The Mahgyi Realm

Prologue              The sun beams from the top of the sky as two men gaze from a porch out in the vast land of Hadleigh. Hervi, a tall man with long, full chestnut hair, rocks back and forth in the comfort of his rocking chair. The other, Roallet—a man much shorter than Hervi, uglier too, but compensates his hideousness with talent and wit—sits still in the emptiness of his cold, wood chair. Roallet has always thought it was amusing that Hervi put so much time and effort into making a beautiful porch but then to only give up after making one magnificent chair. It’s as if Hervi thought he deserved to be seated in such an elegant chair because he is the one and only man to build the porch that everybody (when in reality nobody) talks about. So one chair seemed enough. The men, tired from a day's work, speculate of Hadleigh politics and Mahgyi politics in general. As big as the city is, there are only a few hundred or so individuals who live in Hadleigh that have an occupation as scholarly as these two men do. These intellectuals are highly knowledgeable and are well respected for their immense intelligence. Hadleigh, as one of the nine cities in the Mahgyi Realm, is well-known for producing these brilliant men and women. The intellectuals, sitting on the porch talking, try to keep away from the evil thoughts that boggle their minds. Their wives and children would not understand, and to bring up topics like so would just be inappropriate. Nevertheless, as suspicious creatures these humans are, the intellectuals talk about how inefficient their city is run. The group that makes up the scholars are well informed of Hadleigh’s politics, but they have no actual say in the way it is run. Many politicians and leaders seek out these intellectuals, mostly looking for advice but sometimes even job offers. These offers are rare though, due to scholars always ridiculing and degrading politicians and those of high authority for their ignorance, which is exactly what the two men on the porch are doing. Roallet is the first to engage in this kind of conversation. “Have you heard of the call for homeowners to move out of the North Ridge, Hervi?”   “Yes, I came across a lad who worked with a man who was a part of the move. He told me that the family that was forced to move was strangely tolerable of this act. What is even weirder is that the family was at first very bothered, but as if they were rewarded for changing their minds, they now act like nothing happened,” spoke Hervi. Both the men know that the city has changed course economically. Hadleigh has flourished from their abundance of ytterbium for as long as the city has stood. This soft element gives many uses that the Mahgyi Realm is dependent on. About a quarter of Hadleigh’s workforce is made up of the mining industry, monopolizing most of the realm’s element productions. Both the city of Hadleigh and the realm grew in value as the other cities needed this great resource. For the past few months, Hervi and Roallet and many other intellectuals conjecture about how Hadleigh is still growing in value due to recent events. The city of Krentis that resides a little over a hundred miles southeast of Hadleigh, has discovered another mineral similar to ytterbium but double its potential. Not only is this newfound resource (gweybis) stronger, it’s tremendously cheaper. Some scholars, like Hervi and Roallet, cannot seem to get away from the fact that Hadleigh has not plummeted as their projections say they should. They wonder how fraudulent their city is at the moment and if this leads to a finding that the city has always been running in fraud. But this is nothing new to the intellectuals’ culture. All scholars dating back centuries have talked like this for many years but, as always, there is no evidence supporting their clauses. Hervi and Roallet can agree to have speculated quite a bit when it comes to politics, but they both know this time is different. “It just seems odd doesn’t it,” says Hervi, “Our shares’ face value hasn’t fallen. It’s like ytterbium has never been doing better, but whenever I visit the Mahgyi Market, I witness gweybis outsell us every time,” Hervi and Roallet cannot come to terms with a logical explanation as to why and how Hadleigh’s equity and domestic output haven’t fallen. “It doesn’t add up, and I haven't heard from anyone from the city council in a while. I know politicians are secretive, but this is unusual,” The pause in the men's conversation while they smoke their pipes allows them to think rationally about what they are saying, but they cannot shake these thoughts. Hervi and Roallet can’t stray from these facts that are not arbitrary. Both of them know that with the gweybis substitute in Krentis, ytterbium should almost be worth nothing. “I don’t understand,” says Roallet, “maybe it has something to do with the new mining exploration, but why wouldn’t we be informed of what’s going on?” “I want to speak with a family that was part of the move, Roallet. Do you think we should do so?” Hervi questions. “Yes. I think it to be wise; but I have much work to do, as do you Hervi. It seems as though we have put stock in one of our ‘outrageous’ theories,” The two intellectuals smile, dismiss their rational thinking, and mount their travois (a common use for transportation in the Mahgyi Realm). The three barebire used to pull the travois trots along the unsettled terrain. Nothing but tall grass stands on both sides of the sled. If either of the scholars were to move their heads outside of the travois’s width, their face would be cut up from the sharp passing grass. Not much stands between Hervi and Roallet’s small village and the marketplace of Hadleigh. Both of them have talked before about starting an agricultural business on the land in between. They have the wealth to buy the land from the city, and it would only take a small loan from a moneybacker to pay for the capital to start farming—moneybackers do not have to worry about giving out money to intellectuals because they know the scholars are well respected and known for their intelligence. There is no doubt in mind that a scholar will pay his return to a moneybacker (and of course everyone knows that the intellectuals are extremely affluent). But as always this dream is all talk. As smart as the scholars are, they sure seem to not take into action unless it’s for work. Finally, the two men see the grey, mossy brick of the outer border wall of the marketplace. As one of the most successful cities in the Mahgyi Realm, Hadleigh has grown to become the biggest city, reaching over 204 square miles. All of that is surrounded by a beautiful standing wall. This wall was not built for any defense purposes, but for pure beauty, to show off Hadleigh’s significance to the realm. All cities, including the Mahgyi Market, have a tall standing wall. The walls portray a unique style and culture to each city, and although the cities do not thrive to have the most alluring structures, there is almost an unspoken competition of which wall and architectures are most attractive. Hervi and Roallet can almost hear the commotion that runs all day and night in the marketplace. There are many similarities between the nine Mahgyi cities—from trading to bargaining to producing to entertaining, the marketplace is the most populated part of each city in the realm, and it is LOUD! Whether something great is happening or everything is uneventful, the city’s marketplace will roar and disrupt any serenity within miles of it. The two scholars enter what is said to be the most successful market of the Mahgyi Realm and try to navigate to the east housing. Even though their proximity to the family’s home is much closer now than it was back from Hervi’s home, they have only made it halfway there in terms of time.  Passing through the city’s core takes a bit of patience and skill, trying to figure out which road leads where, not getting in pedestrians’ way, waiting on the traffic caused by businessmen determined on making profits, and all the while having the maps changing every so often because of new road works. It is very common for someone to have an outdated map in the marketplace, having not been there for only a few weeks yet alone months. The intellectuals arrive to the family’s house with time to spare and they park their barebire next to a small, white mailbox which says “The Hagties”. Hervi first walks toward the vibrant-red door, but before he can knock, a man opens the door as if he knew they were coming. “Mr. Hagtie?” Roallet assumes. “Yes, can I help you gentlemen?” says Mr. Hagtie, willing to talk with the intellectuals. Hervi tells him that he works with someone he knows who told him about the move. “So you boys are intellectuals!” Mr. Hagtie says impressively, “Well, yes, I was part of the move as your colleague has told you,” “It seems a little unfair doesn’t it, having been thrown out of your home for a mining exploration that doesn’t produce much at all,” Roallet says as if trying to trigger the young man, “If I were you I would want to go to that mine and take what is rightfully mine. You should get a share of what they’re digging up there,” “Ha! That would be nice wouldn’t it, but then again I would be getting nothing,” said Mr. Hagtie playfully. “I beg your pardon?” asks Hervi. “Oh, you haven’t heard? The land, where my house had previously been, used for the mining produced such little ytterbium that they stopped working there, and they had to lay off a great many of workers because the expedition was such a failure. They just couldn’t afford to keep every miner,” explained Mr. Hagtie. Hervi and Roallet exchanged puzzled looks. “That doesn’t make any sense at all. Only a few months of production and they needed to lay off workers? How many did they let go?” Roallet says, trying to understand what is going on. “I heard they laid off the entire crew who was working at the new site,” “What kind of basis of firing is that? I bet some of the top-tier, highly skilled miners were a part of that,” “I’m not sure,” proclaims Mr. Hagtie, “All I know is, I need to get to work! Will that be all, scholars?” At this point, Hervi and Roallet are truly confused, being as smart of scholars as they have educated themselves to be, they cannot make sense of the situation. “No, that’s all,” says Roallet, “Thank you, sir,” Mr. Hagtie swiftly makes his way to his travois and fastens his barebire to the straps that connects to the wooden pallet that holds the rider. Hervi stands next to Mr. Hagtie’s small, aged and wooden fence that stands crooked out of the ground and looks at Roallet for an answer, but Hervi knows Roallet has no response. The two men of Mahgyi continue their journey through Hadleigh, keeping their calm before they have actual evidence of corruption and/or fraud within Hadleigh jurisdiction, and before they know it, they have returned to the luxurious village in Hadleigh which was their inaugurate location of the day. The sun now rests upon the horizon, and the intellectuals try to rid of the bothersome news they have found during the day by a night’s rest, but to what they have expected, the next morning did not consist of indifferent thoughts of the matter. Hervi and Roallet decide to meet in the archives of Hadleigh. Upon their arrival, Hervi and Roallet begin to research, trying to find any connection between the recent mining exploration and the grounds used in that project. “Roallet, I just can’t find any reason as to why they would start a mining expedition in the North Ridge,” Hervi rummages through many texts while the men seek through the archives. The tall, granite building is a labyrinth within itself, filled with texts of rich history and restricted information only granted to those of higher authoritative status. The intellectuals spend most of their time working and researching in the archive building, never having read all the texts in the castle of a library. Hours and hours go by and the men aren’t any closer to finding any guidance toward their goal, evaluating hundreds of books in a matter of a half hour. Elevating through the floors like fearful prey running up a tree from its predator, Hervi and Roallet scavenge for any information regarding the North Ridge. “Hervi! Get over here!” Roallet says excitedly. He is standing next to what looks like an untouched part of the archives for a great while, but books seem to be missing and out of place. The shelves, covered with dust, show the bindings of books reading The North Ridge, Rare Materials of Hadleigh, and Excursions of Hadleigh’s City Plans. “Have you found something?” Hervi says with enthusiasm. “Help me uncover some of these texts! I think I’m on to something!” Both Hervi and Roallet skim through the books that make up the east section of the sixth floor in the archives. “Here!” A musty, navy blue book titled The Legend of The Divinitus rests in the hands of Roallet. “Listen to this, Hervi,” Roallet begins to read a passage out of the hardback book while both of the intellectuals crowd over the fragile paper bound in the text:   The Enhancement Orb, referenced in archaic terms as just ‘The Divinitus', is said to make home in a land North of the Druit River in plaines buried in the depths of the soft, untattered grounds. The orb-like relic can enhance an entity’s power if given a wielding vessel. By containing its power, one can conjure a stalwart army, capable of annihilating any singular or plentiful body that stands in its way, and even resurrect the dead. But such a power comes with a great price, any altruistic and rightful thought transmogrifies into virtues of greed and vile mindsets.  And those who attempt to venture for the power of The Divinitus shall proceed with caution. For many eternity, a most demonic race, the Teryforn, have been known to have claimed The Divinitus as their own, and they have been searching for the orb since the dawn of their existence. Know that no one stands in their way, and even if The Enhancement Orb lies within the grounds of another race unknowingly, they will not hesitate to s*******r those who are the most innocent bystanders, for everyone in their eyes is perceived as a hindrance.   “Roallet, have we been betrayed?” Hervi continues with angst, “What if this is what the city was doing in the North Ridge. A failed mining expedition? It doesn’t add up, and if they’ve stopped the mining already, could they have found it?” “We must leave. Warn Gawlter and the others,” “Agreed. Grab the text, and let’s go,” Hervi and Roallet storm out of the archives, and mount their travois, the wind pierces through the wood that assembles it. Hervi and Roallet rally the other intellectuals. The arrogant bunch settle to move west of Hadleigh, closer to a decrepit sanctuary location.   One Year Later…   Ogerius Trafs looks down at the mysterious, glaucous orb he holds clutched to his chest. He can sense its power, feel the weight and potential it holds within. He is aware of what this orb, the Divinitus, holds within, but he is uninformed of the crozier he found with it. He detaches the orb and long, swooping staff as soon as he found the pair, afraid of the damage he might cause with the two together. Ogerius is frightened, but knows it is his duty to safeguard the Divinitus from… them. Ogerius has little knowledge of these loathsome creatures that have obliterated Hadleigh.  All he is certain of is that they seek this orb, and that they must not acquire it. Ogerius, knowing that these beings, the Teryforn, possess immense amounts of strength and energy—the likes of which have never been seen by the nine cities—proceeds with caution. As he rounds the corner of the city hall, he witnesses something most brutal. The glint of a sword catches his eye as it swings through the crisp evening air, beheading Hadleigh’s top sovereign, Osirix Leka. The warrior wipes his bloodied sword on his ragged shorts, and orders his legion to the strongroom, where Leka had told them the orb was kept. Unbeknownst to them, Ogerius has already collected it and the crozier-like staff in which it was being held. Believing them to be distracted, at least for the moment, Ogerius traverses the rubble and ash that was once his home. As he makes his way through the unhinged gates of Hadleigh, he looks back in dismay at the sight of the tree in the center of the city. Once a towering and blossoming white willow tree, it now emits a large black cloud of smoke, and has been reduced to nothing more than a pile of ash. As the petals of the tree float to the ground, Ogerius knows that this truly is the end of Hadleigh. But as much as he would like to run to his home and search for friends and colleagues, he knows he must fulfill his bidding. And so, with much reluctance and ire, he turns his back on Hadleigh, and begins his quest to seek out the men who had given him the orders to protect this orb. The other intellectuals had asked him to stay behind to ensure that the orb will not end up in the hands of the Teryforn, and if they were to attempt to take it, like today, Ogerius is to embezzle the Divinitus and bring it back to the safety of the intellectuals. Although Ogerius—and as well as the rest of the scholar coterie—does not approve of Hadleigh trying to harness its power, they couldn’t steal such a powerful, undisclosed artifact without leaving a trace and a target on your back; this is why it was critical for Ogerius to wait until the Teryforn’s heist was underway. Only then could he clutch the item without suspicion. Ogerius now takes his travois and speeds off with five barebire, knowing he could reach the intellectuals at the rendezvous location in a day’s travel. However, as he treads across the land outside of Hadleigh, he realizes that a certain amount of skepticism rests within him, regarding his colleagues’ intentions with the orb. As he believes (believes so much so he can almost say he knows) he is the only being alive with knowledge of this crozier that was found to be holding the orb, Ogerius decides to conceal it, as a sort of fail-safe mechanism that would ensure that the others could not access the full extent of the orb’s power, if in fact this crozier had anything to do with harnessing its power. As he passes the Harrell Canyon, about 200 miles west of Hadleigh, he spots his old friends, Hervi and Gawlter. Both of them notice the gaunt look on Ogerius’s face and know that it is done. “The orb, Ogerius?” inquires Hervi. “As requested,” replies Ogerius, as he reaches into the pocket of his robe, careful not to reveal the crozier tucked away in its folds. He hands it to Hervi, whose eyes gleam at the sight of such a deceivingly innocent-looking relic. “Thank you, Ogerius. You have done your people, us, a great service,” says Hervi, placing the orb into a chest and locking it, “Welcome back. Gawlter and I have missed you dearly, and we smile happily upon your return. Come over here and meet—” “We can’t stay here,” Ogerius blurts, much to the shock of his old friends, “What I saw in Hadleigh was a force far more powerful than we’ve ever known. Something of legend. Something evil. We must warn the people of Mahgyi of these creatures,” “Dear Ogerius,” replies Gawlter, “Why? We have everything we need, now that you have brought us this orb. Do you know what the Council of the Realm would say if they knew we had this in our possession? What they would do? We’d be tried for treason at least, and the council isn’t known to be forgiving. After all, aren’t you more concerned for our fate—your fate—than the fate of the scum in the other eight cities, the rest of the Mahgyi Realm?” “Gawlter, it is well known that Hadleigh produces only the best and brightest intellectuals, and for that we ought to be proud. However, this ‘scum’, as you call them, are also people of Mahgyi, and we must inform them of the desolation of Hadleigh,” “Ogerius,” Hervi intervenes, “While we are all of the same kin in that we were born on Mahgyi soil, that is the only commonality between us and them. They have been jealous of our success in recent years and would hardly accept us with open arms. I insist that you stay and rest. You must be weary after your travel today.” “Hervi, I cannot sit here and let this tragedy go unbeknown to the people of Mahgyi. At the very least they must be given a chance to prepare for battle with this most formidable enemy. I must leave now,” “If that is your desire, Ogerius, we shall honor it,'' says Gawlter, “However, if you choose to go to the Mahgyi Market, and to exploit what has happened here, know that you stand alone. If you return here, you will be treated as one of them, and will be dealt with as such. Do I make myself clear?” “Yes, Gawlter, but I am willing to risk my own life in order to save all of Mahgyi from these barbarians. Goodbye, friends. I wish you luck in your endeavors,” Ogerius, with the staff still hidden within his robes, then hooks five barebire up to the nearest travois, and begins his long journey to the Mahgyi Market.  “Leave one, Ogerius. We need barebire, for the time being,” Gawlter looks upon him with an expressionless face, and he abides by his will.  As he watches his friends fade into the distance, Ogerius experiences some semblance of regret that he did not stay longer, that he has not heeded Gawlter’s warnings about the punishment that awaited him at the Mahgyi Market. However, this feeling of hesitation quickly withers as Ogerius realizes that this is for the greater good, and that his own fate matters very little in the scope of the Mahgyi Realm. While he had been unable to save his family and friends from the Teryforn that destroyed Hadleigh, there is a chance that he could prevent such tragedy from striking the rest of the realm, and to Ogerius, this is well worth any punishment he would endure. For now, he has only the coarse sand of the Harrell Desert and the cool air of the emerging night to turn his attention to. As Ogerius approaches the Mahgyi Market, he conjectures about what the Council of the Realm will think of the attack, but especially what they will think of his knowledge of the Divinitus. He sees the grey, rustic brick walls and the wooden roofs that make up of most of the markets in the Mahgyi Market. Ogerius feels distraught, especially when in juxtaposition with the other Mahgyi peoples walking about, thinking today is as ordinary as the last. The people running their errands and doing their business and all the while a city, a part of their home, a ninth of what makes the Mahgyi Realm, is in decimation. Ogerius trembles while trying to control his barebire that are acting just as apprehensive as he is, and the people who walk along the roads stare at him because of his erratic behavior and the trepidation that lies in his expression. Ogerius looks into the windows of pastry shops, seeing the cheerful men and women of all races from the Mahgyi Realm, and with this knowledge of this tragedy, he feels obligated to shout it out, to warn many of what is to come. Even though this deep, potent feeling influences Ogerius greatly, his realistic and extraordinary shrewdness thwarts this emotion of helping the people of this guild that makes up the Mahgyi Realm. The worst part is when he sees other people indigenous to Hadleigh, it makes him sick to his stomach to know that those people who are in the Mahgyi Market are the last of Hadleigh’s existence. Ogerius speeds past a fellow who lives, or this case lived, in the proximity of the village in Hadleigh in which Ogerius lived as well. He’s going so fast, the neighbor doesn’t even have the opportunity to say anything, let alone even notice it is Ogerius who tramples on by. Ogerius comes along the Mahgyi Capital and makes the voyage up the hill, following the long and winding road to the threshold of the council. He rides past the mark where he is supposed to station his barebire for the sake of a lack of time. He finds his way to large, arcing doorway and jumps off his travois, proceeding to the entrance. Ogerius has no time to waste, so he sprints past security workers and secretaries to the council room. He sees the guards standing in his way and knows that they will try to restrain him. Ogerius picks up speed and summons all his strength to barrel through the men in his way, and even though meetings are in progress, Ogerius intrudes. “Ogerius!” yells Alderman, “What are you doing here?!” Ogerius is now looking up at the ten people, ten creatures, that make up the council. The Council of the Realm is made up of one member from each of the nine cities, plus one extra voted to be at a higher place amongst the group, who at the time is Cuvvy Yundoe from Kas Adruk. Ogerius gives an anguished look at Alderman, but then suspects that Alderman is part of the fraud and lies that tore down Hadleigh. Alderman is Hadleigh’s representative on the Mahgyi Realm’s council and someone who has known Ogerius for quite some time. The tall, brown-eyed man is anxious, for he knows that Ogerius has worrisome news to tell.   Ogerius, out of breath, stammers while trying to inform the committee about the destruction in Hadleigh. “S-s-something terrible h-has happened!” spills Ogerius, figuring out where to start to break the news, “Hadleigh is under attack—” “What!?!” Cuvvy cuts in without giving Ogerius the chance to explain himself. Ogerius is stunned, it’s as if he cannot move. His body is unresponsive. He thought he was ready to take the wrath of the Mahgyi Council to liberate his fellow neighbors back home. Gawlter’s words reside in his mind, Ogerius stands alone, and knowing the power and capability for war the Divinitus has, he decides not to concede the knowledge of it, but sees no harm in showing the crozier. He would rather put it in the hands of people he truly trusts than have it harnessing the power of the orb. And there is no basis for belief that the council will have any sort of knowledge of what this staff is, after all, it was made discreetly by the so-believed corrupt Hadleigh government. “And why are you the one that has come to tell us and not harbingers or couriers?” “Sir please. Hadleigh is now gone, there is nothing left of it. I am the last of what remains of Hadleigh,” which at this point is him, Alderman, the people in the Mahgyi Market, the intellectuals, and the rubble from the ambush, “I just came to warn you of the immovable horde that seeks…” Ogerius second guesses his decision to expose this most valuable and maybe even harmful information, but he knows he cannot turn back, “I have reason to believe they seek this,” Ogerius, unable to figure out if he regrets not telling them about the orb, reaches in his robes to reveal the crozier concealed within. He grabs the torso sized staff and holds it in both hands, like a noble warrior grasping his sword. Ogerius holds it high, like a shrine in the palms of his hands, and the council moves to the edge of their seats, some at the other end of the wide table leaning over to get a glimpse at the wooden crutch. Almost immediately after the crozier is in appearance, Corlan Nalroc from Nafatook, stands up as if threatened. Ogerius, thinking that Corlan knows what the staff is, grips it tighter and holds it closer to his chest. “Corlan, does this mean anything to you?” asks one of the council members. “Yes. We need to send our fullest soldiery to Hadleigh. We must assume that all of Hadleigh knows of this as well,” Ogerius stands alone wondering what Corlan’s intentions are. Does he know of this staff and the orb? Corlan calls his immediate council members for a quick word without Ogerius’s presence. Ogerius tries to see what Corlan is saying to the council, either by reading his lips or the body language, but nothing comes of it. After Corlan’s few brief statements to the rest of the council, they all turn and stand from their most noble chairs. The council seems anxious and troubled. They go about the room calling all sorts of people and other subsidiary councils and boards, all the while having Ogerius be invisible to them. Ogerius gets a quick look at Alderman’s face, he is stunned. They exchange looks and before Ogeruis can say a word, two guards come to take Alderman away. Confused and worried, Ogerius starts walking toward the doors. “Ogerius!” Cuvvy demands, “Come here!” Ogerius does not move. He looks over at all the commotion that is about the room, and he now knows his fate. Ogerius knows that many capital guards seek him, and there is nothing Ogerius can do about it. No explanations. He only wishes he knows what they think is happening. Cuvvy is in distress, dismissing all of what Ogerius has told him. Two guards constrain Ogerius and another confiscates the crozier, and the last moment of his free life ends with a sneering expression given from Cuvvy Yundoe. A look of disapproval. A look of perfidy. Cuvvy’s grey, gleaming eyes haunt Ogerius as the guards await orders. “Ogerius is to be sent to Bearedahl for the unjust act of treason. No trial or testimony will be awarded to him, instead he will decay in the prison that will hold his treacherous soul for eternity,” “Sir!” Ogerius tries to impede and justify himself, but to the means of the council, Hadleigh has betrayed the Mahgyi Realm. The council disregards what Ogerius has told them about the attack and instead the men rally their troops to lay waste on what is left of Hadleigh. Both Alderman and Ogerius walk down the hall and out of the capital to receive their fate, a life in prison. As Ogerius shamefully walks through the Mahgyi Market, he sees knights and barebire and all sorts of people getting ready swiftly. This could not have gone worse in his head. Not only is he an imprisoned man for which his friends believe him to have committed treason, his entire home land is being accused of treason. Men march not only throughout the Mahgyi Market but throughout the Mahgyi Realm. The council has little knowledge of the Divinitus but knows its power. They have assembled all the militia that entails the realm to eliminate one of the nine cities. The Mahgyi Realm prepares for battle…