A reprieve.
Brief, as it would likely prove to be. But a reprieve, for nothing made came rushing from the strange foliage to challenge them. Perhaps the demons that yet remained in this hellish place were in utter disarray, owing to the fall of their overlord. Good. May it be so. All those who walked into the mists with him were still alive, and Trajan sought to leave with all the same. Yes, one had fallen from the group of four, the mage group, and it was a pity that it was not their apparent leader the Elf himself.
No time for idling, and no time for mourning. There was work yet to be done. Mitsy, crudely enough, and the Elf both made mention of the pale thing in the distance. And the Elf, a Maester--of course he was with the traitorous College--sensed odd magic in the direction of the pale thing. As did Faurosk, taking a guess that it was perhaps a
Portal stone or something similar to it. Trajan had no sense of magic, his own arcane ability that of a journeyman at best, and couldn't detect its presence let alone the manner of it.
But if what Faurosk said was true, and Trajan had no reason to doubt the seasoned mage, then it might be that escape from this pocket of hell could be found there.
A plan of action. Instead of reaction. Good.
"Then it is decided," Trajan said as he turned from the rear to face the front of the group.
And, as he walked from the rear of the formation to the front, a joyous occasion.
Madame Valkery. He'd heard it at last. That was her name. A name to which all present could aspire. A name which all present should rightly remember, especially the mercenaries.
A thought. Following the reveal of Valkery's name and his immediate reaction to it. There was something to this. Building a reputation in the light of good and noble deeds done selflessly on behalf of one's fellow man and woman. To live one's virtues in the radiance of the sun, instead of operating under the cloak of darkness watched over by scant moonlight. The shining exemplar, instead of the shadowy hand. To garner a reputation of trust and faith and goodwill to those beleaguered ears of the desperate and destitute, such that the mere mention of the name in question brought boundless hope.
The
Luminari had operated in the shadows since its founding, this much was true. But could it not also stand tall in the light? Could its name become to Mankind as Valkery's name was to the twelve embattled mercenaries and Trajan himself?
Yes. After this business was done, and Trajan took in the sweet air of
Arethil once more instead of the repugnant air of this dead world, he would see to it that more operari like this would be conducted by the Luminari. Courageous acts of selfless service and charity to Mankind. This would be the way forward. The 'Dark' operari were necessary, yes, but these, say, 'Light' operari would be the way to awaken the latent strength in each and every man and woman. To inspire the sense of enduring kinship in all Mankind. To bring about full and unbreakable unity at last.
But that was the future. And the future depended upon surviving the present.
Trajan glanced back at the assembled mercenaries and said with a smile beaming with pride, "You heard Madame Valkery, men. You four, keep watch on the rear, that's your duty. You four, on the left. You four, on the right. Dio."
"Here," he said.
"Can Kilo make another flight?"
"He seems okay. Don't want to try a new enchantment on him, but the previous one seems to be holding well enough."
"Good. Send him ahead to those
ruins. Any information on what we're marching toward would be a boon."
"Got it." And Dio let Kilo step onto his hand and he whispered his instructions in the bird's ear and launched him up. Kilo flapped his wings vigorously and took flight and flew ahead of the group to scout the jagged stone structures ahead.
And, true to her magnanimous nature, Valkery volunteered to help carry the body of the slain man. She looked to the black-haired female mage for help. Trajan came over and stood near, his grip firm and ready on his warhammer. It was the least he could do to protect them while they did the honorable thing for the fallen. A cruel and callous fate indeed if they had left his body to rot in this hell while they had the means to bring him back to Arethil. They were not so desperate yet.
Mitsy, and the plate clad man she seemed to have an affinity with, were some paces ahead of them, already on their way toward the obscure pale thing down the path.
"Forward march," Trajan said over his shoulder to the mercenaries. They'd taken up a box formation. Four in the rear, four on either side, the front guarded by Trajan and the solos of the group. Plenty of space on the inside of the formation for Valkery and the black-haired mage to carry the body and be protected as they did so. And, if worse came to worst, the damned troll could hold the front by itself likely, using that beastly strength it had to great effect.
What a day. Becoming brother-in-arms against the demons with a troll of all things. Khadija would never believe it, nor any of the other founders, if Dio hadn't seen it too and could testify to the strangeness of it all.
This mist and hell made cause for odd allies, and no mistake.
Trajan walked forward. As did Dio and the mercenaries, all keeping a vigilant watch.
Elbion_pandemonium
