Knights of Anathaeum Kingfisher's Cry

[Isander]

Early Spring, 373
Valen Wilds, 3 Days from the Tree​

The mottled gray of falling dusk cleft Isander's brow in shadows. It suited his mood. That dark cast made mirror of him, for he had come on business bleak as it was cold. Poachers this side of the Spine, spilling the blood of babes and disturbing the balance of the Loch. Dark thoughts indeed filled the Knight.

He knew not whence these men came, and nor did he care. Action had signed the warrants for their deaths, and Isander would see his hands tie the noose. Hunters for sport, profiteers who found arousal in cruelty, these were the folk he came to kill. Were it that they were found deserving of mercy, but the Knight had none to spare.

Spring unfurled around him, in verdant buds that plumped branches of the sparsely populated wood. The year's first melt drew nearby tributaries to babble. Running water, the hum of incessant wingbeat, a nattering of movement that beckoned from noise to near indistinguishable cacophony all filled his ears, steered him from blanking his mind. It offered him solace with which to comport himself, to relax the alert edge that afflicted his gaze.

He rode in silence, unbowed by the accoutrements of murder. Gauntleted hands held the reign loose, and his coat of maille and cloth sat slack upon him. His spear, butt couched in a stirrup and haft resting in the crook of an elbow, stood ready for use but unthreatening. Sweat had begun caking his neck and back, spots of color dampening his collar. Even this early in the season he felt the effects of a maddening sun; it roused warmth in him, quite in contrast to the heavy chill that seemed to stride atop the cresting eve.

Raising a hand, he bade his mount ease into a stop and cast his eyes to the map that sat astride his lap. The knoll to his left, ringed in weather smoothed stones and patches of mushrooms, could be twin to its visage christened "Erebit's Rest" on his map, right down to a log-bench that spoke of a civilized touch.

To his companions he said, "All reports agree that this group operates from these grounds. Sightings put them roughly here"—he held the map, gesturing with a thumb for their perusal—"and with the day running long as it is, I see we have two options: we wait for full dark to espy their fires, or we press on in search of tracks to come upon them while light yet remains in the sky."

 

[Alouette]

Alouette was no stranger to poachers, even if the thought of them made her stomach twist and turn. Her kin had traditions when it came to the flora and fauna, and these beliefs were woven into her, physically and mentally. She had no appetite as they came closer to their destination, settling into mild reservation until spoken to. Her mind matched the sky above as she considered what was to come.

She was not a fighter, at least not yet. Equipped only with a citrine wand that looked more like a arrow than a way to help channel her magic, Alouette had to wonder if it was wise for her to even assist in a sensitive matter such as this. The only thing that was capable of drawing blood was her small pocket knife that was better at cutting apples than cutting through humans.

Her spring green eyes stared at the back of Syr Isander’s blonde head as he spoke. She could hear him, even if she was behind him so his voice was muffled. Her stomach dropped, understanding that they were now at their destination, that action would need to take place. Lou didn’t feel prepared for it in the slightest, and felt any suggestion that came from her lips to be silly even if Syr Isander had neatly laid out the two choices before her. All she had to do was choose and yet even that felt like a task too great.

Fidgeting in her saddle, she felt the trusty mare lent to her grow uneasy with her. She felt bad for adding her anxiety, as well as her weight, onto Marigold. The black hoof stopped pawing at the ground as Alouette directed her attention elsewhere, looking up to the sky, wishing to see a bird in flight so she knew good graces would be with them.

 

[Josai]

"Night time," Josai said simply. "By the moon's light, would be my vote,"

Dusker that she was, she had a preference to those hours shrouded in darkness. Those hours where most mortal eyes struggled to see.

But she was no such being. Aided by Loch and Wyld, heeder of death, caller of life. She was a knight of Anatheaum.

"It will be easier for us to happen upon them unawares," she said with a nod from beneath her wide brim hat. Sat high upon the saddle of her beast. Snoot. Her spear rest at the ready against her shoulder, the three charms tied about the base of its head, swayed gently in the air, as the long necked lizard tread low to the ground.

"But," she added. "We have the means to give pursuit by day," she said with a grin, and pat her great beast proudly, just above the saddle horn as it flicked its tongue about the air. "If we feel too afraid of the dark," she winked at Isander in turn.

 

[Nacht]

Nacht was unsure why anyone would want to kill an animal, even for lots of money. Animals were cute little things that deserved peace and to remain adorable from a distance, like how one might see a dog and not run to pet it. Well, perhaps he was the exception to the rule in that respect, for the joy he felt looking at fluffy animals was far more than enough to make him want to say hi.

That got him thinking about kittens and then he smacked the side of his head in a way to refocus. Basically, the point was that he really wanted to bring these poachers to justice however possible. Like all raids on an enemy encampment, that effort first required a plan. Syr Josai advocated for tracking by dark, which had its merits, surely: The poachers would likely be grouped and also in less visible conditions.

Nacht had always been able to see abnormally well in the dark as a part of his magic, so he would be at home as well. However, what of the others? “Well, I can function similarly in the physical sense whether it’s day or night, but my abilities would better be suited for a night raid.” He offered, thinking about what abilities he had. Yes, most likely he would be of the greatest use as a stealthy combatant.

“Alouette, Syr Isander, any thoughts?” he asked politely, waiting for a response.

Josai Alouette Isander

 

[Isander]

Their merry few: a pair of knights in asynchronous pursuit, squires paired yet green about the collar to stand in defiance of uncertain odds. The scouting reports and farmer's gossip colluded little in the way of solid fact. Perhaps a dozen of the brigands roamed hereabouts, no more than thirty.

Isander flicked a glance to the dusk drawn knight and offered a nod. Some boyish remorse of his decried the notion of sneaking upon their prey under the guise of night. Honor served the righteous, he had to remind himself. The cowardly abused such grace. They skulked within the bounds of reason in full ken of the common folk's hesitation to extract retribution of their own volition, even here so deep in the heartlands of the Wyld.

Isander could afford no such hesitation. It was but a job that needed doing. A senseless one to be sure, one that promised to test what taste the knight had for spilling unblighted blood. That settled it.

"Dismount," Isander called, making example of himself in turn. In his brush to the forest floor, his boots cracked hard against compact dirt and half-budded weed. He wrapped the reigns loose around his wrist, keeping his spear close to shoulder while using its butt to brace against his step as he approached the moss-bitten knoll.

"We dine cold this eve," he said, squinting through the canopy at the near setting sun. Drawing a set of stakes from his saddlebags, he began to hammer in a crude post for their mounts.

"Squires Alouette, Nacht, distribute the rations once you've hitched your mounts. At dusk, we'll ring the area in pairs to scout the poacher's likely camp. Once we've a solid estimate of their numbers, with luck we might isolate some before falling upon them in full. Until then, we eat and enjoy what company the day yet provides."


Alouette Josai Nacht

 

[Alouette]

Alouette did have thoughts but she didn’t share them with Nacht. Much too unsure, she remained tight lipped and once again tried to avert her gaze in a place that would make her go unnoticed. Syr Isander wouldn’t forget about her, especially when tasks needed to be divided. She did find much more comfort in being paired with Nacht, someone who was at the start of a same journey.

The kinship was small but needed. The instructions were short but also needed for the nervousness that addled Lou’s mind would have her forget about eating. She could hear her stomach growl, quiet and soft, like her feet hitting the ground as she led Marigold gently to a nearby tree. She tied the reins around a branch, patting the broad, strong neck before stroking down the long face.

When the squire turned to Nacht she tried to hide the lingering frown. While he had voiced feeling more comfortable to raid the group of poachers at night, Alouette almost wished he had said otherwise. It didn’t quite occur to her that she should have spoken up herself, still so timid in heart and mind.

“Do you have any more raisins?” Alouette asked the other squire, forcing a little smile that didn’t match her eyes. “I got nervous and ate all of mine. I’m worried they might be upset at me for my selfishness.” Her people would have, coveting food was greedy, especially when everything from the forest should be shared.

Josai Nacht Isander

 

[Josai]

To hear the squires go on was... something.

What exactly, Josai could not quite make out just yet. But Snoot had come to a stop all the same, and the silver bell about her spear chimed with the still of their march.

Off from the saddle, her boots thumped against the earth, and her blue robes fluttered about her. Fell to with the weight of cloth, and her hand caught down the blue cap affixed her crown. A quick adjustment, and her fingers fixed back the rogue curls that covered her eye.

"Camp should be quick work," she said, not bothering with Snoot, who's tongue flicked the air, and wide eyes scanned the world about them.

She set herself to make the camp. Unload her saddle. Station her medicant's inventory. Make ready the grounds. It wasn't too long before the leaf litters were being set upon the ground.

Day or night. Rest would be needed before they set to motion.

Nacht Isander Alouette

 

[Nacht]

“Yes Syr!” Nacht said, following the knight’s demonstration and landing on the ground himself with a satisfying crunch as the dead leaves of the season gave way under the weight of his boots. Quickly helping his black pony into the shade so it wouldn’t overheat, he would search for his fellow squire and finally spot them also finding a place to let their mount rest.

Shouldering out of the straps of his pack, he took the whole bag in one hand and neared Alouette, trying to figure out what he could about her as he made his way closer. She seemed nervous and shy, something he found himself able to relate to. “Pardon-“

Surprisingly, a frown stopped him in his tracks and actually made him nervous, mentally cataloguing what he had done in the past that might have upset his potential friend. In the end, though, he came up with nothing, which in very characteristic fashion became the formation for a desire to keep this interaction from seemingly souring even further.

The question he then got asked was one he least expected: A request for raisins. In response, the boy could do nothing but blink a couple of times and then laugh. It was a genuine laugh, not mocking in the slightest, but he quickly cut it out in case offense would be taken. “Yeah, sure. No problem there. Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh, your ask just surprised me. Uh, I’m Nacht.” He offered, opening his bag and finding the little bag marked “R”.

“Here. I get being nervous, nothing to be ashamed of. In fact, I’m a tad worried about how my performance will be viewed by Syrs Isander and Josai.” He said with a little chuckle and grin.“What’s your name, Miss? Shoulda probably asked that first.”

Finally remembering that something called a question existed, he had decided that despite already knowing his compatriot’s name, he would ask anyway.

Alouette
Josai
Isander

 

[Isander]

The grim nature of their work set firm Isander's jaw, tension worming over shoulders, knotting a stiff worry in the small of his back. He caught himself counting the minutes, the toll of waiting thick upon him. It lent hesitancy to his speech. Often did he find himself on the verge of conversation, words tripping into silence at the tip of his tongue. Hours yet forestalled the shroud of dusk, promising time to sup and prepare for the murder they sought.

Easing his shoulders, he took a slow, steadying breath. With lean motions, he fashioned his tent. An amalgam of sticks and worked leather, its makeshift cover set over a bed of brushed leaves and padded dirt, the fabric wended neatly through the grove, camouflaged from casual survey. It took little in the way of effort, yet a sheen of sweat slicked his brow as he began to move away. He rubbed at it, dirtying the tunic overlaying his maille, picked for words he wished to say.

"Syr Josai," he said, settling on a topic. "I would hear your opinion on the task set before us. Perhaps it is not my lot to question, but I find myself thinking on the pallid hate I feel for this particular job. Have you any hangups before we set knife to throat?"


Alouette Josai Nacht

 

[Josai]

Josai sat atop her medicine box. Eyes distant as the day's light waned about them. Nestled in the fabrics of her scarf, and shaded neath the brim of her hat, she seemed unto a world all her own. The bright head of her spear, like a star above her.

"So quick to call for the knife," she said, voice soft and measured her eyes not upon him. "Tell me, what do you know of these, throats, you so eagerly wish to run open?"

Isander

 

[Alouette]

"Alouette." The squire responded, glancing from Nacht's earnest face to her boots and then back to the earnestness again. "You can call me Lou. Everyone does." After a few beats from her heart, she stuck out a hand to the other squire. She didn't tell him she knew his name already, trying to keep the hurt from her eyes that hers hadn't been remembered. She could tell he hadn't meant it if he gave her some of his raisins to hide her selfishness.

Nacht was a good person if he shared. Being forgetful didn't make someone bad. With these small truths settling into her heart and soul, Lou smiled warmly and shyly when he would give that introductory shake everyone seemed fond of doing outside her village.

"Thank you." She would dutifully set about the task assigned to them as if she hadn't snuck every raisin from her pouch into her mouth a few hours earlier. The gold scars around her forearm would glimmer in the setting sun until the shadows grew long and wide. "Do you think we will be judged for today? Are they stern teachers?" Lou turned to look over her shoulder, lowering her voice even more. "I didn't want to come, but I thought Syr Isander looked homely, like my uncle, and Syr Josai had a kind face." She gestured to the side of her eyes, still smooth from youth. "Because her eyes wrinkle a lot when she smiles."

Nacht Isander Josai

 

[Nacht]

Suddenly, a thought struck him as he was about to respond. He had ADDRESSED HER BY NAME LIKE FIVE MINUTES AGO! Why the heck had he gone with the "What's your name" opener?! "Sorry, I dunno how I forgot your name. That was my bad, Miss Lou!" he grimaced, sighing at how incredibly odd he was seemingly all the time. "Moving past that, it's nice to meet you. I mean, the Syrs are great and all, but having a fellow squire along is...a relief," he admitted with a sigh.

At his new friend's gratitude, he would grin and peek at his bag which still had all the other rations left, making him even more sure there was no issues. “Oh, No problem! I, uh, have enough to eat anyways.” He said, looking down at his slightly frail frame and feeling ever the more confident that he would not need the sugar inside the raisins to keep his body moving throughout the time of the mission.

At his fellow squire's question, he would look thoughtful, as if the possibility had not quite crossed his mind. "I think it's likely we'll be judged on the basics and such, but nothing important besides making a good first impression. They'd likely both know how new we are to this." he proposed, shrugging. Both Josai and Isander seemed like serious individuals with important responsibilities, and pretty much all the Sworn he had met up to this point were stern and strict.

It was likely because of experience at exactly how dangerous being a knight could get. "They need to be a bit stern for our sakes, I bet. Just do your best, though, and everything should be fine. Can't imagine they would take us on any mission where we'd only get in the way." he proposed, secretly worried his mind would go blank and it would be just like his first day with those wolves. Luckily, he got to take his mind off such things when Lou noted their knightly compatriots' friendly features.

"Ha! You think so? Isander does seem to have a certain austerity to him, I agree!" he said with a laugh, looking over to the two knights chatting and wondering what sort of amazing plan they were concocting out of earshot.

Isander
Josai
Alouette

 

[Isander]

In the cackled breath of last light, Isander mulled over the duskling's retort. He exerted effort into flattening a fur tarp over the shelter's floor, brushing it until his knuckles found no hint of rock beneath to disturb their promised repose. The motion, slow and repetitive, sharpened his perspective, let him focus on the thoughts the skittered about in fear from his dominion.

Indeed, the longer he spent on it the clearer it came that he was avoiding such matters; the grim nature of the work, the icy knowing that they sought to enact murder upon another—it crashed to a halt against the easy question of guilt. It befouled his mouth, and he puckered his lips in kind, any such pleasures leeched from him.

Keeping his voice low, he chanced a glance towards the Squires to ensure some measure of privacy upon them. They deserved no piece of his burden.

"They're poachers," he said, "murderers and thieves one and all. Their quarry played no willing party to the torture with which they were greeted. Cockatrices, surely our duty extends to the preservation and indeed the protection of such wonderous creatures."


Alouette Josai Nacht

 

[Alouette]

"Austerity?" Lou echoed, eyebrows furrowing. "What does that mean?" It sounded like a word that Lumina or Ulrika would know. She looked back at the Sworn, trying to decipher why Syr Isander had a certain austerity but not Syr Josai. "Oh!" She said, eyes alight with an answer. "You mean that Syr Isander is handsome!" She giggled. "You would like my uncle. He is older, but everyone in my village said he had the nicest hair. It was good for dying many different colors."

Nacht

 

[Nacht]

“I don’t quite mean handsome, though he is certainly that too, but grounded and rugged, simple and straightforward in a good way.” He explained, looking a little embarrassed. What was he trying to do, throw out big words and hope they impressed somebody? “Elder fellows are amazing, I agree with that much! The librarian at my old village got me into reading fables and such.” He explained excitedly, glad things were going well.

“The Knights were one such tale, which is why…” He paused for a second, voice becoming slightly dreamy. “Which is why all of this feels kind of magical to me, I guess.” He admitted.

Josai
Isander
Alouette

 

[Josai]

Josai did not let her judgement on the matter show across the surface of her gaze. Did not let her feelings twist the curl of her lips, or wrinkle the plane of her brow.

"There is no doubt in the wonder of the Wylds, Syr Isander," she said coolly. "But what brings a person to become such a thing?" she asked, as the sky continued its slow descent into the night. "A poacher," she bowed her head. "A killer, and a thief," she had been a thief once. A killer too.

The wind stirred through the leaves. The silver bell at the end of her spear chimed, clear and bright as the starlight above them.

"Remember," she said as she looked to the man. "We are Knights Sworn," her head keeled toward the Squires. "Our oaths are to the Wylds and the People, in equal measure,"

Isander

 

[Isander]

That frown, a fixture over Isander's lips, answered the crystal chime.

He squinted, forced to raise a hand to shield his brow from the setting sun; its yolk streaked crimson over the horizon, violescent in its steady descent. Already the long shadow of the Spine crooked across the Wylds, desiccated the vitality from the land. Stained it gray with the waning day.

Steeling himself, he righted a glance to the Knight and let a response filter forth: "Pursuant to our Oaths," he said, voice a tenor to match the witch's chime, "we abstain from passing immediate judgment upon these thieves."

Flicking a survey over the camp, he nodded.

"Squires Alouette, Nacht," he said, allaying a twitch that began to creep upon his lips, "twilight approaches and we've yet to sup. Join us. I'd hear your thoughts on our current course. And Syr Josai, thank you. This ride drew out a long tension in me, deeper perhaps than I'd realized."


Alouette Nacht Josai

 

[Alouette]

Her eyes widened. Did austerity mean grounded and rugged, simple and straightforward? She nodded as if she knew precisely what Nacht was saying. She'd leave the big words to him and Ulrika. They were the readers, and it only made sense to Lou that readers would be able to take many words and turn them into one. Before she could say more, with their task finished, Syr Isander called the squires back to the conversation.

Lou's mood dampened as she walked towards the Knight Sworn. She reminded herself that this meant they could eat, and the thought of food had her stomach growling. She remained quiet, gaze downcast, shoulders slouching over in an attempt to be smaller than she was from the embarrassment of being hungry despite snacking more than anyone else.

Nacht Josai Isander

 

[Nacht]

Upon being asked his opinion, Nacht quickly began to analyze exactly what was going on. It seemed pretty likely that as long as he didn’t say anything stupid, his opinion would be taken into account. That was really stressful. “Well, surely we don’t have to kill them, r-right? That’s, uh, not…very knightly, I wouldn’t think. Er, not to act like some holier-than-thou person, of course.” He explained, feeling that his take wasn’t quite right somehow.

“I don’t think it should be too hard to simply restrain them. We're not fighting monsters, just, um, slightly stupid people." he said with a shrug, truly unaware that to some people, myths were nothing to worry about. Fairytales, in fact. His stomach grumbled a little and he briefly tinged red, deciding that the best course of action was to change the subject as a distraction of sorts. “Er, Syr Isander?” He asked, a little worried his nosiness was out of line

“You appeared to be having a rather intense conversation with Syr Josai, from what I could see. Is there a problem?”

Josai
Isander
Alouette

 

[Alouette]

“I cannot kill another!”

It was so sudden it even surprised Alouette herself. She felt the tremble in her muscles, the way her stomach fell to the floor, perspiration on her upper lip. She was shaking as she said this, resolve only able to steel her face, to turn her ironclad where it mattered most.

“It is wrong.” Her voice was not meek. All the strength she had in her body had decided to not let her voice waver. “I do not believe in spilling blood, no matter how just it might seem.” Her hands couldn’t be still, even if she wished it, but when Alouette gazed at her quaking fingers, she only became more resolute. “I will not kill another.”

Isander Josai Nacht

 

[Josai]

A cold sharpness in Josai's eyes fixed onto Aloutte, as her spear's shaft knocked soft against the white oak of her medicine box.

The black sphere of obsidian, tied with its purple string, swayed heavy beneath the shaft of the spear's red cedar shaft, whilst Josai's hands busied with the the top left most drawer of the box.

"So sweet a child of spring," she said without a thought. Tilt her gaze fell back toward the small burlap pouch in her hands, worked loose the hempen string, just so. "May the cold winter never burn those buds of hope, clung tender to your branches" she offered the sack to the squire, Aloutte.

Inside the confines, a bounty of roasted acorns. The buttery flesh of the shelled nut, sparkled with precious salt and sugar from their monastery.

Isander Alouette Nacht

 

[Isander]

Incredulity shot over Isander's countenance writhing from lips to brow in waves as his gaze pivoted between the squires. Their words chirped in the hollows of his patience, and he had to remind himself to soften the edges about his tone before forming a reply.

In doing so, he kept his voice quiet, near tremulous in the comparison: "You would reprimand them, then?" he asked of Squire Nacht. "Strong words reproving of their actions? What then? Should you trust the word of those who abuse young animals? How many more must they harm before you would see harm brought to them?"

He shook his head.

"Perhaps you'd maim them. Cripple them? Leave them as prey for the very creatures they hunted? You could pretend your hands are clean in that case. You might even allow yourself to believe it," he said, syllables a whetstone on the blade he sought so unsuccessfully to temper.

"Know this: should I decide to judge murder a suitable punishment for these poachers, you will be accessory to my crime."


Alouette Nacht Josai

 

[Nacht]

“I would have no words for those who take without remorse. No reprimand, Syr Isander. I am well aware that fairytales do not mirror life, as words are not quite so effective on real criminals.” He explained, a little bit annoyed. “I am not naive, and I would hope you don’t mistake my unwillingness to take a life for softness or fear.”

“As for maiming or crippling, how could one be so stupid as to perform an act that in the context of the situation is most definitely murder and consider their hands clean of blood? The logic used in such a feat would surely fail under any measure of the law.” He continued, tone more normal now.

“You, of course, are free to do what you want, Syr, but I am of the opinion that they deserve a chance at redirection…this time.” He added, trying to make it very clear he held no sympathy towards the poachers, but instead hope that things could be possibly different with some “physical encouragement”.

Isander
Josai
Alouette

 

[Alouette]

Brown brows shot up, hidden by hair that needed to be cut again. Alouette had expected a rebuke, much like Syr Isander had just done. She regarded Syr Josai and her offering much like a wounded animal shied from a human that was unhindered. Her eyes darted back to Nacht, looking for help but he had decided to engage Syr Isander in a conversation of logic and morality.

What Syr Isander said stumped Lou, not enough to make her resolve falter, but a seed of dislike had been sowed in her art. He was not like her Uncle at all. She had a feeling that the blonde Knight was willing to kill rats if they made his life troublesome. Most humans did as long as they called them pests.

A growl from her stomach brought Lou’s attention back to Syr Josai and her roasted nuts. Her mouth watered as she finally got a good whiff of the salt and sugar. She reached out to grab an acorn but paused, looking up through her dark lashes.

“Winter always comes.” She murmured. “You can’t have one without the other.” Even though winter was hard, and Lou never quite got used to seeing the bodies pile up and kept cold until spring when it was easier to dig a grave, she knew it was needed. The flow of life was not something her village disturbed. By the teachings of Tsoai-talee, they were not allowed. Her brows furrowed. But Tsoai-talee had saved her from the bear despite the stories passed down from mother to daughter.

“I don’t think the poachers are evil, I think they’re hungry. People are always hungry.” Another growl and Lou went to take an acorn on top. “Thank you.”

Josai Isander Nacht

 

[Josai]

Josai's eyes softened, and she nod her welcome to Alouette. Her hand bobbed and she offered more of the snacks to the youth. A silent, don't be shy.

"Indeed they are," she said softly, as the clear ring of her silver bell chimed gentle with the wind. "Oft the mind far removed from the toil and pain of life, forgets such simple truths," she smiled a secret smile to Alouette, who listened twice as much as she spoke. But Josai's smile was gone doubl quick. "That same mind lost in it's own webs, thinks it's own lies govern the world around it,"

The cold of ice hung deep in the dark of the Dusker's gaze. Her mind turning over the words the others spat so sure in their own light.

"Those lies hold as much sway with the wind, as they do the mountain lion," She pressed the bag of acorns into the squires hand. "But it is best to eat now, while there is still food to eat, and hunger to remind us we still live,"

Josai went back to tending her box of white oak. A drawer pulled open with vials and pouches of agents and regents.

Again, the obsidian stone knocked against her spear's cedar shaft.

A portent of what so often came across a Knight's path.

Alouette Isander Nacht