Open Chronicles Blood and Burdens

[Askandr Korotkov Stryzga]

The night air loomed beneath the moon with an ominous mist, twisting against the thick trees of a small forest in the Allir Reach. It was late, a time when decent farm folk would never dare to walk the lands. And they knew why. There, in a forest clearing, laid a campsite, a tent that crumpled into the floor with a recently extinguished campfire; hunched over was a figure garbed in a shrouded midnight plate, looming over a dead wild man dressed in a brigand’s attire.

Its head with helmet raised slightly, exposing a pale-fanged maw that dug into the neck of the bandit, slaking itself from the lifeblood that leaked from mortal wounds. He was ravenous; it had been weeks since his last feed, and traces of blood crusted his now-empty flasks. Ichor dripped from his fangs down past his lips and onto his chin as he continued to feed, finding his body rejuvenated with each drop extracted.

He was a lowly thug, a minor nuisance. Askandr could taste it in the blood. Even so, food was food, and he needed as much of it as possible. Despite gorging himself fully and emptying the bandit of ichor, he was still hungry. It was still hungry. Askandr tossed the corpse aside like an empty flagon, rising and pulling his sword that found itself carved deep into a nearby tree. He stumbled from the clearing into the thinner parts of the forest, almost blood-drunk, half from gorging himself, half from the still unsated thirst that scratched at his mind.

He looked like the walking dead to anyone watching, his steps lethargic and dipped with a heavy stumble, barely holding on to his great sword, dragging it along the forest floor as it plowed into the soil behind him.

 

[Josai]

It was late at night, and Syr Sando and Syr Josai kept warm by the fire. On the hunt for brigands with a bounty on their head.

It was Josai's least favorite type of work. Mercenary work. Dispatching outlaws and raiders. Many of whom were just, well, hungry men and women. Be they human, ork, or goblin. But coin was coin. And even the Knights of Anathaeum needed earnings in this world.

Still, she just wished they weren't so far from home.

The flame popped and crackled. Spat embers up into the air as the cool night wind fed the golden tongues that ate so hungrily at the lumber.

"Like we won't find their trail again 'til mornin," the flaxen haired Syr Sando said.

Syr Josai nod. Her spear rest nearby. Her hat down beside her. "Likely so, yes,"

Syr Sando stared at the fire. "I'll take first watch then," he made to get up, But Josai was already fixing her hat upon her head and grabbing up her spear.

"Last I checked, Syr, I was the Dusker," she winked. "I shall relieve you in four hours,"

Sando laughed. "Well, best I get off to sleep then,"

"See that you do," Josai said with a nod, and ventured into the forest to patrol the perimeter of their small camp in the forest.

Askandr Korotkov Stryzga

 

[Askandr Korotkov Stryzga]

Askandr continued to lumber, slogging with each step, aimless in direction with every few paces stumbling into the dirt. He kept at this until suddenly, his body tensed. That itching started again, a shrieking noise in the back of his mind as his nose noticed the air grow thick with an all too familiar scent. Blood. Specifically the two occupants of a campfire.

You can smell it, can't you?

A surge of energy sprang from the depths of his spirit, his body shifting as his armor rattled along with shaking limbs, bones almost cracking into place, his posture straightening. All he could think about was the scent. All he could do was get closer to it.

He hoped what he found was a beast of terrible power or a criminal of great infamy. Someone strong, someone who used that strength as he did. Was it because of his qualms with feeding on the innocent, feeding on the weak, or was it something else...?

They taste better, don't they?

There was no time to answer that. His legs went from a mad dash, armor clanking as he crashed and shoved aside the shrubbery, animals sensing his presence almost immediately and dispersing from his direction. He was never the silent type when it came to this. There was never any need. A sick sense of pride manifested beneath his heart, knowing how easy it could be to feed.

 

[Ashvyr Justinian]

Moonlight shafted over the boughs of countless trees, lighting Justinian’s path as he rode his horse through the woods. There was a soft breeze, bitterly cold yet refreshing too, keeping him awake as Pebbles trotted faithfully along, nickering once or twice as its head stooped here and there to snatch a mouthful of grass. The Allir Reach, though he’d heard of dangers and threats that would turn a less bold man away, it all seemed pretty enough.

So pretty, it was rather sickening.

As Justinian stirred Pebbles into a canter, Justinian thought about all the things he hated. Deceptively pretty forests were one of them, and he didn’t know quite why. But as his eyes roamed over the glimmering green and occasional shoots of color from wildflowers, and at the brilliant beams of starlight and a startled rabbit, Justinian’s mood threatened to sour. He hated it. Candy, hummingbirds, laughing children and butterflies and...

He stopped.

More adorable fucking rabbits, a snake, a small deer bounded his way, eyes wild with fright. It didn’t take long for Justinian to hear the sounds of something vile and savage crashing through the forest. It didn’t take him long to smell it either, for it reeked of blood and death and gods knew what else. He looked ahead, his eyes narrowing as his sight zoned in on the faraway light of a fire. Wonderful. Of all the fucking nights and he had to go play hero now?

Justinian considered leaving. He wasn’t the prey here and he really wasn’t in the mood. But that damn stench was getting strong, giving him a headache that he knew would grow and probably bring with it pangs of guilt. Shit.

He kicked Pebbles into a gallop. Pebbles, eager to please like any filthy pet, bounded through the trees and underbrush, and he reigned in hard directly in the path of the foul disgusting shitstain trying to accost some dumbass campers. Pebbles reared, eclipsed against the knight as Justin drew his sword, the steel glittering along its piercing length, matching his plates of armor. How heroic! Could anything be more cliché?

It was some kind of zombie, maybe a vampire. Something stupid. God, it smelled.

“Ugh. I hate you,” Justin sighed wearily.

 

[Dauner]

Night in the Reach was always one of Dauner's favorite times, especially since it was the time at which it was most convenient to sneak out of Sovereignty Castle, without being noticed by Ayana. Being the Supreme Monarch was great and all, but staying within the castle walls all day long, every day, could get really boring. Dauner was a thrill seeker by nature, and thus couldn't stop himself from acting the part, even if he wanted to.

Riding atop his giant demon wolf, Garios, Dauner strolled through the forest, in search of excitement. But instead, it was boredom that accompanied him all the way.

"I wish some mythical beasts would go on a rampage more often" he mumbled to himself. Garios uttered a cry in approval, as he, too, was feeling bored with just walking around.

"Gagh! Screw it" he snapped. He proceeded with activating his mind's eye, and sensing a large expanse of the surrounding area.

Relief would come to him as he detected a number of people around, the most peculiar of them, giving off a crimson aura. That could only mean either this person had been on a killing spree lately, or he had consumed quite a bit of blood. But Dauner didn't concern himself with that much. Instead, he headed towards the ones that were closest to him. A party of three, apparently, which had set camp for the night.

---

Askandr Korotkov Stryzga | Josai | Ashvyr Justinian​

 

[Askandr Korotkov Stryzga]

That mad dash turned frantic, new smells overloading the beast within Askandr. His heart was without a pulse, but the excitement garnered from his surroundings was wholly evident. He zipped from tree to tree, moving much too fast for anyone in such encumbering armor.

Justinian would notice a blackened blur move from tree trunk to tree trunk, stopping a few paces before him and his horse. Askandr's head was raised to the sky, and body limp, limbs dangling like a mindless drone surveying the field.

Suddenly, his head snapped back and down, a clatter as plate clanked on plate and bones crackling with such sudden movement. Beneath the shadowed visor, Justinian could see a singular red eye glowing with hunger.

Askandr stopped, his eyes staring at the knight. He stood there, posture revealing little as his head tilted. He felt a pang of pain dull upon the back of his head, fighting the urge to pounce upon the man and his horse and gorge himself. He had to remember what he once was, at least for now, in front of this unknown figure. He smelled the air, the figure in front of him did not smell of brigandry nor did he look like a highwayman. If anything, it reminded him of the past...

A rumbling could be heard, eerie in nature, neither man nor beast but a mixture of both. Askandr searched for the right words, but his blood-muddled mind could barely scrape a thought not pertaining to blood at the moment.

"Leave...."

 

[Josai]

Syr Sando looked to the flame as Josai's figure seemed to meld with the shadows of the surrounding woods. He sighed, and covered up the fire. Let it choke and go out.

Within the confines of the forest, betwixt the foliage and shrubbery, leaves shook and branches rattled with the gust of the night's wind. Josai moved like a creature born to the shadows. The hidden steps that came soft and silent against leaf litter and dried pine needles, her robes, bundled and tied down to prevent snag and loud scratch, her spears head bundled in dark cloth, the three charms tied to the shaft, wrapped tight.

It was the cacophony of armor, the scrape and clatter of steel in the distance that had her crouch low, eyes wide as her lips muttered the words of a spell.

Moons two, moons true,
let thy light of this dark night
hide me from my foes sight,

Cool mists that swirl and kiss,
Obscuring scent, and hunger's relent,
hide me from my foes intent.

The cool air about her seemed to respond. Swirling a magick blue mist that traced about her. It would obfuscate her presence from those around. Make her harder to detect.

Just as the clamor came louder. Josai crept toward it. Spear held low as the brambles and thickets parted with her approach. She would happen upon the scene. Armored thing stood tall against armored man. Her breath hitched, and her fingers worked loose the ties of the wraps about her spear. The obsidian charm fell free, runed as the black glass sphere was, it pulled with it the weight of death's magick. Then slipped the white bone of fox's jaw, stirring the whiles of the Wyld about her, and last came the Loch's silver bell, its ring cool and clear.

From beneath her wide brimmed hat, Josai did watch, her hand already on the cloth sleeve that kept the cold steel point of her spear sheathed.

For now, she would but watch, and see how things unfolded between the creature and the man, her mind cycling through the cants and runes that helped her will her magick through her focus. The winged spear with shaft of cedar wood.

 

[Ashvyr Justinian]

Oh. It talked. And apparently wanted him to leave. Again Justin sighed, this time more to himself, weighing the consequences of the many options open to him. He could initiate a battle and kill the brute – or get killed himself, whatever – or run away like as sensible person, or… well, damn it, that seemed like the only real options there were, weren’t they?

Justin eyed the noxious being. He decided he was facing a lich or a vampire. Zombies couldn’t talk. Right? He frowned. He wasn’t that experienced in facing zombies, liches, or vampires, and frankly wasn’t too interested in killing this particular poor sap. If he succeeded in downing it, that carried with it its own consequences, and fuck it, he really hated life when consequences happened. Especially when none of it involved a trophy or even a pat on the back for a job well done. If sloppily.

Justin’s peripheral sight and sharp hearing brought to his attention a slight movement, and caught someone with a lance or something creep up to watch all the excitement. He heard the clear, crystalline sound of some sort of bell or ringing trinket. He wondered if he was now facing two enemies, and wondered if he was really up to withstanding all this bullshit.

Justin looked back at the lich/vampire/whatever. “Down, boy,” he muttered. He looked at the shadowy figure still hidden in the shadows of the forest, or at least it thought. “Hail. Now look here, I can see you. Can you two just… I don’t know. Kill each other? Save me the trouble…” he hesitated, then prodded Pebbles’ flank a little with a spur, backing the horse up a little so that the lich-vampire-thing and the shadowy figure were facing each other.

“Get to the killing,” he advised helpfully.

 

[Askandr Korotkov Stryzga]

The grip on his great sword became vice-like in strength. The dwarvish runes along the blade started droning as they shone red, Askandr’s head snapping to the newcomers with a growl. His instincts forced a leap back and away from everyone else as his sword raised into a stance, the only semblance of knightly bearing aside from his plated raiment.

Was this a trap? An ambush meant to draw him? That scent he was tracking came from the newcomers. Red eyes darted over to scan them, they did not seem to be bandits either, and he had feasted on many to know their kind. His fingers wound tighter against the hilt, his body shaking, armor clattering along with it. It took all Askandr could muster not to run at them with savage abandon. The previous drink had spurred his inner beast, making it daring, emboldened by the blood.

Justin’s words did not help to calm Askandr, his teeth baring sharp beneath his helm. Still, the raking at the back of his mind honed with each claw, the pain keener until it resembled a knifepoint splitting him between the eyes.

"Leave...this...place...now." It was all he could muster once more. A warning, promising more than words, should something not be done. The message was meant for all who could hear it, the baritone of his voice scraping with a wicked snarl.

 

[Josai]

She'd been made. Well, no use in hiding it now.

Her hand pulled free the cloth and revealed the runed spearhead. Proud silver wings splayed out at the base of the pointed head.

The man spoke of killing. She let out a cool breath, re-gripped her weapon and emerged from the shadows, rest it against her shoulder, its moonlit metal bright and high in the dark of night.

She stared at the creature. Her hand firm about her own weapon, her face occluded by the shadow beneath her wide brimmed hat. "And if I do not, what then?" she called out.

 

[Dauner]

Dauner wasn't in any hurry, so he took his time getting to the camp, but stopped before he could get there. He could sense that the bloodied being, had encountered someone else, and by all indications, it seemed to him like they were going to fight.

Normally, Dauner wouldn't interfere in other's fights, and he had no intentions of doing so today, unless the situation called for it. What intrigued him, was that the presence of one of the three from the camp weakened greatly, almost to the point where it was hard to detect her. If Dauner hadn't been actively watching them with his mind's eye, he would have found it hard to detect her presence again. More intriguing still, was that this happened fairly close to where the other two were about to engage.

Dauner couldn't help but want to know more about what was up, and so he dismounted from Garios. "Go play around" he said to the wolf, who happily bounced away. With this, Dauner took to the trees, using shadow strides to eliminate all noise he would have made, and then leapt from tree to tree, as he headed to where the three were. Upon arriving, he would simply sit atop a tree, and watched, for now, how the situation unraveled.

---

Askandr Korotkov Stryzga | Josai | Ashvyr Justinian​

 

[Ashvyr Justinian]

Justin said nothing as he tried to figure out who was talking to her before deciding it didn’t matter. Nor did he much care. But it appeared he had made a solid misjudgment on the bloodlust of his two new acquaintances; neither seemed willing to move further. The shadowy figure did emerge, showing off a respectable spear but doing nothing more. The zombie vampire lich thing managed a few unimpressive sounds that conveyed a clear threat in tone.

The shadowy figure challenged it in a voice that was decidedly female. Well, what explained the gaudy spearhead, Justin thought. Ladies were always into pretty trinkets.

Justin mumbled something unintelligible before he spun the sword in his hand. Star and moonlight sparkled off the silver accents running along the blade before he sheathed it in the leather scabbard tied to his waist, though he neither removed nor loosened his grip on the handle. He looked pointedly at the lich.

“Look, friend. I’m only here due to circumstances beyond our control. Believe me, I’d leave willingly, but seems to me you’re looking to eat some people who probably aren’t willing to submit to your cannibalistic tendencies. And… well, I guess if I let you eat their brains I might be a considered an accomplice to the crime by any meddling authorities.”

What an inconvenience that would be.

“As for you,” Justin went on, turning his eyes to the spearwoman. “You didn’t come here alone, eh? I guess they must be hiding. Anyway,” he said to the lich, “I have to stop you. Unless you’d like to go away? Please go away.”

 

[Askandr Korotkov Stryzga]

Another scent, another pair, caused Askandr's back to tense further; taking a cautious step backward, head swiveling, searching for those new arrivals, they made no sound in their approach, but his nose was more than capable of picking up another foreign scent. He shifted in his armor, trying to calm the predatory instincts within before they took over.

"You will see another sunrise if you do so." Askandr stared at Josai before swinging his vision to Justin, a clear distaste in his voice before he spoke. "It is only cannibalism if we are equal, squire. And I've no need of their flesh, only their blood. The ones I hunt are my prey, bandits, and the like, nothing more."

He spoke those words to himself just as much as he did to those around him, finding the blood lust fading back to more manageable levels. His stance straightened, greatsword planted on the ground with his hands atop the pommel. The way he stood harkened back to his days as a paragon of light, rigid and unwavering.

"I ask once again, leave this place if you've no purpose aside from sightseeing the woods at its darkest. This is my domain to guard, and I do not welcome trespassers."

 

[Josai]

Assumption upon assumption. The spear witch smirked.

"You think yourself lord of this land, blood drinker?" she called out. Yet the armored creature had mentioned bandits, and the duty to guard this domain. Her eyes hardened, yet she kept her spear rested upon her shoulder, her breath steady as the three charms that hung from its neck stayed eerily still.

The strange man with mercurial mood made a guess. What led him to believe she traveled with company she couldn't know. But she would not trust the man who called for blood so soon as sensing them both.

"I have business in these lands, blood drinker. I hunt brigands, bandits," she said with shaded smile. "Mayhaps the very ones you drank?" She lifted her chin. "Show me your kills, and maybe I'll get out of your hair," she didn't mind a job made easier.

 

[Ashvyr Justinian]

Squire? Justinian frowned, thinking to correct the creature, who, it appeared, was indeed a vampire thirsting for blood. A daft vampire. Then, as with many things, Justin decided it didn’t matter.

Squire. Suddenly Justin smiled and then laughed. Perhaps to the surprise of the others it wasn’t a mocking snort or otherwise unpleasant sound, but a light chuckle full of mirth. Beneath him Pebbles nickered and stamped one hoof, as if sharing in the unspoken joke. Stupid animal.

“Squire,” Justin repeated. He released the sword. He slid off the horse before tossing the reins over a low-hanging bough. He smirked, leaning against the tree. “Well, all right. Have it your way.”

He waited until the spearwoman finished speaking. It seemed she and the vampire shared a common prey, if not an attitude, and dared the leech to show her its most recent hunt. Justin considered this last request, not recalling any signs cautioning of brigands in this part of the Allir Reach… but then again, he might have just missed it. Or they might have been so common any warning about them was silly.

“Look, if you’re not going to kill each other, doesn’t it make sense to work together to rid the lands of these bandits or whatever?” Justin finally asked.

You had to spell it out to people, sometimes…

“I have business here too, but I’m not going to bore you… either of you… singing about my noble intentions,” Justin said dryly. “Why don’t you, good vampire, think of me as a guest who’d like to take a nap for the night? I’ll pay you back the favor if you want.”

He bowed. “To show you my friendly nature, I’m Ashvyr Justinian.” Straightening, he gestured to the horse. “This is Pebbles. A displeasure to meet you, I’m sure, but let’s not focus on that.”

 

[Askandr Korotkov Stryzga]

Askandr paused, silent as he allowed the other two to speak. The trading of words slowly subdued the beast within, reminding himself once more why he pursued the bandits here. At Josai's words, his grip tightened upon the pommel of his blade.

"If you think it an easier path for your job, bounty hunter, then by all means." He replied, tilting his head to his right shoulder, signaling the general direction of where his encounter occurred. "However, if you wish to exalt in the hunt and earn your coin, the information I have gathered points their hideout north of where we stand."

His head swiveled back towards Justin, letting the newcomer make his point and make introductions. Askandr remained silent, picking at every word the knight uttered. If he detested anything Justin had said, he did not make it known, his plated armor obscuring every inch of skin or hair. Once the mounted knight was finished, Askandr returned the gesture with a simple nod.

"I am Askandr Korotkov Stryzga..." His mind scoured for an adequate title. The opportunity to make introductions such as this rarely came ever since his exile. It took a moment before he finally found an adequate designation for himself.

"Monster."

Ashvyr Justinian Dauner Josai

 

[Josai]

No, she did not care if their quarry were done and dead, so long as she could collect. The sooner she and Syr Sando could make the long trek back to their home.

These were not their lands. The Reach.

Though the Wylds of the Valen were not so far, the lords of this land, and their plight were of little matter to her. But to the Order. She smiled, wistful.

The monsterous one spoke of bandits, cast doubt on her honor, as so many often did.

The mercurial man spoke next, chaffed at having been called squire, and working their horse to a bough, said they should work together and gave his name, along with more of his acerbic mood.

The monsterous one gave his name.

"Proud ones, aren't ya," she nod at them both. "Josai," she offered, a quick snap and flick of her fingers, gesticulating a seal, dropped the veil of obfuscation from her visage. "Well, Monster, if you don't mind working with a Witch, then I'll gladly take you up on this..." her eyes flicked to the dour one. "Alliance,"

Ashvyr Justinian Askandr Korotkov Stryzga Dauner

 

[Ashvyr Justinian]

Askandr and Josai. Committing the names to memory, Justin turned to his horse. Patting the beast on the neck he removed one of the burdens the animal carried – a masterfully crafted piece of armor; a gilded, silver-toned steel helm. It was clearly made for an honored knight, and Justin handled it carefully as he slid it onto his head. The helm transformed his appearance into that of a noble being, an alteration he was not aware of as he turned back to his new acquaintances.

He smiled mirthlessly at Askandr as the vampire titled himself a monster. Perhaps he might be, and it was ironic that he should all himself with a witch who seemed made to deal a quick death with his kind. But Justin… well, who could say?

Either way, the monster’s given name was very knightly, a detail that didn’t escape Justin’s notice. His eyes slid up and down the vampire, wondering, if very briefly, at the unfortunate soul’s history. It wasn’t much his business, but Justin was occasionally interested in tragic backstories and grievous tales of sorrow and loss. It kept life from being too boring, and offered much-needed distraction.

“Well,” Justin said placidly, “are you going to lead the way, milord Askandr?”

 

[Askandr Korotkov Stryzga]

Askandr waited, hearing the words of the others, his eyes scanning between the two for information that they would not part with using words.

His eyes shifted from Josai and her companion, unsure of what to make of the quieter of the pair. She mentioned herself as a witch, brows furrowing at her statement. Witches were a wildcard in his experience, and he would keep a close eye on that.

"I have done much worse." He nodded, approving the temporary alliance for the moment. The beast dwelled within knew this would prove advantageous for their goals. A common enemy, a common prey. One step closer if the night went well.

With a nod to Josai, he turned to Justin. His armor was polished and well-crafted but plated lightly and not as sturdy as the harness worn by most knights; despite its less defensive build, Askandr knew quality when he saw it. However, he could not find any dents or scratches. Even well-maintained steel would show the scars of battle.

"Keep up. You will have no trouble following my pace if you think yourself fit enough to fight. That armor of yours could use some live testing, squire." The last bit was thrown to Justin, a remark regarding the pristine condition of his armor.

Askandr sheathed the black blade onto his back once more, turning away from them and towards the direction of their mark. His cloak swayed with his turn, the vampire not bothering to look back at the other two as he moved. He did not need to; if they wished to follow, they would.

Josai Ashvyr Justinian

 

[Josai]

Josai smirked.

Syr Sando would be more than alright on his own. Still, she needed to alert the man.

Loch gifted as she was, she closed her eyes and fell into a well of her own magicks. Her link to Sando was still tethered.

Lead found. Her mind pulsed the message.

She waited in silence as the the monster ventured off. The sounds of their march slowly growing dimmer and further away.

A feeling returned to her. Rippled across the waters of her mind. Understanding. It seemed to communicate. Acceptance. Came the next hint. Movment, find you.

Josai let her eyes come open with a full breath taken into her lungs. The entirity of her eyes glowed a phantasmal blue. If only for a moment. Then dissipated. She would move after the monster, and leave a feint pulse of her magick for her second to find.

A trail of crumbs.

She stepped after Askander Krotokov Stryzga, and wondered what they would find at the end of all of this.

Askandr Korotkov Stryzga Ashvyr Justinian

 

[Ashvyr Justinian]

Fuck you, too, Justin thought as he watched the vampire and witch frolic off into the woods. He tightened the clasp of the cape he wore, a light blue fabric as pristine as his armor. He checked his gear briefly, making sure all was at hand and prepared before following his new acquaintances. He left Pebbles behind, who seemed content to merely wait and graze as he went off seeking death. Yay.

He didn’t miss the glow of Josai’s eyes, but as with most things it didn’t really perk Justinian’s interest. When one was well-traveled in the land of Arethil, you usually saw some sort of suspicious magic or other stupid trick, and Justin wasn’t exactly a homebody. Far from it; he kept up easily with the vampire, skirting effortlessly over jutting roots and under overhanging branches, lighting stepping over rocks and molehills that threatened to break one’s ankle.

If only. Though Justin said nothing as they walked, he was already bored. A younger, real squire might feel invigorated, electrified by the prospect of fighting a deadly group of brigands, but Justin felt only a dour sense of already being disappointed. Well, what did he expect on this jaunt towards supposed danger?

Their lovely stroll was a little longer than expected, but he wasn’t even out of breath yet.

Zip

Justin’s sword flashed in a… rather lazy fashion, breaking in half the arrow that would have otherwise hit him between the eyes. There was already shouting, cries of alarm sounding and the rush of footsteps and breaking branches.

“Oh hey, screw you,” Justin grumbled.

 

[Askandr Korotkov Stryzga]

During their trek, Askandr remained silent, the weighted footfalls of his boots the only sound made by the armored blood-drinker. His head locked forward, not even gazing at his temporary companions. There was no need to make small talk or plan, at least not yet. His prey mainly consisted of brigands. Mostly.

As they neared their mark, the grip on his sword tightened, the black mass of magicked steel humming intently, almost in anticipation that its master planned to inflict. It was finely forged, the craftsmanship as apparent as the malicious design of its blade, a brutally crafted weapon with violence at the forefront of its make.

Askandr halted before the arrow fire assailed them, his ears picking up the drawing of bowstrings well before the first missiles flew at them. He stepped forward, unflinching as steel-tipped arrows whistled by. The arrows striking the broadside of his plate turned effortlessly against hardened steel.

Suddenly, an arrow flew into his helmet. sliding flawlessly into its visor as a sickening squelch signaled steel piercing into his eyesocket. It looked for a moment that a deathly blow was struck, and it would have meant his demise were he just a mortal man. But he was something else entirely. Askandr calmly plucked the lodged projectile, pulling it out of his eye as blood sprung from his wound.

"They are trained." His tone was cold and flat. "As expected. They have a drow in their ranks. Leave him unspoiled. Do what you wish with the rest."

With blade drawn, he shuffled forward, the volley of arrows doing little to slow him, even if they managed to embed into the gaps of his plate. The makings of a campfire flickered over the horizon. Those with sharp eyes could see a motley collection of tents and mobile lodgings. Human men garbed in fur and mismatched armor shuffled towards the entrance, preparing to greet them with a violent welcome.

Josai Ashvyr Justinian

 

[Josai]

Zip and snicker snakt.

Armor rang and Josai stayed low to the ground, behind the larger target of Askandr, who'd caught an arrow to the eye and seemed none too bothered. She grinned, half in disgust, half in admiration. "Careful!" she cried out. "Might be they have one or two silver tips," she said more quietly.

Her her right hand flicked and hooked and twist in a series of signs. Two fingers dug into the soft earth beneath her, and she scrawled a line of script. The silver bell chime went round and round but made no sound.

Water. Light. Shadow.

Her cloak shimmered, her frame too. As if her form were made of water, and a stone had been tossed in. Ripples moved across her form, and soon she disappeared. The soft tink of a silver bell in her wake.

Askandr Korotkov Stryzga Ashvyr Justinian

 

[Ashvyr Justinian]

They were very different, these three who dared hunt the brigands.

Askandr seemed a juggernaut, stepping resolutely forward even as arrow after arrow raced towards him. Despite even those that hit their mark at his joints and other vulnerable gaps in his armor, he never slowed, never stumbled, never wavered. The archers targeting him were already shouting in worry and confusion. There were voices yelling at them to shoot at his legs, to disable them, and other voices yelling to not waste their arrows. And there was one more voice, somewhere among the yelling.

“Silver, you fools! Get the silver!”

Josai vanished with barely a sound. The bell chimed once, a whisper among the noise as she melted away in the manner of a masterful thief or trained assassin. It was clear to Justin that her area lay in stealth and magic, perhaps more as he could see no sign of her save for slight displacement of ferns and tall grass. The brigands who noticed her disappearing were now calling alarms – “Magic! Magic!” – and, Justin heard, a demand for disenchantment spells.

That left him, the so-called squire.

Justinian dashed forward, his sword held out straight behind him.

The first arrow he ducked under, and it cut only a lock of dark hair away.

The second he rolled away from, coming to his feet.

The third he leaped over as it struck where he was but a hairsbreadth away.

The fourth his sword cleaved in half.

A bandit screamed in fear and pain as Justin’s sword came up and around, slicing clean through flesh and muscle and bone. Blood flowed from the bandit’s throat, and he dropped.

Justin didn’t stop to gloat. With speed unnatural for even a seasoned knight he moved and cut, slashed, and thrust. His sword, undeterred by armor, sang continuously as he cut down arrow and man alike. By then more men and women were flooding from the cave that ran deep into the highlands of the woods, bolstering the defense of the guards who were running fast out of arrows. Swords, maces, and javelins were being drawn now, and torches lit.

 

[Askandr Korotkov Stryzga]

At the sound of silver being brought, something in Askandr snapped. It was a feral instinct, the very same, that drove beasts mad in the presence of fire. His lumbering pace gave way to an unnatural dash, crossing distances in mere moments and delivering gruesome blows against those who stood in his way.

The silver was easily avoided and deflected. They were no experienced vampire hunters and were up against a creature who hunted his kind and then some. Each stroke of his blade meant the death of many, a singular strike carving easily into plate and mail as if they were wheat to be harvested.

A few faltered, dropping their weapons and sprinting from their station, screaming like mad. The others, also in the melee, shrieked, fighting as if they were in a nightmarish hellscape. Justin and the two knights would find a desperate renewal in the bandits that decided to stay and fight or the ones too afraid to move from their stations.

"What should we do, boss?" There was a gruff-looking man with mail that threatened to break against the rotund size of his gut, looking nervous as sweat trickled down from his brow to the black of his beard.

At the center of the encampment stood a hooded figure, a sinister grin plastered on his face.
"Nothing as of now. Everything is going according to plan."




Josai
Ashvyr Justinian