Quest First Introductions[Templar]

[Ivo Coppercrow]

Ivo slumped imperceptibly as whatever wind was left in his sails suddenly ceased. With little will left to keep him upright, the recruit looked gravely between what other Templars were gathered around. "So it's a reckoning, then," he thought in dire tone, though what this necromancer hoped to calculate of their worth was utterly lost upon him. Should their meager numbers fall, it was doubtless that whatever horde remained would sweep its way across the countryside and leave little behind save for smoke and bodies.

"I'll get somewhere secured behind the walls," Ivo offered quietly. He didn't like the possibility that they would need a fallback point, but his abilities would be much better spent fortifying a single building rather than being spread across what was left of the village's palisade. The recruit pawed at his belt, muttering a quiet curse at his own lack of preparation. From the two clay pots of blessed oil he had packed for their journey, one's contents had been entirely emptied and only half remained of the other.

The recruit slipped the partially filled pot off of his belt, palming its meager volume easily. He held it out to Kalianna with the smile of a dead man walking. "Here, you might want to coat your blade when the shamblers are coming into sight. Should give you a bit of an edge to fend them off." Ivo knew from personal experience that thrusting weapons didn't work all too well against an undead target due to their inability to bleed out or give in, but he had his own means to deal with such threats. Kali, on the other hand... Well, he worried for her.

"If that's all, Cap--" The recruit cut off for a moment, biting his tongue in thought. Should they all die in a handful of hours, it might be good to have some friendlier company. "If that's all, Saul, I think I'll go sort out what building's in the best repair and lay down what defenses I can."

 

[Kalianna Romane]

Kalianna's face fell at Saul's words, the remaining portion of her optimism fading as she considered it. A part of her hoped that Saul was wrong, that the necromancer was bluffing. The other part of her knew better. A whole graveyard's worth of undead, all heading straight for them. She looked to all of the Templar around her, nodding gravely to Ivo's quiet response. Only thirty, many of which were recruits. She thought back to the graves she saw earlier, recalling the total she counted, her face darkening as she did so.

She was brought back from her train of thought as Ivo offered her a pot of blessed oil. She tried to smile. It usually came easy to her, but this time it was different, devoid of any of its optimism or carefreeness. It was a strained smile. "Thanks," she said quietly, slipping it onto her belt, "I appreciate it." Her eyes glanced over to the empty pot that remained on Ivo's belt. Hopefully she'd make good use of it.

She listened to Ivo's final comment, glancing to Saul. "I can try to lead them away from the town, or at least delay them." She paused, gesturing to the partially blown apart Ghoul on the ground. "One illusion was able to fool a ghoul. I can make a lot more than just one, enough to lead some of the horde away. All I need is a horse." It was dangerous, beyond dangerous even, and foolish, but it seemed like the best chance they have to be able to last the horde.

 

[Valerie]

Valerie was meant to accompany Saul on his journey back to Herath. Her work at the Allirian compound had come to a close. Loose ends were tied, treaties were stuck, and now she was needed to head negotiations at Herath. Though half a year had passed since its initial founding, countless issues still seemed to creep out of the wood work between the many chapters.

It seemed almost natural, most of them had remained in opposition of each other for over a millennia, but that didn't mean the kinks that arose weren't pressing and in need of a tender hand. Their newfound peace, while great, was tentative. It was important to foster it where ever possible, and that was where she came in.

So it was a great frustration to not be able to take off with Saul on the road. But when something unforeseen had come up, she had sent him off with the promise to catch up soon. It had taken three frustrating days to resolve the issue back at the compound, and four more days of hard riding to see the smoke in the distance. But when she did her weary body snapped into alertness.

It was never a good things to see smoke in the direction you knew a Templar had gone. Especially when that Templar was Saul.

The woman kicked her horse off into a wild gallop, her armor glinting magnificently against the sun. The Templar crest was emblazoned on her chest, calling her out for what she was.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

It wasn't as much of a heroic sense of duty, or some vested image of wanting to do the right thing. Arnor, truly was at his core, a good man. But in all things, the first thing he considered when taking a job was the payout. Lately, his notoriety for being a reliable, effective sellsword spread throughout the Spine like wildfire, especially so long after Knottington and Belgrath. True, Belgrath was lost, but the Bear-man who fought against Gerra, fell off the ramparts, and was enslaved to the Orc gladiator pits- and lived. The man who fought tooth and nail to return to the Spine, drifting from one place to the next, slaughtering anyone who got in the way of his paycheck. All manner of bandit, raider, beast, and ne'er-do-well fell to his sword.

It was why that he was here, spreading his reach beyond the cold mountains. The temperature here was somewhat more warm, but not all too much this time of year. He still preferred the cold, but for fame and fortune, he'd risk being uncomfortable.

Took him four days of a ride, following the signals of smoke and the directions of passer-bys.

But, a lucky break, or a shitty meeting, depending on who you asked.

The Templar crest brazen across the armor, glinted like a piece of glass on the ground. It made him squint, and Rhi shake his head. Rhi was pissed as much as Arnor was- the horse hadn't had a drink in three days. Arnor had been riding him hard with no beer.

But Rhi would drink his fill and collapse into a drunken stupor some other time. Arnor paused at the crossroads the woman was approaching, slightly etching his sword out of the sheath, just enough to beat a draw if it came to it. Arnor didn't trust anyone, not now, not ever. Not in the summer lands, at least.

They all smelled sneaky as much as they looked it.

He put up a hand as the woman approached.

"You ride for the Ghouls, I'm assuming."

His statement alone let him know that he had a plethora of information where she was going, and who she was, or claimed to be. He doubted the Templars would not put out a call for aid, especially as fractured as their order was. If she denied knowledge, he'd probably cut her throat right then and there. No Templar would miss a fight like that. Or any Templar worth keeping around, either. He also let her know that he knew about the Ghoul attack, and that he was heading to the same place. Their paths had come from different directions, but now they met at a literal crossroads, and had to ride together, or at least, at the same road.

He really didn't want to fight, but something about Arnor spoke to strangers as not the type of man to cross. He'd been through enough across the continent to know his way around a blade, around a fight. Plus the fact he could turn into a giant bear at any given moment deterred a lot of threats.

 

[Saul Talith]

Saul gave Ivo a solemn nod. "Go."

When Kaliana spoke his frown deepened, his fixed on her as his lips thinned out until it seemed they had no blood left within them. He stared, almost as if he was not sure how to answer her question.

The proposition was a bold one, but also dangerous beyond reproach. What she suggested could easily end in her death in multiple ways. The Ghouls could get her, she could overuse her magic, half a dozen other things could happen.

He felt his stomach churn slightly, and then finally he shook his head.

"No." It was hard to say it, but it had to be said. "We fight together. Even if you draw a third of them away...it will only delay things."

He would not see her die. "We can use your talents here."

Saul assured her.

"We have bows, one mage, and we can dig a few traps." The Lord Captain nodded slowly. "I'd rather have your illusions here."

Plus, he didn't want any of them to die alone.

 

[Valerie]

Valerie's horse skidded to a violent stop, the mare screaming in protests as dust kicked up around them. The first thing to notice about the woman before him was the condition of her gear. No Templar he'd likely ever seen would have ever bothered to keep their armor so smooth and polished. Valerie sat tense in her saddle, her posture straight and chin high as she eyed the stranger before her with aloof skepticism.

His weapon was not missed. Her horse was coaxed back a subtle step, the woman not reaching for her own just yet.

"Ghouls?" She reiterated, her surprise not restrained. This was clearly news to her, a worried glance cutting beyond him to the line of smoke she had been fast approaching.

"What do you know of these Ghouls?" Her tone held every bit of the demanding superiority that one would expect from a Templar. Not even Ana had been able to shake herself of that with him, and she had been surprisingly pleasant for what she was.

Her dark gaze held his, expectant and awaiting his immediate answer.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

He turned and began to trot down the road. Well, his horse did. He shook his head, motioning for the woman to follow him. Arnor was on his own time, and time, after all, was money. He didn't immediately respond, not biting into her demanding tone. He spoke softly, and almost bored in his tone.

"I know that even a Templar could use a hired help from time to time."

He began to hum, seemingly unconcerned with the situation at hand. Just an obstacle, payment not yet received for a job not yet done. He went about killing people and things the same way that someone delivering packages would.

She was sitting pretty in her armor and had a pretty face. She was new. Good or bad. He'd wait to find out.

 

[Valerie]

Valerie watched him go for a beat, her brows slowly raising.

She gave a heavy sigh and nudged her horse forward, giving the travel-worn mare a gentle rub of encouragement as it started off.

"Here." Her voice lulled into that same, lazy, yet impatient tone of his. A deft yank of her saddle bag procured a silver coin. She flicked it through the air to him, the coin flipping in a pleasant arch.

"That's for what you can tell me. There will be more if anything worth wild. Fuck with me and I'll slit your throat and take it back." While her tone was cheerful, there was an edge of deadly seriousness to the woman-- not unlike a lioness growling as you stalk near her cubs. Her people were up there, likely in trouble.

You don't mess with that.

"What do you know of the Ghouls."

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

He caught the coin with a sliver of a grin across his handsome features. He rolled the coin between his fingers, Rhi trotting along happily. Rhi was an intelligent enough horse to know that when shiny circle things went into Arnor's hands, he could get drunk and eat a lot of food. Arnor had spoiled his horse, with fine meads, wines, beers, and ales of all kinds, and helpings of cooked food. Odd looks at taverns from time to time, but Arnor was a traveler, he paid the local townsfolk usually no mind.

"I know they're undead. I know they're in the way of me getting paid for the rest of the job. Other than that-" He shrugged. "Not my concern or my problem." He paused, Rhi trotting along happily, invigorated by the idea of a drunken stupor. "I was told the Templars were outnumbered and I was asked to help." He looked back at her, raising a brow.

"And they sent a pretty woman as their only reinforcement? I thought my jokes were bad." He said with a grin, laughing. Rhi huffed and shook his head. As if laughing along with him. Arnor didn't get along with a lot of people, truly. But Rhi and him did, just fine, or at least, well enough that they had a symbiotic sort of relationship.

 

[Valerie]

A cruel smile broke upon Valerie's lips, the woman showing no insult to the words tossed at her. "If looks determine a warrior's merit, you must be very formidable," she told him placatively, the insult thinly veiled as she spoke down to him like a child.

She had no time for this. It was clear he had nothing to offer, or he wouldn't have simply stated the obvious. She adjusted herself in her saddle, motions made to untangle the reigns for a heavy gallop again.

"Well if that's all--" She flicked the reigns, her heels digging into the horses side...

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

He gave a sharp laugh, as she trotted off.

"You're going to attack a bunch of Ghouls by yourself?" He happily trotted along, as reasonably fast as he wanted to, and as much as Rhi would go, currently.

"You? The lone Templar in the very new armor?" He said with a grin, somewhat behind her. He rolled the axe into his hands, flicking his thumb across the blade. The Axe of Knottington, both. The man and the actual axe itself.

"You're full of jokes, aren't you?" He said, stowing the axe for the time being.

 

[Valerie]

She remained unperturbed, feeling no need to explain the reason for the state of her armor. She knew her position called for such a put together appearance. What the roaring, sluggish oaf behind her thought did not matter at all.

"If this is your way of asking to be hired on, it is a poor one," she called out, cutting right to the heart of things. Men following along poking holes at her capabilities was nothing new to her. Either he had a small dick or he wanted money.

She glanced back at him, eyes tearing up and down his figure.

Probably both.

Her pace did not slow.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

"Someone already hired the Axe of Knottington." He looked up at her sternly. Insulting him was one thing, but any damage to his hard-earned reputation was enough to warrant a shift in tone from the mercenary.

Rhi began to move faster, ever so much. The large man on his back prevented him from going too fast. And the rampant alcoholism that Arnor had been letting the horse get away with for some time.

He turned his head, examining the woman as Rhi trotted along next to her.

"Some people don't trust the Templars anymore so they outsource protection. I think you all could do an image overhaul. But business will be good for me until then." Then again, it wasn't his first time this occurred. He'd been in this same situation before- albeit, with a more pleasant and friendly Templar.

 

[Valerie]

The name rang a bell. Her head slowly turned, a hard, skeptical look being leveled at the man as he rode up besides her.

She had heard those words before as well. Out of Ana's own mouth, in fact. The woman was obsessed with changing their public image. Valerie didn't care much what the public thought of them, only the leaders which whom she had to deal with.

"If you were already for hire and on the same path of me, what's the point of these semantics?" She leveled, annoyed.

"More coin?"

A pause, then she continued.

"You should know Templar do not require nor accept payment. It's in your best interest in accept help where it is given. If what lies ahead is not already dealt with, you can rest assure that one spine breaker cannot do so either."

 

[Ivo Coppercrow]

The forge was a tempting locale for Ivo's planned sanctuary. It was a stout building, assembled from that most stalwart material of stone. The lack of a second level, however, rubbed the artificer in a rather unpleasant way. Should the ghouls block up the building's only entrance, his pillbox would prove quite the death trap for whatever Templars sought refuge inside. Nevertheless, it was well stocked with all the tools of its trade, and Ivo took an armful of small hammers and a pair of gloves for his own use.

He hadn't noticed the body until he made his first pass behind the forge. The corpse was that of a diminutive person, curled around themself in a position of piteous defense. It looked as though the ghouls had taken their fill from this stranger before any Templar had made it to town.

Ivo said a quiet prayer for their safe passage to whatever waits beyond, thanking them for the worldly goods they'd left behind. The recruit's eyes then rose a crucible, sat precariously atop the forge's ledge about half a meter from what remained of its dying embers. Images of Saul's spell backfired throughout the young man's mind, and he swore he could still hear the sound of stones splintering across the room.

That's the odd thing about artificing - Inspiration can come from anywhere.

With a trio of smithing hammers and a crucible in hand, the neophyte cut his course back into the tavern. It had been one of the town's only sources of income, catering to those passing through along journeys for and from the merchant city a week to the east. The building was one of the tallest in town, bearing two stories in order to support as many travelers as its meager footprint would allow. That second floor may prove to be the Templar's salvation should the first be overrun, and the log walls may prove staunch enough to hold back an undead tide.

Gathered smith's tools clattered hard against the bar, soon joined by a series of less common instruments. Small vials of abrasive chemicals, pots of paint, a small rod of unplaceable metal, and much more obscured within small pouches and sleeves, all pulled from the belt and coat of the Templar's modest recruit. The work ahead would prove long and tiresome, but Ivo's life had hardly been easy up to that point. No reason for that fact to change then, either.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

"The other Templar I met had about the same stick up her ass as you did."

They trotted along, the column of smoke coming into view. To Arnor, however- there was the distinct smell of necrotic flesh. The Nordenfiir sneered his nose at the smell. He pushed aside his senses for the idea of making a healthy amount of money from the job.

People in neighboring towns had a vested interest in not being overrun by monsters- and they cared slightly about their neighbors.

Arnor laughed when she broke off his other name.

"Luckily for you, this time I'm doing this for money, not survival. So I think between you and me, we'll be enough. Or we'll die. Either way, world keeps spinning."

 

[Kalianna Romane]

The silence that followed Kalianna's offer, brief as it was, spawned a tumbling whirlwind of thoughts within her. The changing expression on the captain's face gave no hint to his response, a vague thoughtfulness and consideration its only feature. Finally, prefaced with a solemn shaking of his head, Saul answered. The bard nodded, saying, "Of course. I'll try my best."

Gazing around the Mayor's Residence they were currently situated in, however, a new idea came to life in her mind. Glancing at the exploded remnants of the Ghoul scattered across the floor, it seemed that this necromancer was able to locate and manipulate it. As such, it'd make sense the horde would go to this very location, under the pretense that the Templars would still be there. Now, if they could exploit that assumption...

An idea fresh in her mind, she caught up with Ivo, locating him at the bar of the town's tavern, surrounded by a menagerie of tools and odd instruments. "Nice choice for a bunker, the alcohol's a nice bonus," she commented, the tone solemn despite the humor. "Listen, I could use your help. Do you think you could whip up an explosive? Something you could plant ahead of time, and set off from a distance?"

 

[Saul Talith]

Saul did not like the answer that he had to give.

A part of him had almost suggested to both Kalinna and Ivo that they make a break for it. The two Apprentices had spent the least time with the Orders, at least of those Templar gathered here, and he almost thought he had the best shot at convincing them to leave.

Yet he'd had to make the hard decision.

Saul frowned for a moment more, then stepped outside of the building. He looked around for a few moments and spotted a few of the Templar hard at work.

Most of them were carving stakes, a few dug ditches, and still others worked diligently to create and stoke some fires that could later be used.

Saul joined those digging ditches.

He figured they had precious little time, and the hardest work would require the most attention. So the Lord Captain of the Templar Alliance stripped off his armor and got down in the dirt, figuring that another foot deep might save a life.

If only for a few hours.

 

[Ivo Coppercrow]

Ivo had been halfway through carving a triquetra on the bar when Kalianna made her entrance. He set his knife aside and wiped the sweat from his brow as she grimly complimented his choice of locale. "I picked out a bottle of wine to uncork when the job's done," he said, donning a strained smile despite the stacked odds of their survival. "Nothing too posh, mind you. We haven't exactly settled down in the nicest city this side of the Reach."

The recruit chewed his lip at her mention of an explosive, looking as though she had beaten him to the punch. His eyes shifted to the crucible still sitting on the bar, and he nodded once. "That's not a word most people use unless they're in an alchemists storefront, but, yes. I can see about that." A remote detonation may prove difficult with his current mastery of the craft, but the artificer had a few ideas. These ghouls were practically overflowing with whatever was keeping them animated, and their creator's apparent hubris may just prove the perfect mechanism to set off a great big 'boom'.

The artificer took his pilfered crucible in hand, giving it a careful turn as he examined it's construction. The tool was composed of a hardy ceramic material, likely intended to melt down lighter alloys. A single crease ran down its side, forming the perfect seam to split open. "... I gave it some thought before you came in. It may take me some time, but you'll have a trap fit for a drake."

 

[Kalianna Romane]

She gave a laugh, dry and strained as it was, at the mention of wine. "After this, I'll take what I can get." When it comes to celebrating what could very well have almost their end, one couldn't afford to get picky.

As Ivo considered his resources, she watched with great anticipation. She knew little about what it took to construct what she was asking for, or if it was possible with the materials at hand. What she did know, however, was what they could use it for if it could be made. When Ivo gave his answer, a grin spread across her face, a hint of optimism entering her expression.

"That'll be great, thank you." She gave a look of relief, taking a glance out the window at the Mayor's Residence. "With that explosive, we could set off a rather effective trap right at the Mayor's Residence. That creator of theirs knew we were in that building from that ghoul we captured. Now, if I set up some illusions of Templars inside, they'd have no reason to think we moved bunkers. Once the ghouls get in..." She mimed an explosion with her hands. "That'd be a sizeable chunk of the horde removed from the equation before they even got close to where we're holed up."

 

[Valerie]

Valerie said nothing to that.

Her expression grew pinched as they pushed their way ever forward. She slowed her pace to a brisk trot once finite details came into view, the woman narrowing her eyes scanning the horizon for threats. No movement came from the treeline, but before the city gate small forms seemed to be thrashing.

No, not thrashing... Digging. A moat, she presumed, a flood of relief hitting her as she observed what that would mean-- the town wasn't taken yet.

"My men must be inside," she declared, kicking off into an abrupt gallop. The woman approached like a wild storm, the deep red sunset reflecting off her armor.

 

[Arnor Skuldsson]

Arnor's horse stood tall at the crest of the horizon. To the townspeople, he was silhouetted, a brutishly tall man on a horse, larger than any horse in the vicinity.

Arnor rode with her, coming to face the Templars. He took off from the horse, the ground underneath his feet lightly buckling under the weight of the Nordenfiir. He turned and spoke to Rhi, in a language that no one in the Summer Lands had heard in many years, or ever.

Rhi gave a huff and walked off, a horse with a mind and soul all it's own. He walked among the Templars, towering over the humans and other races, armored only at the shoulders and arms with chainmail. But the collection of swords- and the particular axe hung at his waist showed that he was a capable warrior.

Arnor turned his head towards the treeline, knowing the Ghouls were out there. His hands thrashed. He hadn't shifted in a long while. Nordenfiir began to get... itchy if they didn't shift. He hadn't done so in quite some time. Too fond of his clothes, and too fond of not terrifying any of the residents here.

Arnor walked among the edge of the lines, facing the treeline, away from the Templars, before turning and walking back towards the center of town. He answered to no man but himself, but he found it beneficial from time to time to coincide his efforts with like-minded people. And he had been asked to help defend the town. He came upon, after a brief walk, a pair of people making what appeared to be traps. It just so happened Arnor was there in the tavern, not to do any business or find a strategy or offer his help- but to pilfer a drink before it all started.

He said nothing to the two inside, instead walking behind the bar and fetching a bottle of wine. It was recently made, but tasted good all the same.

He then looked over at the two making traps, or at least, making a concoction of some kind. A pretty woman and a nefarious looking fellow. He spoke after downing a majority of the bottle by himself.

"I am Arnor, son of Skuld. I was sent here to help in the defense...." He looked around, taking in the scenery.

"Probably going to die, all the same. Moneys good, at least."

 

[Ivo Coppercrow]

Trapping the mayor's residence... It certainly wasn't a bad idea by any stretch, and it was a whole lot better than his previous thought to make a shrapnel bomb and toss it into the horde once the going got tough. Kali was proving quite cunning, though illusionists and cleverness do tend to go hand in hand. "Let's hope we can stop them at the wall, but--" Ivo bit back the feeling that they simply couldn't keep the ghouls at bay. Instead, he put on a brave smile and nodded once. "Well, it's always good to have a contingency, isn't it?"

The artificer took up a small brush from his rolled out supplies, cracking the seal on a small jar of red paint. With the crucible still in hand, he began to draw odd symbols all around its interior span. The runes spoke of respiration, spinning tales of oxygen in places where none should be-- Sure, these glyphs may have been 'intended' for breathing underwater, but air can make for one hell of an accelerant under the right circumstances. A single pattern wove between all of the assembled runes, spinning down to the very base of the vessel. In three quick strokes, Ivo capped off his work with one final symbol, a passionate little sign to invoke a spark at the right moment.

"I think that should be a good start," he said, though his following thought hung in the air as an unfamiliar man pushed in through the door. The artificer's arm shuddered for a moment as he set the half finished device aside, resting his palm at his thigh while his eyes trailed the man towards the bar. The large fellow pulled a bottle of wine from where Ivo had set it aside, pulling the cork without a care and downing a massive portion of its contents.

Many would call this a bad omen. The artificer, however, recalled a phrase from his younger years - A more vulgar take on the classical 'rude move', though it didn't quite translate beyond Anirian contexts. "At least you're getting paid," he remarked dryly, looking back to the work at hand and trying to push thoughts of wasted wine aside. "My name's Ivo. Not the son of anyone important, but people called me Coppercrow and it stuck."

 

[Kalianna Romane]

"It never hurt anybody to have one," she added, matching the brave expression with one of her own. She hoped that the ghouls would fail to reach even beyond the perimeter of the town as well, but despite that hope and their traps, it was unlikely. A backup plan for when - if, she reminded herself - the wall is breached would only help them during the attack.

Ivo quickly set out to work on the makeshift explosive, inscribing red runes along the interior of the crucible. Kalianna watched the process intently, and although she didn't grasp the specifics of it, it was interesting to see an artificer at work. "When we get out of this mess, I want you to teach me a little of this. You're good." A silent, prodding thought soon followed, mentally replacing the 'when' with a morbid seed of doubt. The anticipation of the horde seemed nearly as harrowing as the prospect itself, a cold calculating reminder at every turn of the mind.

She nodded, agreeing with his assessment of the trap. She was about to reply when the sound of a door swinging came instead. She shifted her head, watching in rising disbelief as the large man entered and swiftly gravitated towards the bottle of wine they had set aside. It was a sudden and entirely unexpected occurrence, one that nearly blindsided her with its arrival.

"Don't think the money's going to come in handy if you wind up dead in the process," she remarked on the rather mercenary train of thought. "Kalianna Romane. My father's importance depends on who you ask, but he's not the one here right now." She looked over the man. Well, at least he seemed like a warrior, albeit an ill-mannered one. "Who sent you? I hope they sent a couple more."

 

[Saul Talith]

Saul did not notice the path Arnor took, but he did notice a figure in gleaming Templar Armor riding towards the town as he sat deep inside of a ditch.

Those around him did not stop digging as Saul pulled himself out of the muck, his fingers digging into the dirt. His shirt was stained, his hair was a tussled mess, and mud caked most of his face. The moat was a couple of feet deep now.

It would stop a few ghouls, enough to make a difference.

Though not enough to save them.

"Catch up to us finally, eh?" The Lord Captain called out to Valerie as she approached upon her mount. A smile touched his face, though in his head grim thoughts formed. Now that she was here she'd likely also die.

At least she would die among friends.

That was something.