Tag Archives: Bardulf

Jasmine Snippet #63

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The Story of Jasmine Notes continue:

Ildshoii Castle, carved from shiny black obsidian rock, rose high above a crown of volcanos. The dark castle was the domain of Melantha, the ruler of Medrylthorn. The Fire Queen possessed the patience of a spider. Not only did Melantha control the volcanic lands of Medrylthorn, her invisible web of evil stretched across the Mid-Realm, reaching towards Bardulf’s strongholds to the south east. She had only to pull on certain threads of her intricately woven network to discover details about the plans of her enemies.

Ildshoii castle card from the “Jasmine: The Battle for the Mid-Realm” collector card game by DARLENE

Her magic fed upon the misery of others. And throughout her patient years of plotting, her magic only got stronger. Although the penetration of her poisonous plans had been slow, methodical and thorough, there were those who could still resist her. Those lands Melantha could not control, she surrounded with her evil, watching – always watching – for a vulnerable weakness to present itself.

Though she could not directly effect the splendid Kingdom of UR, she knew her magic could. She manipulated an ambitious upstart by the name of Bardulf. He did not know she considered him as one of her many minions. She provided him with the magical means to be successful in his bid to defeat UR’s king and it amused her to give him the title, “Prince of Darkness.”

Melantha was very aware of Bardulf’s blunder concerning the disappearance of the King’s daughter. Subsequently, this meant the “Prince” would encounter trouble in totally securing his rule. But that was not immediately important to her. As far as Melantha was concerned, UR was already hers.

Melantha’s interest returned to the Armildian battlemaidens, whose iron will proved to be difficult to subdue. She laughed at how well she thwarted the Armildian’s attempt to seek UR’s assistance. The fall of UR happened just before the Armildian Ambassador could reach the Kingdom. Because these battle maidens seldom lost, she savored their disappointment, imagining with glee the distraught looks on their faces when they learned of this set-back.

But they were not yet caught within her web. The Armildians were clever and resourceful. They would try to seek help elsewhere, maybe Dockalfar. If perchance, their ambassador succeeded in making an agreement with the Ice King in Tarrent, Melantha would surely face fierce resistance. She would make doubly sure her spy could be trusted.

Her deliberations were interrupted by the appearance of one of her demon ministers. Without looking at him, she asked “What news have you for me today?”

© 2018 DARLENE

I AM A FAN of “THE STORY OF JASMINE”

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Jasmine Snippet #37

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The “Story of Jasmine” notes continue:

Bardulf wasn’t the only one secretly seeking the princess of UR. Although he claimed to have her hidden within his Castle Swartzborg, some were beginning to wonder why Bardulf had not yet made a public spectacle of marriage to immediately legitimize his hold on UR. The thought of this made the conquered Urian population shudder. There was idle speculation — bordering on hope — that the princess somehow escaped Bardulf’s clutches. Few in the Kingdom of UR wanted to believe she had actually been killed.

Despite the cold reception Prince Ahearn of Dockalfar received when he visited Eiodel on that lamentable visit, a fortnight ago, he felt honor-bound to discover the truth regarding the whereabouts of King Aranbrod’s daughter. Where was Princess Flavia of UR? He was determined to find out.

The first thing he did was to dress himself as inconspicuously as possible. He hid his black armor and that of his horse and donned the appearance of a mercenary. Ahearn liked the disguise. This meant he could still have his weapon handy.

He meant to infiltrate Bardulf’s largest castle, Swartzborg, to discover if she was being held there.

(Need a description of his trip to the enemy fortress and how he discovers she’s not there).

© 2018 DARLENE

 

Jasmine Snippet #36

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Notes for “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

It took Rogan two days to reach The Great White Throne. The unearthly glow served as a beacon to guide him. As he neared the ruins, he passed many stone statues. The thought occurred to him that these statues appeared to be too new to be gracing an ancient temple. But he wasted no more thoughts pondering this anomaly.

When his horse finally reached the periphery of the temple, Rogan was amazed to find the entire area littered with the same type of statuary. All were frozen in various gestures of surprise and fear. Then, for the first time Rogan became concerned. They looked like soldiers.

Could these statues once have been men … perhaps, maybe Bardulf’s men? This, he was about to find out.

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*I need to figure out just how far away the mountain shrine is to the village. I’m leaning towards one half a day’s walk for Jasmine, but much faster on a horse.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #33

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Notes for “The Story of Jasmine” continue:

Vallenwain* was a village not distant from the Blue Mountains and the Crystal Hollows. It was well known for its hospitality towards weary travelers. And it chanced that on one autumn day, a man and his companion entered Vallenwain to pass the night. The innkeeper, being a talkative affable soul, entered into ready conversation. Then he asked if the man’s female companion had hair of a blonde color.

Dumbfounded by such an unusual query, the stranger looked at his companion, who pulled the hood of her cloak from her head. Unruly coal-black tresses fell about her shoulders. “Tell me, innkeeper,” she said coldly, “must I be blonde to pass the night under your roof?”

“No, no, no, indeed, lady,” the inn keeper replied quickly, “everyone is welcomed here. And it is a blessing ye are dark of hair.”

“And why would this be?” the red-haired stranger asked.

“Woe to any man who hath a daughter or a beloved who is blonde of hair. They are taken from their homes and families by soldiers from down south. They were only here this morning and now three village maidens are lost to us, sisters… Will you be staying one night?”

After all arrangements for their stay had been completed and after dinner was served, the stranger, who gave his name as Rogan, asked who the soldiers belonged to. To that, the bartender exclaimed, “Why Bardulf, of course!”

“Bardulf?”

“Ye must have traveled far indeed not to know about the treachery of Bardulf. They call him ‘the dark prince’ and two seasons past, he’s defeated the great Kingdom of UR. His treachery stretches far.”

The dark-haired maiden interrupted, “What news of King Aranbrod?”

After a moment’s hesitation, the man answered, “Some say his heart broke when he heard his daughter was bedded to this man against her will. Some say he escaped from his own dungeon in Aer and hopes to raise an army against his usurper. There are many rumors. But no one knows the truth for sure save the King himself.”

The woman closed her eyes and sighed. Rogan shook his head, “Sad news, indeed.” He said, then asked, “Tell me, friend, are Bardulf’s men still in this village?”

The bartender answered, “Not any more. Most traveled back south with our village maids in tow. The rest remained to investigate what’s happening at The Great White Throne, a mountain not far from here. There’s an ancient temple that rests in the seat of that mountain. Everyone here knows well enough to stay away from that place.”

The bartender then told them of the strange rumors floating about regarding a maiden in white who showed up several days ago at the temple shrine. This coincided with an eerie glow coming from the mountain. He told them that some in the village believed that a wondrous maiden rekindled the magic of that forbidden place. The man added, “None in Vallenwain would betray her presence, but for a few pieces of gold, an old warrior-dwarf agreed to guide them to her.”**

Rogan thanked him for his time and his news and retired to his appointed chamber.***

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*elsewhere called Oxted

**This last sentence makes no sense to me. It must refer to Glynn. I wonder what I was thinking back then.

*** In another bit of writing, I have Thorne informing Rogan of this news, but don’t have the actual conversation.

This seems to be a slightly alternate version from the posting yesterday.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #30

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The last shrill cries of the swifts died down as the sun dipped below the horizon. From the window of his room at the Inn, Rogan surveyed the blue-gray valley beyond the city walls. He idly inspected the orange tiled roofs of Oxted, then directed his gaze further past the city. Rogan admired the white rock of a not-too-distant mountain and how it reflected the pink orange glow of the setting sun. “That’s the mountain they were talking about,” thought Rogan, “it does look like a Great White Throne.” The Innkeeper also told him that an ancient temple occupied the “seat” of the throne, adding nobody had ventured the climb in all his years there.

His contemplation was interrupted by the sudden entrance of his traveling companion. Entering brisky, Thorne found the first thing she could see, a small porcelain bowl on a side bench, and smashed it against the wall. The fragments fled between the cracks of the wooden floor. Rogan closed the shutters as Thorne paced the floor. Then she told him the grim news she had gathered, “It is confirmed, UR has been taken!”

Rogan sighed as he sat down. “Not only that, it was taken by someone called Axewolf. They say he holds UR by magic but will legitimize his rule through marriage to UR’s princess, whom he’s captured. It’s only a matter of time.”

Thorne kicked the chair, “So that destroys my errand. By all accounts, Bardulf is a cruel and wicked master. He will never come to the aid of another country.”

“He may or may not help us.” Rogan answered, lighting an oil lamp. He adjusted the wick, the flame’s reflection grew in Thorne’s dark and angry eyes.

Thorne got up and replied with contempt, “If you beg favors from a barbarian as a diplomat, you are a great fool and no friend of mine!”  She started pacing the floor, looking like a caged animal. She tugged at her chamis, “Curses—these clothes bind so. I wonder how maidens manage. Just get me back into my armor and my sword and let ME deal with Bardulf!”

“Hush!” Rogan warned, “Keep it down. Do not speak so rashly and so loud. Tomorrow, we will make alternate plans.”

Thorne plopped herself onto the chair and began tugging at her dress in disgust. Rogan watched her silently. In that frock, she looked weak, perhaps even helpless. But would be deceiving and far from the truth. Thorne was not a trifle. In fact, she was a force to be reckoned with. She could master a sword as well as he. Before his eyes was a first-rate Armildian Battle maiden and one with an important mission. Thorne was an ambassador on an errand for her country. Her diplomatic errand was furtive. Its secrecy prevented her from marching along with dignity in her customary armor.

Thorne’s frustration at her manner of dress amused Rogan. But he sympathized with her when it came to not being able to wear her sword. He knew she concealed at least one knife.

“I saw soldiers today.” Rogan remarked at length.

“Yes, Bardulf’s men after something up the mountain,” Thorne replied. Rogan opened the shutters to take another look at the mountain. It still glowed dully against the evening sky. “Do you know what they want?”

“Very strange…” she answered, “I believe they are looking for a maiden in white.” Rogan responded by pulling on his cloak.

Thorne announced, “I’m returning to my room. I guess I’ll speak with you in the morning. By the way, climbing rocks at night is not recommended.”

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #29

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Back to hand-written notes for “The Story of Jasmine”:

Small ink sketch of Bardulf.

Even in chains as his prisoner, the King of UR had a commanding presence when he spoke, “You are only the bastard son of a Lord.”

“I may be a bastard, but I am a resourceful one.” He countered, “I’ve managed to ‘inherit’ many things. But I find my fiefdom completely lacking in resources. It’s a wasteland—too barren, too poor, and much too small for a man of my ambitions. I rather like your land and country and I mean to possess it, completely—just like I possess your daughter.”

“What have you done with my daughter?”

“For the moment, your dear daughter is safely within my custody. But soon, very soon, she will become my wife and the Queen of UR. Isn’t that the best all round for everyone concerned? So now, dear old dad, the way you handle this situation will determine my bride’s complete happiness. No man really wants his daughter to suffer, does he?”

“You will not harm her…”

“And deny you the chance of a royal heir?”

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #28

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The typed notes from The Story of Jasmine continue:

As Arlet pulled away from him, Ermengarde stepped up, “Keep you hands off her, or I’ll make the sky rain fire!”

“You’ll what?” He said calmly.

“I’ll make hundreds of lightening balls fall from the sky, burning everything they touch. Let us be on our way and no fire storm will harm you!”

Bardulf’s men grew uneasy, but Bardulf remained impassive. “Alright,” he said, “make it rain!”

For a moment, Ermengarde thought of casting a spell. But she knew Bardulf’s purpose was to draw her out. He still had the upper hand. Her best and only chance was to continue her act. She closed her eyes to muster the energy to burst into foolish tears.

“Oh Bardulf,” she wailed, “you was right. Erlkyng left me with nothing. The only thing I have left is my duty to protect this child. Please don’t harm her.” Ermengarde held Arlet to her breast and stroked her silky blonde hair.

“Bring Grishnack,” Bardulf commanded to one of his men.

Then he studied his captives. “Princess Arlet,” he said, “look at me.” Arlet’s head turned underneath Ermengarde’s gentle hold. When she looked at him, he continued, “tell me, has your nurse, Ermengarde here, has she practiced magic?”

Arlet looked up at her nurse-companion with bewilderment in her widened eyes, “Ermengarde?”

At that moment, the man whom Bardulf summoned, bowed before his master. Ermengarde recognized him from the Court of UR. He answered Bardulf’s muffled questions and departed. “Lord Grishnack informs me that you have, indeed, raised Arlet since her infancy.”

“She is like my own child.” Ermengard replied.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #27

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The typed “Story of Jasmine” notes continue:

Upon the completion of the kiss, Ermengarde was prepared to act. But her concentration was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a strange flying lizard with leathery wings. The little beast landed on Bardulf’s shoulder and made a startling noise. Arlet screamed and pushed herself away from Bardulf and the creature perched upon his right shoulder. The kiss and the spell had ended.

Arlet turned, wide-eyed and frightened, looking for an escape. “Ermengarde!” Arlet called frantically.

“I am here, child,” Ermengarde replied as Arlet hastened to her guardian’s side.

“Ermengarde?” Bardulf said quizzically, “Wait. I know that voice… No, you’re not Ermengarde…” His men, with weapons drawn, pressed in closer upon Ermengarde and her charge. Bardulf laughed. “Ah, yes, I remember,” Bardulf began, “you are Erlkyng’s witch! I wondered what became of you after the old fellow disappeared.” Bardulf walked towards his captives.

As Ermengarde watched him near, she understood the time for magic had passed. This was no charlatan. She would have to rely on guile instead. This man must believe she posed no threat. If she had completely lost her power, how would she act? She would bluff. If she had no powers, she would boast of her great strength.

“So,” Bardulf said, stroking the head of his lizard-creature with a gloved hand, “you want me to believe you are nothing but a powerless old nurse?”

“And YOU want me to believe you have become powerful without an apprenticeship to Erlkyng.”

Bardulf laughed, “So you DO remember.” Bardulf’s laughter grew cold, “I remember too. I was in ernest in my request to learn from that old wizard. And what was it he said to me? To come back when I had learned humility? I was a talented lad. He never even took the time to test me. You call that fair? And I remember you, staring at me with that smug look, telling me humility was a hard lesson, but a necessary one. I hated that smug voice of yours as much as your words. Humility!”

“Humility IS a hard lesson,” Ermengarde interrupted.” She spoke from experience, remembering the sixteen years she posed as a nursemaid, allowing her beauty to be hidden. She added, “and it’s a lesson you still haven’t learned.”

Bardulf looked at her directly and spoke with conviction, “I know what I am and I know what I am capable of doing. Why be humble when opportunities like this one present itself?” By this time, Bardulf was close enough to stroke Arlet’s cheek with the side of his finger. “You know, you do kiss beautifully,” he said to her.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #26

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The typed “Story of Jasmine” notes continue:

Ermengarde felt a powerful sensation in her belly. The energy shift warned her they were nearing their destination: the dark prince and his magic. Ermengarde started her maneuver by slouching on her horse and wailing loudly. She called to the princess who had rode ahead, “Oh m’ lady, please have pity on an old woman whose bones is aching. Please slow down, miss. I cannot keep up with you…”

Her pleas managed to slow Arlet a pace. As they proceeded, Ermengarde noticed some men watching them from the shadows and branches of the surrounding trees. “Please m’ lady,” she cried, knowing their destination was almost upon them, “can’t we stop now?”

Just then, several men appeared from the shadows and some dropped from the treetops. They were quick in subduing the startled horses. “Oh, oh,” Ermengarde called pitifully, “what’s this?” he men laughed as they lead the horses off the main road onto a small path. They had only travelled a short ways before Ermengarde saw the telltale signs of a military encampment.

When they stopped, Arlet was helped from her horse. Ermengarde was still on her mount when the dark prince approached. He was dressed handsomely in black. When she saw his features, Ermengarde gasped. She knew this man instantly. The years had not changed the glisten in Bardulf’s black eyes and time only enhanced his cruel smile. It was a mistake to have completely dismissed him from her mind.

She slowly dismounted, hoping to be inconspicuous. But all eyes were on Arlet, who walked slowly, but purposefully, towards the prince. Bardulf’s lips curled in a horrid, arrogant smile. When he opened his arms, Ermengarde shuddered. His black cloak reminded her of a bat extending its wings.

Still in a daze, Arlet walked into his outstretched arms and was swallowed by the blackness of his cloak closing tightly around her. Ermengarde counted the moments. She could act if the spell was broken by the embrace. But she knew her hope was foolish when Bardulf drew Arlet into a deep, sustained kiss.

© 2018 DARLENE

Jasmine Snippet #23

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The notes for The Story of Jasmine continue:

Melantha, from unpublished Installment #13

With great interest Melantha, the Fire Queen of Ildshoii watches Bardulf-Thaattur’s plotting. Her passion is power and she fears nothing. Melantha’s web stretches unseen from the volcanic spires of Ildshoii outward to the unsuspecting Mid-realm.

She waits with infinite patience to ensnare the next victim in her glittering web. Attracted by the ruthless power of the dark prince, she plans her entrapment and conquest. “Bardulf-Thaatur, Axewolf of the Darkness,” she muses upon his name, “I like that.”

Just as a black orchid is seductive and exotic, Queen Melantha’s beauty knows a delicateness unsurpassed. Even so, her deceptive nature is cruel as well as cunning. Her dark eyes betray the reptilian passions and instincts of her black soul. Her lips twist in a smile of satisfaction. As long as her soul is locked away in a secret place, she will remain forever beautiful, forever terrible, forever deadly, forever Queen!

Her train of thought is interrupted by her Captain, who has come to make a report before her. “What can this mean?” She says to herself, reacting to the news, “He has succeeded in the taking of UR, yet he hesitates to kill UR’s King… because of what? His daughter? Can this princess, Flavia, mean more to him than conquest?” Her eyes burning with contempt, she addresses the Captain, “His lust will not interfere with my plans. Kill her!”

Suddenly, her fury subsides and her fiery temper melts onto a thoughtful gaze, “No. Wait — perhaps I can USE her…”

She saunters toward the window and looks southward and whispers to herself, “Yes-s-s-s. Axe-wolf, my Love — with this girl, I shall discover your passions and your weaknesses — and when I do, I shall devour you both… “

Turning away from the window, she commands, “Captain, find this Princess of UR and report to me her every move.”

© 2018 DARLENE