Alexander spent the night in Laytalya's arms much to the frustration of the guards and priestess who were in ear shot of the young swordswomans impassioned cries splitting the night. At one point Melissa had been ready to storm the sleep wagon where even now the sound of flesh against flesh was cutting through the otherwise still evening air. Part of it had been brought on by the impending duel come the morning, but a greater deal of its purpose was instigated by the drivers and other mercenaries who just a few hours earlier had shamelessly propositioned Laytalya to fly under their banners (and crotches) even with Alexander still alive and well beside her.
Not taking that indignation lying down, the young man had pulled Laytalya into one of the wagons and shortly after the passionate sounds of vigorous love making erupted. Melissa was especially incensed and was ready to intrude before the lead merchant reminded her, the lad was surely doomed come the morning, as one facing his death he should at least be granted a nights reprieve. Though as the loud noises continued into the later evening, even he was starting to regret his choice. Was this foreigner trying to kill himself in the girl's embrace? Three hours straight and they were still at it, not even a break for water or grub!
Well into the fourth hour as lights out was about to be called is when the racket finally stopped. The silence of the pair revealed a few other couples had used the loud performance to nip off for a joining of their own, but these few quickly broke apart when they lost the cover of the two green horns going at each other like wild rabid dogs. As silence descended on the ring of wagons most simply shook their heads. The veterans lamented that the youth had wasted his energy that he'd need for the duel on snagging his girl while the younger mercs were toasting his endurance, few amongst them would dare to boast bedding a woman of Laytalya's build for a straight four hours, the pale outsider was dead for sure on the morrow but at least he had one last roar before the church had its say.
Still how many would be spitting blood and cursing the young man in the wagon were they to have seen the interior? While it was true Alexander had pulled Laytalya in to ward off those way too eager scavengers. The truth was further that he had only spent the better part of an hour entwined with her. The other three hours was a spell. [Mimicry], which copied a sound or series of sounds and replayed it for a length of time, in this case, three solid hours. While the rest of the camp was treated to an hourly replay of his true taking of Laytalya, the pair had curled up, stuffed their ears and let the camp suffer while they slept.
Part of it was to show up those vultures who sought to scoop up Laytalya while he was still breathing but it was also the first part of his plan for the challenge. Back in his old life those pro league sport stars and fighting champions always decried the arrogant upstarts who spent the night before a big game or contest partying and whoring it up. Tiring themselves out before even stepping into the arena. This was a concept Alexander felt would translate to challenges right? So give the illusion that he was having a last hoorah before his execution!
While the others were cursing the loud noises, he was resting contently in Laytalya's arms. Resting his body and mind for the mornings festivities.
Morning came quick enough though, while the adventurers and merchants were preparing the caravan to continue its trek, many were standing watching the wagon, wondering just what shape the doomed young man would be in? After a marathon with the lass, he surely wouldn't be in any shape for the challenge right? All those restless eyes narrowed as the pale form of Alexander stepped from the wagon, unsteady he clambered down and stood as if a strong breeze might knock him down. His eyes were dark, most thinking his night might have not been as vocal but did he continue further?
Melissa was all smiles seeing the sinner looking tired, with no more vitality than an old hollowed out log. Striding forward away from the crowd she smacked her staff turned rod against the side of a wagon dragging attention upon herself. "Sinner! By the grace of the Saint and in the light of the new day I hereby do decree the Formal Challenge of the Saint to begin. As a merciful representative I will extend you the grace of an honorable surrender, come, prostrate yourself before our Holiness, beg for forgiveness for your wretched heathen ways and in our mercy find salvation!"
Alexander listless and looking truly haggard staggered away from the wagon. Stretching and yawning he scratched his hip and called back, "What the fuck you on about? If you want a challenge then come at me!"
Melissa's lips closed in a tight line. A muted snarl rumbled between her clenched teeth. Gesturing with her holy rod she screamed, "Protector Winston! Your charge demands satisfaction! Lay this sinner low so heavens everywhere may know the glory of the Saint's Faith!"
Winston rolled his eyes and trudged past Melissa. The great axe of his casually resting on his thickly muscled shoulder as he looked at the frail looking young man ahead. Shaking his head he sighed, "Don't struggle kid, one clean blow, you have my word, past the first strike you'll feel no suffering."
Alexander met Winston's gaze, he felt almost bad about this situation before he staggered forward playing up the whole weak before strong surrendering to their fate. Winston nodded casually bringing the axe up in a ready position as he lunged forward still as the larger warrior surged ahead Alexander's bowed face lifted. Gone was the tiredness and sunken eyes. His eyes blazed with the will to live as he strode forward and swept his hand before his body muttering a soft few words... "[Feign Death]."
Winston's eyes popped wide seeing the intensity in the younger fellows eyes, those were not of resignation, that gaze burned with a desire to do battle! Still his swing was started, and the young man was only lightly swinging his hand, was he really trying to ward off this strike with such a limp wristed resistance? Hell he didn't even hold a mage staff or wand! Yet as Winston moved forward, under the heated gazes of the others waiting for that large axe to split the pale foreigner asunder... Alexander simply side stepped and strode forward. Those shocked gazes watched as the large axe warrior stumbled beside the young man and collapsed to the dirt, unmoving.
Watson charged forward, though not to engage Alexander who still stepped aside allowing the younger brother to rush to his siblings side. Rolling the older brother over Watson put his face close to the older man's mouth and nose briefly before snapping his head up to look at Melissa, "Priestess! I can't feel his breath, please cast your healing on him I beg of you!"
Melissa's eyes were wide, she'd not seen what had happened as Winston's large muscular body had obscured her sight of Alexander but the fact was this sinner had brought her senior protector down in a single exchange! "What wounds has he?!"
Watson scanned his brothers body and shook his head, "Nary a one I can see Priestess! Not blade nor needle, other than the scrapes from the fall I can't see anything!"
Melissa bit her lip and raised her rod high, the symbol atop it glowed brilliantly as she yellowed out, "Oh great Saint, one of thy faithful has suffered harm most dire while striking at sin, bath this believer in your holy light and mend his tired and wounded mortal coil!"
The cascade of light washed over the brothers, the brilliant light swiftly cured the cuts upon Winston's chest and legs from his fall but other than those minor wounds Watson was horrified to see his older brothers eyes neither twitched, nor did that muscled chest rise or fall with breath. Lifting his head tears rimmed his eyes as he looked at her, "Melissa please! Its not working!"
Melissa watched in shock as her [Heal] had done nothing to lift Winston from his still state on the ground. Gritting her teeth she shook her head ignoring Watson dropping her title to call to her directly. They were her protectors but it would be a lie to say she had forgotten all ties with the brothers, before the church she had been friends with both and to see the older brother outright slain was a deep unseen wound on her heart. Glaring at the sinner she screamed, "Watson kill that pale bastard, we'll heal Winston after we deal with him!"
Watson turned rage filled eyes on Alexander who cocked his head curiously, they knew they were going to be called upon to fight, did they not steel their resolve that it could be they that would die? For all their compassion and good will the truth was clear... Both brothers had looked down on him, no less than Melissa had. They were nicer about it to be sure but shave off those concerned masks and the brothers were equal to their charge.
Alexander clucked his tongue and shook his head, with another wave of his hand he smirked, glancing at Melissa, "Better you come deal with me yourself witch, your protector is going to be a little busy."
Watson listened curiously at what the younger man claimed, being looked down on he made to rush forward but stumbled as something gripped his leg. His gaze dropped down and Watson's blood ran cold. A half rotted hand clutched his ankle! His urge to move forward had helped what was attached to that appendage break the dirt as a zombified man in tattered leather and rusted mail was unearthed, clawing at the young protectors legs trying to drag itself out of the ground and clamber up the young fighters lower limbs! "Melissa! Zombie!"
Melissa chuckled waving her rod shouting out, "Oh great Saint thy faithful are beset by the forces of darkness. Rain your purity down upon your faithful, protect the chosen from the vile clutches of the darkness beyond!"
A wave of holy energy swept out making Alexander's skeletal arm itch under the thick glove. Fir the risen zombie he had not even swiped away the creation message when he received note it had been destroyed. Little need of it though, watching the energy wash over the fresh undead was like watching a body dropped in acid. The rotting flesh was sheared off in great flakes, the skull opened in a silent scream before the bones turned to dust and were scattered on the breeze. Watson let out a breath as he looked to Alexander, that had been close, how did this newbie necromancer conceal an undead here though?
Melissa sneered at Alexander the rod cradled in the crook of her arm, "You were saying sinner?"
Alexander shook his head then stretched and flexed his hands towards the ground. Truth be told his initial probe had been a fluke to create a lesser undead right under Watson. Thing was however, this was a trade way. How many caravans had traversed this path? How many had been ambushed? How many won or lost? As the former son of a merchant he'd been privy to casualty reports on different occasions. It was a rare caravan to not suffer a single loss. There were always newbies getting waylaid by bandits or beasts. How many reports included totals of bandits killed and buried out in the wilds and more specifically... where.
Truth be told necromancers were to be feared near graveyards and battlefields... but what was a trade way if not a string of graveyards linked by a well laid out road? Regardless of who won or lost, who was eaten or was fed upon. Each of these rest stops were their own battlefield and graveyard. And this, Alexander meant to teach them.