Knights of Anathaeum Beckon a Foul Beast

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Valdís Auðunardóttir

Knight Sworn of Anathaeum
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The sleepy village of Liogne stirred. Sheep were found with their white wool stained red with their blood, and fowl weren't found at all after going missing. Missing birds were frustratedly attributed to mere foxes slipping through wire and stealing away with their prizes. The sheep couldn't be so easily explained. Guard dogs, once brave, disappeared from the homesteads they stood vigil over. No one heard signs of struggle; there wasn't so much as a bark, yelp, or whimper. Most assumed these dogs simply slinked away in terror.

A small boy was found mutilated in a bush, his remains unrecognizable after days of rot. Large footprints were found in the mud, but in the days of heavy rain that followed his slaughter, it was impossible to discern what, exactly, they belonged to.

The village pleaded for aid, and the Knights of Anathaeum answered. A monster of some sort was a prime suspect. Perhaps multiple monsters. Sadly, it wasn't terribly unusual out in the Eastern Valen Wilds, but humankind, ever so stubborn, still sought to eke out a living where the world itself was hostile to its presence. Liogne wasn't so egregious in its bravery, though; it wasn't nearly so far out to the east as other settlements. Perhaps the spirits and beasts were pushing back more aggressively.

Valdís, knight sworn of Anathaeum, rode atop a small bay horse. Her eyes darted here and there, as if searching for signs of a beast in ambush, but her shoulders were relaxed. In the midday sun, and so close to the village now, the knight had little worry of a surprise attack. Even vicious monsters tended to avoid settlements. Still, the habit of looking to and fro was hardwired in Valdís, and even if others thought her habit a sign of paranoia, it wasn't like she was a knight of Dawn who needed to be mindful of even the most minor of movements and gestures. No, she was a monster slayer through and through. She just needed to check in, gather information, and get to work.
 
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Liogne was a neighbor. So of course, when word came down to Wend that Halbum's boy had died, they sent someone to help. Asher was that someone. He'd arrived in the village the night before, bringing his gear, a few day's worth of food, and a small cask wine. The kind of wine used at a funeral. A paltry offering for the mourning family.

So far, Asher hadn't been much help. He thought he could probably fend off a beast if one showed up, but he had no idea how to go about tracking one down. Instead, he'd made himself useful by doing things around the village. Just then, Asher was drawing up water from the well and trying to decide how full he could get the buckets without spilling them on the way back.

He stopped his work when he heard the steady beat of hooves off in the distance. A person in full armor, sitting tall atop their horse, rode down the road towards him. He knew that some knights were coming to help slay the monster, so Asher thought nothing of the sight.

Raising his hand up in a wave, he hollered out to the newcomer. "Over here!" he said. "It's this way, if you want to get to Liogne!"

Valdís Auðunardóttir
 
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Roki was not sure if he should consider being sent out so far on mission as a sign of his own accomplishments, or, well... a sign of how thinly the order was spread.

Probably best not to think about it.

The squire, with his flame red dyed doublet and its proud seals of Loch and Flame embroidered upon its back with brilliant blue yarn, sat proud upon his steed. An old draft horse, that made him look near a giant atop it.

Or would have, had it not been for the clear lack of comfort in how he bounced upon the saddle of the horse he had lent from a local farmer. His staff across his back, his golden eyes peering toward the townsfolk.

They looked as nervous as he felt. And he figured, a smile might help them feel at ease. Though, he wasn't sure what they felt as they hurried away, and his smile was still worn upon his face. Felt silly. Stupid. Out of place. He held it across his lips, for a moment longer as he turned his head back to the road ahead. Felt himself frown.


"Syr Auðunardóttir, um, well," he cleared his throat.

A voice called out from up ahead, a young man, by the looks of it. Roki's smile re-appeared.

"Well, bit of good luck that," he said to himself, and waved to the young man.

Valdís Auðunardóttir Asher Vanak-Duth
 
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Valdís cocked her head and raised her free hand in a brief wave, shifting the glaive in her other hand. The sunlight streaming between the trees' leaves reflected off the plate armor covering her.

"It is, indeed," the knight replied, turning her head toward Roki and nodding. He was only a hair shorter than her in stature, but his own steed was far more imposing, stocky, and powerful than hers. That was a good thing; strength could have been useful in some situations where her mount's speed was not, and vice versa. They did not know what manner of beast or monster stalked these woods yet, after all.

"I heard you are a strong elementalist, Squire Roki," she added, leaning to the side and lowering her voice ever so slightly so that the stranger in the distance that called to them couldn't hear her, "but remember to be careful with fire in the woods." Valdís nodded again. She wasn't so aged that she didn't remember her days as a youthful squire, much as the youngsters may have liked to tease them for their supposed elderliness. It was just a simple, well-meant reminder.

The knight spurred her horse to a canter, a sheathed sword bouncing at her waist, quiver and bow on her back, and glaive held firm in hand. Once they were close to the stranger, the gelding tossed his head and snorted as slowed as she slowed him to a stop.

"Hail!" Valdís greeted with a bow of her head. "You have my thanks for pointing us in the right direction. How far is Liogne from here?"

Asher Vanak-Duth Roki
 
Asher noticed things about the approaching pair, without feeling one way or the other about them. The woman had a glaive and a sword and bow and full plate. The boy was less decked out, likely a squire then. The knightly woman had a hard look about her, but her words were kind, and she held no spurs or crop against her horse. Asher decided that was a good sign; monster hunters certainly could come in worse shapes than these two.

"Just on the other side of that grove," Asher responded to the woman's question. He pointed to a thicket of trees behind them. The road narrowed before it ducked between wide cedar trunks, merely a footpath. The two would have to dismount and lead their horses down it in single file, so thick were the branches. "I'll take you there. The villagers are getting ready for a funeral, so they might not be so welcoming to new faces coming through."

Kneeling down, Asher hefted up the yoke that his two water buckets were slung to. "My name's Asher, by the way. I'm from the next village over. Sorry you had to come at such a grim time." The buckets were only half full, so they didn't slow Asher down any. He turned his back to the travelers and walked the path.

The trees obscured everything in their midst, and made things seem further away then they really were. After only a few minutes, they would come across the first house in the village. The thicket of trees opened up to stump-hacked clearing, a squat cabin nestled in the middle of it. Someone had wrangled a flock of sheep together near the cabin, corralled behind a hastily built line of fence.

"Sheep should be grazing this time of year,"
Asher commented as they passed by. "They'll be too skinny come winter, if the monster isn't found soon."

Valdís Auðunardóttir Roki
 
Roki's bright eyes seemed to shine all the brighter with her agreement. His smile spread wider, and even his tusks seemed to catch the light all the more.

Least, till she mentioned the fire. He flinched back, like he had touched a flame. Squint and looked away. A nervous laugh left his throat. "Oh, you heard about that?" he said in a small voice. "I was, well," his brow knit unto itself some. He grumbled pathetically.

But Syr Auðunardóttir spurred her stead on and greeted the stranger pon the road. Roki cleared his throat, and urged his horse forward.

It, didn't listen at first. So he did the thing with the reigns. It clopped along at its same, slow gait. His brow furrowed all the more, and he dug his heels in. The horse broke forward into a run.

Ran right past Syr Auðunardóttir and the stranger with its heavy clomping gallop, nearly ran into ditch, but came to a hard stop that saw the squire launched from his saddle with a shout and into the thickets with a harsh series of crunches and snaps, scratches and scrapes.


Valdís Auðunardóttir Asher Vanak-Duth
 
“Thank you, Asher,” she replied, “I'm Valdís. I can’t fault them for their wariness considering the tragedy that’s befallen them. But… we’ll still need to gather information so we can find this creature before it does more harm.”

The knight frowned and inclined her head. Though no stranger to death and sorrow, this child's life was wrested from him so soon and so violently. She then surveyed her surroundings, her brow furrowed as she noted the fence that seemed to have been cobbled together. Did the shepherd fear letting the flock wander when there was danger lurking in the woods? The clearing was a welcome change from the densely wooded path full of snaring branches. Roki's horse wrenched her from her thoughts as the giant charged straight past her, carrying a bewildered rider on its back. Valdís froze only a split second before she dismounted her own horse and moved to help the squire. Even as she drew upon the Pursuit of the Wild to weave through the undergrowth, the knight still resorted to shoving twisted, tangled branches aside in her haste, twigs scraping at armor.

“Roki!” she called. “Are you all right?” Even in the dense thicket, his bright red doublet showed through the drab greens and browns of the woodland. Valdís pushed aside a knot of branches with her glaive.

Asher Vanak-Duth Roki

 
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Valdis, the woman knight, and her squire Roki. He logged their names in the empty records of his mind. The yoke on Asher's shoulders swayed as he nodding solemnly along with the woman's steady words. He was glad she was a practical sort. Neither of them were the ones who had a lost a child. The family could mourn, and the rest of them would work.

He would have given freely the information that he had in that moment, but a distraction presented itself. The squire Roki bolting past, on a barely controlled horse. They met with the thicket, and horse and rider parted ways.

The woman, Valdis, was quick to go after the young orc. The horse, thoroughly spooked and free of its rider, turned down the trail and ran right towards Asher.

"Damn," he swore as he dumped the buckets of water off his back. Stepping quick, he grabbed the horse's reigns. His arm wrenched forward, the big draft pulling his weight around. As he kept pace with the beast, Asher let out a quiet kssh kshh click call that had the horse's ears swivel towards him, pulling its attention from whatever had it scared.

"Look at me," Asher commanded, and wrapped the reigns tighter round his fist. He used the other hand to guide the horse's attention closer in. It snorted and stamped.

"Don't be such a baby. You're a warhorse, aren't you?"
The words did not match his tone, which was soft and coaxing. The horse responded to that, skittish still but no longer pulling. It turned to face him, and he saw the rough chestnuts on its legs and the greying muzzle. "Oh, you're not... But they're riding you like one, I see..." He nodded sympathetically, and patted the calmed horse upon the neck. "I understand, I'd be mad too."

Valdís Auðunardóttir Roki
 
Roki worked himself up from the brambles of the thicket. Breath sucked in through his teeth as he thorns poked through fabrics, and scratched at his skin.

"Yeah, yup, yes!" he said, as he found his feet, and did his best to ignore the stinging. His eyes, however, scrunched and small with pinched brow, weren't so good at hiding his feelings. "Fine, perfectly good!" he said as he grunt to pull himself out of the undergrowth.

The thorns held fast. He pulled harder, and his robe ripped some, before the wylds let him free with a stumble step slap of his feet beneath him.

He let out a hot breath, bent over and slightly bloodied. He straightened up, and saw his staff, poking out of the mess of growth.

"Hmm," he said, with snaggle tusked frown. His eyes widened with an idea. A breath drawn into his lungs, and his body went broom straight, and tall. His hands at his center, a circle made with the tips of thumbs and forefingers pressed together, the other digits tented in uniform shape.

A breath in and out. And the wind stirred about him. Breath in, and his hand struck out, a whip of wind lashed forward, snapped against the staff. With a curl of fingers, and a hook of his wrist, he could feel the tendril of air grab about the staff, a jerk back of his hand and the staff came tumbling through the air, end over end, as if a stick flicked by an invisible giant.

Roki's hand snatched up and caught it with a smile.

"Ha!" he exclaimed. Blinked as he looked to the other two, and the horse. "Oh, right," he cleared his throat. Bowed his head.

Asher Vanak-Duth Valdís Auðunardóttir
 
Valdís took a step back as the squire began his spell, seeming to watch the staff keenly as it hurtled through the air and back into its master's hands. The knight still kept an ear out for the errant horse and their guide, though. She glanced to the side, seeing her own horse nibbling at some leaves, his ears swiveling this way and that. He raised his head as he felt his rider's gaze fall on him, if only for a moment.

"That's good to hear," the knight said with a quick nod, but her brow furrowed as she inspected the cuts and scrapes. "I have bandages and salve if you need any, though. I've got plenty to spare, and there's no shame in using it. I want you to be in your best shape when we find this creature."

Valdís turned her head to look toward Asher.

"You have a way with beasts," she said. "Thank you for taking care of Roki's horse while I checked on him." She nodded again, took a few careful steps toward the draft horse, and gave it a gentle pat on the side of its neck. In that brief moment of contact, the knight felt a tense energy emanating from the old beast even as Asher pacified it. A frown tugged at the corners of her lips. Mighty as Roki's steed was, she had to wonder how useful it would be in the heat of combat, or if it could remain composed if the monster lurking in the woods caught them in an ambush. Perhaps it would have been better if they switched later.

"Hmmm… I think we can go the rest of the way on foot and give our horses a well-deserved break from carrying us around." She gave a low whistle, prompting her own steed to lift his head from his grazing and approach. The knight took the reins in her free hand to guide the smaller of the two horses, though she kept a watchful eye on the other.

Asher Vanak-Duth Roki
 
Asher was mildly dazed at the compliment the knight woman gave to him. He blinked at her, the underneath of his pale eyes looking awfully fragile.

"Uh, thanks," he said, stepping away to let Valdis soothe the horse in his place. He kept his hands on the reigns though, and would until the young squire took charge of his own steed once more. "Something's got the horse mighty spooked, more than a stray kick from its rider."

Valdis suggested they go the rest of the way on foot. He nodded along to the soundness of that, and led the big draft back to the orc. Put the reigns in the boy's hands. Thought about giving him some advice on riding, but couldn't parse it out. Squires were supposed to be of nobler stock than farmers' sons, even a hedge squire. Surely the lad already knew about horses.

So with nothing more than another nod, Asher led the two newcomers down the forest path. Soon the clearing that surrounded the center of Liogne came into view. No one was about in the gardens or the yards, and no one came to greet them as they walked between houses.

The villagers of Liogne would all be gathered on the far side of town, paying their respects to the grieving family as they prepared to lay the boy to rest.

Valdís Auðunardóttir Roki