Chapter 21 (Raw)

The tavern was very lively with jazz bands and villagers who were filling their gutty bellies full of mead and ale. Like Alaska, back in Midgard, the northernmost of the continent were Riverside was located, there was no twilight and darkness of the night. During this time of season, the tavern was open twenty-four seven. Kegs and flagons were stored in the storage room where Ayame and her party avoided company of bartenders and customers.

Ayame Akasuki is a modern day Japanese Samurai from Midgard. Her birth place was Kyoto Japan. She is seventeen years of age. Her family is the secret Akatsuki Clan. A clan of risen samurai warriors that was founded thirty five years ago and became one of the newer international branches of GoM. The CIA (Central Intelligence Agency) and the Ministeris of Japan. Her parents and Stan were well acquainted with on another. At the age of twelve, Ayame's parents were assassinated.

Her uncle Sato Akatsuki became the head and patriarch of the clan. Ayame trained in Kenjustu. The Way of The Sword nearly her entire life.

They sat at a round table made out of timber. Mugs of ale were filled, although Cassandra was not in the mood to drink ale. Instead, she drank one cup of tea she brought from Midgard. She thank Patty, the tavern owner for helping her smuggling a cargo that she was about to discuss with her comrades. She waited patiently has the hungry dwarfs and halfing helped themselves with supper and a mug filed with mead. Good spirits they were in.

“A fine mead! A fine meal!” Grundi chorused. “Me want more! More!” He pounds his cup on the table.

The room erupted with laughter, all except Ayame. Time was against her. She knew it would be a matter of time before Blackhaven discovered the location of Kentucky preserve. She cringed thinking what would became of her friend's only son Eddie Ferguson. Knowing that Blackhaven's foolish endeavor to seek out and capture all Elder Dragons, they will never stop hunting him until their goal has been achieved. She knew that Eddie's soul is bound to the dragon's life force.

She hear enough of the dwarfs' bickering and Draco's whining. She reminded herself why she came back to the forgotten realms. Picking up a silver spoon, she tinkled the side of her glass teacup. Everyone stopped there festive activities and gave their full attention to her.

“There will plenty of time for chattering. Times of the essence,” she sighed. “I gathered you all here individually because I received grim news from the Grandmaster. As of know, its been nearly twenty seven hours since the intergalactic breach, which revolves around the Grandmaster's grandson, Edward Mathew Ferguson (Eddie's full birth name) . There seems to be many leaks. Whoever leaked confidential information about the boy being a vessel to one of the legendary elder dragons put this boy in grave danger.

“Blackhaven, as we speak is on a manhunt to hunt down Edward, and I'm afraid times is not on our side. We need to know the exact location of their guildhall and headquarters if were are to mount a cohesive operation to eradicate Blackhaven.”

“We will need clearance from the council. The council forbids all legit guilds to wage war against rogue guild without provocation or clearance from Arkon,” Draco retorted.

“Bring them on! I prefer we take the fight'in to them!” Grundi boosted.

“Me fight'in too. Me swords dis crave'in for some Blackhave'in blood!” Thorbal said.

“For Alphonse and Edward, we dwarfs march into battle . . . I say!”

“This is unacceptable! We will be force to disband and be sentence to the gallows or be thrown into the lion's pit! Exiled at best from Vanahiem! ” Draco said with such frustration. “We cannot go against the council's decree, my lady!”

Ayame's knitted her brows, crossed her arms and sternly look on with stoicism. Thorbal smirked mischievously, whipping his lips free of mead.

“Isn't that right? No combat experience . . . heh,” he spat. “Pack ya belong'ins and march all the way back to Yakshire where thou belong and continue to plow the cornfields if thou scare of ya wits to get ya hands dirt'eh,” he and his dwarfish comrades chorused in laughter.

“This is the reason why I don't work and associate with his kind on a daily basis. They have no formal manner to society. They bark like stinky dogs and charge in without a cohesive strategy. It's a bloody miracle these dwarf still exist.”

In a way she agreed with Draco. They do have a foul lack of manners but in a festive way. However, you would never find a more loyal and brave brother-band of warrior in the Eights Worlds other than the dwarfs. The would fight to the death down to the last woman and child.

“Halfling! Me dare ya call me a stinky mutt one more! Thou find me fist down ya throat!”

“That's enough,” she hammered her fist onto the table, dishes and utensils vibrated in unison. “I did not summon you guys here to throw a bar fight! I suggest you dwarfs get along with Draco,” she the broke the stupor with her fake cough. “As I was saying prior to this farce, we need to know the exact location of their guildhall.”

Ayame rummaged with the pocket of her her inner winter cloak an pulled out an transparent a jaded scroll. The etching of runes from the Old Norse language were written on the parchment. The dwarfs were awestruck while Draco's mouth dropped agape. He knew that object too well with many years of tutelage under master Wuton's training. This was magical scroll that is able to create portals that was powerful enough for one person to travel across the universe from one end to another within just a blink of an eye.

The jaded scroll seidr was more of reverse summoning spell than a teleportation spell that can grant the user and their traveling to any precise location to a person, place or a thing. As long as there were no potent anti teleportation and summoning array active in the selected area.

Draco knitted his brows. He was shock.

“Where! Where did you get that? If I'm not mistaken, that's the Gate of Death. That is some series dark and forbidden Seidr parchment. It requires a sacrificial ceremony.”

“I visited the Whispering Sister.” Every male present sucked in breath with grim expression. “The Gate of Death parchment has been forged by the sisters. A sacrificial ceremony is not needed.”

“What they asked in return?” Draco asked solemnly. “Not only that it was a bloody miracle you sealed a deal and escaped with your life. I hope you are aware that of the consequences of sealing a deal.”

“That I can't disclose that.”

“By Thor's Hammer! What have you done! Not even master can save you from the Whispering Sister and Arkon.”

“Fret not, Draco. If word gets out, your master will take full responsibility for the spell as I will take full responsibility for this operation. It is all thanks to Wotun notifying to King Rurik that our guild has been provoked by Blackhaven. I now have his support. We will not be judge without a fair testimony.”

Draco sighed, glancing at his three dwarfish companions, still seated at the table. “Clear the table! Secure any lose objects! This could get rough.”

They prepared. Draco weaved an soundproof spell that prevented any noise from leaving the basement. Ayame laid the Gate of Death parchment onto the table. Draco waved his staff, mumbling a few phrases in Old-English, vaguely audible. The staff's head danced and bobbed over the parchment as it was resonating with wight light. The lanterns started to dim and faded black. Bolts of electricity ravaged its way from within the parchment, lashing out at anything in its way. The table was set ablaze. An ultra violet sinister energy residue, shrouded the parchment.

Whirlwinds blew violently, everyone except Draco took cover under the rounded table as it rocked from the relenting winds and powerful soaring bolts. Follow after that was a loud boom and hard thump above them. Power was restored to the lanterns. The smell of burnt timber permeated the air. Ayame was first to her feet. Her eye felled upon the charred table. It was inscribed with the texts, written in Old-English. The halfling fainted. The dwarfs crawled frantically to his aid.

“Halfling! Don't go pass'n out on me,” Grundi slapped his cheeks.

“Leave him be. He's exhausted from mana depletion.” she said it apprehensively.

Just before the parchment activated, a buzzing noise was sounded. The guildhall tattoo each member received upon become an official GoM guild member had special features such as distress calls whenever Dragnar's Reach or the guild was under attack and besieged.

“Clever fools the Darkhaven are,” She snarled as. “We have no choice! Back I must go alone. You three, return to city. Any objections?”

“We dwarfs will follow you to the ends of the great Yggdrasil Tree, if needed” Holgar retorted. “What about the halfling?”

“I'll bring him. His magic be a vital essence in my journey.”

A tremendous fear washed over them. Black misty fumes came oozing out from the charred parchment, spiraling counter clockwise upright. Roars of a thousand lions shook the pup to its foundations. Above the basement, the bewilderment and startled people could rampant about. The Guardians never took their eyes off from the gatekeeper as they watched the black, foul mist manifested into an apparition of a hooded skull of a phantom lord.

It's red menacing eyes held such malevolent of killing intent the they were almost immobilized from the emitting fear. Dark fiends such as ghoul lords, phantoms, wraiths and dragons have magical ability to emit fear among the living. This was no ordinary foe. The apparition took the for of a human skeleton death reaper.

“Guardians of Midgard. You summoned me from my slumber? Make haste or your souls will be devoured.”

“It is I—Ayame Akatsuki.” She quickly retorted before any of the dwarfs could flapped their gums and inappropriately provoked this entity. She never expected I the gate keeper of death to be so aggressive and threaten to devour its summoners' souls.

“I and my companion the halfling wish to be transported to the location of the rogue guild Blackhaven.”

The apparition frowned, “I can't directly take you to the location because that area is guarded with many arrays that conceals its location from the rest of the world. But I can transport you to the nearest location. The Death's Nest.”

“Deaths Nest!” The dwarfs exclaimed in unison.

The apparition dispersed. Its remnants gathered and reformed itself into a portal to the next dimension with a swirling radiant crest of light. Immense bone fingers claws clung the portal's outer rings. The magic of immobilizing phobia subsided. However, the effects of fear still lingered. The brute chill of fear still made them quiver. Ayame had fought in many battles and slayed many fiends and monstrous creatures that had more then enough power to obliterate cities with no difficulty just like taking candy away from a baby.

She had only once experienced fear from charms was a dragon that she and her old friend Cassandra had slain twelve years ago. To counter fear, an alchemist they met in created a set courage potions that increased brevity once the potion has be consumed. Victory over a dragon had cost the lives of her guild-mates and friends. She remembered Alphonse Ferguson nearly got his left leg amputated, due to infections from the dragon's jagged tooth. It was thanks to the elvish medicine that his leg recuperated enough to avoid amputation.

The dwarfs bid her farewell as they head for Dragnar's Reach.

“Ayame, my dear! What in Frigga's great name is going on!” Patty demanded. Her ruby, red as landed on the phantom and her complexion nearly became pale. “Such a sinister seidr.” She trembled.

“I summoning my trip to the location of my enemy. Till we meet again.”

She carried Draco and entered the portal.