Prologue: Mikalis Von Daphni

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1104 AD; Athens, Byzantine Empire.

Mikalis decided to ride past the monastery where his painstaking art would hopefully last forever. As he rode past the monastery he was surprised to see the abbot standing by the gate. Father Obertus waved as he rode nearer and smiled up at him from under his hood. Something about the abbot had always unnerved him. He always seemed to know exactly how Mikalis had felt not to mention he had the habit of seemingly appearing out of thin air to speak to him.

"I see you have decided to leave us after all, Mikalis. Tis' a shame but I understand youth's need to travel and see the world. Perhaps you shall return to us someday a more complete master of art. Please be careful on your travels my son the world is full of predators, human and otherwise."

The last sentence almost seemed to be a warning or perhaps even a threat, but Mikalis had no time to dwell on it as Father Obertus continued.

"I was hoping that you might take this with you. You might not be trained in it's use but perhaps it may still keep you safe."

Reaching under the voluminous robes he extends forth a rather plain looking sword in a sheath to Mikalis as he sits up on the horse.

 

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Re: Prologue: Mikaelis Von Daphni

Mikaelis listens to the abbot, nodding as he speaks, before looking at the sword and blinking several times, before speaking up. "I thank you, Father. For both your gift, and for allowing me to paint upon your monastery." he says, taking the sword and grasping it by the sheath just below the hilt.

"I only wish there were some way for me to repay your kindness to me." he says, tying it to his horses saddle as he bows his head in reverence. "Wish me luck, Father. I shall return soon, and when I do, I hope to paint a true masterpiece for the monastery." he says, smiling as he spurs his horse forward into a trot down the road.

 

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Re: Prologue: Mikaelis Von Daphni

Father Obertus smiled widely as Mikalis took the sword, showing the few diseased teeth he had left in his mouth. Waving as the horse was spurred away he called out almost as if it were a matter of fact that Mikalis would return to them soon. As the horse moved away he took one last look over his shoulder at the monastery to see Father Obertus gone almost as soon he had spoke.

...........................

Many months later Mikalis found himself still traveling, he had finally made his way through the wilds of the Carpathians and found himself entering what must be the lands of Bohemia. At least he believed it to be the lands of Bohemia he felt as though he may be lost after his time among the craggy mist-shrouded peaks of the mountains.

Strangely he had met with no troubles on his trip. Many a night he had sat by his campfire and seen what must have been wolves lurking at the edge of the light. However they had left him and his steed untouched almost as if they had been ordered to leave him alone by some unseen master. The people of the villages he passed through acted strangely as well. None would deal with him anymore than to provide him with what was necessary.

Still he had made it and was now entering into what seemed more peaceful lands. As the sun began sinking down over the mountains that he was leaving behind he found himself nearing a handful of brightly painted wagons. The wagons were circled around a blazing fire and the sounds of gypsy music came to him. Further off in the distance he could see the outline of a castle against the sky.

 

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As Mikaelis neared the caravan, he began to pull off the road, approaching them slowly and sitting up as straight as he could in the saddle. As he neared, he heard the gypsy music and tilted his head slightly, the sound seeming to grasp him and pull him in closer. Once he had arrived at the edge of the caravan, he dismounted his horse and slowly strode over towards the campfire, intent on asking if he could join them for the night.

 

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Re: Prologue: Mikaelis Von Daphni

A couple of brightly painted wagons sat in a small clearing off to the side of the road with a blazing bonfire in the center. Around the fire sits five gypsy men playing on their instruments and singing happily while on of their womenfolk dances around the fire.

As soon as Mikalis alights from his horse and begins to walk towards the fire one of the gypsy men rises from beside the fire and waves him over. His long white hair and apparent age suggests him to be the leader of the small band as he calls out in a language unknown to Mikalis while the other gypsies continue to play their music.

"Přijďte k nám, příteli."

 

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Mikaelis tries his best to grin, but when the gypsy begins speaking a strange language, he hesitates, then clears his throat, speaking softly. "I beg your pardon, good sir, but might I have a brief respite at your camp?" he asks, knowing full well that none of them probably spoke his language, and trying to make hand gestures to convey his point.

 

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Re: Prologue: Mikaelis Von Daphni

The older man seems to understand that Mikalis doesn't understand his language and calls in his foreign tongue to one of the wagons. An older gypsy woman steps from the wagon and after briefly speaking with the man she moves towards Mikalis with her hands held out in a gesture of welcome and addresses him in his native Greek.

"My husband Shandor says you are welcome to share our camp for the night young man. Please make yourself warm at the fire it will keep the evil creatures of the night at bay."

 

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Mikaelis smiles as the older woman speaks, then he bows a grateful gesture "Thank you, miss. And please, thank your husband for me if you would be so kind. The road has been very tiring." he says, then stands and begins to slowly walk towards the fire, before sitting down next to it, keeping his movements slow and deliberate.

 

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The woman speaks to the grandfatherly man who bows his head in welcome as Mikalis joins them by the fire. The others continue with their music seemingly not bothered by their foreign guest. Shortly after the elderly woman returns and offers Mikalis a bowl of delicious smelling soup with a small chunk of crusty bread before taking a seat by her husband.

"Please eat and enjoy yourself as our guest. Despite the evil of this night the fire and company shall keep us safe."

Looking up at the quickly darkening sky he can see the full silvery moon rising in the night sky. Something about it makes him feel very nervous though he knows not why. His horse seems nervous as well as it remains restless where he tied it besides the gypsy horses.

 

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Mikaelis smiles once again as he is offered the food, then begins to eat slowly, stopping after one of his spoonfuls to look up at the sky, a host of foreboding feelings running through him as he then looks down at his bowl of soup and resumes eating in silence. His feelings were often right, but he was as superstitious almost as much as he was an artist, so he believed the sword he carried with him kept him and, in turn, the camp, safe. Still, he could not shake the feeling of dread that hung over him.

 

[dmronny]

Re: Prologue: Mikaelis Von Daphni

After Mikalis has finished eating, the gypsy woman smiles and takes his bowl back to one of the wagons. The music and dancing end as Shandor, the gypsy leader, begins telling some sort of story in his language. The other gypsies sit listening in rapt attention as he speaks to them, meanwhile the woman returns and sits beside Mikalis, leaning in to speak quietly while her husband speaks.

"My husband Shandor is telling a tale of long long ago when his people lived in the land of Egypt. They were driven from that land by vampires who followed a dark god who cursed them so they could never return, now they live as nomads hoping one day to find a way to defeat the curse and return to their homeland. He often tells this tale around the fire on nights such as these when the sky seems so foreboding."

The full moon now shines high in the dark sky casting it's silvery light down on the ground and somewhere Mikalis can hear an owl hooting in the trees. The only other sounds are the crackling of the fire and the old gypsy continuing his tale.

 

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Mikaelis willingly hands over his bowl when he's finished, listening to the story and not understanding a bit of it until Shandor's wife starts explaining it to him. When Vampires come along in the subject, he begins to shiver. "Vampires can't possibly exist, can they? I was taught they were merely tales to frighten children to sleep." he says quietly so as not to disturb the storytelling. He could not shake a feeling that somehow, Shandor was actually telling the truth in his story. Which had him scared to death.

 

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"There is little to fear, young sir, the fire will protect you. The vampires of the tale hated fire because the wyrm fears the light. The vampires serve the wyrm, the corrupt spirits of nature."

It's obvious to Mikalis' ears that the gypsies must follow a pagan tradition of nature worship. Silly myths he tells himself as he sits there staring into the fire and listening. Suddenly the woods erupt with the sounds of howling wolves as if there were several packs around them. The gypsies scramble to their feet and begin throwing more wood onto the fire causing it to burn even brighter.

Strangely Shandor doesn't seem nearly as worried as the others of his extended family. He smiles as though happy to hear the wolves circling the small group in the forests.

 

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Mikaelis huddles himself close, as if trying to withdraw his very body from the world. "You're right. The fire will protect us. But I'm more afraid of those wolves than the fire." he stated, looking about the camp and almost shivering as one of the howls seemed to shake him to his very core. "A fine night to be travelling." he mutters to himself.

 

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Re: Prologue: Mikalis Von Daphni

Shandor holds his hands up and speaks to the other gypsies in his language. The other gypsies seem to calm down immensely at the words of the grandfatherly man. While Mikalis is watching the him speak to the others he can't help but notice how hairy the older man's hands appear, even the palms of his hands appear hairy.

The wolves suddenly break away from the edge of the camp and take off into the woods. The sounds of their howls seem to reverberate off of the trees of the forest as they retreat.

Everyone around the campfire begins to calm down with the departure of the wolves. As Mikalis settles back into a more relaxed state he notices what he at first thinks is the sound of distant thunder. He soon realizes that it can't be thunder as it's too steady. It's the sound of soldiery marching in the camp's direction.

 

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Mikaelis seems to look quizzically at the hairy hands of the old gypsy, though when he hears the wolves retreating, he begins to loosen himself from his clenched ball of fear.

When he hears the thundering, he instinctively reaches back for his cloak, but realizes it's not actual thunder, but soldiers. He gulps, praying that the soldiers weren't on their way to do the gypsies harm.

 

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As if the thunderous sound of hooves and soldiers marching isn't terrifying enough, it begins to sound as if the men are hunting the wolves. The screams and cries of men, together with the marching, and the howling of the wolves gathers together into a horrible cacaphony.

The gypsies are obviously hearing the same sounds as the joyful attitude of the group that he had seen when first coming upon the camp is all but gone now. Shandor with an angry look upon his face growls out what sounds like commands to the rest of his little band. The women disappear into the wagons as the men begin to gather what few weapons they have.

Before leaving Shandor's wife tries to hurriedly explain though the fear in her voice makes it difficult.

"Shandor says that something is wrong and we are in grave danger. I urge you to go young man but please take this it may save you from a horrible fate."

She hands Mikalis what appears to be a crudely crafted stake of wood, made from a wild rose bush most likely, before hurrying to a wagon. The gypsy men folk have already gathered into a defensive position around the wagons as she goes.

 

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Mikaelis bows to the woman and thanks her as he takes the stake of wood, though as to why, he did not know. After taking it, he hurries to his horse, mounting it as quickly as he can before spurring it forward into a gallop off into the night. He felt wrong leaving those nice people to fight what he assumed were trained soldiers, but he had no way to help them. All he could do was take advantage of the chance and ride as far as he could.

 

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Before Mikalis can even mount his horse at least a dozen soldiers burst from the trees and charge directly at the camp of gypsies led by a knight on a white charger. Looking over his back as he rides away, he watches as the soldiers quickly kill or maim the gypsy men as they try to defend the camp.

The only one who seems to know anything of defending himself is Shandor, the old man. Suddenly as Shandor charges at the knight on the horse Mikalis is overcome with an irrational fear to get away from the horrific scene. The fear fills every ounce of his being as he urges his horse to ride faster and faster. At some point in the escape his horse stumbles and all goes black as Mikalis crashes to the earth.

Feeling the morning sun warm the grass where he lies, Mikalis begins to rouse.

 

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Re: Prologue: Mikalis Von Daphni

Mikaelis groans as he sits up, looking around to try and get his bearings and locate his horse, and cursing himself for getting into such a situation. He was grateful he had gotten away, but a wave of regret, and pain, swept over him as he remembered the soldiers pouncing on the gypsies. Nevertheless, he was determined to continue his journey.