Redes and Rhymes

So I had this 'translated' for Derrick/Shogun around Christmastime, and I thought y'all might like to take a look at it. Enjoy!






Derrick's Family Journal


First Entry:

This is the journal of Effram of the Ironore Clan, Freeman. I take with me my brothers Ely and Ian and three men of the Silverore Clan, Freemen all. We travel the deep caverns in search of the truth. Strange, hideous beasts have been seen in the upper reaches of the mines. They have stolen our women and killed our men. We go to rescue who we can and exact our revenge on those we can't. We have known of the existence of these strange half-man, half-nightmare creatures for many years, but as they have never harmed us, we let them be. Now, however, we must take action. The foreman of the Deep has granted us our freedom, and that of our children and our children's children, down through the ages, if we complete this task.

I was sentenced to life at hard labor in the mines for joining with my brothers in a bloodfeud against the Wolfsblade Clan. The murderers of my sister are now dead and now my skills with a blade will again serve me in good stead.

. . . Later . . .

This day ends our third week down in the depths of the caverns. We entered rock today that was not carved by human hands. I know of no such tool that could shape rock this way. It's unnatural and makes me nervous.

. . . Later . . .

We ran into a pack of . . . things today. Among them was a young child, a girl, and though she looked human, she set upon us, not as her rescuers, but as enemies. She had two rows of tiny, needle-sharp teeth and she savagely mauled Ely before I could stike her down. We're in the midst of the things now, creatures no taller than my elbow, and I am no giant. They have huge, bulging eyes, long, sharp-tipped ears, and nails that can be shaped into claws at a moment's notice. Their skin is very pale, they are bow-legged, and their arms are longer in proportion to their body. They do not need light to see by and they wear only a small bit of cloth about their loins. All that we have encountered are male and they smell like rotting flesh. We saw them devour each other in the midst of battle, a sickening sight, but one that enabled our surprise encounter this day.

. . . Later . . .

There must have been something diseased or poisonous about those creatures' fangs, for Ely's arm has swelled to a great size and he is wracked by fevers and chills. I fear for him and for us all, for these tunnels are a maze and Ely is the only one among us skilled as a mapmaker.

. . . Later . . .

Ian stayed with Ely today whilst the rest of us continued along the tunnel. We desperately needed fresh water, but if I'd known what were to happen, mayhap I would have waited and trusted to fate. As it were, we did find water, a small trickle that tasted foul, but we filled our bottles anyway, we were that desperate. The tunnel we followed ended at a cave-in and so we re-traced our steps, only, we found our camp torn apart and fouled. Only grisly remains indicated where my brother had fought bravely and died. Ely, however, appeared to have been taken. There was evidence that the creatures dragged something back with them. That they hadn't continued after the Silverore clansmen and myself was puzzling. Still, we built a cairn about was left of Ian, gathered what we could salvage of our gear, and started off down the trail.

. . . Later . . .

The burden they dragged made it easy for us to track them, and we caught up to them this morning. They stopped in a large cavern below us on the trail and we were able to sneak up close on the cliff and observe. There were too many of them to count, so the clansmen and I remained, watching, to see what they would do. In the cavern, they lit a fire and were roasting some meat that I would have been happier to not have identified. In the light of the fire, though, I saw my brother, trussed, but unharmed, and I felt a great surge of hope. Perhaps we would get him out of there alive yet.

We weren't waiting long before something approached out of one of the connecting tunnels. It was a man, I thought at first, but then I saw the wings. Shining white, they were, like new-fallen snow. An angel! What was an angel doing working with the likes of these creatures? But he listened as the creatures babbled at him and he walked over to my brother. He looked at Ely and then said something to the waiting creatures that made them all cower to the ground and whimper. Then he left, returning from whence he came.

The Silverore clansmen and I had a hasty conference. These monsters were certainly searching for someone, and that person was not my brother, which put him in danger. We determined to charge down there and steal him back. Perhaps fortunately for us, we were interrupted in our plans by an approaching pack of more of the things. Quickly, before we could be discovered, we darted over the edge of the cliff and clung there, breathing as softly as we could. I was afraid that we'd be seen instantly by the group below when they looked up to see who approached, but the distance must have sheltered us in the dark.

To our surprise and dismay, the creatures were a war-party, with captives. I recognized one of the Copperore miners, a great, ugly brute with a scar on his face that made him impossible to mistake. They ate him first. We were horrified, but there were now over fifty of the creatures and they guarded their captives well, for the women and children seemed to be of great importance to them.

. . . Later . . .

We followed the creatures when they left the cavern, going down the same path as the angel yesterday. There were many tunnels branching off from the one we followed, and the goblins (for that's what we decided to call them) split off into groups as we advanced until only a small party remained to guard and shepherd the prisoners. Then we made our move. We had to be swift and silent and in this the remaining prisoners helped us. We recovered five men and a dozen women and children, and my brother. There were some wounds among us, but luckily one of the women was a skilled herbalist and she was able to keep away the infection that had caused my brother's deadly illness.

The women were in bad shape, and the children fared worse, so we dragged the bodies of the slain into one of the side tunnels and fled at the best pace we could manage, which was not at all swift. While we rested, the herbalist came to me and told me things which froze the blood in my veins. I learned that this party was from Lake Camp, a small settlement of Freemen along the banks of the underground lake which fed the river along which all the other camps made their homes. Lake Camp was taken completely by surprise by the attack and the prisoners had lost track of the number of days they'd been marching. The goblins had feasted after the battle, and had apparently brought the male prisoners along to eat on the way. While the herbalist couldn't understand the goblin language, she said it was only too apparent to her what was intended for them when one of the women was discovered by the goblins to be pregnant. That was her daughter, Tina. She begged me to go back and find her for she had been hoisted on a litter and carried off, not to be seen again. I told her I would see what I could do, but I had no hope for the girl and she had not ought to be optimistic, either.

. . . Later . . .

We've had to fight for every league on our way out of the tunnels. There is no chance of rescuing Tina now. Or so I thought. Today during the battle, something dropped off the ceiling into the pack of goblins blocking our way. It was too dark to see clearly, but the battle soon turned into a rout as the remaining goblins turned and fled. My men, and the women who fought with us, fell back to help the wounded and I went forward, with our last torch. My jaw about hit the floor when I saw who it was. An angel! And, though I had seen the other as mostly shadows, I was sure that this one was the spitting image of the other; the only difference was that this angel had wings so dark a green that they seemed almost black in the flickering light. He was in bad shape, too, and seemed hardly able to keep his feet. More surprising, he reached up above his head, into a hidden cleft in the wall, and set a very pregnant young woman down at my feet. When she saw me, she began to cry. The angel knelt beside her and whispered something that calmed her. Then he asked me to take her with me.

"But what of you?" I asked him. He told me that it was too dangerous for him to remain with us and that he would be better spent leading away our pursuers. I could certainly see the logic in that, but at the same time I could also see that, were this angel to go off on his own, that he could hardly hold them back for long. In his condition, he'd be too easily overcome. And so I pressed him and at great length he agreed to stay with us.

When our torch went out later, the angel led the way for a while, for his eyes could pierce the gloom, but still our progress slowed. Calling a halt, the angel put his hands together around a handful of stones. Light shone briefly from between his fingers and when he opened his hands, he gave to us six glowing, jade-green jems, about the size of a child's fist. These we then fastened to what we could devise in order to light the way.

. . . Later . . .

Ely died today. Not from any wound, but from the fever that has raged inside him for all these countless days. There wasn't material enough to build a cairn and so we were forced to leave him behind. From the sounds that pursued us, the goblins ate him, too, which bought us a few minutes' time to increase our distance.

The angel was certainly right about the determination of the goblins toward his capture. We've met increased resisitance and but for the angel's heightened senses we could not possibly have gotten this far. From what I can tell, he has no need of sleep and keeps watch while we rest. That troubles me, that so much must rest upon his shoulders, but I am too weary now to argue.

. . . Later . . .

We are almost out, I can smell fresh air from somewhere up ahead. We are harried at every turn now, and yet we must wait, wait while Tina gives birth. It is too soon, her mother tells us, but that cannot be helped now. The hardships of our flight is bringing the child into the world regardless.

The angel is a fiercesome fighter, worth at least ten men. He calls a thin, light rod, with sharp blades on each end, into existence before every battle. Where it comes from I do not know, but there is a strain for him to use that magic. He never seems to tire, though, and we've been grateful to each other on many occassions. He even gave me his name, which, as I understand, is a great honor. He also gave me something else.

One of the war parties we fought brought with them a great big, hulking thing, with one eye in the center of its forehead and a stench even worse than that of the goblins, something I hadn't considered as possible until we saw this thing. It carried two finely wrought sledges, which the angel gifted to me upon slaying the beast, my sword having long since been lost. When we'd first found the angel, he'd had nothing with him, not even clothing. We gave him some of what we had and I later gave him my brother's clothing, as they were close in size. I could not see how that, little as it was, could be worth the sledges, not on top of the glowing stones, but he insisted and, flabbergasted as I was at the time, I could only stammer my thanks.

. . . Later . . .

To our horror, Tina's babe lived, but it is deformed and hideously ugly, resembling the goblins in many ways, an ugly parody of a human being. I would have killed the babe instantly, but the angel forbid it, saying the babe was innocent and had not yet been perverted to evil, whatever it may look like. Tina has named him Derrick, after his slain father. One can only hope that Derrick will never sire children of his own.

. . . Later . . .

We said goodby to the angel today. We made it at last out into the sunshine and he sealed the passageway behind us. Then he bid us flee, for here he would leave us and the manner of such would bring his enemies down upon us. Well I could believe that! In the daylight he looked even worse than I'd imagined. He'd refused to speak of what had happened, but under the grime and battle wounds, it was easy enough to guess. Torture. Had to be. Why else pluck the feathers from a flying thing? There were patterns of wounds that left huge bruises that could only have been inflicted by someone who wanted to cause pain but not mutilation. He seemed to gather some store of energy from the fresh air and sunlight, for he stopped limping and thanked me profusely and wished me well. He gave a blessing upon the child and then bade us leave.

I recognized where we were upon the Fire Berry Mountains from the long trek there some years ago, and so I took the weary group down the mountain to a secure hiding place where we could rest. Late that afternoon, there was a brief, and very sudden, thunderstorm. Lightning struck the side of the mountain twice and I knew that the angel was gone.

. . .

The rest goes on to tell how they returned to the mines and convinced the foreman to order the blockage of the 'deep ways.' Effram and the others return to Lake Camp and fortify the town, which grows and prospers. Effram later realizes he's in love with Tina and marries her, adopting her son, the dwarf Derrick. When he dies, the journal, and the sledges, pass into his safe-keeping.