Private Tales For King and Country

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Yvaine's shoulders lifted and she felt herself sink back timidly as she was surrounded by people staring down at her, her eyes moving between each one. She could see the concern, the curiosity and the scrutiny in their faces..perhaps even a flicker of fear in one or two of them. "I.." she paused and clutched Juniper a little tighter as the vixen attentively nuzzled and licked at her jaw.

The doctor took over and handed her a cup of cool water as he knelt beside her. "Seems a fever is working on her, Captain.." the older man smiled at her as he pressed the cup into her hand. "You need to drink, My Lady." He had kind eyes, and so she did, and the long sip calmed her enough to collect her thoughts.

"I'm sorry, Captain, I assured you I'd be no burden and it seems that's all I've been. I'm fine." she insisted in effort to deflect and avoid more fuss. She glanced to the man waiting ardently to speak with Faulkin and she forced a small smile in assurance. "Please, you have far more important things to do." she dismissed diffidently and pushed the furs from her scalding torso, realising that she was covered in the mud she'd fallen into. Her cheeks flushed a little hotter and she groaned to herself.

She glanced to Lord Rossiter apologetically, half remembering his voice trying to get through to her. "Really.. I'm alright, I'm sure I'm in capable hands.." she nodded, and a few of the onlookers backed off as the doctor rummaged in his stock of tinctures, powders and herbs, muttering to himself.
 
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Faulkin watched intently as the doctor carried out his business. Amongst other reasons, there was a particular interest in making sure Yvaine stayed safe and well. Though he knew it was likely he was to return to Drennantor without her, he knew he'd suffer a far more severe fate if he allowed something to happen to her under his care. He wondered however, how much it would really matter in that regard - either way, the King was no doubt going to be quite displeased with him following these events.

He began to wonder how much he cared.

Maybe... I should leave too?

She drank.

Yvaine said:
"I'm sorry, Captain, I assured you I'd be no burden and it seems that's all I've been. I'm fine... Please, you have far more important things to do."
Click to expand...

"Hardly, My Lady. The road has been unforgiving to us... but yes, if you'll excuse me..." Faulkin nodded his head, and turned to speak with his sentry. Tor however, remained.

"My Lady," he said, adding his respects, "if I may ask, do you remember what it was you said before you... uhh... fell?"


"Capt'n," the sentry said, his voice low and rough, "you best come have a look at this."

The sentry led Faulkin out from beneath the shelter of their camp, to the southern exposure. There, several men were gathered with their weapons drawn, and their nerves at end. Faulkin looked between them with a hasty concern, and then his sentry pointed out into the dark, and Faulkin looked. Out, far beyond the light of torches, where nothing but blackness could be seen, he beheld two red dots. Then, another set, and then another... some strange creatures had followed them.

Dozens. Staring at them. Watching them.

Stalking them.

Yvaine ​
 
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Yvaine forced an awkward smile at Faulkin’s assurances and watched as he turned away, her eyes moving apprehensively between Captain and sentry, her ears picking up the hushed anxiety in the man’s voice. She couldn’t shake that something was wrong, that something terrible loomed over them, but some were already looking at her like she was crazy and truth be told, she wasn’t sure that they weren’t right to think it. There had to be a logical explanation, she told herself as she craned her neck to see past the doctor, watching Faulkin leave. She felt her chest tighten, and she was so lost in her own mind that she physically gasped as Tor spoke. Juniper bristled.

“What?..Oh, I..” her brow furrowed and she lifted her gaze to the man in confusion. Why did it matter? It seemed such an official line of gentle interrogation to ask about a simple fever-induced hallucination.

“I don’t remember saying anything..” she frowned at him, a little more worried that she’d been speaking without meaning to. She thought of the only word that came to mind, the one she heard over and over and she bit down on her lip, considering for a moment before clearing her throat..

“I keep.." she started hesitantly.. "Hearing the word Aeraesar.. amongst other whispers. But, I’m not sure what it means, what any of it means, and therefore why it’s in my mind at all.” She looked up at Tor who was staring at her curiously, as was the doctor. The skin on her arms bloomed with goosebumps and the back of her neck tingled as the whispers started to creep back in, like invisible tendrils looking for points of weakness.

“Something is wrong.” She warned in a hushed tone. “We can’t stay here.”
 
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“I keep.." she started hesitantly.. "Hearing the word Aeraesar.. amongst other whispers..." ​

Tor nodded along as he listened, far from alarmed at her lack of understanding. He had suspected as much.

"Well, it is not just a word M'lady," he said, but her anxiety overruled his compulsion to speak before he continued...

Yvaine said:
“Something is wrong.” She warned in a hushed tone. “We can’t stay here.”
Click to expand...

It wasn't until that moment, but when her warning came he too felt that something was... off.

"Yes... but... what could it be?"


Faulkin looked out into the night, frozen for a moment from the sight he beheld. Dozens of eyes, distant, peering back at him. But, just as he and his stayed their ground, so too did they - at least for now. Without withdrawing his gaze he regarded his sentry again, "what do you make of them?"

The sentry shook his head, "not sure, Capt'n. But... they ain't been there long..."

An unsettling silence found them, and to him this quiet was as cruel as winter's chill.

A crackle of fire from within... a brief, ominous breeze...

As he looked out he beheld yet another set of red orbs, and then once again, another. More were coming, and as he turned his head to the east, his heart quickened, a look to the west and it nearly dropped. We're being surrounded. But still, whatever they were they did not have them outnumbered, at least not yet, but if they kept appearing like they seemed to...

He turned to one of the men, Tarron, a smaller but loyal soldier of his, and said, "night-watch is over... we're leaving... get me Alwin."

And with that, Tarron nodded and entered back into the camp to rouse the resting, to begin with all haste, but not before rushing to Alwin, who was yet near Tor.

 
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"Well, it is not just a word M'lady.."

Yvaine stared at the man expectantly. She couldn't feign her unvexed composure any longer, she couldn't pretend to believe that it was nothing more than a dream or hallucination. It was real, in one way or another, something was trying to lay claim to her mind.

"Yes... but... what could it be?"

"Darkness." she answered simply. It was what had been watching her, it was what had risen from the ground and swallowed her whole. There was no other way to describe the feeling, it was empty, cold, darkness.

Yvaine threw the blankets that'd been layered on top of her shivering body and the doctor's hands came up to stop her. "My Lady, you must res--"

"I will not. We must go." she protested and pushed herself to her feet with a stagger, Tor's hand reaching out to catch her arm and steady her.

"Please, My Lady, let the doctor see to you.." Tor reasoned.

"NO! You must listen!" she demanded and pulled her arm back, her temper flaring in frustration. She hadn't realised until she stood unaided just how weak she was. She stumbled, and managed to catch herself on an elder willow tree, her hands splayed out on it's craggy surface.

There was a tingle, the feeling of the spirit that dwelt within and Yvaine titled her head back to stare up at its twisting boughs with a small frown. "Don't.. I'm fine." she spoke to Tor and the doctor who were about to lay steadying hands on her. Yvaine's eyes closed, and she chose to listen. To what, she didn't know, she simply felt that she should.

The whispers were quiet at first, soothing even. The tingle spread from her palms, down her arms and into her chest and seemed to course through her entire body, a militia of chills marching down her spine and causing a shudder. The whispers grew louder as Yvaine grew stronger. As though the tree, the forest, something was giving her it's energy and strength.

Her lips curled into a soft smile as she quickly forgot about her worries and the looming danger, but it was all too soon. The whispers grew suddenly too loud, and Yvaine gasped, unable to pull her hands from the Willow's rough skin. Images flashed through her mind too quickly to comprehend, but the fear she felt was plain.

Snarling, razor sharp teeth... Crimson orbs... Black, sinewy skin... Blood... Death.

The sound of a scream dragged her back to reality and she fell back from the tree into Tor's arms, her heart thundering so quickly she was certain it was audible. She looked in panic at some of the faces that looked back at her. Faces she'd just seen that lay lifeless in the dirt.

"Faulkin!!" she called in alarm as Tor's arms wrapped around her, trying to calm her as though she were a woman possessed.

"RUN!!"
 
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Tarron never made it to Alwin, not before Yvaine cried out to the captain in terror. Her voice carried easily across the silence of the camp, and drew all eyes onto her. Briefly. There was hardly more than a breath of time for the confusion to hang before a loud crack split the sky with light, and the ground shook with the following boom. Panic set in, and there arose the sound of many voices with trembling and fear, and all those within the camp became afraid. Yes, afraid. And out beyond the camp, those things that were out there... they stirred...


"Faulkin!!" she called in alarm as Tor's arms wrapped around her, trying to calm her as though she were a woman possessed.

"RUN!!"
​
He turned his head back in, worry washing over him. He started to make his way back in when the lightning struck, and cast a bright light over the land. But his eyes had turned in, and had not seen.

"By... the gods..." gasped the sentry, and Faulkin froze. He turned back again, and looked to the sentry. His back had stiffened, and, he shook. He trembled.

"What did you see?"

"Oh... my... god!"

The fear Faulkin heard in this man's voice was unlike anything he had heard before. It struck Faulkin harshly, and his own imagination began to run rampant with what in all the world would instill such terror in such a seasoned warrior. But just as the thunder had stolen the silence, now too did the angry snarling of the creatures in the distance. Some sounded like terrible monsters, some resembled the sound of howling banshees, and others akin to those dying some horrible death. And it grew louder as they started nearer to them.

And as the threat mounted, there came a change to Faulkin's demeanour. In the face of the fear that seemed to grasp at them from somewhere far beyond, he grew defiant. Stubborn blood ran hot in his veins, and when the beasts that drew closer demanded his submission to their tricks, their presence, he spat his fury at them and bowed to nothing. Drawing his sword, he protested whatever power they had, and with a voice of rallying strength and clarity he called his warriors to arms.

And it was now, and times like these, when even in the thralls of uncertainty and doubt, it was vivid why his soldiers followed him so. He was not just any captain. He was their Captain.

They answered the call.


"My lady," Tor protested, struggling to keep her at bay - all for her own safety of course. He could still recall quite clearly Yvaine as a small child, and being a father himself felt compelled to protect her in the King's stead on this unannounced field trip she'd decided to take. But even with those instincts vying for the helm, he couldn't shake that she likely perceived something he could not, and it unnerved him to think of what it could be.

... and then he heard them, the beasts far off that prior to now he could never have known of. Merely what he heard made a chill run down his spine. And then he heard the Captain's call. It carried like a wave over the camp, and the confusion was washed away. To battle it was to be then, and in their Captain they trusted.

"My lady," Tor repeated, with somehow a more comforted tone, "there is no more time to run... please."


Tarron eventually did make it to Alwin, but not too long before Faulkin's call was heard. Alwin knew what to do. He turned his back on those charging to their Captain's side, and started his task.

The envoy needed to be safeguarded, and while the soldiers kept whatever new threat there was at bay, he would organize the others' departure.

 
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Yvaine could feel the eyes on her as she writhed in Tor's bearish hold. She couldn't hear her rapid breathing, but she felt the oxygen flooding in and out of her lungs start to slow and turn to stone. The flash of light and thunderous crack stilled her and she lapsed into stunned silence, her golden eyes wide as she cast her gaze toward the heavens.

Suddenly, the silence surrendered to the haunting sounds of her nightmare and her horrorstricken gaze slowly fell to the darkness yonder as she felt them, the horde, grow closer. Faulkin's voice restarted her panic and her pulse pitched to frantic..

"My lady," Tor repeated, with somehow a more comforted tone, "there is no more time to run... please."

"No....No no no no.." her head shook. "They're going to die. There's too many, Tor." she shoved her way out of his grip and turned to curl her fingers into his coat. "I've seen it.. Please, Tor, make them run." she begged of the man, the image of the strewn bodies pressed into the blackness of her mind.

The sound of panic drew her attention toward the noble Lords and Ladies, the other travellers, the mothers who pulled their children into their arms and scanned the inky dark forests for any sign of what was coming. She listened. Her ears focused on those sickening sounds of monstrous beasts growing ever closer, and her fingers unfurled from Tor's coat as she looked up at him, her expression pausing in realisation. They were surrounded. They were too late. She was too late.

"Any who can't fight - get yourselves into the wagons. Now! As many of you as you can." Yvaine demanded as she turned her attention to the assemblage. She had never been authoritative in her life, but the way they looked at her, the fear in their eyes told her that they believe she knew what was coming for them. They didn't ask questions, and quickly started piling in.There wasn't enough room for all of them, but they'd have to squeeze.

The little vixen whimpered at Yvaine's feet, and the woman leaned to scoop her into her arms and hold her close, and her eyes closed as she waited for that first scream she knew was coming.
 
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It was only a short time after he'd called when many of his soldiers came to his side. Quickly, they formed rank behind him, and took the shape of a crescent against the beasts, which came from all sides it seemed. And hardened they were, most of them. Those who had not seen. But as the monstrosities made their way closer, and the light of dim flame lit their disfigured forms, a dread like no other fell upon the troop. Twisted and unnatural creatures, of many sorts, changed from whatever they once were.

Even Faulkin faltered, for a moment.

And then the first beast bolted forward, its speed frightening, and its growl full of hate. It was carried by four legs, and it had two heads with grevious fangs. Faulkin was the first to spring into action, and his courage inspired his men who quickly followed after, shouting the cries of war.

Faulkin's sword was true, severing one of the creature's heads before it could ensnare him. His axe fell upon the other, embedding itself deep in its skull. But as quickly as that beast fell another lunged forth, lashing out with tendrils of spines and poison. Several of his men intervened, and Faulkin was free to engage yet another terrible creature.


There wasn't enough time for Tor to make it to Faulkin's side. As the monsters fell upon the warriors who had rushed out to meet them, a few others managed to slip through the cracks... including one in particular, which did no less than come crashing through an entire wagon, splitting it into several pieces and casting its occupants in a variety of directions. Tor turned to it, and his eyes grew wide at the sight, and the prospect of his fighting it. With so few remaining in the camp, he was essentially - by his reckoning - the only one to answer this threat.

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​
Tor snarled as the beast lashed out at some brave men who sought to attack the creature. It stood at least twelve feet tall, could devour a man whole - and gruesomely did, armour and all - and had a reach that would be... troublesome.

He took up his hammer, and charged toward the beast to challenge it, and hopefully keep it from endangering the Lady Yvaine and the remaining transport.


Alwin had just finished rigging the first wagon when the large beast crashed through the one just adjacent to him. They were still rounded, and more or less sitting ducks. He urged the first wagon to depart and made haste to help finish the rigging of Yvaine's wagon. He looked fearfully as Tor charged against the creature, but if there was any among them that could hold it at bay, it would be him.

He came to a sliding halt before the carriage, bumping another man aside as he took charge, almost frantically making the attachments.

 
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If only she'd listened. If only she'd understood the warnings that rattled in her mind, that grew louder the farther they walked into the jaws of hell. Why hadn't she believed her own mind, that the weakness she'd felt had not been due to some mundane fever? She was never sick.

Why hadn't she listened?

She listened now; her eyes closed and her brow knit as she so desperately sought guidance of some sort, but now, now her mind was silent, as though whatever had tried to warn her had given up and retreated to safety. Now, all she could hear were the roars of man against monster, the panic and pain and the last strangled cries of death.

Yvaine didn't move for some time. She stood stagnant in the rush of chaos that surrounded her, as though a flood could wash over her without uprooting her feet.

Please..

Nothing. A single tear rolled down her flushed cheek as she let out a shuddered breath in resignation, and breathed in a tendril of rage that caused her livid gaze to snap open and lift into the canopy as though whatever had been whispering in her mind resided there, hiding in the tall evergreen.

"You were too late!" she screamed above the sounds of horror as she turned in a slow circle, eyes of molten gold seeking something for which to project her fury. "You let these people die!" her voice broke, unused to the wrath it held. The dead she spoke of were not dead yet, but she knew now that it would come to pass. For all she knew, she may yet be one of them. Juniper whined and licked at her chin before attempting to burrow down into Yvaine’s folded arms.

There were no more strange looks from doctors or nobles, no more quiet gossip behind their palms. They had far worse to fear now than Yvaine, and her unrequited cries went unnoticed. It was the splintering crash and harrowing screams that accompanied it that brought her attention back to the chaos she'd been trying to ignore, and her body spun to take in the sight. She drew in a breath and it stuck as fear wrapped itself like a scarf too tightly around her neck.


“It’s alright to be afraid, Evie..But you mustn’t let it control you..” the memory of her mother’s gentle voice drifted like a ghost through her mind. She’d been stood at the top of a small waterfall as a child, hesitant to jump in.“Everything you want, is on the other side of fear.. Just listen to the spirits, they won’t guide you wrong..” When Yvaine had listened then, she’d heard the waterfall above all else. She’d let it wash away all worry, and even now it was a sound that comforted her. She suddenly realised however, that the spirits her mother had been talking about, had been far more literal and less imaginary.

She remembered to breathe, and above the sound of her own heart pounding in her chest, was the manic and mindless screaming of frantic nobles and merchants, bringing her back to reality.

Yvaine didn’t know much at all about fighting, she wasn’t stupid enough to try, but she wouldn’t be a hinderance if she could help it. She wouldn’t let her fear root her to the spot any longer, and as she watched Tor rush at the monstrous creature, her heart leapt, and she ran to help Alwin.

“Juni, hide.” She let the fox down and it bristled and scampered off to find a safe place.

She stopped at a man who appeared dead on his feet, his complexion pale and his face horror-stricken as he stared on at the monster. “Lord Brett. You must move!..” The man mumbled something incoherent, and Yvaine glanced over her shoulder at the shrill cry the beast made. More would come, before long. She could only pray that Faulkin’s men held up. Yvaine turned back to the awestruck Lord, and when a firm shake of his shoulders did nothing, she lifted a hand to strike it across his face and the man let out a startled cry. “We must move, now!”

“Yes..Yes. W-we must.” He agreed and collected his wits before turning to rush away.

Yvaine carried on to the next, she begged them to move, to keep calm, to hush and stop screaming. Her eyes cast across those who had already perished, and her mind’s eye cast her back to the haunting image she’d already seen. “Someone help me get the wounded to the wagons!” she demanded as she started trying to help the wounded to their feet.
 
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Every breath was filled with desperation.

Every roaring shout, every shrieking cry.

And each moment was chilled in fear. But still, warmth burned within, and against the tides of these fearfully formed monsters, it fought hard to stay alight. But hardened resolve was only so strong, and none of them were prepared for the barbarity, the horror that had come for them.


We're all going to die, he thought. For one so proud, Alwin was quick to descend into pessimism. But he always was, and in a strange way despite how gruesome their foes were proving to be, this time offered little more anxiety to him than any other time - except this time he really thought they would die. He did however seem to function quite easily under the circumstance, and had quickly managed to rig this wagon.

A flash of light caught his eye, and he turned to see...


...Tor had slammed his hammer hard against the ground, causing the earth there to quake and fracture. His weapon glowed brightly, and he raised it high overhead as he leapt toward the monster...


...Alwin turned to Yvaine as she shouted for help in aiding the wounded. He moved to her side quickly, and gave her such help with a man who'd lost his arm, and been greviously bitten and torn. They came to the wagon, and as the wounded was taken by those entering in, Alwin put his hand down on Yvaine's shoulder and said, "my Lady, there is little else to be done. You must-"

"Watch out!"

Alwin quickly turned his head, and one of the monsters, resembling some kind of demon wolf, barreled down on them. Quickly Alwin charged toward the beast, and drew out his sword... but he was taken unawares by another running perpendicular to the other, and it leapt into him and slammed him into the ground. The other moved in on him, and with everyone else quite occupied, it seemed this would be his end as the monsters bit into him.

But luck would be on his side for the moment, for none other than the Captain himself had come to his aid...


And with a thunderous kick the first beast was delivered from atop his friend, and with the swing of his sword Faulkin ended the second's miserable existence. Then he leapt overtop him to bring his axe down into the other monster before it could recover from his blow, and finished it. He whirled around to face Yvaine and Alwin, who was helped to his feet by one of the few - very few - who had rushed back in with him. He'd lost his helmet, was drenched in sweat, and had an almost crazed look in his eye.

"Quickly," he snapped, "get the Lady Yvaine to safety."

And before anyone could question him just yet he turned to rush to Tor's aid, but paused. Tor stood triumphantly atop the beasts corpse, having beat the things head quite thoroughly with his great hammer.

Faulkin beckoned him over with urgency, and whirled around again, "we must go. Now."

 
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Yvaine breathed out a desperate 'Thank you' as Alwin took most of the man's weight and helped get him into the wagon. It filled up quickly with wounded, and the doctor was already at work assessing his priorities. She dragged the back of her hand across her brow, smearing her flushed skin with blood and she turned her glassy eyes to Alwin with a premature nod at what he'd been about to say, but the warning sent another jolt of fear through her and her gaze snapped toward the snarling beast that bore down on them.

Everything seemed to moved slowly for a moment. Everything quieted as her mind seemed to block it out, and as she watched Alwin run toward the beast she saw the other make it's charge. Her heart stopped at the sight and Yvaine screamed out his name before she watched it barrel him into the ground. Someone was pulling her back as she watched the beasts tear into him, but she wriggled free of the grip and had been about to run toward the creatures before help appeared in a form far more adept at fighting off monsters than she.

Veres squealed. The friesian had gotten loose and was weaving his way through the upturned camp, avoiding debris, bodies and the people who scurried here and there trying to get to safety. Yvaine held out her hand and the horse rushed toward her as she watched Faulkin smite the freakish wolves. She couldn't drag her eyes away, and silent tears fell as she realised how their numbers had dwindled. Guilt threatened to drag her to her knees as she watched Alwin's torn body being lifted from the ground, but she felt the little fox leap onto her back and scurry up to wrap itself around her shoulders.

Yvaine pulled herself up into her saddle and turned Veres about, her gaze cast over the dead for movement. "Give him here." she held out her hand to those helping Alwin. He couldn't ride on his own, and the wagons were already moving. "Quickly!"
 
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At Yvaine's behest, Tarron, who had been the one to help Alwin to his feet, also helped him to climb aboard Veres to make their escape.

Sounds of battle could still be heard. Small pockets of what remained from both sides of the conflict, but there was urgency in the air that screamed for them to depart, like this was only the beginning.

Faulkin climbed aboard one of the final wagons as it started to roll away, turning back to extend a hand to Tor, only, Tor did not follow. Faulkin watched as he smote another misshapen creature into oblivion instead.

Then Tor turned to him and said, "go lad! Keep the girl safe! I'll rally the survivors and follow after!"

With that, he turned and jumped once again into the fray.


It hadn't been an easy call, but it was one that had to be made.

They were safe now, those delegates who were destined for Elbion, and, more importantly, Yvaine. That was all that truly mattered now. For her to "run away" under his watch was one thing - to be killed... was another, and not just to the King.

But it came with a heavy cost.

In the face of overwhelming brutality, it had grown obvious to him that unless they acted soon, it was possible none of them would make it out alive. He was tasked with ensuring their precious cargo was delivered, and to discover the fate of the previous envoy.

He began to believe he'd found that answer.

But to safeguard the delegation's escape he was forced to essentially sacrifice many of those under his command.

He could only hope that with Tor's presence, and the relief from the departing of the envoy, that they would prevail.


Milvahn

Their first checkpoint north of Drennantor's border was a homely little place the locals called Milvahn. Faulkin had been here before, and this place at least offered to him a comforting familiarity. Whatever it was they had encountered had not come to this place. At least... not yet. Lining the dirt road near the local doctor's house rested the convoy of wagons. In a place like this, no one spot was too far from the bar, and some of the soldiers had decided, promptly, to try their very best to forget this night.

Faulkin sat with his back against a wagon wheel just outside the doctor's house. He was stripped to the waist, having just finished recieving some stitches on his arms and chest where several superficial wounds had been sustained. His arms hung limply over his raised knees, and in one hand he held a bottle he occasionally sipped from.

Within, he could hear the cries of some of the wounded. Some of their injuries had been brutal, and he imagined that despite any healer's best effort, some of them would soon pass. It was a painful, yet numbing thought. It lingered over him like a weighted garmet, causing his shoulders to sag and his head hang low. So many had died already. He was forbidden from entering now that he was mended, and unable to render any real assistance. It was a fair thing, there was much to do and few to help - he'd only get in the way. So he chose to remain there for now, and listen. For those whose last moments were to come, he felt he owed at least this last humble vigil.

For them, and those who could not follow.

 
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Alwin had slumped forward in her saddle, and Yvaine's arms wrapped around him and took the reins to keep him from falling. He gave her a reason to leave that was more than her own safety, for that alone would not have stopped her trying to convince Tor to come with them. She rode between the wagons, careful glances cast over her shoulder too often in her paranoia, but the farther they travelled, the more her nerves eased, and the more her heart sank.

She felt the blood from Alwin's wounds soak through his clothing and then through hers, and Veres remained unperturbed as the ruby rivulets coursed down his inky fur. She held him tightly against her, listening to his heartbeat over the thunder of hooves as she made haste toward Milvahn. "Stay with me, Alwin.." she whispered by his ear every so often, and by the time she had reached the town, she had gained ten minutes on the rest of the envoy, and the local medics were ready and waiting to receive the wounded.


Yvaine was no healer, but she was determined to be of use, resolute to the cause of somehow making it up to these people, and trying to keep her mind and body occupied. Only once had the physician insisted she leave, but the demand in her tone that he tell her what to do to help had him reluctantly agree and teach her quickly how to clean and dress wounds to some acceptable degree.

Alwin had been the first to be tended. "He's in the Gods' hands now, my dear." the doctor had insisted after the third time she'd asked if he'd live. There were others she knew, some who's wounds were simple enough for the medics to tend to, others that required more work, more hands, and some who were given poppy milk and left to bleed out. She stayed with those ones, and tried not to look as afraid as she felt when they'd gripped her hand so tightly. She told them to rest, and lied that they'd be alright, until the grips loosened.

Yvaine walked straight past Faulkin as she rushed outside to breathe. She was blood-sodden, tired and grief-stricken, and she leaned to the side of a water barrel and emptied her stomach, her bloody hand shaking as she pressed the back of it to her lips and let a few tears fall. They'd grown too heavy to hold onto for much longer.
 
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The sound of the swinging door and hastened footsteps roused Faulkin from the misery that was swallowing him. He raised his head, just catching Yvaine as she swept past him to lean against a nearby barrel. He stifled a sore groan as he rose to his feet, setting his bottle aside. He took a few steps toward her, careful to allow her some likely needed space after... that.

But when she quieted he drew nearer, and placing a gentle hand on her shoulder he said, "Yvaine, I... am sorry," his voice was tense, "I never expected... I should have never allowed you see this..."

 
She heard the groan and cast a quick sideways glance toward Faulkin as he rose to his feet, her brow furrowing as she dropped her gaze to her hands, slick and scarlet, the colour burning into her mind, still so vivid even in the dark street only dimly lit by a few flickering torches. She cleared her throat and plunged her hands into the barrel's stagnant water as she heard the Captain amble toward her, trying desperately to wash what she could from her hands and face before he reached her, as though trying to spare him the pain of seeing.

The hand on her shoulder had a weight to it like none she'd ever felt. He must have felt such anguish, such distress and worry over his men, over those he was responsible for. And she had been the only thing that might have been able to prevent it from happening. Her knees threatened to buckle under the pressure of the guilt, and yet, he was apologising to her.. She hadn't been able to look at him until then, and the moment he'd said it, she turned her dripping face to look at him with incredulity.

"You have nothing to apologise to me for." her head shook and she studied his face, her own contorted with mute concern and she reached a hand to his stubbled cheek, as though to emphasise her sincerity as she met his gaze. Her hand lingered for only a moment before it fell, and she wrapped her arms around her ribs as though she might be able to comfort herself. "I had plenty of warnings and yet I chose to ignore them. I didn't understand what any of it meant. I still don't.." Her eyes closed as she pulled in a deep breath and let it roll back out in a sigh, her head bowed.

"I'm so sorry Faulkin.." she whispered, her voice threatening to break if she spoke any louder.
 
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His countenance spoke of heartache, and grief. What paltry wounds had been inflicted on his body were nothing next to what plagued his soul. The tension in his eyes betrayed this. As she studied him, he too studied her, and did his best to hide the regret that welled within him. She was battered, thankfully more from the aftermath, but from this she would likely carry scars that could last a lifetime. His thoughts spun through the dreary circumstance of it all, and he wished he had turned her away... gods he wished he had turned her back.

Her touch nearly sparked against him it caught him so abruptly, realizing now she was speaking to him, but not much of what she said made sense to him.

Warnings? What?

He considered that she, like any of them, like all of them, was exhausted, and whether it be his fault or hers there was something here he couldn't quite grasp. It would have to wait.

"I'm so sorry Faulkin.." she whispered...
​
"Please," he nearly breathed, "there is nothing to forgive from you..." this time his hand reached for her cheek, and the other to the side of her arm, and strength returned to his voice, "your courage may well have saved lives tonight... I am thankful."

Yvaine ​
 
Her eyes rose back to his face as she felt the warmth of his hand on her cheek. The emotion in the wind-stirred waves of his eyes was impossibly deep, yet they carried the warmth and life of the sunlit surface. If one were brave enough to enter their depths, all else would blur and they'd fall so deep that they'd choose to stay there, no matter what. Of that, she was completely sure. It was a gaze of a thousand blue hues that Yvaine's shame wouldn't let her hold onto for long, and her own eyes closed as she leaned into the gentle comfort of his palm.

"My courage?.." she laughed under her breath. She'd heard him call his men to battle, she'd watched him rush into the jaws of hell and witnessed the ferocity he'd fought those creatures with. She opened her eyes and managed a soft smile as she looked up at him, leaving the rest unsaid. Yvaine could still conjure that rush of relief she'd felt when he'd arrived in time to stop those beasts from tearing Alwin apart, when she'd realised that he too was still alive, how her hope had been rekindled.

Without another word she threw her arms around him, drawing from the safety and comfort that he invoked, not just in her, but in his men, in their city. None could dare question why he was their Captain. Her head rested on his chest as she just breathed for a moment. It was bold and unbecoming, but she didn't care, right now she needed some form of anchor to keep her sanity where it ought to be.

A throat cleared.. "M-my lady. He's awake." the physician she'd been pestering about Alwin interrupted awkwardly from the doorway and disappeared back inside.
 
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"My courage?.." she laughed under her breath.​

He didn't feel that he'd exaggerated by any means. He'd seen how quick she was to act, how selflessly she did all she could to help those in need around her. Whether she knew it or not these actions spoke far louder than any proclamation. For one of her status to behave in such a way, in Drennantor at least, was rare. More than this she'd acted to help his soldiers, men and women he called family.

As a Captain, he'd come to realize that the failures sometimes needed be thought of after the victories. To be grateful for those you could help. He also felt that the burden of those lost was to weigh on his shoulder, and he strove to do that for the sake of all those who served under him and with him.

If she protested further, he truly didn't know if or how he would argue that...

But when she left it at that and instead met his eyes again, and smiled, Faulkin's expression also softened. The stress and sorrow on his face assuaged, and the corner of his mouth threatened a half smile of his own. It was comforting for him to see even just a glimmer of joy, beautiful however subtle it was. It was a welcome sight to replace the memory of the horrors before.

Then she slipped past any defense he might have still held, and with her arms around him his too wrapped themselves around her. He felt the tension in her body as she pulled in close, and out of instinct his hand rubbed gently against her back. There had been many times he'd wished for the opportunity to just speak to her more closely. That it was this journey, these circumstances that were neccesary to allow that opportunity, mattered little in this...

"Mm-mm..."

...fleeting... moment...

"M-my lady. He's awake."

Faulkin only half turned his head, offering only a little attention before dismissing the interruption - for a moment - after the door closed again. He held Yvaine in his arms a little tighter then, reluctant to leave her too briskly. As much as she drew comfort in him, he too did from her. It was in his blood to defend, to protect, and somehow, in some way he couldn't place, this felt like a more pure act of that than any amount of death he could deal for king and country.

And this, he could hold far more comfortably in his hands.

"Who does he speak of," he finally asked.


Beating. Beating hard, pounding damn near through his chest. His heart felt like it was ready to explode, and his lungs were as fire. He turned and swung his hammer, shattering a gnashing skull just moments before it clamped down on him. Tor had fought hard, and needed only make it a few more meters to get a moments rest. He hoped. He leapt over an assortment of rocks, tumbling down a steep dropoff there. He was caught by benevolent arms and quickly hauled from there - and then they came. Tumbling over the edge as Tor had, monsters of various kinds fell onto spears and swords and axes and arrows, quelling the immediate threat for the moment.

Laid with his back to a tree he breathed hard to regain his breath, and held the canteen he was given until he could afford enough time to drink. The men he'd ran to, nearly two dozen survivors of the attack who he alone bought enough time to rally and retreat. Try as he might, he could save no others, and those who he did had cost him nearly the entirety of his power, and left his chances of withstanding another attack incredibly slim.

And with no malice did he accept this. Only that he saved so few did he regret.

One of the men came close and knelt, "sire, that's all of them for now, but-"

The sounds that rose up in the distance said all that was needed. They needed to move, immediately. Tor struggled to his feet, and gave a wearied nod that he was ready to continue. But he'd made it only a few steps before they came - some of the monsters had quickly closed ground on the survivors and were upon them with a flurry of talons and teeth. With terror blood spilled on the ground, and quickly the survivors were encroached on by more and seemingly doomed to a gruesome fate.

Tor fought bravely, but ultimately his power was far too diminished. He could do no more acts of heroism.

But fate, as it decided, saw not that he or those few remaining would perish yet.

Miraculously, the creatures were struck by blue, arcane lightning. It encircled the survivors and decimated their attackers, reducing the monsters to charred remains. Tor and the others though, were fearful, and slowly they backed into one another, drawing close, raising their arms in defense of whoever or whatever else there now was out there in the dark for them to contend with. As for Tor, he gulped at the display of sheer magical power they'd just bore witness to, and was anxious to uncover the source.

A mixture of relief and uncertainty filled him when a lone figure made themselves known, hooded and robed in hues of blue with a glowing, blue sword in hand.

 
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The embrace lasted longer than she'd expected, not that she'd expected it at all. One moment she'd been stood in front of him, trying and failing to avoid his crystalline gaze, and the next she was here against him and for a few blissful moments, everything else melted away. Despite the heaviness in her stomach, it fluttered as the hands that had so dauntlessly destroyed many foul creatures just hours ago, now so gently caressed her back in effort to succour her distress. She sunk into the warmth of it, appreciative of the simple gesture.

Her eyes opened as the medic spoke and she gave the slightest of nods and a soft sigh in relief at the news, but she didn't move, and her lids closed again as she savoured the respite of this calm place for a little longer. The sonorous tone of his voice rumbled over the sound of his beating heart that her mind had chosen to focus on, and she lifted her pointed ear from his chest to look up, suddenly looking far more fatigued now that she'd allowed her body a short time to relax.

"Alwin.." she answered with a lazy smile in her voice. "Would you like to see him?.." she asked and cleared the grittiness from her voice as she finally let go and took a half step back, turning toward the door.

Something, she didn't know what, made her pause and turn to look over the dark tree line on the outskirts of the town, the direction they'd come, and her gaze scanned the shadowy woods, hoping to see more of Faulkin's men catch up. Hoping to see Tor. But there was no movement, no sound, no sign of life. And yet there was something in the back of her mind, some warm glimmer of hope, trapped like crystals in stone that had to be chipped away at.

She sighed and looked to Faulkin, offering mute reassurance in the form of a smile before she turned away and stepped back inside.
 
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Alwin.

He was awake, and that was a good sign. Faulkin feared that he had arrived too late - Alwin's injuries had been certainly life threatening. There was no doubt that Yvaine's haste in getting him to the sanctuary of this healer's home had been imperative. So with the news a small sigh escaped him, and his arms gave way for her to step away and fell to his sides as his shoulders loosened with a little more relief.

"Yes..." he said, turning his head to look out into the dark as she did. He didn't know what made her turn, but when she displayed no distress he resigned that there was at least no danger. He fled from any curiosity for Tor and the others, deep down fearing the worst.

He fought back the gloss that grew over his eyes, and when he turned to her again they shimmered like afternoon sun cast over a gentle tide. He nodded, and wiped his eye as he followed her inside.


It was quieter now. And a solemn quiet it was.

Many who could be helped had been, and many who were doomed to pass... passed.

There were casualties laid almost everwhere, with narrow paths in even the hallways to step through, and an unfortunate number of hidden faces among them. Faulkin acknowledged everyone he could, but many were now, thankfully, asleep. Up the stairs to the second floor was where they found Alwin, who laid quietly in the farthest corner with at least a few blankets and a pillow. There were others in the room, the odd moaning and groaning, but they were being tended.

Alwin slowly and painfully turned his head to address them, doing his best to smile, "hey..." his voice was slow and quiet, "good to see you, capt'n. Any word from the big guy...?"

Faulkin shook his head, "not yet."

Alwin had been bitten and torn near the neck, had several broken ribs and a broken arm. But from what the doctors said, so long as they could catch any infection, he would recover in due time.

Alwin smiled at Yvaine, vaguely remembering their journey here, "thank you," he whispered.

 
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Death wasn't kind. Yvaine knew that. It snatched where it could, taking people who were far too young, far too good. It didn't pretend to care, it didn't pretend to distinguish.

As she led him to where Alwin was resting, her glassy gaze drifted from face to face, and a chill rode her spine as she realised that she’d already seen this moment. Her chest tightened and she felt her face pale as she stepped over another body.

Yvaine's heart leapt to see Alwin awake, to see the ghost of a smile on his lips, to hear his voice. He'd been trying to save her from exactly the fate that had befallen him in her stead, and it would have weighed heavily on her heart had he not made it. Her golden eyes looked over him as she knelt down by his side, misty with tears that she managed to call back just in time.

Yvaine reached out and her slender fingers squeezed gently at his upper arm as he whispered his thanks, her eyes narrowing as the warmth of her smile reached them. “It’s me that should be thanking you. Both of you.” She sighed and looked around.. “All of you.” she added solemnly and her smile slowly faltered.

She reached to the basin she’d been washing his face with earlier and wrung out the cloth, the water was a deep pink with blood, but it was cool all the same. She dabbed it against his brow and turned to look over her shoulder, calling for a young nurse named Mari who bought a fresh cup of water. Yvaine took it and let him drink.

“Tor will be alright...” Yvaine nodded, her voice quietly confident.. “I’ll leave you both to get some rest..” she sighed, and reached to take each of their hands in hers to squeeze every ounce of gratitude she felt into them before pulling herself to her feet and turning away to see what else she could help with.
 
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“Tor will be alright...”​

Hearing her say the words made it seem more real, more true. She believed the them, and he believed her. He nodded a silent farewell to her, lifting his gaze to follow her as she stood and left. He gave a gentle shake of his head, unable to believe that she was still determined to help, in spite of the exhaustion pressing down on her. He turned his head down to Alwin, who had what Faulkin could only assume was his best attempt at a shit-eating grin. Faulkin's face grew flush, and then after feigning a swat to his friend's arm, gave his shoulder a gentle pat instead, chuckling.

His eyes cast down, and then he said, "I was afraid I'd lose you, brother."

"I'll be the one burying you, Faulkin. Don't you worry about that..."

It was hard to take him seriously for all the struggle in his voice. It was raspy and weak, but the words themselves spoke of Alwin's strength. He was a stubborn one, that Faulkin would never deny. He just hoped that he was right, and that he would be gone long before death ever knocked on Alwin's door. That his stubbornness would remain his friend.

He gave his shoulder one final reassuring pat, saying, "get some rest," and then climbed to his feet and made his way out of the room.


Morning in Milvahn was quiet, and peaceful. It wasn't long after the sound of birdsong filled the air that the first few townsfolk started to stir. The envoy's arrival in the night had caused a fuss, but it certainly seemed to do little to interrupt the routine of this place. Goods were set out, shop doors were opened, and soon enough townsfolk dotted the streets. They were a humble sort, but distinguished all the same, proud of how well they managed without the support of greater realms such as Drennantor or Alliria.

Faulkin's eyes cracked open at some point around dawn, but he'd not gotten near as much sleep as he needed. But, he could rest no longer. He'd had trouble all night, and was tired of forcing himself to lay there for bits and pieces of odd dreams. He clambered out of one of their wagons, rubbing his eye with a palm as he adjusted himself to the light. He reached back inside to grab a shirt, and he threw the wrinkled thing on with little care for how it sat, crooked and wrinkled. He made his way around to the front of their line, and there a few of the men were gathered.

There was no sign of Tor.

His lip curled, and he approached.

"Cap'n," the men uttered, nodding their heads low.

"How are we looking?"

"Not good sir..." the man reported their losses, which were heavy, leaving only fifteen able bodies - but luckily the delegates were all accounted for.

"Fifteen..." Faulkin echoed under his breath, clenching his fist.

As well, they'd lost several of their supply wagons. Though their demand had shrank considerably, so too had their resources. They would not make it much farther past the next checkpoint without restocking - and they had little money to spend. Faulkin thanked him for his assessment, and dismissed them all to go and get some rest. They weren't going anywhere today, that was for sure.

He stepped out into the street, and cast a long look down one way, and then the other.


They were quiet. Dead quiet. None of them had been prepared for what they'd heard, what they'd been shown. It was unlike any nightmare any of them had ever dared to dream, unlike any story they'd ever heard. A curse... a curse from the very shadow itself, from the darkest reaches of the evilest heart. And it had come.

Tor couldn't sleep, not after the visions he'd been shared. The stranger who had come to their aid proved to be a friend, and after settling in a safe place for the night, shared with them what he knew. He used powers of the mind that Tor had only heard of, and showed them where he'd came from, what had happened, and what now threatened them all. Tor could hardly imagine living through the things he described and shared and maintaining the strength to fight on, and he admired it. He admired this new companion, as he imagined he would if he'd ever met one of his kind.

"Those things..." he uttered, "used to be..?"

"Yes."

"..but why were the beings you showed us, in the city... what were they?"

"The curse... it afflicts us all differently..."

"Then what you showed me... those were... elves?"

"Yes, those were my people."

"...what does it do to humans...?"

"...I'm afraid, my friend... you will see."

Yvaine ​
 
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"My girl if you don't get some rest I shall be forced to sedate you myself.." the older man spoke from the doorway as Yvaine helped a fever-stricken merchant drink, one hand cradling his head as the other tipped the cup carefully against his pale lips. She'd felt her eyes grow heavier, and there was little she could do to offer her assurances that she didn't need to rest when everything about her betrayed her otherwise. The physician, Silas, smiled warmly at her in contrast to the rictus of rage that his face had worn when she'd demanded that he allow her to help in the first place. "You've done more than enough. You defeat the purpose of our work if you drop dead of exhaustion..Come now."

She fell into a large, wooden rocking chair out on the porch, her drifting gaze on the shadowy tree-line with the determination of staying awake, of waiting on the first sign of Tor and the others so that she might alert the medics of more wounded to be tended. She wasn't sure how long her battle against sleep lasted, but it wasn't long, and she fell into the memory in the forest, and then into another that wasn't her own. Her bare feet, black with ash, carried her across a barren wasteland of smouldering earth and charred bones. Whispers tickled at the back of her mind and sent chills across her spine as she let her gaze wander slowly across the dark planes. Her eyes slowly rose to the towering ruins in the distance, and to the shaft of light that pillared so far into the dark clouds above that she wasn't sure if it came from the heavens or the earth.

She took another step forward before the ground cracked open, and Yvaine fell into darkness. Golden eyes snapped open and her body jolted itself awake as one last whisper echoed in her ears. "Evie." Yvaine sat up, feeling the letter 'M' form on her lips as she only just resisted the urge to call out for her mother before realising that her mother was not here. She was not anywhere. A breath escaped as she pressed herself back into the chair and let her muscles relax and her mind wake properly. Someone had bundled her in blankets, and Juniper had curled up in her lap, though she was now staring at her in disgruntlement.

"Sorry Juni.." she mumbled at her, her voice husky from sleep. The fox forgave her quickly and curled up again, her head pressing into Yvaine's palm to allow her to seek further forgiveness, and she obliged by running her fingertips through the soft, orange fur between her ears.

The sound of Faulkin's footsteps caused her gaze to rise from the fluffy bundle and she sighed quietly, watching him for a moment. He'd lost many men, of that she was well aware, and her heart was still heavy with self inflicted blame, but it found room for the pity that the Captain had unintentionally summoned.

She searched her mind for words. There was little point in asking if there had been any word, she knew there hadn't. She wouldn't ask if he was alright only to give him the need to lie and offer her reassurance, nor would she offer any more of her own for she didn't see the use in it.

"Morning..." .. How pathetic.
 
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It was never quite the same. Many souls had perished under his order many times before, and while there was a part of him that was - at this point - always familiar, another was always stricken in shock. As he stared down the long road he felt this, unable, for a moment, to believe what had happened. But the strength of his heart ferried such guilt away, and he was reminded of a truth. To die in defense of your comrades, family and friends, above this there was no greater honour.

"Morning..."

The sound of her voice made his chin raise high, and he turned to see her. At first it was forced, but the smile on his face turned genuine, "good morning," he replied.

His eyes nervously cast down before he started toward her, watching his first few steps. He climbed up the porch stairs and then sat down there at their top, putting his back to the post and facing Yvaine. He ran his palm over his face.

"I don't expect we'll be going anywhere today," he said looking out, "too few of us have had any rest, and..." he hesitated, and then faced her with resignation in his eye, but iterated his hope anyway, "...hopefully Tor will be along now..."

 
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Yvaine mirrored his smile, as solemn as it was, and sat up a little to let her toe touch the splintered floor and rock herself idly back and forward in soft and slow sways that caused the wood to creak quietly. Her lips pressed thinly as she watched him amble onto the porch and sit, trying her best not to look at him with the pain she felt for his plight. There was much to discuss and even more to question but she thought it best to keep any words about what they'd seen and what he'd faced to herself at least until Tor was back. If he came back. She wasn't sure why she'd been so firm in her belief that he would, whether it had been that he hadn't been a dead face in her mind, or whether it was simply a foolish hope, she didn't know, but the more time passed, the thinner that belief was becoming.

"Yes, of course.." she answered and let her gaze fall to the small vixen in her lap, her voice betraying the sinking feeling in her stomach as Faulkin told her they'd be staying for another day at least. It was another day that her uncle had to catch up to her, and there was little doubt in her mind that he'd have sent some of the home guard in their tracks to collect her and return her home. She was certain they'd find her here, and she'd simply have to accept that she would never make it to Elbion in that case, but far worse fates had befallen Faulkin's men and numerous others who'd lost their lives, and the families who'd never see them return. She wasn't about to complain about her own fate after everything that had happened, as much as it pained her.

Juniper stood and hopped down onto the porch to stretch, and she cautiously padded closer to the captain, her steps slowing the closer she got and her neck stretching as her little nose twitched, pulling at his scent curiously. She stared up at him, her ears pressed flat to her head as she edged closer. Yvaine smiled as she watched, and continued to rock herself into some state of ease for a while longer.

"Perhaps we should go back and search..They might've, lost their way." she frowned, her gaze drifting back toward the forest.
 
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