The Shade Wood. A dense forest packed with different breeds of trees, like Saplings or Oak, to the Yggdrasil Needles or Tarfells. The light did not touch the ground here, short of what clearings Famers who hid within the wood could carve out for themselves. There were small townships and individual houses scattered through the Forest, all enjoying the quiet of nature well away from the life of the City, much less the Empire.
The cobblestone road that leads from the township Gerik and Yule had sheltered in turned into trodden dirt well before they reached the obvious border. Their unwanted companions immediately turned them off the road, where they wandered half the day into the tree line before Rial cut them towards the east on a path that had been hidden away in the brush. They all marched on in silence, with Rial and their odd pet, Avina, scouring the path before them with a huntsman's eye. Mathias and Kor shored up the rear, not only looking to see if they were followed, but Gerik knew they were watching him warily.
This had not been their first time dealing with someone who did not want their company. Gerik had half a mind to cut and run, but Yule was not only instantly attached to her new friends, the Old Cleric knew that the Rial thing at his fore would easily track him down.
And after watching Mathias, Gerik was not sure if he could take that one in a straight fight. He had to bide his time and wait. Perhaps when they reach this camp, he could find a moment that he and Yule could use to slip away.
Gerik set his mind to it as they walked, which they did so for much of the day. They stopped long enough for Yule to eat something before they were walking again. It was not a march, nor a brisk pace, but something adopted, it seemed, for the Girl's convenience, much to Gerik's relief.
The campsite they reached already had a fire waiting for them, and travel bags rolled out to sleep on. A stewpot sat near the fire, with something bubbling within, filling the area with a smell that made Gerik's mouth water.
And then, both Gerik and Yule laid their eyes on the one that had to be called Inra.
They were thin, with female qualities barely contained in armor and robes that were ornamental more than practical. Gerik could not resist looking at the female from her sparkling sapphire eyes to the very white of the talons of her toes. There had been no flesh, but golden scales that glimmered in the firelight, with horns protruding out the back of her head and strands that matched the shine of the scales pooled around a face that had an inhuman, lizard muzzle and facial structure.
Yet, despite the obvious monster-like qualities, Gerik could not tear his gaze away.
"Inra, guests," Rial called out to her, and the being turned from the stew pot to flash a warm smile in their direction.
"Yes, a distinguished member of the Church," Inra nodded towards Gerik, who coaxed his head to the sweet honey that brushed past his ears. Where Rial's voice had an odd musical quality that all elves seem to have, even for a 'Dark Elf', Inra's had been pure, exotic velvet. The Cleric had to cough, cover his mouth a moment, and avert his gaze elsewhere.
"Everyone likes Inra," Mathias grunted at Kor as they both passed Gerik by.
"And who is this?!" Inra quickly took a knee, and smiled a bright, motherly smile at Yule, even reaching out to the young girl as a relative Yule had not seen in years.
Yule could not resist such a friendly and welcoming gesture. Like an arrow shot from a bow, Yule quickly lept into Inra's arms like a giggling fool that she was, and Inra hoisted her up easily, sitting the child on her hip.
"I am Yule Dewstar!" the girl introduced herself, "And you are a very pretty lady,"
"So I am told," Inra smiled back, and once more turned towards the stew, "Are you hungry little one? We've clean bowls and some honey-water on tap,"
As Inra, with Yule still clinging to the beings' body, turned to set about getting Yule fed, Gerik once more found himself staring at the golden goddess.
"She is called a Broodling," Rial said, partially blocking Gerik's view. The Cleric jumped, instantly startled that he was, once more staring, and again averted his gaze. "Inra is our Healer, and typically the Diplomat, though we were not sure of this place's feelings towards inhuman things like her and, well, another member of our party who we tend not to let run loose on his own,"
As Rial explained that, they looked around with a frown growing on his face, "Inra where is Jeri?"
"Out," Inra called after, and rather bluntly, "It was not a pleasant morning. The little hooligan has not returned from doing as you instructed, but I heard the results,"
"Bad?" Rial asked.
"Very," Inra reported, a frown on her scaled lips, yet she instantly returned to tending to the Girl's needs. Inra did not think long on that very bad she had hinted towards, Inra instead focusing on the more pleasant company.
Mathias stood nearby, peering around, "Knowing that bugger, should we bother to set a watch?"
"I'll volunteer for the first regardless, he may have missed something," Kor offered, and both Rial and Mathias turned towards their comrade, both raising an eyebrow, "What?"
"He is still mad at you," Mathias warned, jabbing a finger at Kor. "He might just kill you on sight,"
"When is he not mad at anyone?" Kor shot back irritably, then they both headed towards the stew pot.
"And this, Jeri is?" Gerik asked, frowning at the exchange.
Rial took a moment to reply, their face flinching with the first show of discomfort. They pinched at their nose, still trying to find the words before they mustered what they could.
"Everyone likes Inra." the Dark Elf repeated Mathias' statement, glancing down at Gerik to add, "No one likes Jeri,"
"That does not answer the question," Gerik scowled at Rial.
"And you've many, first let us sit down for some food, you haven't eaten anything and Avina is pining for some lamb," Rial said, sniffing the air around them like a feral animal before turning their attention to Gerik once more, "Might be better to wait for Yule to get some sleep, we'll be safe tonight,"
"Kor, if you want the first watch, don't let Jeri catch you unawares or asleep," Rial warned, moving to the cauldron himself, "I am not keen on cleaning up the mess,"
Gerik frowned at that but felt his stomach rumble. Knowing that most of them meant him no harm, nor Yule, the Cleric accepted a bowl of stew but sat down to pick at it sparingly.
<><><><><><><>
This turned from a simple siege meant to contain the Imperials, to a running battle. Every time they had the damned Instarians bottled up in their gate, they would sally forth and batter the encircling force before retreating again.
It had been a delaying tactic, Stev knew that as soon as he witnessed it himself. This fight was not a raging army on a raging army, though this pathetic collection of buildings walled behind stone so old that it looked to crumble at any minute by its own volition was turning into a mock-up of one. The undead prolonged the fighting well until the afternoon, then they were too few to be effective fodder with some groups simply hovering near the lines to be little more than a hindrance for both parties involved. The general soldiery had to wade into the fighting, and some of that devolved into shield walls against shield walls, with little more than spears peeking through gaps on both sides. In the narrow confines of the cobblestone roads, Knights on horseback were useless.
And Stev was becoming very annoyed at this entire affair.
The sun was starting to set before Lord Archibold Eddard, Lord of these nuisances made their presence known. They were dark of hair with a trimmed beard, both frosted with gray, stoic and tall, waving a bloodied great axe they used to hew into the dead and living of the Undead King's Army. What meager forces of the Empire flocked behind him, trying to route the enemy, break them and drive them out of their wretched existence.
Baron Stev strode forward, weapon still in its scabbard, hand resting the hilt, but not grasping.
"Eddard!" Stev thundered over the din of battle. He had to shout twice more before lesser men parted allowing the Nobles of the Opposing Forces to Faceoff.
"Who are you to be calling me out, swine?!" Eddard roared, pointing their gore covered axe towards Stev.
"Your doom," Stev replied with a bored tone, drawing the sword finally to rest the flat of the blade on the shoulder, "And my glory,"
Eddard snarled, charging through the corridor of men, with Stev meeting them halfway. Their weapons, heavy, forged by masters of their crafts, slammed into one another with a clash that seemed to shake the air around them. Stev's arm felt the shock of impact, despite Eddard's age this Lord of the Empire had the strength to match Stev's might. A turn of hip and an adjustment of grip, trying to apply cunning in a swing to bypass the axe with a cut that was shallower than it appeared, was intercepted with an expert deployment of the axe handle. The greatsword struck iron bands that protected the shaft, showering both men in sparks.
With a vicious kick outward that barely graced Eddard's armor, Stev aimed to drive the Lord back, only to find that again, Eddard matched him, adjusting their body and countering with a ringing blow with the axe.
They were equal in skill and power, but Stev had something up his sleeve that Eddard knew nothing about.
After more ear-splitting blows that drowned out the fighting happening in the streets adjacent to this one, Stev parted quickly instead of engaging further. He extended his left wrist, grinning assuredly at his foe before Stev snapped that wrist downward with the palm out towards Eddard. There had been a sharp twang, and a spike rocketed from a hidden place in the brace, and a spike pierced Eddard's armor at the shoulder.
It had been the heart Stev had aimed for, but the Lord tried to dodge the attack, only to be thrown down with a bloody injury as the unexpected missile tore through armor and flesh, embedding itself deep into Eddard's shoulder. Stev strode forth to plunge the sword into the downed Lord's still living body but found his path blocked immediately by Imperials with shields raised. Snarling that his prey was denied him, Stev cut into those mortal fools, driving men down with unnatural ease.
"Bastard!" Eddard called out, having been helped up by his troop and dragged back towards the gates. "It was a Duel of Honor!"
"A Duel?" Stev replied back with a wide, evil smile, "Sorry, I should have been specific,"
With their Lord wounded, and the Baron von Stev killing any with nerve and courage to try and stem the tide, the Imperials collapsed quickly into their fortification to drop portcullis and closing the gates in order to prevent their enemy from entering.
Once the Fortress, little more than a fortified manor built by the same sods who put up the walls, had been sealed from the inside, Stev cleaned his sword on a wretch who happened to be standing nearby. Shoving them away, the Baron housed his weapon of choice, fetched another spike from a hidden place to reload that hidden weapon.
"Archers?" someone shouted.
Lord-Commander Ivyn. The man lumbered over those around them with their weapon in hand. They surveyed the killing field as Stev came to the conclusion that the larger man was directing the question at him.
"None that we are aware of. Spearman mostly. But I have not been paying attention." Stev reported, turning to bow towards Ivyn as they drew closer.
"Eddard among the dead?" Ivyn demanded, and Stev pointed towards the gates. Ivyn grunted on, "Dying or wounded, for your sake, or you are going to be here longer than intended,"
"Wounded, three-inch steel spike to the shoulder. He is good, as you said, my Lord, I had intended to hit him square in the heart," Stev again reported, and kept his eyes on the dead at his feet. Iyvn, who was displaying very little emotion short of pure annoyance, was shifting the weapon in their hand.
"Fine." Ivyn accepted that, and pointed off into the distance, "Go fetch your Knights from the wood,"
"I will gather my men-" Stev started to dip lower and depart.
Ivyn jerked Stev off his feet completely, holding the heavily armed knight by his very breastplate, with Stev's feet unable to touch the ground.
"Were you not paying attention this morning as well?" Ivyn asked, their tone was cold, but there was a rage in those eyes as Stev was unable to reach for his sword because of the straps and placement of armor. Ivyn had Stev at their mercy, and Ivyn was not known for that.
"I can't afford to send anyone else but you because your Knights are meant to screen my flanks. If the ones you dispatched failed to capture or kill the girl, much less maim her, I expect heads on my feet for the incompetence," Ivyn then shoved Stev away, and the armored knight crashed into a pile of dead like they were little more than a discarded sack of rotting meat to Ivyn. "Be fortunate that the King still has use for you, otherwise I would want yours,"
"I can, however, spare you an acolyte of the lowest order, and ten footman," Ivyn continued, pointing off into the distance, "I want that necromantic priest returned alive with all of their limbs in place and undamaged, we may need to raise an army to cover a retreat because a hundred Knights will not be enough,"
After Ivyn turned from Stev, the Lord-Commander continued to give out their orders in a monotone fashion taking several paces away to face the gate. "You can claim horses enough for the lot, take from the town if you must,"
Stev was barely on his feet with Ivyn turned again, raising a bald brow at the Baron, "Why are you still here?"
<><><><><><><>
Yule was asleep. Curled up like a tight little ball, using Avina as a pillow, with a thick fur draped over her to keep the little one warm from an encroaching chill.
Gerik, after holding off as long as he could, had a second helping of the stew before passing the bowl to Mathias. The large man had removed much of their armor, revealing padded clothing that was as strange as the rest of their garb. Mathias was washing dishes over a bucket with a canteen of water. Gerik, after a few minutes, realized that Mathias had been washing everyone's bowls, and never once fetched another canteen. It was some sort of enchanted bucket, again hinting that this was a group of experienced adventurers.
"So," the Old Cleric said, flicking his eyes to the others who sat around him, "Are we to have this conversation?"
"To put it as bluntly as I can," Rial started, "We are not from around here, we've come from a very far, far away place in order to offer our assistance,"
The words rang true. Rial was not lying, yet there was still something about them that had Gerik on edge since meeting this odd elf.
"How am I to believe your word?" Gerik question, not bothering to hide their disbelief. "Before you go further, know I can see into all of your hearts, and though your words are honest, and know there is no malicious intent, there is something about you I do not trust Drow,"
Rial shot Mathias a disapproving glance, and the silver-eyed man quickly went back to work. Obviously, Gerik was paying close attention to what was being said, "Yes, that is another name for my race, though I would prefer Rial,"
"Look into the Hearts of Others?" Kor asked they were sitting down and leaning on their shield, "So you can tell if we are telling the truth or not,"
"And Malicious Intent?" Inra questioned herself, before she offered a long, acknowledging sigh, "Paladinic Sense,"
"Oh I want to be awake when Jeri is here," Mathias offered up quickly.
"I��ll wake you," Kor added.
"Shut up the both of you," Rial ordered more than suggested, before regarding Gerik once more.
"Look, I am what I am, and that is not up for discussion," Rial touched the gemmed brooch clasped just beneath their cloak by reflex, "What I do understand that this trust goes both ways, what happened to your previous companions?"
Gerik frowned at the question, and shook his head slowly, "That too, is not up for discussion. Know that I aim to protect Yule from everyone, the Church and the Great Enemy, King Hardran,"
"That is our mission too, but why should we protect the girl from the Church?" Rial frowned, "Remember, we are strangers here, and we know very little of your Realm,"
"Again, that is a stretch, and the timing is suspicious," Gerik pointed out, "I needed aid and there you were,"
"We are from the Spear's End Tavern and Inn," Mathias replied in a deadpan manner. "As Rial said, we are from far, far away, dispatched to do anything and everything in our power to Protect one Yule Dewstar from any sort of harm,"
"We do not know who sent us, we did not exchange names," Mathias stated flatly, "We are here, we are willing, why question it when you know, in your heart, what I say is true,"
Gerik's expression on hearing Mathias told the group Gerik knew what Mathias said had been, as they said, true. Yet they shook their head slowly as if trying to deny it. "I have never heard of this, Spear's End,"
"That isn't the point," Mathias countered immediately, still working on the plates as he spoke "The point is that we are here to help, and you, with your truth sense, are still refuting it,"
"There is a conflict there behind your eyes, we all see it, something to do with the little one, who is this Hardran and why is the Church a threat as well?" Mathias asked firmly, leaning up once more from the bucket to place his arms on his legs. "And be warned, Inra has the same sense as you,"
Gerik glanced at the strange, golden lizard-like woman, before looking away once more.
"I want you to understand, we have never fought this before," Gerik started, obviously hesitant, "Belor had been the First Undead King, and we hoped the last,"
"I was there when we destroyed him, finally. The Lady Dewstar," Gerik swallowed hard, taking a sharp intake of breath as if mentioning the Lady had been painful, "Yule's Grandmother, pooled her blood unto Belor's true body, dissolving it with her holy life force."
"The Undead Collapsed, and we destroyed Belor's library and artifacts, then we carried the news back to the Church and explained how it had been done,"
Gerik again, faltered, placing a hand on his mouth a moment, horrified at the memory, "And then Hardran, the son of Belor, revealed that he had broken off a part the artifact used to make Belor the Undead King and repeated whatever process that started the nightmare, and we are back where we started from twenty years later,"
"So the Church wanted the veterans of the last Great War to gather together under my banner, and march to Lashfield, find the true body, and, repeat the sacrifice as before," Gerik's eyes turned towards Yule, "Her Father Volunteered to go, and we were all mustered to venture out, when Hardran had the entire Dewstar Family, save Yule, murdered,"
"Yule managed to escape," Gerik's face hardened, "Barely, if not bravely, she managed to save a few of the other children she played with. Yet, despite being so young, despite being so, so young, the Church voted to drain her like a flask,"
"Sweet Gods," Inra exclaimed, and everyone save Rial looked as horrified as Gerik had been moments before.
"And you killed the Companions chosen for the task in order to protect her," Rial summarized, and Gerik turned instantly at the Dark Elf. "That is why the Church is after you,"
"I will not yield her to that fate," Gerik growled, and put a hand on his weapon, the elf had guessed it without having to dig too deeply, "I will defend her life with mine,"
"And you have our assistance," Rial voiced, quickly holding up their hands as if to surrender to Gerik, "Relax, you are among friends, again, we were instructed to defend Yule at all costs, and you know that is no lie,"
"But why her blood?" Mathias demanded, obviously angry at the mere mention of such a distasteful tactic, "What is so special about her blood?"
"It is of the Holy Summoners, beings who can bring forth objects from across the land with their will," Gerik explained hesitantly, "Yule there has more control over it than anyone, and she can even move where she wills if she is frightened enough,"
"It was how she escaped the slaughter,"
Mathias and Rial locked eyes, with the silver-eyed man gesturing towards the Dark Elf "Well, that explains why they sent you and that red bastard, does this Hardran sound like a lich to you?"
"The Lady Dewstar may have had a hint of the divine in her, the blood would have devastated the phylactery hidden in the corpse, as for this artifact that grants undeath? That is a question for Jeri," Rial conceded, stroking at their ebony chin, "Necromancy is not my field of expertise,"
"And who is this Jeri?" Gerik demanded, and again, there was a look of discomfort from Rial.
"You have tabaxi here?" Kor asked helpfully, and Gerik's face scrunched. Obviously, they did not know what that word was much less the race.
"You have dwarves in this realm?" Mathias questioned. Gerik offered a stiff, acknowledging nod. "Think of a very tall, violent dwarf. Covered in fur, weapons, and constantly smoking a pipe,"
"I am the Muscle, Rial is the Leader, Kor is our Defender, Inra keeps us on our feet, and Avina there," Mathias turned, indicating the strange creature called a Pseudo-Dragon, "Is this group's little mascot, she is more family than a pet and we treat her such,"
"Jeri fills in the gaps," Rial offered up hesitantly, "Skullduggery and the like. He and Necromancy do not get along,"
"Nor does he get along with cultists," Mathias added, and did not pause or hesitate, "Or bandits, religious zealots, cowards, paladins-"
"-Just, be assured," Rial added quickly, making a shushing motion towards Mathias "Even among us, there is no one else you would want to watch over Yule,"
"Jeri has a weakness for Children," Rial summarized, then added in an afterthought, "And maybe Bards,"
"And booze, can't forget that either," Mathias added with a grin. "And pipeweed, and-"
"-Shut up," Rial shot back at the Human, but could not help but smile as well.
Gerik did not feel comfortable with the description, either racially or personality wise. He had caught on with the terse exchange between Rial and Inra that whatever Jeri was doing, it was not good. Gerik shifted in his seat, and shook his head, trying to make sense of it all, "I just need to know what all of your intentions are in all of this,"
"You tell me what you wish done and I see to it the party gets it done," Rial replied, then held up a finger, "But we are not going to this Lashfield place to spill that girl's blood on anything,"
Relief swept over the old Cleric at that proclamation, and they wrung their hands. They were genuine in their heart. Despite the odd aura of Rial, there had been enough conviction in that statement that it ebbed away doubt from Gerik's mind.
He could trust them. Gerik could really trust them! "I aim to take her across the sea,"
"Then we will go with you!" Rial stated as if it had already been decided.
"I cannot offer compensation,"
"We don't need compensation," Mathias replied sternly, "We are here to ensure Yule's safety, nothing else matters,"
The Old Cleric could not believe it. Yet his talent told him that they were speaking true. It did not matter who this benefactor was, this was divine intervention.
The Gods had sided with Gerik as far as he was concerned, that Yule should live, and damn those murderous bastards in the Capital.
"What about the thousands being slain?" Kor demanded, standing up and approaching the group. "You can't let that Lich remain, think of the other innocents!"
That struck Gerik harder than it should have. What about the rest? All those people died because Gerik chose Yule over duty. Many more would be as well, Gerik had doomed this entire land for one girl.
One life for countless others. That confidence that the Gods sided with him quickly collapsed.
"Kor remind us why Jeri is pissed at you again?" Mathias nearly turned fully around, looking as if he was ready to rise and attack the other human in the group.
"I'm not saying hurt the girl, let's get her to safety, I'm all for that, sure," Kor quickly explained himself, holding out their hands as if expecting something to be thrown at them, "But Gerik there knows where this Lich's home is, he gets us to Lashfield and let us do what we do best,"
"Chaos," Rial grunted.
"Carnage," Mathias added.
"We end it," Inra mused, and the others smiled, offering nods to the other.
"It's settled," Rial then stood, and bowed towards Gerik, "We will take Yule to a place of safety across the sea, and return to destroy this, Hardran,"
"Can you do that?" Gerik asked, dumbfounded at their confidence, Yet there was hope swelling in his chest, an emotion he had not felt for a long, long time. "How can you destroy an Undead King without the blood of a Holy Summoner?"
"We have dealt with Necromancy before," Rial replied, then, placing a finger on their own chin, they offered an observation to Gerik "This is the first time I've ever heard anyone using life's blood to combat it. That sounds desperate,"
"It was," Gerik swallowed, slumping where he sat, "Oh Gods of Light, it was,"
"Either case, for a Lich, you destroy the Phylactery. Typically it is a gemstone or vial, I do not understand the magical sciences in the matter, but destroying it makes the Lich vulnerable. Belor's may have been inside that corpse, maybe the blood destroyed it as well," Rial started to rub at his chin, "But Blood in general? Your people have no holy weapons?"
"All weapons of the Church are Holy," Gerik frowned at the question. "Those of the church can smite the evil if we are close enough, infusing our weapons with prayer and spell,"
"That has limits, what I mean are Divine Weapons, blessed by your Gods of Light," Mathias explained and turned to gesture towards Inra.
The broodling hefted a very large, heavy-looking maul that glowed a soft yellow light, the source were runes etched on the surface.
"No, we have never tried anything like that," Gerik murmured in wonder.
"I suppose not, this is the second time you've dealt with the undead, smiting them with holly magics is all you know at the moment," Rial frowned darkly, "I figure you would enchant your weapons that would be a priority considering the circumstances,"
"Our wars before had been against Elf and Dwarf, as well as other rival kingdoms. The Elves have swords wreathed in fire but guard the magic for that jealousy," Gerik said, slowly shaking his head, "When the Empire found one of the Elven heroes from ancient conflicts, the Elves risked war by raiding a town for the sword, and fleeing back across the border with it,"
"In short, the Empire does not have the ability to enchant swords of such quality, much less the need to enchant swords with our holy power,"
Mathias muttered something under his breath at that, as if realizing something, and Rial shushed them immediately. Gerik did not catch the verbal exchange, but as Rial kept talking, Mathias gave a signal to Inra, who seemed to understand and gave a simple nod.
"I take it the other races did not partake in the first Great War with the Dead?" Rial asked, almost expecting the answer.
"Only the Nations of Men and Dwarf. The Elves believed it to be a Human Problem,"
"And this place across the sea?"
"Once a Colony of the Empire, but they long ago became their own Kingdoms. Last I heard they were in good standing with the Minotaurs there, and they staved off invasions from Orcs together," Gerik offered a slice of the geopolitics of the realm
Kor sucked on his teeth at the mention of Minotaurs and sat down sharply, Mathias and Rial smiling at their comrade's sudden awkwardness.
"What?" Gerik asked, obviously lost to the group's private knowledge.
"Kor doesn't like Minotaurs," Mathias pointed out.
"Not true," Kor grumbled, now sulking, trying to hide further behind his shield. "Just, sore spot,"
"You people are strange," Gerik observed as Rial and Mathias still grinned at the Kor, "But I have not felt so welcomed, and protected since I left the Capital all those weeks ago,"
"Yeah, well, remember that in the morning," Mathias stated, then headed for a bedroll, "You still haven't met that murderous little shit,"
"Mathias!" Rial hissed, frowning at their silver-eyed companion.
"Yeah, language, make sure you hit Jeri with that," Mathias growled back irritably, "And hard, I swear to Gods you treat that kill stealing self-centered furball better than the rest of us,"
"If not for the gift I have, I would call all you mad," Gerik continued, glancing around, "But as I said I have never felt more welcome, yet-"
"-and there is the doubt," Inra observed with a musical little laugh, "All I can say, is have faith in the Light, of your Gods, the Sun, and the Holy Flame,"
"More so in Rial," Inra indicated with her hammer, "He is our elder, and wise beyond his years,"
"Dear Lady, if you vouch for Rial, then I can do little else but place my faith in the Light of Instaria's Stars," Gerik quickly humbled himself right there for Inra, and Mathias chuckled, getting comfortable to sleep.
"See? Everyone likes Inra,"