breeze was always at his back.
Bourne sniffed the air, tasted it. No, it was not in the air, it was the water. Bourne scooped up a handful of seawater and tasted it, his tongue detecting every grain of salt. But there was something more then salt in this ocean. Much more. Now he could see and hear it was well as taste it; a movement, far away, barely a ripple on the calm mirror-like surface.
The ripple morphed from into a wave, a large storm surge that would envelope Bourne’s boat. Bourne was not worried. He simply raised a worn hand.
Creature of the deep, I have not time for this. You can sense it, just as I can sense it. Something is rotten in the state of Dametreos, and devouring me would be a mistake on your part. Go, and feed on fish.
The waved halted, diminished, subsided. A scaly head broke the surface and eyed the boat with the single figure for a moment. Then it seemed to nod, and it sank back into the depths. The Locknest Straight was well named.
Bourne tied up his boat paid the fare required. After eating at a tavern he went to the local stables and bought a swift-looking mare name Glyrynfyndyllyleyn, or Gly for short, from the aged horse breeder. Apparently the old man had a pleasure in giving his horses fake elfish names to impress buyers, for Bourne knew Glyrynfyndyllyleyn meant absolutely nothing in the Old Speech, though the breeder claimed otherwise. Gly was nonetheless a fine horse, and Bourne knew she would aid him well.
As he saddled her, another wave of sickness washed over him. The Mana power had been drained again, and this time the climate had been altered horribly. Bourne sorted out his thoughts and debated with himself whether to return to his boat and travel south, or to ride Gly northwards where he detected another unnatural disaster. Finally he concluded to head northwards.
Something was rotten in the state of Dametreos, and Bourne was determined to find out what.
Bourne had ridden Gly hard almost to the point of death. However Bourne was not unkind, and so he sold the exhausted mare to a peasant and had continued northward on foot, running like a deer down the road. He had had a vision, and the future could not look bleaker.
Something was rotten in the state of Dametreos...and it would only get worse.
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