Private Tales Champion of the Perished

[Nere Ashorn]

The white-haired traveler, Garrod, had the right of it - what a mess!

Nere clunked her sword down in front of her and scowled at Vankram as he scuttled out through the door, finally freeing them from the view of his eyebrow-less mug. When the rest of everyone was on their way out and the scuffle seemed properly over, she twisted round to Hilda, who was in the middle of heating up some mop water. "Sorry for fighting in your bar, Hilda."

"Don't fret none," the older woman responded. "That was self defense, plain and proper."

Nere started to nod in response, but then something else caught her attention. "Aw, he went and nicked my sword," shesaid as she hefted her blade up with a concerning air, but it was not merely a nick. In the dim candlelight, several smooth grooves rippled across one edge. It looked like someone had taken a bite out of the blade before it had cooled. She looked down at her forearm, wiping away heat-dried blood with her other wrist to reveal an exact match of a bite cut across the runework on her skin. A wince scrunched up one side of her face as she clicked at the injury, both in pain and a more unhurried kind of worry.

"That's going to take forever to recast..." she muttered to herself. With a wave of her hand, the etched blade disappeared as readily as it had manifested. The runes on her arm glowed with a dull heat, orange and red, and the glow would stay for some time.

When Garrod gave his thanks to her and the other traveler, Nere hummed at the man and nodded absently. Nere still felt like she hadn't done much, but if it ended up being just enough then she shouldn't complain.

The dead man named himself Siegfreid, though Nere did not understand the bit about the many swirling souls. She herself had just the one, more or less, and couldn't wrap her mind around any other sort of existence. So she didn't, and merely went about picking up fallen cutlery that had been scattered during the fight.

"I've never heard tell of a Siegfried, living or legend. I'm afraid I can't say who you might've been in life," she said to the dead man, piling up cups and plates onto a tabletop. "But Frau Voglesong is someone my family has traded with. She's the proprietor of a mine a couple runs* north of here. Last I'd heard, those mines had been abandoned, and my father had stopped sending supplies up that way. Too many casualties." Nere stopped her stacking, a frown plain as day on her face. It was starting to look like the dead man was not the only one with unfinished business in the mines. "I don't like how this is looking. It must be the same place you spoke of before, Siegfried. And if Voglesong is playing a part here, it concerns me greatly. I'd like to pay her a visit and set this straight."

*It wasn't too clear to anybody whether the solid ground between the brackish waters of the bayou were individual islands or one landmass all cut up, and so the locals had taken to calling the dry stretches runs, to avoid the delineation altogether.

Garrod Arlette Lechies Delrio

 

[Lechies Delrio]

"Of course," she replied to Garrod's gratitude, unsure what else to say. Even with the danger now passed, the sight of the blade at his throat refused to leave her, caught like sand under fingernails. All her adrenaline, with nowhere else to go, seemed to have settled in the pit of her stomach, a hard and heavy stone.

He was first to remove his gaze, and trailed away after Damze.

With the room now empty of mercenaries and patrons both, the sorry state of Hilda's establishment was finally laid bare under the murky lamp light. 'Self-defense', as the woman had said, but Lechies had difficulty extinguishing all vestiges of guilt as she maneuvered through the room, righting chairs and retrieving fallen tableware. Some cups and dishes were broken beyond all hope, but where others showed only minor damage, Lechies set to fixing. Yellow runes glowed at her fingertips, and where she rubbed at glass and wood, their tiny cracks and chips smoothed out and disappeared.

The pile of mended tableware grew beside Nere's own collection as Lechies listened to the others converse. Their undead client finally had a name for them to use -- Siegfried -- but perhaps the more important name belonged to the one Vankram had left as a concession.

"Voglesong..." Lechies's eyes were downturned, mouth parted in thought. "A businesswoman whose mine was closed down, and has offered a bounty to put the undead back in the ground. Presumably, the very same undead that are being forced to labor in those same mines." She sighed. "Her part in this affair is unclear, but you're right; we should speak with her."

Lechies cast her eyes around the room. Satisfied that no salvageable plates or forks remained unaccounted for, she settled back into her stool by the bar.

"Preferably as soon as possible. The bounty may catch other eyes beside Vankram's, and they may not be as understanding as he was." Lechies's smile was flat and little pained. "Though, I suppose the chance of running across other undead roaming in the night is also a concern... Hm. Siegfried, those others you mentioned, who awakened as you did -- where are they? Would they join us, do you think?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

In the back room, Garrod took his time milling about as Damze stashed his crossbow and went to clean up the kitchen. Pots and pans still coated with the gravy and sauces of so many plates, the products of fine swamp cookery. It was no wonder then that the fish-faced fellow paid little mind to the monster hunter who stood alone by the mop, eye narrowed and broody.

Violence was nothing new to him. It was a large part of his trade. Still, when his eye looked down at the white gauntlet that coated his right arm -how it gleamed. Like oil on water. As iridescent as a strange beetle's shell. As venomous as a snake. He had felt his blood boil quick during the fight. Knifes thrown, his own hunter's knife drawn quick and stabbed into flesh. It was self defense. Nothing more. They had drawn steel first. Violence was the natural response. It was his only response.

Garrod felt the man's face tear away against his bone-white fist. Could see the red spatter across the pale plate of the relic. About the jewel. How the thick and sticky matter ran into the crevices. Welled there. Ran over. And that pale eye. How it gleamed. How it watched, and how he felt it smile.

Glass chimed through the air, softly and brightly as bits and pieces were swept along. The demon bearer blinked, and Damze began to fill his wash basin with water from the water pump. Garrod looked down at his gauntlet once more, so spotless and white, and grumbled. The sound of crystalline vessels fusing back together, like a warm song that sounded of sunrise and twilight, pulled him out once more.

When he returned into the room, the others had managed to get much of the cleaning done. He set himself to mop up the blood, with a bucket of water close behind him. It was slow work, but he seemed to set himself to it. It was the least he could do for spilling so much of it against such paltry goons.

Oh, but you could have done so much more, Oh Bearer Mine.

Demure as Lechies spoke on, he imagined all the daggers that would befall them. Cutthroats and mercenaries, called to the clink of promised coin. If the bounty grew, so too would their number. So too might their quality. Garrod went on mopping the blood. Thought of how much more would have to be spilled. He looked up, as he work, his eye on their new comrade, Nere, but it stayed on Lechies.

A groan left Siegfried's dry and raspy throat. "Join us?" he mulled the words over. "The Awakened..." he rumbled as he stared at the empty space before him. "Yes... Yes, I think... we must ask them and see."

"You have to make them see, Siegfried," Garrod said through grit teeth, hands held tight around the mop handle. "Less you want their new life wasted, and more blood spilled,"

Siegfried's silver glow eyes turned to meet Garrod's one. A moment passed between the two warriors. Garrod huffed and went back to mopping. "Make them see, yes, I agree, Garrod. I... I will make them see what may come,"

Nere Ashorn Lechies Delrio

 

[Nere Ashorn]

All the gathering was done, and look at this--! Lechies had some brilliant trick to stick the cracks and chips in the dishes back together. Unwittingly, Nere stopped helping with the cleanup and found herself peering at the spellwork from across the bar, trying to catch the shape of the yellow runes spun by the other woman's fingertips. If she could figure out how to do that, maybe the spell could be worked on metal too, and she wouldn't have to completely re-write every chipped dagger and sword... she made a note to ask Lechies about it, when the conversation died down.

The mage with the fancy repair work mentioned that she'd like to get going sooner than later, and Nere nodded her agreement. "Its a long, soggy way by foot - but we can take a bateau through the waters and be there in half a day. Though I'd rather like to leave at daybreak, the bayou makes for tricky navigation at night." Folks said that the swamp came alive at night, and all sorts of foul beings - kelpies, will o' wisps, water ghouls, and the topical undead - rose from the muck to roam. In Nere's experience, this was largely true.

Nere stopped halfway through wiping out a cup, a sudden bout of embarrassment shaking through her shoulders. "Oh, but I suppose there's no reason for you two to risk the journey at all. You've been so much help already, and there's not much in this for you. Such a talented mage and..." Nere glanced at Garrod, who was taking his time mopping. What was he? A swordsman yes, but there was also the coppery smell of blood that clung to him, unnatural, and that armored gauntlet seemed awfully elaborate for the average mercenary. "...and a knight. I can't offer much in the way of payment, for your services."

"Payment..." Siegfried cut in. His dry white eyes seemed to be working through something, perhaps he was having a discussion inside himself with those many souls of his. "Yes." Slowly, two hands came up like creaking hinges, and unslung the heavy blade off his back. The greatsword's jagged edge stuck into the wooden floor. "This can be payment." Ancient and mud-covered as the sword was, it was still a thing of beauty, an artifact that had survived many battles, and was confident it would see hundreds more to come. "If the Awakened can see... if we find our freedom... I will not need it any longer."

Garrod Arlette Lechies Delrio

 

[Lechies Delrio]

A knight.

Lechies's memory flashed to her first meeting with Garrod, where the swordsman had bounced out of the woods, hot on the heels of a rare pink garr-hound, upset by the assumption that he had a competitor and very concerned indeed with negotiating payment. That's not to say that knights couldn't expect fair recompense for their work, and perhaps some knights did lean in a more mercenary direction, but, well... Considering Belephus...

Amusement threatened to bubble from her mouth. Lechies had to look away, biting on her lower lip to stifle a smile.

Fortunately, the jarring metal-on-wood sound of Siegfried's sword made a good distraction, and her expression was smooth when she looked back to inspect the weapon. It was terribly timeworn, but at least the blade looked like it still held an edge, despite the chips and cracks.

"I wouldn't wish to deprive you of your means of self-defense. Then again, I suppose that after we've settled matters," matters, as if they were dealing with a civil dispute and not a potential necromancer, "you'd want a new weapon anyway, or least a mended one."

Nere's attempt to offer them an exit from this quest, while appreciated, was also unnecessary. "No need for that, now," Lechies said to Nere, kindly. "My guild's driving principles are, one," she held up a gloved finger, "to uncover the truths of this world that would otherwise remain hidden, and two," another finger joined the first, "to assist those in dire need who have found themselves bereft of allies. So, this journey is very much in line with my guild's purpose, and one I'm glad to make.

"At any rate, starting said journey in the morning does sound like the wiser decision. If there's nothing else then, I'll see you all tomorrow."

Her eyes darted to Garrod again, catching on his neck.

Then Lechies gave a departing wave and retreated to the room she'd rented from Hilda earlier. She'd ward the door, of course. In case any ne'er-do-wells returned to try their luck.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"Knight?" Garrod asked, low and to himself. His eye fell to the floor and he busied himself with mopping the last of the blood. "I'm no knight," he muttered below his breath.

Most knights were bastards anyway. A far cry from the chivalric heroes so often spun in tales around the campfire. He had known a knight. Several in fact. Lousy sods that did nothing more than their lords bidding. They were no knights. Not really. Not true knights. Not the sort that would stand against a pack of ravenous wolves, gone mad with taint to save some poor village. Nor the sort that would chase down pixies after they had stolen away a child, and trick them with sweets said to be the kings secret to a long life, or a shimmering coin said to grant wishes when throne down a well. No. That man was a fat pompous idiot who wore a stupid hat. A drunk. He was no knight either. Had not been for a long time.

But he was the one who had taught him to stand true.

The sound of the sword's blade stabbing into the wooden floor brought Garrod's eyes up. A sword, as payment for the steel and sorcery they would bring. Before Garrod could renounce the offer, Lechies spoke, clear, concise, she made all feel so matter of fact. A simple calculation that cut through all the weight and the fog. He smirked.

"Agreed," Garrod affirmed the plans to leave in the morning, and he nod as Lechies bid her farewell.

Siegfried stood back, magic eyes cast to each hero, his maw shut, and he bowed his head. "You have... much gratitude,"

"Alright you lot, follow the wizards example, and head off to get some rest, why don't you," Hilda added. "You'll have a meal in the mornin', I'll see to it," she motioned to Garrod. "Go on now, I'll take care of the rest," she said as she walked from out behind the bar and took Garrod's mop. "Not the first time there's been blood on these boards," she said with a rueful grin. "But Siegfried, if you'd be a dear, and take your sword out of the floor?"

Siegfried groaned his dry sound, and looked to his sword, a look like shock there in his empty stare. "My... apologies, fair Hilda," He took his sword back, and strapped it back onto his shoulder.

"Hilda, about the room," Garrod began,

She waved him off. "Go on, take any open one, we'll sort it out come morning," she jut a thumb at Nere. "Else we'll have our fair princess here handle the bill, eh?"

Garrod smirked. "No, I can pay it's not a problem," Hilda shooed him off.

"Off to bed with you,"

A nod from the monster hunter, and he looked to Nere. "See you come morning then," he said and ventured to find a room.

Nere Ashorn Lechies Delrio

 

[Nere Ashorn]

The two travelers took their leave, at Hilda's prompting. "Goodnight, you two," Nere chimed in warmly. She called after them as they ascended the stairs to rooms above. "And welcome to the bayou!"

Her face fell into a more neutral set once the both of them were out of sight. It was just her and Hilda at the bar now, and Siegfried, who probably didn't need to sleep, and might not have even been able to lay down, given his state. In the back, Damze rifled through things in that gruff, purposeful way of his.

"Well, what about it, girl?" Hilda asked her. "You want anything from the kitchen before we put it all away?"

"No thank you," Nere said, glancing out the still-open door of the tavern. "I ought to go and pray." Hilda only hummed at that and kept on cleaning, as Nere went out into the cool night air. Crickets chirped around her, and bullfrogs croaked, as she listened to the language of the world.

---

The next day, in the grey pre-dawn.

The narrow, flat-bottomed boat rocked from side to side as Nere stepped around inside of it, tying knots here and stashing away bags there. She was roped to a dock that jutted out from the landing that the Fool's End sat upon. Reed grass and dense boules of moss caught the morning mist, and mosquitos buzzed around the back of Nere's neck. A slender blue fish leapt from the waters nearby, slipping back into the murky depths with a swish of its tail.

Smoke bellowed from the tavern's chimney, and no doubt Damze was up just as early as her, making the breakfast that Hilda had promised the lot of them. Siegfried had wanted to help her with the boat, but Nere was worried about what the moisture would do to his bones, and had politely asked him to help Hilda set the table instead.

The boat was ready, and Nere stepped out onto the dock. She went back inside, hoping that the two travelers were awake now. Strange as they were, they seemed like good people. There was about six or seven questions she wanted to ask Lechies, and a couple for Garrod (who wasn't a knight) as well. She mulled over which ones might be appropriate for breakfast as she sat down at the table, not really seeing who or what was already there.

Lechies Delrio Garrod Arlette

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies woke to the pleasant realization that she felt well-rested despite last night's interruption.

This could only be thanks to the fact that her conversation with Garrod had ended on a positive note, a once yawning rift between them now mended by a tentative bridge. The memory of him sitting so close by, hands callused and warm in hers... Lechies smiled faintly as she rose to begin her day. An inspection of her door to ensure that the wards had gone untouched; a quick round of morning ablutions; a glance through the window to assess the weather.

Past the curtains and grimy glass, Lechies sighted a figure down by the docks. A moment of spying revealed it to be Nere, presumably readying a craft and supplies for their journey to see Voglesong. The reality of what probably awaited them threatened to dim her cheer.

But Lechies held tight to what Garrod had promised. She would see this quest to its end, her promise to him.

---​

The tavern was empty of patrons when Lechies emerged, staff and traveling pack in hand, but from the smell of things, Hilda and Damze had been busy since well before dawn. Lechies gave them both a smile as she seated herself, a gesture only Hilda returned, and set to feeding herself.

When Nere joined the table, she would find that Lechies had settled on fried fish and some fruit, having skipped the greenish pieces of toasted bread on offer. A cup of tea steamed at Lechies's elbow; her own blend.

"Good morning, Nere," Lechies greeted, briefly looking up from where she was slicing an apple into neat wedges. "Have you eaten yet? And is there any work left before we can set out? I'm nearly finished; I can help finish any tasks that need doing."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod was in the kitchen, helping the gruff Damze roast up some vegetables. Roots and radishes, along with some long leafy greens. Damze handled the meats. Slapped some fatty sides of animal belly onto the irons skillet, beat together a gravy-like sauce.

It was near impossible to understand the man, his dialect foreign to the monster hunter, yet there was a universality to most kitchens. Gestures, grunts, nods of the head that accompanied the percussion of chops and cuts, and the symphony of sizzles and hisses.

"Pak de dikbuikige pot," Damze jerked his head over to the big bellied pot that sat in its own cookfire.

Garrod nodded, and walked over to the round thing, picked up the spoon and gave the rich colored stew a stir. He gave it a sniff. "Needs a little something," he grumbled, and looked around, saw some dried herbs and small clay bowls full of spices.

A pinch of the red stuff, a pinch of the gold stuff. Pepper and turmeric, he was sure. Then a dash of the brown earthy substance. Cumin, he recalled. The smell of the stew soon gained a bit of complexity, a bit of depth.

Garrod smiled.

---

Hot bowls of stew clacked in front of Nere and Lechies, the monster hunter before them.

"Mornin'," Garrod said with a hint of joy there in his nasally voice.

From the end of the bartop, Damze slid plates across, full of charred beats and radishes, even a few golden and purple carrots, along with some flat breads and cuts of crispy, fatfried belly meat.

"Zorg ervoor dat je goed en vol bent voordat je vertrekt" the wily cook said with a determined look, and a curt nod.

Siegfried blinked at the man, mouth ever agape.

"Anyone catch that?" Garrod asked as he sat down at the counter, and dug into his food.

"He says, eat well, before you leave..." Siegried translated.

Damze nodded again, and was off.

Garrod finished chewing. "Don't need to tell me twice," and he shovled more food into his mouth. He ripped off a piece of the flat bread, scooped up some vegetables, and dipped them in the seasoned stew.

Nere Ashorn Lechies Delrio

 

[Nere Ashorn]

"Good morning, everyone!" Nere greeted in turn as she sat down next to Lechies at the table. She leaned over as close as manners would allow, and got a big waft of steam from Lechie's cup. She closed her eyes against it, felt the sticky condensation against her cheeks. "That smells lovely," Nere said as she opened her eyes and scooted away to her own space once more. The table was set beautifully.

Damze had outdone himself this morning, and with a pleasant glow to her smile, Nere wondered if the mean old man was trying to show off for the newcomers. In his own mean-old-man way. Well, if she could benefit from the hospitality too, all the better.

A little bit of everything managed to get on Nere's plate as she munched fruit, grilled vegetables, fried fish and pork belly. She had no regard for mixing flavors as she combined mouthful indiscriminately and at an alarming rate. It was only her good upbringing that had her finish chewing before speaking between each bite.

The mage, who was already nearly done eating, asked if she could be any help. Nere waved her offer off in a well-meaning gesture. "Nothing left to do but climb aboard and cast off. You're welcome to the task, Miss Lechies - the waters here are rather tame. It's a good place to learn, if you've never steered a flatwater boat before."

She was making an assumption of course, but there was plenty of room for the mage to defend her nautical skills as Nere took to smearing a roast carrot onto some less-than-fresh bread. It smelled so good, cooked with a precious pinch of salt and just the right amount of bacon grease, that for a moment Nere forgot all about the questions she'd been meaning to ask the two.

All but one. Bright blue eyes turned to the swordsman turned sous chef as she poised to take a bite. "Garrod, if you don't mind my asking..." she began, toast beginning to slumb in her hand. "If you're not a knight, what should I take to calling you?"

Garrod Arlette Lechies Delrio

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies smelled them before she saw them, but still, the heavy clunk of spice-rich bowls being added to the table startled her. She looked over the spread, taking in the colors of the stew and the glistening strips of meat, her eyes ever hungry for stimulation when her stomach was already full. It truly was a shame; everything looked delicious -- minus the bread, their quality still questionable even after time in the pan.

"Good morning," she returned pleasantly to Garrod. There were no lingering glances exchanged between them; perhaps only pragmatic, after the agreement to keep their nighttime meeting a secret. Or perhaps, more likely, no need for anything else to be said.

Lechies was quiet for a moment, considering Nere's offer. "I admit, I've never had occasion to learn the ins and outs of river boating before."

Most journeys she'd undertaken were over land, or where she did need to travel on the water, the vessel's steering had been handled either by one of the other Greendawners, or by a hired professional. There was no reason not to try now, if the local waters were indeed as agreeable as Nere had said. Honestly, now that the suggestion was out there, Lechies wondered if her mysterious command over ice-related magicks would offer any advantage in this endeavor, even though the waters weren't frozen.

"If you wouldn't mind showing me a few pointers, I'd be honored to act as your pupil."

Then came the question of Garrod's... vocation. Lechies remained silent, though amusement twinkled in her eyes. She hid a smile behind her cup of tea, and made a mental note to prepare a few packets of the blend for Nere later.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"Boat captain Lechies," Garrod said idly between spoonful's, an impish smile on his face. "Funny, how easy the image is,"

"Easy?" Siegfried rasped. "Little is... easy about captaining a boat...Garrod, the not knight," the undead warrior, beneath his tricorn hat, added. "Why... easy?"


Garrod blinked, and looked up from his plate. First at Lechies, a bit dumb-struck, then at Siegried. His mouth still full of food, he took a moment to gulp it down and smiled nervously.

"Guess it's the staff," he said quickly. "Reminds me of the push pole ferry-folk use down rivers," he scratched the side of his nose some, his eye still lingering on the wizard. "The calm demeanor doesn't hurt none either,"

Siegfried turned his silver-star eyes toward the wizard and stared at her a moment. "You... think about this often?"

Garrod blinked again and made a little cough-like sound. "N-no, it just, came easy is all," he went back to shoving food in his mouth.

When Nere's question came round, he stopped his eating, plate near empty. "Hmm?" he sounded, and looked to the armored sailor. "Uh... well," his eye instinctively looked over to his kit, laid down by the wall, not too far from where they all sat, his runed=greatsword lit by the feint traces of morning light that poured in through the windows.

"I'm a monster hunter by trade," he looked back to the sailor, and he seemed to sit a little taller with the confession. "Take down dangerous game, cursed beasts, rabid packs, the occasional demon or gheist," he smirked, and made a point not to look at the white gauntlet he kept off for their early morning start. "Tend to work alone for most jobs," he stabbed up some more veggies with his fork, popped it into his mouth and worked down the food. "Party up on the tougher contracts or bounties," he glanced over at Lechies with a smile. "Though fate forces the odd friendship from time to time," he forked up the last bite and ate it. When he was done chewing, "Kind of like this here venture we find ourselves on." he said as he looked at Siegfried, who just stood there and watched them eat. Garrod's eye went back to Nere. "Why the curiosity?" he asked, and stood up, picking up his own plate, and any other that looked empty enough or untouched.

Siegfried huffed a ragged, undead, breath. "Odd, friendship... hmm..." he said idly.

Nere Ashorn Lechies Delrio

 

[Nere Ashorn]

As Garrod and Siegfried spoke to each other, Nere took the opportunity to empty her plate. It was tempting to scoop up more carrots and fish and start on a second plate, but she restrained herself. An early start had been requested, and they would be leaving soon. Besides, she might end up needing to swim. Depended on how good a helmswoman Lechies ended up being.

"A monster hunter!" A wide smile spread across Nere's face as Garrod answered her question. "Are there a lot of monsters on the mainland? I heard that the Allir Reach is a mild, prosperous place."

"Maybe they've got them monster hunters to thank for that." Hilda chimed in. She was sitting down to breakfast herself, grabbing a thick cut of pork belly with a two-pronged fork. "Why, with such a trade, you could make a decent living in the bayou. If'n anyone could afford to pay you."

"Why the curiosity?", Garrod asked his question in turn.

"I meant nothing by it," Nere responded, hoping she hadn't offended the man. He didn't look offended, as he stood up, but some people were good at hiding that. She let Garrod pass by, then scooted back in her chair. "It's just that not too many travelers come this far into the Garramarisma. But if you are a hunter, that makes perfect sense! There are certainly a lot of dangerous monsters, curses, and such around here."

Hiking her boot up onto the edge of the table, Nere began tightening her laces.

"No boots on the table, girl," Hilda scolded her. Nere felt a thwak on the top of her head.

"Sorry." Her foot slid off the table and thunked back to the floor. A smear of mud stayed behind. Bending down flat, Nere finished re-tying her laces. Then sat up straight again, slapping the palms of her hands on her knees determinedly.

"Well, I'll meet you two out there," she said with a certain resolve. Nere stood and went to the door, stopping there a moment only to wave at the undead as he continued to stand a polite distance away from the breakfast spread. "C'mon Siegfried, let's try and get you into the boat."

The dead man moaned out a gargled response, and willed his bony legs back into motion with a sudden lurch.

Garrod Arlette Lechies Delrio

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Her staff. A push pole? Her staff, carved of blessed ash and imbued with alchemical power to support her spellwork -- a mage's weapon dipping in and out of murky waters to ensure their boat kept going straight. The thought of it was so ridiculous that Lechies had to look away, tongue pressed between her teeth to stifle a laugh. Then Siegfried pressed further, Garrod dug himself deeper, and Lechies's cheeks began to ache from the effort of holding back her mirth.

Fortunately, his answer to Nere was more straightforward. As Garrod explained his trade, Lechies busied herself with clean-up, consolidating the inedible bits into one heap and stacking the used dishware. She caught Garrod's eye; his smile she returned.

"Said friendships are no less strong despite any oddness," she added idly, if only for Siegfried's benefit. The undead man seemed to struggle with his own humanity at times. Perhaps he remembered fragments of a life before, when he'd had such friendships to call his own.

Lechies nodded goodbye to Nere and Siegfried as the pair departed first. She drained the rest of her tea, added the cup to the pile, and stood.

"Thank you for the food, Damze, and thank you for your hospitality, Hilda. Are you sure you wouldn't like any help cleaning up?"

The other woman waved her off. "Nah. You've got better things to keep you busy. You do what you need to, and let me handle the work I don't need help with."

"Alright," Lechies laughed, and to Garrod said, "I'll see you shortly."

The docks groaned under her feet as she joined Nere and Siegfried outside. Mist still clung faintly to their surroundings, the last of it stubbornly fighting the day's advance. Lechies drew her cloak more tightly around herself, moreso out of habit than anything else; there was a sticky sort of chill in the air. She looked their craft over, still thinking (against her will) about the idea of steering it with her staff.

"How far is it to Frau Voglesong's?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod smiled with some pride as the sailor and the tavern keeper went on a bit about him, his head held a little higher. "Yeah well, work keeps us traveling," he added, and found his eye drifting over to Lechies as Nere got scolded for her boots. "Was just takin care of a nest of krait," he added, and remembered the gear he had lost to the muck of the mire of the bayou.

Some trader had hired him. Not that it mattered much now he supposed.

Nere made off, and Lechies soon followed. "Aye, see you out there," he agreed, and made to take his plates to the back.

Hilda cleared her throat. "You not hear me, Hunter?" the tavern keeper called out. "Let me and ol' Damze handle that business we can handle, and you go and take care of that which you can handle," she stabbed her fork down on a glistening piece of meat, and scarfed it down. "Sides," she said and craned her head toward the door and the company that awaited him outside. "Didn't no-one ever teach you not to keep a good woman waiting?"

Garrod blinked, and followed her meaning. Cleared his throat, and put the plates down before he hurried over to his gear.

---

Outside Garrod strode across the docks, with little more than those things he carried on his person. Belephus, his white gauntlet, back upon his arm. It was just easier to carry him that way. What with his pack having been lost to the Swamp.

"Garrodddd," the undead warrior sounded, his silver flame eyes bright beneath the shade of his tricorn hat.

Garrod blinked. "Uh, hey Siegfried," the Hunter sounded as he stepped onto the barge and felt the vessel shift with the gentle sway of the waters.

"You... are familiar... to me..." he said with his mouth agape.

The hunter blinked. "Ye-yes, we fought alongside each other last night, Siegfried,"

Belephus laughed. My my. Familiar he says. Whatever could he mean, oh bearer mine?

Siegfried made a sound like thinking, and Garrod gave the alive-again soul a wide berth. "Familiar..." he muttered, his face tight with discomfort.

Does he sense it, do you think? Belephus smiled wide and grim and glinting. The foulness you were marked by.

 

[Nere Ashorn]

"Half a day's ride, and we'll be there!" Nere said cheerfully in response to Lechie's question, even though she had mentioned as such the night before. She started to unmoor the boat, but then stopped herself, still looking to Lechies. "Ah, I suppose I should let you do this. Just tug on this loop here, and the whole thing will come loose at once." She stepped back and left the rope to Lechies, busying herself with other things about the boat.

The four of them fit snugly in the compact bateau, it's wide, flat belly accommodating their gear and their feet and not much else. And despite Garrod's fanciful thinking at breakfast, the mage would not need to use her staff to steer the vessel. It came equipped with a setting pole and a pair of oars carved from straight white oak, a rare commodity in the bayou, where all trees grew crooked. Nere put Garrod and Siegfried on the oars, and Lechies steering with the pole, and she herself gave direction until they were - more or less - maintaining an even clip in the right direction.

The sun began to rise, and the night creatures hid in their holes and canopy beds to slumber. Along the shoreline, the daytime animals took their place. Sounds of birds and wild boar, buzzing insects and ancient reptilian things that lurked in the rooty underbrush of the shallow waters.

---

Some hours later...

For some time, the party carried along underneath the cypress and tupelo undisturbed. Then, a fork in the waters widened their narrow path into something more akin to a lake, and suddenly there were other boats on the water. In a boat with its hull painted red, like the throat of a jungle frog, two frohoggin riverfolk ambled toward them. The currents pushed the two boats together until they were within shouting distance.

Nere stood one boot up on the side of the boat to get a better look at the neighbors, rocking the boat in the process. Waves of water gurgled and splashed underneath them at the disturbance.

"Hullo there!" she bellowed out with her whole chest, waving a hand in greeting. One of the little frog folk waved back, but they did not speak until the currents brought them closer than shouting distance.

"Good day to ye, neighbors," The taller of the frogfolk said. He was a rusty brown, with pale yellow spots that sparkled in the mid-morning sun like flecks of gold. "Are ye headed to market? We hear tell the toll has raised again."

Before Nere could respond, the other frohoggin, a wee blue fellow with delicate black eyes, let out a croak of alarm. "Wh-what's wrong with that one?!" He said, pointing a bulbous digit at Siegfried.

The undead looked past the brim of his hat at the frohoggin, his eyes milky white with decay. Nere glanced at their unusual companion for but a moment, and then turned to face the frog folk again. "Oh, you mean Siegfried? He's gone and died, but he's not dangerous."

Garrod Arlette Lechies Delrio

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Lechies took the rope as instructed, and from there would follow all of Nere's instructions as closely to the letter as she could manage. Steering the boat was an awkward task at first, but as they gained speed, the vessel eventually settled into a nice glide. With building confidence Lechies allowed herself to bask in the simple pleasure of learning something new. Studying spells, sorting through academic texts--that sort of learning was well and good, but working with one's hands, committing memory to one's muscles--that provided a different kind of thrill.

Still, Lechies was careful to keep her eyes and ears open. For all that she looked, she could hardly tell one patch of murky water from the next, and was wholly reliant on Nere's expertise to know when to adjust their direction, lest the boat catch on protruding roots or a swell of mud.

As they came out into the open, Lechies eyed the other boats cutting to and fro across the water. Some seemed to be ferrying cargo, the shapes of crates and barrels familiar even at this distance, while others she guessed to be fishermen, with woven nets strung along the sides of their boats.

The nearest boat was approaching theirs; Lechies prepared to steer them away, but Nere gave no command, and at their current speed a collision didn't seem likely, anyway. When Nere stood and greeted them, sending the boat rocking, Lechies made a startled flailing motion, grip going tight on the setting pole, but her balance and their vessel both held.

There was no time to feel relief though, not when the shorter frohoggin noticed Siegfried's presence. Lechies straightened so abruptly she felt her spine pop.

"Someone raised the poor fellow from his grave; we're on a journey to lay him back to rest," Lechies said, letting none of her panic show on her face or in her tone. "You don't need to worry about him. My magicks have him docile."

Lechies drew a golden glyph in the air with a gloved finger, one that was useless for actual spellcraft but looked impressive enough to the unlearned. All the while, she silently offered apologies to Siegfried for the falsehood.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Siegfried stared blankly at Lechies and her golden glyph, while his fetid jaw was likely slack, it was hidden behind the folds of his tattered scarf, and the dramatic flair of his coat's collar. Still, he shift his confused silver eyes to look at Garrod, who just shrugged. Unsure.

A pensive croak left the gold-spotted fellow's bulbous throat. "All the same," he said, looking to the most confident one amongst the crew. "Raft pirates, whole gang o' em set up just down tha bend," a smaller sound ribbited out from his chest, he waddle stepped toward the red throated prow of the ship. He pointed at some thick vegetation on the horizon. Might be the glint of steel caught someone's eye. "Askin two gold per boat last we came," he shook his head.

The wee blue one shook their head, and went to look at some of the fish in their catch hold. Still squirming and fresh in the holding bay beneath the deck. "Make's it mighty hard for us fisher folk to earn a livin'," he said as he watched their catch swim coolly along in the shallow waters of their confines.

"Shite," the gold-spotted one cursed, and narrowed his large bulbous eyes at the sight on the horizon. "it's that blackgaurd Tonas, and he has got his hitting club out,"

A loud copper bell rang-a-clang-clang from the distance, and drew both Garrod and Siegfried's eye. Garrod clutched his gauntleted fist tight, and its chitinous surface gleamed a greenish white.

"Inspection! Inspection!" one of them boomed out with a dented brass megahorn. "Prepare to be boarded!" they cried out, as their poleman guided their boat towards the party's, and the frohoggin's.

"Well, shit," Garrod growled. "Spose losing some coin isn't the worst thing," he muttered, and kept a hand on the knife at his belt.

Siegfried groaned, and watched as the pirate boat sailed closer and closer.

Nere Ashorn Lechies Delrio

 

[Nere Ashorn]

"Two gold per boat," Nere exclaimed, taken aback at the absurd cost of the toll. "That's almost half of what you'll make at market." The blue-throated one echoed her concern, counting their catch with solemn round eyes and lamenting the place of a fisherfrog.

The pirates in question were quick to make an appearance. "Goodday to ye, ladies and frogs," said the pirate with a big, studded club resting across one shoulder, who looked like he could be named Tonas. "What have we got here, eh friends?" As the pirate poleman pushed the boat closer, Tonas stepped casually and with confidence onto the frohoggin's boat. He peered into the sloshing barrels of fish, just as the wee blue one had done.

"Some sad little fishes, and..." Still leaning over the barrels, he turned his head towards Nere's boat and the crew within, eyes predatory. "...exotic goods." A lazy hand pointed at Siegfreid, the other one tapped the club against his shoulder. "Double toll for the undead, ye blasted weirdos."

Lechies Delrio Garrod Arlette

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Pirates now? Yesterday, mercenaries looking for easy coin. Today, pirates looking for the same. No wonder Dakota had been so unhappy at the idea of her taking her next adventure in the Bayou. This place bred more trouble than it did mosquitos, it seemed.

At least Vankram and his men had thought they were serving the greater good in some small part by ridding the world of an undead. Probably. Lechies doubted this new crew had any such good motivations in their hearts.

The pirate vessel slid alongside the frohoggins'. Lechies assessed them as their leader apparent swaggered onboard. Eight of them, wielding mostly clubs and blades, though two that she could see cradled crossbows in their hands. Worse odds than last night's encounter, and there was the frohoggins' safety to consider, besides. But they were surrounded by a great deal of water, and, well...

She really shouldn't rely on this power as much as she was. But in the face of obvious villainy, with innocents' livelihood at stake, what else could Lechies do except honor her guild's oath?

"We understand," she said. Lechies looked to her companions. A flicker of something sharp passed across her eyes. She turned back to Tonas. "I just have one request, if that's alright."

Lechies widened her stance slightly, bracing her legs. She tightened her grip on the push pole.

"If any of you cannot swim, please let me know now."

She threw her other arm skyward. Crystal chimed, for an instant loud and clear as a bell, then was swallowed the next moment by the sudden, violent crunch of splintering wood. The center of the pirates' boat heaved upward, snapping in two to make room for the tower of jagged ice that had speared up through it. Yelps and curses carried as the would-be robbers tumbled into the water, showered by the fragments of what used to be their vessel.

The force of the attack shoved the remaining two boats apart. Lechies fought to keep her balance, but over-corrected and ended up falling into Siegfried with a quiet grunt.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"Double the toll?" Garrod hissed.

The one who looked like a Tonas shifted the weight of his club, let the studded and ugly thing slap against his thick palm. "What was that?" he said and stepped toward the Hunter. Armored as he was, and with strange white thing strapped to his arm, what bravery had swollen up in him seemed to eek out. Not just a lady or a frog, or even a lone zombie for that matter.

Garrod grinned, hand on his knife. "Too much, mate, too much,"

Tonas shifted, brow furrowed, heyes narrowed as he measured the man. "Yeah?" his crew mustering behind him, the crossbows shifting in their hands.

Garrod's fingers itched. Ten feet out. Motion of the boat. He could nail the bastard with a throw. Would be bloody though. Fiery. Not good for ships.

You like bloody, Oh Bearer Mine. Fiery even more.

Garrod frowned. That...

We understand cut a cool voice across the bow. His eye pulled to Lechies, saw the way she stood ready. His knees bent some, and his grin quirked.

Crystal chimed and ice crackled and snapped. Wood cracked and splintered, as a glittering spear punched through hull in show of magical force, and caught the light of day, a proud and gleaming monument. Garrod's eye was full of Lechies, and his grin proud and hot as the cool crsystal dust misted over them.

The waves rocked the ships, those that still remained, Garrod lurched, but kept on his feet as Tonas went for Siegfired with his club.

Garrod bulled forward as the boat slapped back down onto the river, shoulder rammed into Tonas' side, knocking him back.

"Why, you!"

The frohoggin's ribbit and hopped and held fast their catch. The small blue one grabbed up an oar, bound at one of the pirates scrambling wet over the side-rail, and thwacked him over his head.

Tonas turned on Garrod with a swipe of his club, but the Hunter was already in on him, leg shoved stiff between the man's footing. An elbow cracked against Tonas' thick skull, and Garrod twist at the hips to drive a poleyn plated kneed into the man's side, doubling him over, grabbed firm both shoulders, and drove a second knee into his bent forward chest. Tonas crack snapped back and fell into the water.

A stray bolt flitted by, the motion drew Garrod's eye. One asshole was knelt at the prow of Nere's boat. His hand already digging for the next bolt.

Nere Ashorn Lechies Delrio

 

[Nere Ashorn]

Nere watched in frozen horror as Garrod grinned and mocked the pirate who boarded their boat. Even Lechies had a cruel gleam in her eye. They were both looking for a fight, and they got what they wanted. Garrod pushed the pirates to attack, and without even waiting for them to draw first, Lechies shattered their whole boat with a swift motion of her hands. Just like that, any chance at peace went up in glittering ice and splintered wood.

Even though she'd been the one to capsize their boat, Lechies still had the gall to be concerned over the pirates drowning. "You're damn lucky," Nere said through gritted teeth, as the waves of the impact washed over them. "The water's not very deep, here."

As if to verify her statement, a waterlogged pirate poked his head up above the waves. The swamp came up to about his chest. Holding his club above his head, he waded slowly and awkwardly towards their boat, shouting curses along the way. That was the one who couldn't swim. The other five were smart enough to kick their feet and make better time towards one of the remaining boats.

Atop her own flat-bellied vessel, Garrod cracked his armored self into the pirate leader's nose, then his side, then his chest, and finally into the water. Was the monster hunter smiling?

"This ain't the way to do things," Nere called out as all around her devolved to chaos. She's dropped her mostly-Allirian accent in her anger and slipped into something more distinctly swampish. "And what's that, ice? Ice!" She jabbed a furious hand at the glacial spike behind them. "It don't snow in the bayou. You're going to kill the fish!"

Did they think that they were helping? Is this how one dealt with bandits on the mainland - beat them up, maybe kill a couple, and they go away? People like Tonas, people like Vankram and his crew, they might of been ungracious bastards, they might be liars and thieves, but they lived here too. And a little violence wasn't enough to make them go away. Nere was so mad, she could, she could...!

A bolt flew past her ear, rustling her long, unkempt hair.

A pirate had crawled back up out of the water, and he was one of them with a crossbow. Nere struck an intense pose, her legs sturdy and wide. She breathed in, and exhaled out a steamy breath. The pirate cranked the mechanism of his crossbow back more frantically at the sight of her. He wasn't fast enough. She cleared the length of the boat in two impossible steps, and grabbed the crossbow in a grip like iron. The bolt fired into the sky as she forced the man's aim upwards.

"None of that on my boat," she growled out, her eyes stormy.

Lechies Delrio Garrod Arlette

 

[Lechies Delrio]

Unlucky, Lechies silently corrected, blinking and breathing in the dust and rot of Siegfried's person as he helped push her back upright. Unlucky the water isn't deeper.

Her attack hadn't slowed the pirates down as much as she would've hoped. True, there was one at the rear wading his sluggish way over--Lechies made a note to ensure his head, at least, stayed above the water--but the others were closing in quickly.

To the front of the boat, there came the low thump of a projectile being released. A bolt flew uncomfortably close; Lechies ducked on instinct even though the hull's rim was nowhere near tall enough to duck behind.

In her left hand, she squeezed the setting pole, reluctant to let go lest it disappear into the brackish water. By her right foot, her wizard's staff rolled about, the pale wood gleaming almost white in the morning sun. Lechies took it up. She decided to remain kneeling; her sense of balance clearly wasn't cut out for this kind of battlefield, and she'd hate to make a cushion out of Siegfried again.

Now holding poles in both hands, rocking unsteadily even crouched as she was, Lechies looked to the other crossbow-wielder. He had paused by a chunk of flotsam to load a bolt. Only a few feet away from the frohoggins' vessel, it was unlikely that he would miss his target.

There was the thought that she could--and should--freeze all their foes in place, but Nere seemed incredibly irate already and Lechies had no wish to test the other woman's patience.

Instead, she thrust her staff skyward, by some small fortune managing not to smack Siegfried with the other end as she brought it vertical. Purple pulsed at its tip, runes shimmering. She swung her staff down, and a violet missile shot forth across the water.

It slammed into the crossbow-wielder, or rather, into his weapon. Wood rotted and rope frayed, all its components going brittle as Lechies's magick ruined its upkeep in an instant. The pirate pulled the trigger, eyes dark with bloodlust, only to recoil and yelp as a sharp crack echoed. The lathe snapped in two in his hands, and the bolt slipped harmless into the water.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Siegfried groaned. His silver eyes wide as they watched all the chaos unfold around them. Somehow, he was uncannily steady, even as the boat rocked and swayed and moved with the ebb and flow of the water, and the commotion of the fight.

Garrod grinned as one man who had climbed out of the water stabbed at him with knife's blade. A quick back step and weave took him just out of the knife's stab. A back step too far, and the back of his boot hit the wall.

The knife man ducked his head, moved side to side as he feint with his blade. Garrod, wearing armored greaves as he was, loaded his back leg, twist his body, and cracked the other man's leg across the shin with his armor plated shin. There was a nasty snap, and the man fell to the floor boards with his leg bent at an unnatural angle. A pained howl left his lip.

Garrod grinned all the wider.

Wasting no time, the small frohoggin bashed the man over the head with his oar, and the fellow slumped where he lay. Knocked out. The little frohoggin gave Garrod a thumbs up, and the Hunter nodded, and returned the gesture. His eyes scanned the boats, most of the pirates in the water decided it was likely better to wade to shore.

Some of the ones already on the shore screamed bloody murder. "Krait!!!" he cried out. "Krait pack!" and ran back into the water, frantically splashing their way back to the boats.

From the tall reeds along the shore, blades of grass and cat tails bobbled and shook something violent and fierce.

"Well, shit," Garrod cursed, and drew steel. "Nere! We guard Lechies and Siegfried! No Magick!" he called out. The long limbed horrors broke through the cover, and skittered into the water, where they slipped and swam, whipping their tails in long lazy s's. He hopped over from the Frohoggin's boat, and kicked their ship away.


"They're attracted to magick," He called out. "They should leave the pirates well enough alone," he added as he scanned the waters. The pirates were wide eyed and shitless, and some decided it was just better to test their luck ashore once more. Garrod laughed. "Guess I could've gotten another nest clearing gig!" He turned about, his eye eager to find its prey.

Good, yes, good oh bearer mine. You won't mind if I eat them, yes? Just, nasty, fiendish krait!

 

[Nere Ashorn]

A choking sound came out of the bandit Nere had a grip on, as she shoved him overboard with a heavy hand. Swamp water splashed everywhere when he fell. She wiped it off her face with a gloved hand, and snapped the winding mechanism of the crossbow she still held in the other.

By then, most of the pirates had decided that the trouble they'd stirred up wasn't worth the six gold. But they wouldn't get any rest yet, as the grasses along the shoreline rustled and someone called out the alarm. Krait! This was why one didn't go casting magic without knowing what kind of ground they were standing on. Anything could be watching.

No, Nere wasn't going to keeping lashing out. She was going to take long, cooling breaths, and listen as Garrod shifted his focus to the new threat. That was the diplomatic thing to do.

"Nere! We guard Lechies and Siegfried! No Magick!"

"Easier said than done. Those Krait can suck the ink right out of my skin," Nere responded. Wasting no time, she started to take off the layers of leather and fabric on her upper half, until she was down to the bodice she wore as an undergarment. "I'll keep 'em distracted so they don't think about swarming."

Nere looked over the side of the boat, trying to count the krait heads. Five or six maybe, but more could come running out the rushes later. Hopping down into the water, she disappeared under the surface, and swam some distance away.

In the next boat over, one of the frohoggin was thwacking the head and hands of a bandit desperately trying to climb in. "Ow, ow!" the bandit cried out, stubbornly reaching for the edge of the boat again. "I don't care about the toll no more! Just don't leave me in the water with the beasties!"

"Oh, you'll be fine," the little frohoggin croaked out as his companion cracked the oar across the bandit's head one last time. With a cry turned to gurgle, the bandit went under, only to surface again a few feet away. A krait swam right between the waterlogged man and the red-bellied boat without even raising its snout out of the waters.

It was headed for Nere's wake.