Open Chronicles Beyond the Wall

[Septimus]

​

He'd arrived in the dead of night. It was a habit of his, really. A habit that did little to help his reputation as an ominous figure among the village populations. The torch in his left hand crackled, it's orange glow bounced and reflected by the recent snowfall that had lain undisturbed long enough for the wind to blow it completely smooth. His destrier was tethered to the well nestled in the village center.

His free hand lifted, pushing open the cracked wooden door. More snow greeted him, a broken window allowing it to form a makeshift slope from floor to ledge. Dinner was interrupted. At the table, a body stared at him with glassy eyes; a boy, no more than fifteen, his back split enough he was sure he saw vertebrae.

Septimus wasn't the only thing to arrive with the setting of the sun, it seemed. Two days past? Three? He moved inside, careful not to disturb too much, though there was no avoiding the blood already frozen black. Three total. Maybe thirty outside, some with weapons still in hand. Whatever had done the killing hadn't left any of their own behind.

Brow furrowing beneath his helmet, he didn't bother to close their eyes. Likely, their eyelids were already frozen. He didn't feel like dealing with that particular hassle. "Ghouls, maybe." He mutters, stepping back out through the door and onto the street. Raising his torch, he followed the pathway to the north end of town, finding what seemed to be the first kill - someone trying to outrun the inevitable.

Likely, whatever had done this had returned from where it came. Sighing, his eyes lifted to the oppressive cloud cover obscuring the moon. Crystalline snowflakes drifted lazily from the sky, as if to cover the horror in a blanket of serenity. His eyes lowered to the paths again, wanting to double check before they were inevitably obscured from view. Snow never came at an opportune time.

"No drag marks." Definitely ghouls. Maybe a particularly hungry Gravefiend? It was something smart, though. Few of the doors were broken. Perhaps a challenge, for once. Making his way back to the center of town, he sheathed his sword and untethered his horse, which he soothed with the stroke of his hand. "We're headed North, Eight."

 

[Karl von Stehlen]

"I do what I do because it is the right thing to do. I am a warrior, and it is the way of the warrior to fight superior odds."
-Paul Watson
He probably should have asked for support...in fact, the it was protocol for any armed forces of Strojland to always request reinforcements before engaging in a pitched battle. Stack the odds against the enemy as much as you could, that was the mindset of Strojland strategy.

Instead, Karl on his own, pursing a lead all on his own...telling no one of his where about...as at the moment he was technically not on duty.

Really, it was a way of circumventing this protocol, pursing would be assignments on your own. But Karl knew at the moment the Order was occupied with other matters. See, there have been a number of incidents within the past few weeks with rather...unsightly, dirty creatures, raiding across the borders. Now, the knight patrols and huntsmen patrols were able to catch these would be killers, especially once the first one or two of these beasts were discovered. Again, these things were put down before they caused too much danger, but the flow of these pests have been a throne in everyone stationed or living at the border. Ironically, it is that efficiency that has caused these ghoulish threats to be pushed down on the priority list, or at least, the priority list for Karl's Order. But the knight himself knew that this slow trickle was taking a toll on the local patrol's ...sooner or later. they're exhaustion are going to cause them to slip up. Preventative, after all, is the best medicine.

Karl had decided to take the initiative on this assignment, but as a result of this initiative, he hadn't the support of a well organized hunting party to back him up if the going gets tough. Something that, no doubt, Karl 'll catch an earful from his seniors he..if he made it out of this alive.

And this is where we find ourselves, with our silent white knight...as the sound of horse hooves echoed through the streets...to the edge of one of the streets was a faint glow....becoming more noticeable by the secound, as the horse hooves grew louder, so did the light grow brighter...until suddenly...approaching from around the corner....there he was...a lamp hanging of the side of his mount...the knight's jet-black visors were down, his red plume wavering in the cold night wind...the Stahlspitze of the Iron Cross...Black Knight of Strojland...​

 

[Septimus]

He wasn't perturbed when he heard horses hooves coming along. The pace was slow and measured, a traveler wandering into the village in spite of the snow. Perhaps he was seeking respite. While he was securing the saddle to his horse, he lifted his pale eyes to the path and found the black night approaching. A lantern rocked against his steed's flank, and with a final tug, he gave the destrier a pat on it's side.

Already snow was obscuring what remained of the bodies in the street. Much of it was long since frozen over, and he was far from concerned about being taken for the villain that'd orchestrated the massacre. He was unfamiliar with the knight's markings, however. He wasn't from The Tower, that was for sure.

Stepping away from the horse, left palm resting lazily on the pommel of his sword, he stared down the newcomer with the confidence of a man with worldly experience. "If you're looking for a place to rest, you're days late. Nothing lives here now but ghosts." Despite the muffle of his helmet, it was clear that Septimus had a hollow voice, one more suiting a geist than a man.

But with the lantern light casting his eyes in shadow within his helmet, he wasn't worried about being attacked.

"My suggestion would be to go back from whence you came, lest you share their fate." He held a low opinion of any knight with polished armor, as his own gambeson was dirty yet cared for, and his armor dull but solidly kept. Fully intending to deal with the threat alone, the only reason he could think for this knight to be here was either to rest, or to find him.

The latter was what concerned him.

Karl von Stehlen

 

[Karl von Stehlen]

"You have my gratitude, Sir Obvious...I don't think I would have ever been able to use my own eyes to deduce the situation....if, it had not been for your insightful observations..." The quip was no doubt meant to be sarcastic, but the tone that the black knight had displayed almost matched the hollowness of the his white armored counterpart. The White Knight wasn't the only one who could do emotionless.

If Karl had to be honest, he didn't like dealing with knights outside of his Order. Most, if not all, were stuck up about themselves and their Order, thinking themselves the savior of the world or some nonsense like that...maybe Karl wasn't any better...but it seemed that ever interaction with these other knights always seen to descend into a di-sword measuring contest whenever he did encounter a knight from a different Order...which, more often then not, got quite old quite fast.

Hell, Karl hadn't the faintest clue which Order this one was from...two many to bother keep tracking of....the only real thing he could tell you was that he wasn't a Templar...which wasn't really much.

"Is that warning?..Or a threat?" The black knight would continue on to ask, as he urged his mount slowly forward, coming up on the side of the white knight...his posture was to attention, but his demeanor was relatively relaxed...unconcerned by where his counter part had his hands...eyes, hidden within the darkness of his visors. "Because I am not one who likes to jump to conclusions...not without hard evidence...and judging by the evidence presented; the handy work upon the bodies strewn about...I'd wager...for your sake, and for the sake of whoever trained you...that this isn't your doing...and if it is, well...I've seen better."​

 

[Faerlin]

Faerlin didn’t know what had brought her to this godsforsaken backwater. Nor was she likely to find out; as a member of the Anirian Guard under the banner of House Weiroon, her job was to follow orders, march where she was instructed, and kill who or what she was told. No doubt some scion of the house saw some advantage out here, or owed someone a favor. It was not uncommon for members of the Guard to range far afield. All she really knew was that there had been reports of monster sightings and attacks in the area.

Honestly, she didn’t much care. As long as she had a chance to fight something—and it was rare for her to be deployed where there wasn’t fighting—she was happy. Even though the cold seeped through her armor and into her bones; even though both her and her mare’s breath steamed in the cold (Tempest was holding up well, but Faerlin knew this had to be tough on the horse); even though she wasn’t sure she could place this village on a map, that’s how remote and unknown it was.

All in all it was a shit assignment.

And yet, Faerlin couldn’t be happier. Turns out, joining the military during peacetime wasn’t the same as when the Anirian Guard had been at its height. Instead of waging mighty campaigns against the neighboring kingdoms, she was forced to guard parties attended by simpering nobles. Or worse, to march in parades. Her hands clenched into fists at the thought; her talents were being wasted. So this assignment was a welcome change. It was also good that she was handling it solo: even her fellow soldiers grated on her nerves, and while she was fully capable as operating as part of a team, she hated traveling companions and preferred to work alone.

Her current destination soon resolved itself on the horizon. It was a village, the same as all the other types of villages she’d passed through in this region. However, her keen eyes and ears, as well as her well-trained instincts, told her something was different about this one. It took her a moment to figure out what it was, but when she did, she felt her heart speed up in anticipation and she checked her weapons to make sure they were still secure. Tempest picked up on her anxiety and picked up the pace slightly, not a full trot, but a faster walk. Or maybe it was just the possibility of getting under a roof for the night.

What Faerlin had noticed (subconsciously at first) was that the village was too quiet. Even at night, there should have been some noise, the creaking of floorboards as people went to the outhouse at night, the straggler drunks stumbling home from the tavern, all the myriad sounds of life. But this place was silent. On top of that, there wasn’t as much smoke rising from the chimneys as there should be, and given the snow and the cold, that was unusual. People could and did freeze to death in these parts.

Soon enough, the road took her into the village proper, and the smell hit her. Death and decay had a particular scent, one she was well familiar with from her work in the Anirian Guard. Tempest didn’t react. Then again, the horse was used to it as well. Faerlin was on guard, but there was nothing to see but the occasional body or some damage indicative of a fight. But not enough widespread destruction for it to be a full pitched battle.

As she turned the corner, she spotted two armed and armored men ahead. She grimaced, and reached for her helmet; while they didn’t seem immediately hostile, she didn’t recognize their colors and didn’t want to take any chances. Besides, the Anirian Guard wasn’t popular in many places. They were both too pretty for her tastes, in their shining armor. One of them had a silly clover painted on his helm. Her own armor was well-worn and serviceable, and the only marking on it was the insignias of both Vel Anir and House Weiroon.

Ignoring the confrontation between the two men—honestly, what a cliche—she directed Tempest to the body in the snow and dismounted, tossing the reins over a nearby post. Tempest didn’t need to be tied up, thankfully, and Faerlin didn’t intend to stay here long. Kneeling, she examined the wounds more closely. It didn’t look like the villager had put up much of a fight, nor did it seem that the injuries were inflicted by conventional weapons. Which meant she was probably up against a monster of some sort. She bared her teeth in a feral grin. Good. She needed a challenge.

Standing up, she turned to regard the men, all trace of the grin gone. In its place, she settled her most condescending look, not that it was visible under the helmet. “You two going to stop pissing long enough to help me hunt this thing or not?” She had no patience for fools, and unless they got their act together immediately she fully intended to move on without them. Tracking in the snow couldn’t be too difficult.

 

[Septimus]

He knew a stiff-back when he saw one, and it made him smile. It was a remorseless thing, more ugly than pleasant, but thankfully he had a helmet to disguise it. The sad part was, he was genuinely amused. At the very least, it was the kind of banter that - among men - often led to a wary friendship among strangers. Before he could respond, however, they were interrupted by another new arrival.

Another stiff-back, though of a different variety. A woman's voice was impossible to miss, and so was the fact she was from Vel Anir. Snorting, he turned and climbed up onto his horse. "You may want to help her." He says over his shoulder. "An ego like that will get her killed."

With a gentle nudge, Septimus and his horse turned north to head out into the snowy evening. "It's ghouls. Just save her the time of trying to figure it out herself." He'd been out here hunting alone, not having realized anyone else knew about it, and suddenly his investigation was being co-opted by a shining, black knight and a particularly ornery Anirian.

Fantastic evening, truly.

 

[Karl von Stehlen]

"Oh no...by all means, be my guest....I'm on vacation..." Karl said, his expression was still covered by his helmet, not to dissimilar to the others. "...besides....you seem to know what your doing...and I'd hate to get in the way of all that work...it'll save me the inconvenience of having to move too much...."

It was true, the knight had no obligations to hunt down this threat nor helping these two. If this had been some civilian or a more support oriented combatant...or maybe if they were just nicer, Karl probably wouldn't have a problem about joining forces. But these were armed and armored knights, especially given their attitude...and for the sake of whoever they serve, the should be able to withstand any attacks from these ghouls. Thus, nothing was stopping him from turning and simply leaving. Well, expect for the fact that this was a pain in the ass for his people....still, if these two insisted about being stuck up asses about it...

The knight's helmeted head turned towards the newcomer, before tilting his head in the direction of the white knight. "Better keep up this one...clearly he knows what he's doing..." The black knight said, as he urged his horse forward, trailing behind said knight.

Like Karl said, he disliked dealing with other knights; nothing with them was ever straightforward or cooperative, all thinking of themselves as the lone hero in their own little world. Heck, the black knight never talked like this to anyone, anyone but other knights, who seemed always to be asking for it...the infuriating part of it was, they usually did hold up well. Least at first, until the situation ends up overwhelming them...and someone else needs to inevitably jump in and tip the scale.

This white knight should really take his own advice.

This sort of lone hero mentality was generally discouraged in Karl's Order, whom always put emphasis on unit cohesion and unity. the thought was a well disciplined and coherent formation of knights can smash apart a group of lesser organized fighters with greater numbers. Their Order's history has proven that time and time again...which was funny, considering here Karl was, alone, with no support from his Order. His fault, Karl'll admit...and maybe this gaggle of knights was some sort of karmic punishment for not following Order protocol.

Still, the cards have been dealt...now they must be played...played like a set of winning cards...even against the odds of difference...​

 

[Faerlin]

Faerlin just grunted at the men’s posturing. Unlike them, she was not a knight—at least, she was assuming they were knights, given the armor, markings, and general pigheadedness—so she had no code to uphold, no honor to defend. It made her far deadlier, as she wasn't afraid to fight dirty. She was sure that she’d killed better men than them in every sense of the word. Besides, it was so typical for men to assume a strong woman who didn't apologize for her strength was egotistical; the same behavior in a man would’ve no doubt gotten her praised. It came up less in the Anirian Guard, but in these backwards regions she should've expected it. Still, she knew better than to erupt at some idiot (who didn’t even know her) and his misconceptions. So, instead of yelling at the clover knight, Faerlin just snorted. “Not dead yet.” And it wasn’t ego if she had the skills to back it up.

Mounting Tempest again—the horse didn’t protest the weight, though Faerlin knew the horse had to be getting tired—the guardswoman eyed the black knight as he approached her. Apparently, he was trying to bond with her or something. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t going to work; Faerlin didn’t really have time for fools, and so far these two were lumped into that category. “You both better keep up. Come on, we’re wasting time.” Her words were short and clipped and not at all friendly, a sign that she was quickly nearing the end of her patience. Although, she was almost always nearing the end of her patience. This sort of behavior would get them kicked out of the Anirian Guard in a heartbeat; getting the job quickly and efficiently was all that mattered, and so far all this talk was just delaying them.

Using her knees to guide Tempest, Faerlin sent her mare after the clover knight. It didn’t take them long to catch up. Just because she had a low opinion of the men didn’t mean they couldn’t be useful to her. “Tell me about these ghouls.” She’d never faced them before—though she was no stranger to all sorts of monsters and even undead—so gathering information on them seemed prudent. She was short-tempered and irritable, not reckless. Indeed, knowing her opponents was paramount.

Besides, if she found out what she needed, she could ditch these morons and take care of the problem herself.

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

A shaggy horse bore the slim figure in well made winter gear. The grays and whites of her cloak and furred cowl are juxtaposed with the flame red hair that is presently braided back, away from her face. The movement of the horse, as it walks around the bend and into town seems to flow with the rider, speaking to long hours spent in the saddle, giving horse and rider the same grace in the movement. Any rider would also know it would likely be a few minutes after dismounting that the lithe figure could walk with her own normal gait again. Her face is covered by the lower part of her cowl, keeping the cold from her face, but keen eyes would see a scarlet eyebrow rise as she took in the assembled armored figures.

A second flame ridden brow would join its twin as the emerald eyes took in the rest of the scene of the town. A quick tap of the knee brought the shaggy steed she rode to a halt well out of weapons range. Her head tracked across the scene quietly for a few heartbeats before her hands, empty of weapon, emerged from the cloak into view. They were garbed in what looked like soft, doeskin gloves that went well past the wrist and ended in a fur of some type near her elbow.

Her eyes alighted back on the figures, noting state of weaponry and armor. She may not be able to determine the scene at a glance like some of her instructors, but she felt fairly confident that these three were not the culprits of what had transpired here. She quit her pause, and resumed approaching with a tap of her heel, pulling the cowl from her face to reveal her face in full.

"Well met seems a bit..." she paused for a moment, eyes glancing at the village once more, "...jubilant for the scene. Nevertheless, I offer greeting..."

 

[Septimus]

He didn't give a rat's furry hind-end about Shiney and the Anirian. They, though, seemed to at least pretend to care about the ghouls in Blackwood. He supposed that, so far as things go, it could be much worse. They could have just left, or killed him. Either could still happen.

Before he could answer Faerlin, though, as a new woman approached town - this time from the direction the ghouls had fled. How ominous. Bringing his horse in close, though not so close as to startle her, his milky eyes studied her for a moment before grunting.

"Want to kill some ghouls?"

He said it she was being voluntold to do it, but he wasn't in the mood for polite greetings. Killing needed to be done, and every word wasted on pleasantry was a moment that killing wasn't being done.

Killing.

 

[Karl von Stehlen]

"Don't mind us...we're just a bunch of armored lunatics with nothing better to do with our time...or rather, nothing better on our minds...so get out of this while you can...for I fear that these ghouls would probably be much more hospitable then these two...and... probably a bit more mentally stable..." The black knight mused, his tone remaining indifferent, as he rode past the white knight with his leaning back to look first at the new comer...then at the white knight. "...C'mon, Clover...You heard the women...try not to slow her down...wouldn't want to waste her precious time...now would we?"

The black knight would continue to ride forward slowly, though he strayed not to far from the group. With his back side turned, it was hard to realize that his eyes were resting upon the nearby hills...eyes were looking, tracing...the shadows that danced about the forest surrounding the village...it's accompany noise masked by the hollows of the wind.

Daisy knew...her senses much sharper then the knight's...and as a result, Karl was able to pick up from her that somthing was more then just off. They were being watched...not by one pair of eyes...no...the eyes of many were upon them...watching from a vantage point...watching unseen...ready to retreat as they advanced...but, retreat to where? Considering the damage done to this village and the...others...it couldn't have been one or two of these ghouls. It was the entire self-appointed purpose that the knight was here for...to cut this nuisance at the head...although this particular head might be...big.​

 

[Faerlin]

As the other woman rode up, Faerlin evaluated her. This one was not a knight; she was garbed in a hooded and furred cowl, but beneath that the paladin could see the woman’s features were beautiful, the flame-red hair shocking against the wintery landscape. Then the newcomer spoke, and Faerlin put together a few facts. First, the clothes the woman was wearing were of the finest quality; next, that her bearing and posture were perfect, indicative of a noble upbringing; finally, that her accent (though softened by accents the guardswoman couldn’t identify) was posh, and most definitely Vel Anirian. All that added up to one thing: this flame-haired beauty was a scion of one of the noble houses of Vel Anir.

Idly, Faerlin wondered which one. The noblewoman wasn’t familiar to the paladin, not that she encountered many nobles on a regular basis. It didn’t really matter, though, since any member of the noble houses required a certain degree of respect.

Which meant that Faerlin had to be on her best behavior. Indeed, the change that came upon her—though it irked her that she now had to protect the noble instead of just charging ahead to hunt down the ghouls—was immediate and marked. Immediately, she straightened in her saddle and saluted. “M’lady.” Although the other woman hadn’t introduced herself, the paladin was sure enough in her assessment. Besides, if Faerlin was wrong, it cost her nothing, and if she was right she might score some points. While the paladin absolutely hated playing the social and political games many in the city delighted in, as a commoner from the streets of Vel Anir and as a soldier in the Anirian Guard she knew how to show the proper deference to her betters.

Of course, the same couldn’t be said for the men here. So much for chivalry. The insults to the paladin could be ignored; she was used to such, especially from full of men who had inflated egos. She enjoyed proving those ones wrong. The insults to the noblewoman, however, needed to be addressed. Wheeling to place herself between the noblewoman and the two knights, Faerlin scowled at them. “Mind your manners and your tongue. You are in the presence of nobility. She is certainly not to be bothered by such trivial tasks as taking care of these ghouls” Her voice came out scornful, but powerful and commandingly; though she wasn’t an officer, she had been trained to assume leadership and give orders, in all that entailed. It was merely bad luck and lack of opportunity (and though she’d never admit it, her own unwillingness to play nice with others) that had prevented her from being promoted.

Turning Tempest back around, Faerlin saluted the noblewoman again. “How may I be of service, m’lady?” It was...odd that the flame-haired noble was out here, now that Faerlin thought about it. Given the remote location and the recent monster attacks—as well as the fact that Faerlin had already been dispatched here—there was no reason for a member of the noble houses to be out here. Granted, they acted in mysterious ways sometimes, and granted, it wasn’t the paladin’s place to question, but it was certainly worrisome. Perhaps there was more going on here that met the eye.

Regardless, the paladin’s priorities had changed. Despite the fact that she had her orders (and despite the fact that she would much rather be hunting down monsters than dealing with nobles), Faerlin knew the safety of the noblewoman came first and foremost. Once the paladin had escorted and secured the flame-haired woman to a safe location, she could go battle the ghouls. No doubt these two men would still be slinging insults at one another by the time she got back; Faerlin had every confidence she could catch up to them, given how slowly they seemed to act.

Still, as the two men rode off, it was all the paladin could do not to follow them.

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

Valdyna's brows remained up at the badinage that occurred with her appearance, followed fairly quickly by the two male knights beginning to move on to hunt down the ghouls that had apparently perpetrated the travesty upon this village.

The female knight, however, seemed to hesitate. Dyna also noticed her posture change, though she had no way to note a change in demeanor. She knew the sight, it happened whenever someone who had served Vel Anir recognized one of the nobility. Valdyna could only hope this wasn't some stooge of her familys that would insist on dragging her back.

She smiled at the lady knight as she rode closer, letting the two male knights pass back the way she had come. She turned her horse to follow the two male knights and opened her mouth to speak, only to pause and look back at the men.

"Please do not make the accident of my birth become an issue. I am here alone because I don't want to deal with the bastardization of social grace that passes for Vel Anirian nobelese oblige. I am merely a fellow adventurer who happened upon this...grisly scene..." she took a look around, and the veneer of calm slipped a moment as she let the sickening scene affect her for a moment before the proverbial velvet cushion was drawn back over her features. "I can be of assistance, so let us keep the...gentlemen...company. And make sure they don't get too damaged in what is to come."

She then made to follow, nodding her head to hopefully cajole the lady knight into following along and not trying to detain her.

 

[Septimus]

He laughed, though it was a hollow sound; little more than a fetid breeze through a dead, dense wood. "Her loss." He replies to the Anirian Knight, who was clearly more troubled by custom than by deed - typical, really. Their focus was always on politics, even when lives hung in the balance. Well, maybe they didn't. The populations beyond the wall in Blackwood were few and far between.

"We're going to kill some ghouls, with or without 'M'lady.'" The snarky sarcasm he threw onto the title was the first sign of personality he'd displayed. Up until then he'd been deadpan and almost monotone, though never let it be said that a lack of personality stopped him from having a good time.

Turning his head to face Karl von Stehlen as they rode off, he cantered up alongside him and turned his helmeted head to regard him. At this range, there was no missing the fact that Septimus was surely blind with eyes like that, and with the moment passed, he went back to scanning the road ahead for any signs of ghoul activity.

If the two ladies wanted to head back to safety, that was fine by him. He could live with the Black Knight, but anything Anirian made him more prickly than his typical disposition inclined him to be.

 

[Karl von Stehlen]

"...If all it took was noble lineage too get you to take nice...perhaps I should have introduced myself earlier..." A grunt could be heard from the direction of the rode...almost an amused one, if one had to hazard a guess...as the black knight had come riding back towards the group...coming away from his little venture onto the outskirts...riding past the white knight, no doubt getting a good look at those eyes...but continued forward towards the other two. "...well met, madame...it is always a refreshing sight to see one who does not indulge in the gluttons of a noble birth...my name is Karl...if you cared to know."

Whatever it was, it seemed that Faerlin's reaction had been somthing worth noting for the knight. Karl himself said nothing of his last name; it was just how he greeted most people, just with his first name. Good thing too...most people just saw the armor that Karl wore...which distracted them from the man on the inside. This usually played to the knight's advantage...being able to be regarded outside of his title...be treated, as if he was anyone else...a disguise, almost, one that always allowed him to remain humble...

Karl's armor, as much as it was designed to protect, was also designed to elude and misguide...letting opponents make all the wrong assumptions...thinking they got the black knight all figured out...when in reality, Karl had kept all the ace cards hidden and ready in his hands... deception in more ways then one...and the surprise always being amusing to watch.

"While I hesitate to use the word "we" in this context...for obvious reasons...but for a lack of a better term..."we" are graceful to have you aboard..." The knight said, circling about towards the two females...first looking upon the armored one, then looking upon the one with more magical prowess. "...strength in numbers...even if we are to become an uncoordinated mess...better to stick together against the impending attack...then to be overrun as a lone hero..."​

 

[Faerlin]

Oh. Great. One of the so-called ‘above it all’ nobles. No doubt the flame-haired beauty really thought that, but Faerlin was sure that at the first sign of trouble the other woman would not hesitate to cash in on her family’s name and use her favors. The truth of the matter was, the other woman would never just be ‘a fellow adventurer,’ just as the paladin would never be a paragon of the noble graces. Some things simply could not be escaped.

Still, though the noblewoman hadn’t ordered Faerlin to let the other woman tag along the paladin wasn’t about to argue with the flame-haired beauty, especially since it meant Faerlin could continue following her original orders. Plus it seemed the noblewoman would follow them, so at least this was the guardswoman could keep an eye out for the other woman. Getting a noblewoman killed on her watch would get her drummed out of the army for sure. So at the first sign of danger, at the first hint the flame-haired beauty might be in harm’s way, Faerlin would whisk her away.

Not letting the 'gentlemen' get damaged, on the other hand, Faerlin couldn’t promise. However, she would not them know that. “As you wish, m’lady.” The paladin knew how to pick her battles.

Of course then the Clover knight had to get all pissy. Before Faerlin could respond however—that sort of behavior towards a noblewoman of Vel Anir could not be allowed to go unchallenged—the man rode off, leaving them in the tedious company of the black knight. The paladin gripped the reins tightly in anger, causing Tempest to fidget; immediately, Faerlin relaxed. She would not forget, though, and once she had used the Clover knight to deal with the ghouls, there would be a reckoning.

She'd also have to avoid killing the other knight in a fit of pique. It was a distinct possibility, given his annoying tendency to chatter. Faerlin wasn’t one for small talk. Time to see if she could get him to shut up. “I didn’t care to know. And the only noble lineage that matters is that of the King and the seven noble Houses of Vel Anir.” Her words practically came out in a growl, but it was clear to anyone listening that she really truly believed that. Faerling was a patriot through and through, a devoted to the people and the cause of Vel Anir.

Then he went on and on about how it was better to work as a team—not necessarily true, especially if they were an ‘uncoordinated mess,’ because those led to mistakes, and mistakes got people killed—and how grateful he was to have them there. If only Faerlin felt the same. “You get overrun a lot? Not much of a hero then.” She snorted derisively, but when she spoke next, her voice was deadly serious. “Word of advice? Stay out of my way, because if you mess up this hunt or get her killed,” the paladin nodded her head towards the flame-haired noblewoman, “you’ll have to answer to me.”

Then she turned and gestured that the other woman should proceed. “After you, m’lday.” Faerlin would take up the rear: it would allow her to keep an eye on her charge, defend them from any ambushes, and, best of all, allow her to avoid more inane comments.

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

Valdyna resisted the urge to let her nostrils flare at the m'ladying, it was exactly the kind of thing a spoiled noble would do, and she was trying to leave that life behind. She let the lady knight ride forward alone to converse with the black knight, Karl. With attention off of her, she mentally took herself to task, and took a deep breath before riding forward to join the group.

"We can be quit of the m'ladying, call me Dyna." She spoke simply, riding in the rear of the group.

She let her eyes roam over the armored forms mounted ahead of her, while she kept her eyes peeled to listen for signs around them. Ghouls didn't tend to be crafty or sneaky, but ghouls also didn't tend to raise themselves. Necromancers tended to trust in their undead minions, but there were no stone chiseled rules that said they couldn't work with the living. If they were dealing with a necromancer, then her skills would definitely be needed.

She felt the urge to chat, to ask what had originally drawn the others out this far from the civilized world, but the lessons of her dwarven friends on the trail had been learned well. She maintained her quiet demeanor to see if anyone or anything was following them.

 

[Karl von Stehlen]

"Funny she should mention it...I learned that lesson watching one of Vel Anir's finest...just as he was getting overrun himself...screaming about, as you Anirian like to do, about the superiority of us humans...seemed like a alright lad...pity he ended up getting squashed under the arse of a troll..." Karl snorted, ignoring the women's threats and riding past her, riding up next to the other side of Dyna. This incident had occurred not too long ago, back during his silver plate days...one of his first encounters with a Aniran to boot, and by no means an impressive one...the poor bastard had been a captain, from some household or another... the man had, in the typical Anirian self-righteousness, rushed ahead of his own formation in what some might call a "religious frenzy" when engaging a pack of massive trolls...and was quickly surrounded and beaten to an inch from his life...finished off by the butt cheeks of some aloof troll...it was facing this sight(plus the fact the trolls were vomiting acid) did the rest of the formation panic, and were quickly overrun by their much larger opponents.

It may had ended in total annihilation...if Karl hadn't been passing through on his return trip home...was one of his bloodiest, but the unit had survived...at the very least...perhaps this experience had help set the stage of his ultimate feat that earned him his black plate.

At this point, there wasn't really a "rear" of the group...seemed the meandering of the three had caused them to create a bit of a line formation, with Karl rode on the other side of Dyna...really, it was just the clump of these three, and the white knight riding up ahead.

"Better not linger....least you get ourselves squished under a ghoul's arse, hm?" With that, Karl gently patted Daisy, who knew the signal as to advance a bit quickly, pulling ahead of the two...before riding up next to the white knight

"You probably know this better then me...but the arrogance of Anirians never seems fails to astonish me...sooner to be their downfall...yet they consider a merit..." Karl grunted, as Daisy began to match speed with the white knight's steed."...though enough about them...to the matter at hands; you've any theories on numbers?...Or perhaps, composition of these...beasts?"​

 

[Septimus]

They were a motley assortment, with a mixture of dulled and shining plate. He could, at the very least, give them that. While the rest spoke, he let his eyes wander across the mangled branches clawing at the sky. Periodically they'd tangle together, creating a wretched canopy that seemed to threaten to choke the life from the cloudy winter sky.

It wasn't until Shiny Knight approached again that he realized someone was actually attempting to talk to him. "You ask about ghouls, and yet here you are, hunting them." He wasn't annoyed, nor angry, merely making an observation. The entire situation was baffling, but he had met stranger fates among the marshes.

With a sigh, he remembered - vaguely - a similar question from earlier. This was his home - Blackwood - so he supposed that made him the expert on what they were tracking. " 'Ghoul' is a generic name, like 'bird.' Just how ugly and big they are changes, as does the size of their pack; if they even have one.

A few constants; they're undead, ravenous, and utterly devoid of anything save base instinct. The village did yield some information. They aren't humanoid, or they'd have broken down the doors. We're likely dealing with a pack of beasts. Might have been wolves before, or - if we're unlucky - they're fleshcrafted misfits, combining the 'best' aspects of various species. Either new to the area, or ranging wide to fend off starvation - I'd wager they were fending off starvation. Not a lot left of the first ones they got to."

He shrugged, the road winding down into a defile with rocky embankments on either side. "Find the barrow, kill the problem. It'll be somewhere dark and out of the way, probably dug out of the ground. Forget caves, think groundhogs. Nocturnal, too. Won't see them out for a few more hours I'm sure."

They may as well have run out the hounds to chase foxes, as his tone had scarcely varied beyond a monotone assessment that the weather had been a bit off the day before.

 

[Faerlin]

Faerlin gritted her teeth. Between the surly clover knight, the annoying black knight, and the ‘friendly’ noble, this group was definitely going to get on the paladin’s nerves. Granted, she knew she wasn’t easy to get along with, which is why she’d tried to shut down all conversations to begin with. They had a goal, and presumably a destination, so they should proceed with all haste and not waste time on idle chit-chat.

Unfortunately she was one against many here though. At least her harsh reply had prompted an equally hard response from the black knight, who then rode ahead to be with the clover knight. The paladin smirked. She very much doubted the black knight was telling the truth, or at least had been mistaken about what he saw. It was much more likely the knight had seen mercenaries, or those assuming the mantle of the Anirian Guard for reasons of their own, because no captain and no unit from the army would let themselves get taken down by something so weak as a pack of trolls, acid breathing or no. The man departed before Faerlin could laugh in his face and then needle him some more though.

That left the two women stuck in the back; Faerlin suddenly felt incredibly awkward to be saddled with the noblewoman. Although the paladin had wanted to be in the back, she’d been hoping at least one of the men would stay behind to entertain the flame-haired beauty. Faerlin certainly wasn’t up to the task.

At the mention of ghouls up ahead, the paladin strained her ears to catch what the clover knight was saying. Just because both men were at the top of her list for those who needed to be taught a lesson didn’t mean she couldn’t learn something from them. At the very least, they were potential future opponents, and she would observe their behaviors. It never hurt to be prepared. Though it was hard to catch every word, Faerlin caught the gist of the explanation: undead, likely bestial, hungry, and an underground burrow. Seemed fairly straightforward. Again, though the paladin hadn’t faced ghouls specifically, she’d encountered all manner of monsters over the years and wasn’t particularly worried. Besides, even if she had doubts about this group—and she had many, many doubts—at the very least they could slow down the ghouls until the paladin could deal with them.

There were still a few pieces of information that might be relevant. She called ahead, although not too loudly so as not to alert their quarry. “What do these burrows look like?” Mostly, she wanted some indication of the signs to look out for. “And what resistances and weaknesses do ghouls have?” Undead could be tricky: sometimes just damaging them was enough to kill (or re-kill, or destroy or whatever) them, while other times specific conditions had to be met before their undead existence ceased. But if the only way to kill a ghoul was to cut off their heads, for instance, Faerlin wasn’t going to waste time stabbing them in the heart.

Actually, cutting off the head was a pretty surefire way to kill anything, so many she should just stick to that.

The silence between the two women grew, and even though Faerlin wasn’t social by any stretch of the imagination, she imagined the noblewoman would want to be entertained. Besides, the paladin still didn’t know who had sent the flame-haired woman or why she was out here to begin with, so many asking a few questions would be prudent. “What brings you out here m’l—Dyna.” Faerlin’s voice came out gruffly and not particularly subtly about her intentions. This was going to be tough. Deference to the nobles was practically beaten into her, and she wasn’t really much good in an interrogation.

Not that this was an interrogation, necessarily. It was just a mystery that needed to be solved. If this was a game being played by the Houses, the more informed Faerlin was, the more likely she was to survive it.

 

[Karl von Stehlen]

“I suppose that someone is learning...though I’m surprised she didn’t know more...but you answered only half my question...while also answering a question I never asked." Karl replied, his tone matched the white knight to a point that you’d think the two were talking about something much more mundane. "I've had the pleasure in meeting some of these things within the past few weeks...so I am well antiquated of what these creatures are...though, you did answer half of my question...which is concerning...you see, come from the South lands...the only reason I've come this far North is that we have been having minor incursions of ghouls at the borders of my own realm...not enough to warrant the full force action from the realm, but enough to be noticeable...the ones we've encounter have been much more feral and savage then what you suggested...I’d hazard a guess that they had most likely driven into madness by starvation...Perhaps after they've broken away from their pack...too weak to take on a multitude of prey on their own...soon finding they're way Southwards and into the hinterlands...right to our borders...wouldn't be much of a problem if it had been one or two...but we've had a steady trickle of them in the recent week...ever village outside of our borders I've passed on the way here have said the same thing, a chain of ghoul sightings and incidences...everyone of them pointed me in this direction...I'm sure Ms.SuperiorityComplex back there is here for the same reason: ghouls at the gates of her beloved, human kingdom...why else would her betters send her out this far from the border?"

Karl took a moment to glance back at the two women behind him, before looking towards the white knight. "...still...that is not even half the story...I don’t know how far you’ve patrolled, but this has not been the first village I’ve encounter like this...not since entering this realm, anyways...the odd thing is, the damage done to some of these villages mirrors the exact opposite of what we’ve seen in the last village...thus it comes back to my question about the numbers: How big do you suppose this particular pack to be...judging by what you know...for i am curious on how much attrition this particular pack can afford...that, and how many heads must be cut to end the onslaught.”​

 

[Valdyna Weiroon]

Dyna perked an ear as information was passed along. The White Knight was more knowledgeable than she had expected, and she noted that down mentally. She was tired of the biting comments back and forth, particularly form the Black Knight. Such hubris was why she had never returned to Vel Anir after her parents had died. Vultures had tried to get in on the Weiroon family purview, but her family remained strong even as one patriarch passed and a new matriarch ascended.

“What brings you out here m’l—Dyna.”

Dyna returned to the hear and now, pulling her attention from their surrounds to the Vel Anirian beside her. She took a moment to think about that answer, and looked the lady knight in the eyes.

"I was travelling back to Alliria from visiting friends in the Dwarven kingdoms." She nodded towards one of the peaks in the distance. "I was taking him up on the offer to begin learning Rune Magic. I have plans to write my third term paper on the commonalities between Rune Magic and Collegiate Magic.." She trailed off, she was likely saying more than her companion cared about. "What of you, what drew you here?"

 

[Septimus]

The defile ended, and the hooves of his horse sank deep into the marshy path that wound upward. That was the other thing - the one he hadn't mentioned. In order to dig, they'd need to find dry ground, which meant the nearby hills. It's where they were headed. A bit of elevation would allow them to construct a barrow without it collapsing on them because the ground was holding too much moisture.

The voices behind him told him the women were having a conversation, which suited him just fine. One was prickly, and the other posh. He supposed it could have been worse. A question was posed in there, somewhere, and it took him a moment to process.

"A mound." He replies. "Likely it'll be a barren patch of ground with a few entry holes that extends deeper below a hill or other elevated landmark. Wet ground won't let them dig, it'll just flood or collapse." He gestured vaguely to a line of hills maybe a fifteen minute ride away, if they had good speed.

And weaknesses? "Don't aim for the head - it's not a guarantee. Just take off limbs until they stop moving. We can burn them when we're done."

 

[Faerlin]

Faerlin steadfastly did her best to ignore the steady drone of words coming from the black knight. It was seemingly unending and not particularly pleasant. He wasn’t clever, or funny, or charming, but instead just full of hot air. The paladin had already dismissed him as an idiot; not only did he seem insecure, he would not cease his prattling for even a moment. Idly she toyed with the idea of cursing him with something to get a blessed moment of silence, but even though she so annoyed she was starting to get a headache, it wasn’t worth wasting her magic on someone so insignificant.

Still, if he called her Ms. Superiority Complex again she might just do it.

The noblewoman was far more interesting: while Faerlin avoided nobles (well, encountered them infrequently was more honest), it was odd to see one out so far from Vel Anir. It was also concerning. The noble families never did anything without a reason, and given that the paladin didn’t know Dyna’s House, it was very much possible there were competing interests at play here. The conversation about magic went a little bit over Faerlin’s head—the paladin’s own magic came from a different source, obviously, and it wasn’t like the daughter of commoners could be educated, let alone attend this college thing—but she supposed a response was warranted. “Dunno about that, but we’re not close to Vel Anir and these aren’t the safest lands.” The ghoul attacks seemed to make that clear. “It seems a far distance to travel just to meet some dwarves.” Faerlin’s voice was rough, but not exactly unkind, more unused to interacting with others than anything else.

Hopefully it wasn’t too clear that the paladin was digging for information. She wished they’d stumble upon these ghouls right away and get to fighting. Then she could slay them, go home, and not have to deal with any of these people. Unfortunately, the monsters were not so obliging. They never seemed to be where one wanted them, after all.

At least her own presence was more easily explained. “Orders. Captain said they’d got reports of disturbances, and apparently we’ve got a stake out here or something.” Faerlin hadn’t asked, nor did she care; her job was to go where she was told and jump as high as possible. It didn’t bother her in the slightest. In fact, it was good to know her place, have her purpose. And unlike these knights, who no doubt had stupid oaths to uphold, all Faerlin had to know was that the defense and safety of the people of Vel Anir was first and foremost.

Finally, something useful from the two men. Faerlin would’ve figured out that decapitation wasn’t useful quickly enough, but a few moments could make all the difference in the battle. “Thanks,” she called out gruffly, which might surprise her unwanted companions. Just because she was abrasive and irritable didn’t mean she was always rude. Sometimes it was deliberate—like her words to the black knight earlier—but most of the time she just got so angry at the incompetence of people that she lost it.

On the subject of incompetence, the black knight kept droning on and on. Rolling her eyes, the paladin leaned slightly over in her saddle and dropped her voice as low as she could and still be heard. “Someone likes the sound of his voice a little too much, wouldn’t you agree?” Even the socially awkward Faerlin could make that particular observation and joke. Hopefully Dyna would appreciate it, even if the flame-haired beauty was a noble and probably didn’t want to be near a commoner any more than the paladin wanted to be near the noble.

Who knows, maybe the other woman would even laugh.

 

[Septimus]

He was pleased, though not surprised, that the world's most arrogant woman was capable of sometimes having manners. Or, perhaps not arrogance. Maybe it was just pure drive - drive to succeed where people thought she wouldn't. There was even the chance she was just extremely competitive and a lone wolf, which added together to make her about as personable as a ghoul's breath.

That said, he wasn't overly bothered by his company now that he'd adjusted to the fact he had three anchors pulling on him. Trotting along, the reins held loose in his armored hand, he steered the horse ever further into the foreboding woods, until, finally, hillocks began to peak out above the canopy.

The closer to the mountains they got, the more the marshes receded, until, finally, they came across the first bit of debris that said the nest was close; a torso.

"Go on foot." He says, swinging down and off his steed. "And don't tie your horses up. They don't make good bait anyway." He'd tried more than once - just to be safe.

Setting his palm on the pommel of his sword, he waited for the others to dismount before moving forward and into the thinned out line of trees that lead to the nearest mountain slope. A bit of blood had trickled this way, telling him that whatever had gnawed the ribcage had gone this way after.

Faerlin Valdyna Weiroon Karl von Stehlen