Private Tales Petty Lords and Pettier Problems

[Dejan Damir]

"Focus, Squire Innis," Dejan repeated, not for the first time that morning. Six days it had been since the duo had set off from the monastery, their home. Dejan was keen to make sure that the days would not go to waste. Training, study, and more training was a part of every knight's duty; whether they were at Astenvale or not. The knight pursuant had never deviated from such a philosophy, not even after losing an arm. He would see to it that his current charge would not experience the same fate. There was no telling what would await the two when they arrived at their destination.

Dejan's sword casually rested against his shoulder as he studied the squire. Each morning of their travel, the knight had focused on swordsmanship. It was clear that her talents lay elsewhere but Dejan had been insistent. He did not expect the squire to become a master with the blade in their short trip, or even ever for that matter. Experience. Experience was ever the best of teachers. The body will react on its own if it has seen enough. This was his purpose, harsh though it may have seemed.

"On second thought," he said after a few moments of consideration, "Let us stop here."

He stretched for a moment before swinging his sword behind him and letting it rest in its sheathe.

"We should reach Baron Estefall's territory by midday. You'll need your wits about you."

There had been an ongoing dispute between the baron and those within his territory, a number of merchants to be precise. Taxes might as well be demons for most folk and that went double for purveyors. Apparently the merchants had become so agitated that they had taken to hiring mercenaries, or so the rumors said. It was the sort of situation that could see kindling turn to an inferno in a moment. They had very little information beyond that but Dejan and the Order did not want to see chaos unfold right at their doorstep.

"So squire, what do you think we should do upon reaching the Baron's territory?"

 

[Innis]

The distinction between a sharp blade and a dull blade was completely lost on Innis. She thought she had been focused. But somehow, she'd missed the parry again, or maybe she should have stabbed when she'd slashed, or whatever else it was Sir Damir wanted her to figure out, and now she was on the ground again. Had this been a real fight, Innis would be quite dead. As it was, she was just out of breath, and would be nursing a couple of new bruises that evening.

She'd heard rumors that the Wild Pursuant was good with a sword, but had only registered it in the vague sort of way where she assumed that every Knight was a good swordsman. Now she was experiencing his skill firsthand, and it was exhausting. Normally, Innis blamed her subpar practice on her scarred right arm, the tendons mangled beyond what any of the order's healers could fix. That excuse didn't work on a man like Sir Damir. How did he even do all that with only one arm!

Dragging her sword in the dirt, Innis picked herself up off the ground. The words let's stop here rang sweetly through the air, and she was not a proud enough creature to dispute the suggestion. She only nodded roughly in agreement and gave a loud, snotty sniff to clear her breath. She mulled over the question as she grabbed her hat and coat off a nearby branch, happy for the change in subject.

"When arbitrating between two parties, it's important to get both sides of the story," Innis answered dutifully. "But in a small territory, which story to get first, matters too. If we visit the baron straight away, the merchants will be wary. If we go to the merchants, the baron might take offense. We can't be seen picking sides."

Her brow furrowed as she tried to remember the details of their missive. Six days was a long time to do nothing but swordwork. As the solution struck her, she stuck her finger in the air. "We should talk to the mercenaries, first. They might have something to say about their bosses, and if we're inconspicuous enough, they probably won't report on it to anyone important."

 

[Dejan Damir]

"Good," replied the knight in a gruff but not unkind tone. The squire had reasoned out well the immediate challenges that lay before them. It was one thing to swing a sword and another to grasp the complexities of politics. Local disputes could be especially troublesome if not handled appropriately. Minor lords were often short-sighted which tended to lead to very rash decisions. That is how common folk ended up destitute, and sometimes even worse. Those of the Order tried to avert those situations when possible.

"A subtle approach would indeed be best," he began to say, "unfortunately, that is rather difficult for someone such as myself. I am known in these lands and even if I weren't, well..." Dejan looked down towards his missing arm with a small smile. The knight had known the former Baron of Estefall and considered him a reasonable man. The same could not be said of the one who now sat on the seat, the former Baron's brother. A man who never took kindly to the Order's 'meddling' as he put it.

"In short, I shall leave the sellswords to you while I broach other avenues," he explained. It would certainly be a test for the squire but he did not think that she would disappoint.

He remained silent for a moment, thinking on if he had missed anything else important. "Remember Squire, We may not be as we were but there are those who remember our efforts. Assistance may be found in the simplest of places. Be wary, however, as I suspect the Baron's men will not look upon us fondly."

The knight looked to his charge, "Questions?"

 

[Innis]

Innis paused as she put her coat back on, one arm stretched out into a sleeve while the other dangled free. "You want me to talk to the mercenaries... by myself?" What sort of men did merchants hire to rile up a local lord? Surely not kind or chivalrous ones. She didn't know exactly what she had gotten herself into, but it wouldn't be like dealing with a knight at the monastery, she knew that much.

"Alright," Innis said, steeling herself against every possibility. "I can do that."

The knight and squire's mounts were tied to a tree branch a ways out of practice stabbing range. She approached the elderly cob that served as her steed. It was a loaner from the stables, one that many a young prospect had learned to ride on, not belonging to anyone in particular. Innis patted the horse's neck as she untied its reigns and led it towards the road.

"Er, you'll still be nearby, right Sir Damir?" Innis called out to the Pursuant, not doing a good job of masking the nerves in her voice.

 

[Dejan Damir]

"Near enough, squire, near enough," the knight intoned. He certainly did not blame the young woman for her anxiety. It was not an easy that Dejan had assigned to the knight-in-training. Dejan considered it a good sign that Innis was showing trepidation, it meant she wasn't a fool. He had seen too many a young squire think they could take on the challenges of the world without a care. There were some lessons that were better off not learned. A mere measure of caution showed that the squire was already above many of her peers.

He watched as Innis set off towards the town. On the surface, it seemed that he was sending his ward into the wolves' den. Dejan had to admit that wasn't entirely incorrect. The Order's numbers were not what they once were. It was not uncommon for a knight to find themselves standing alone in hostile territory. To stand resolute in the face of insurmountable odds was a necessary quality for any true knight.

Dejan had also made sure to make a few inquiries before embarking on this particular task. The mercenaries that had been hired were a hard-bitten lot but otherwise reputable. He measured them as the sort to not bring undue trouble upon themselves. The Order's power may have waned but there were still legends among their ranks. Not the sort enemies that a middling mercenary company would wish to have.

Thus he felt comfortable as he eventually made his way towards the Baron's territory. His sense of ease immediately dissipated upon his actual arrival to the town. Dejan was struck with an overbearing eeriness. He expected a certain level of tension considering the current state of affairs but this feeling was something else entirely.

Best to find squire Innis, and quickly.

 

[Innis]

As they came closer to town, they parted ways, and Innis tried not to feel the knight's absence so much that it worried her. She did not say that this would be the first time she had ventured so far from the monastery without any kind of supervision. Stilling her resolve, she urged her horse forward at a faster gait. If Sir Dejan thought she was ready, then she was ready.

When she reached the last stretch of road before the first small cluster of buildings, Innis dismounted from her greying cob and walked the rest of the way. A common courtesy, so as not to kick up too much dust in front of the regular denizens. As she wove between houses and gardens, Innis silently recited everything she knew about the place. The town was called Kitwick, ruled over by the Baron Estefall, and populated mostly by merchants and crafters. Their main export was candles and cloth, the monastery got a lot of everyday things from here. The linen for her shirt was probably woven by somebody in this town...

A heavy shoulder brought Innis out of her thought as somebody tripped into her. She glanced away, horse side-stepping along with her as it let out a startled snort.

"Watch where you're going, girl," a gruff man in tattered chainmail said. He had a rucksack slung over one shoulder and a mace at his hip.

"I've got a whole horse here," Innis motioned at her mount behind her. While the beast was on the smaller side for a knight's steed, he still took up a good portion of the road, and was quite hard to miss. "You watch it."

The man sniffed. "S'not a good place to be," he muttered half-heartedly, his gaze distracted. He seemed to be looking for something.

"What, the road?" Innis retorted. "Don't know where else a traveler is supposed to be."

"No girl, outside," he kept that hushed tone and wary glance. "Best get somewhere safe."

Well, that unsettled her. Innis watched as the man turned and went on his way, long strides taking him somewhere in a hurry. "Then where are you headed, somewhere safe? I'm following." She turned her horse around and started after the man. "Are you a mercenary?"

The man quickened his stride, shifting the weight of the rucksack so it wouldn't slide off his shoulder. "Not advertising, and you're not welcome!"

"Better drop me off some place where I am, then!" Come to think of it, no one else but the two of them were bustling about. On a gentle spring day like this, there ought to be more activity - folks tending their gardens, kids running about, merchants loading up their wares. At least a window open to let the breeze in, but every house she passed was shuttered off.

She really hoped Syr Dejan kept his promise of staying nearby.

Dejan Damir

 

[Dejan Damir]

Dejan dismounted carefully as he made his way into the town. Horses generally offered mobility but that was true on the open plains. The narrow streets of Kitwick were not an ideal place for a mounted rider. He was still enveloped by the disconcerting silence that hung over the area. There was no doubt that the town should have been bustling with activity at this time. Yet stores that should be open, were shuttered. This was entirely unheard of, especially in a merchant town.

The knight proceeded cautiously until he finally arrived at the Fawltail Inn, a stop which he had frequented many times in the past. There was no one to handle his horse so Dejan took a moment to stable the beast before heading to the entrance. He made to push the door open but found that it would not budge. Dejan wrapped his mailed fist against the door, twice. Eventually he heard a shuffle of feet before the wood was pried ajar ever so slowly.

"Whaddya want?" came the anxious reply. Dejan recognized the half-hidden face of the innkeeper.

"A meal and a room if possible," He stated calmly.

"Sorry, none doing."

"Is that so?" The knight pursuant intoned quietly. He stole a quick glance inside the building before the door was shut completely. Dejan could tell almost immediately that there were multiple people that were just out of sight. It was not a matter of the arcane but rather experience. He had heard the quiet murmurs, the soft sound of blades being drawn. Dejan looked around him as he took two steps backwards from the building.

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he focused his senses. His good hand slowly drifted back, over his shoulder even as he heard shuffling of footsteps. The door to the inn burst open and revealed his first foe in all their blunder.

Steel flashed. A corpse greeted the earth.

There was no time for sympathy.

 

[Innis]

There was a commotion around the corner, Innis was observant enough to notice that. She hurried her pace into a run, her horse following dutifully behind with heavy hoof beats. She skidded around the side of a building and the scene beyond had her stumbling to a stop.

"Syr Damir...?" Innis asked, but there was no time for an answer, as a man slumped to the ground in front of them, the knight's sword wet with blood.

That wasn't right. They had come here to help the townsfolk, to settle a misunderstanding before it came to blows. So there couldn't be a corpse in front of her now, it must have been some kind of mistake. Of course, mistakes didn't happen two, three, four times in a row as more men piled out of the door and surrounded Dejan. Innis sucked a breath in, put a hand on the hilt at her side. This was not training. If she stumbled here, no one was going to stay their blades. She'd walk away with more than a few bruises, if she walked away at all...

"Not that way!"

Innis felt a rough hand wrap around her arm. She let out half a squawk as the man from before pulled her off the road and down a side alley. This time, her horse did not follow, the lazy cob. "Let go," Innis found her voice. "I've got to help!"

"Do you got a deathwish, girl?" The man kept dodging down the alley, dragging her along by the arm. She stumbled after. "Quiet now, let them take care of that Knight, and everything'll go back to normal."

With a hard shove, Innis separated herself from the man's grasp. Indignation had burned whatever hesitation she'd had before out of her gaze. "You knew we were coming? Did someone plan this out?"

"...We?" The man echoed. A thought sprung up in him, slow to root but quick to turn him about. Eyes hardening, he shrugged the rucksack off his shoulder and reached for a mace at his side. "Shit, you're one of them witches."

"Sure am." Innis drew her sword and, just like Syr Damir had taught her, twisted her feet around into a fluid stance, her profile thin as she faced the man half on.

Dejan Damir

 

[Dejan Damir]

"Stop this foolishness," growled the grizzled knight. He had not expected this to be an easy task but to think blood would be shed so soon. Dejan hoped that the corpse at his feet would suffice but that did not appear to be the case. If anything, the death of their comrade only seemed to excite the others. He could see in their eyes that they were relishing the opportunity to bring him down. Dejan had seen this type many times before and knew they could not be reasoned with.

So be it.

"Syr Damir...?"

Dejan turned in surprise as he caught sight of the squire. He nearly winced as he saw the dismay, and more importantly, the disappointment in the young knight's eyes. The lass had come expecting they would be dealing with petty insults and instead they found death. The older knight was not ashamed but he could not deny that regret hung heavier than usual. He would have to explain things later but for now it was good enough that Innis was unharmed.

"Squi-" he began to say when suddenly the knight-in-training was yanked back into the alley from which she appeared. Dejan made to go after her but the remaining thugs would not let it happen so easily. They had also been momentarily taken aback by the appearance of the squire but now remembered their initial purpose.

The knight was quick to deflect the attack of his first opponent and responded with a thrust of his boot. He sent the thug stumbling backwards which allowed him to focus his attention on the next foe. This time he pushed forward with his own swift strikes in order to quickly bring down the thug. Dejan given a brief moment, tossed a glance back to the alleyway where Innis had disappeared.

He worried for her but trusted that the days they spent training together had not been wasted.

 

[Innis]

The fat barbed mace looked heavy, yet still the mercenary in front of her swung it around frighteningly fast. Innis did her best to parry, stepping this way and that, but forgetting to jab with her sword when the opportunity presented itself. The tip of her blade wavered in the air, slung about uselessly as she dug into her heels and spun round to keep from getting cornered.

"You can still get out of here," the mercenary said, spinning with her. The guilt beaded on his forehead in sweaty drops even as he raised the rusty metal thing to strike again. "Just run already."

The hesitation apparent in the man was not lost on Innis. Was she really having a hard time dealing with an enemy who didn't want to hurt her? She gripped her sword tighter and grit her teeth into a scowl, such pity spurring her on. Her movements were hot and tender as she lunged forward, but she didn't forget her footwork.

When an attack came near her right side, Innis instinctively shied away from it, protecting her weaker arm. Basically every instructor she'd ever had pointed this out. Only Sir Dejan had told her what to do about. Start to shift her weight even as she leaned in to the feint, then square her shoulder and...

She ducked under the mercenary's strike, slamming into the man's gut with her right side, as her short sword came in low. The man grunted out in pain and stumbled. It was only after his grip on the mace slackened did Innis realized that she'd stabbed him. She pulled away, and her sword caught on cloth and bone.

"Oh gods, I'm sorry..." The fruit of her successful maneuver sloughed off to reveal a cold pit of fear.

The mercenary stumbled backwards, decoupling from her sword, coming to slump against a building wall. "Better me th'n you," he gurgled out. Clutching his bloodied side, he slid all the way down to the ground. One hand still curled around the handle of his mace, but it didn't look like he'd be lifting it anytime soon. "Don't go dying for a monster like that."

Innis didn't lower her sword, standing behind it as if its thin line could hide the sight of the dying man from her. "What do you mean by that?" She asked too loudly, squeezing the nerves out of her voice even as tears were welling up in her eyes.

The mercenary didn't respond, only tilted more to one side with a mirthless huff, staring flatly at the space of dirt between his feet.

"Hey! Don't pass out, you'll really die!" She shouted at him, but it seemed too late.

Dejan Damir

 

[Dejan Damir]

Dejan lowered his shoulder and barreled into the nearest attacker. The two crashed into the wall of the inn and the knight immediately lashed out with a gauntlet fist. He didn't bother to check if the force of the blow was enough and quickly pivoted to the next attacker. His blade lashed out and caught his next foe in the side. The knight dragged his blade from the mercenary's body as the other remaining foes watched with hesitation. Dejan looked at the four who still stood in his way, regret painting their faces.

"I offered this once before, stop this foolishness." The words of the older knight hung in the air of finality. Dejan's point was emphasized by the multiple bodies that now lay at their feet. He watched as indecision settled among those who were once so keen to kill him. The older knight may have lacked an arm but his presence was not to be underestimated. He was a veteran of more than a few battles and that came across even to the most daft person.

Silence sat heavy between the two sides until a shuffle of steps brought Dejan a measure of peace. He had already begun to make his way into the earlier alleyway as the other mercenaries scurried away. He quickly made his way through the narrow street until he found the squire unharmed. Dejan's initial sense was that of relief but could see that a heavy burden now lay on the young woman's shoulders.

"Squire," he began, but could see that she had not heard his words. "Innis.."

The knight took a step forward but still maintained his distance.

 

[Innis]

A thin wisp of light escaped from the man's mouth. Ah so she could see that, too. A cold part of Innis slated the information away for later use, a question that she'd had for a long time finally answered. What does a soul look like? Nothing more than a single warm breath on a cold day.

Clinging to that cold and curious though, she was doing alright. Until Syr Damir said her name, something she'd never heard before, not even when she tried to dodge her lessons and the Knight got short with her. A drop of blood rolled off the tip of her sword. Her hand shook, and another drop fell.

"Syr Damir," she responded. She turned away from the dead man and began walking towards Dejan, but she only got so far before her composure broke. The sword clattered to the ground as she lost her grip on it. Innis sprinted the last few steps, tears blurring her vision. Innis squashed her face against the knight's chest, squeezing her eyes shut, breath coming out shaking as she tried to deepen her breaths. She would say something, she would tell him she was alright, that she could keep going - in a moment. She just needed a moment.

Her fingers dug into the metal of his cuirass, finding little purchase there.

Dejan Damir

 

[Dejan Damir]

He had seen it so many times before and yet Dejan still had trouble maintaining his composure. There was a different between accepting that death was a inevitability for a Knight Anathaeum and then actually taking a life. He had killed more than a few during his years serving the Order but he had not forgotten the impact it could have on a soul. Innis was not the first squire he had trained but it had been some time since he had truly taken someone under his wing. He could see that Innis had talent. Too many were all too ready to swing their swords but skill with words was not easily gained.

Dejan knew that none of that mattered to the young squire currently.

"It's alright, lass," he reassured with a singular but strong embrace. The knight took a moment to look around to make sure that they weren't in for any surprises. It appeared that this mercenary had acted alone or at least the others had been scared off; Dejan thought it likely to be the former.

The older knight's instincts begged for him to let the squire cry to her heart's content but that was not practical. Dejan's next words were firm but not uncaring.

"You did a hard thing here. There is no arguing that. This is simply the natural course of our duties."

There would be time to process all that had happened but as of now, they were seemingly in enemy territory.

"Squire Innis, did he tell you anything of note?"

 

[Innis]

She got her moment, as Dejan wrapped his arm around her, brief as the comfort was. Blinking her eyes clear, she pulled herself away as he asked her a question. Innis sniffed as she thought back to what the mercenary had said, grateful for the distraction, a problem that she could solve.

"It sounded like he recognized you," she said. Careful not to glance at the dead man, she went to pick up her sword. "Not just as a Knight of Anathaeum, but to target you specifically."

The blood on her blade was starting to dry splotchy, she knew if she didn't do something about that it would stain the metal. Taking a deep breath, Innis wiped it on the corner of her jacket. She'd need to carry around a spare cloth for this, if it was to become a regular part of her duties, if she was to...

Innis sheathed the blade.

He called you a monster, she thought, but couldn't bring herself to say that part out out loud. "They knew we were coming," she said instead.

Dejan Damir

 

[Dejan Damir]

Dejan grunted his acknowledgement of this new information. He suspected that he might encounter some animosity but the new Baron’s vindictiveness was beyond the knight could have predicted. The pursuant suspected that the squire had not told him everything but did not press the matter. She had recovered her composure and that was all that he could ask for at the moment.

“It seems my familiarity with the barony has proven to be quite a liability,” admitted the grizzled knight. He was not being a very proficient mentor as things currently were. Dejan needed to think on how best to proceed, and that meant getting out of sight. “We must move,” he ordered.

The knight quickly guided them through a series of streets and alleys until coming upon an abandoned building. Satisfied that they had not been followed, he ushered Innis into the building and moved to do the same.

“This is odd,” he said once the pair had finally settled. “No formal request was made of the Order. Thus only the Knight-Captain and myself were privy to this endeavor before we set off.” A lesser group would have jumped to thoughts of betrayal but Dejan knew better. “It is certainly possible to predict that we may attempt to mediate a potential conflict in this area, as we have done so before. However, to anticipate our intervention speaks of strategy. A cunning which I have never attributed to the current baron,” he explained. It was a harsh analysis but one that had come from personal experience and Dejan suspected that the man had not changed in this regard.

“Normally I would suggest that we send for reinforcements,” the knight began to say, “but I cannot drag others into this matter.” He knew it was nothing more than foolish pride but he was too old to be dragging the Order into his personal problems. It was bad enough that Innis had gotten involved.

more than just involved.

His gaze focused on the squire. “Whether your part in this matter ends now or not, can only be decided by you, Innis. No matter what your choice, you have already proved your mettle.”

 

[Innis]

When the order came to move, Innis quickly obliged. It gave her time to trail behind the big knight and do all the embarrassing little things that had to happen after a cry. She wiped her nose and scraped the dried tears away from the corners of her eyes. Focused on bringing her breath back down to even and her expression something further away from trembling.

Once hidden away from sight in a dusty old warehouse, Syr Dejan continued piecing together the bloody scene they had just encountered. Someone in town had been expecting them, but they couldn't have known it wasy them, not without a good deal of setup beforehand. In short, he was saying that the baron was too much of a fool to think up a plot this twisting. Under better circumstances, Innis would have snorted at that. As it stood, she merely grimaced.

When Syr Dejan turned his gaze back to Innis, she looked away, out a broken window across the room. Nailed boards and tattered cloth made it so that only a small sliver of treeline could be seen through the opening. Though he didn't say it directly, she knew what Syr Dejan meant to ask with his last comment to her. It would be no trouble at all for her to slip out of town and head back to the monastery on her own. Hunted though they seemed to be, it was no small feat to chase a Knight of Anathaeum through their own woods. Even a squire would prove difficult to corner. She could go in relative safety, and leave the rest to a real Knight.

Innis shook her head, and looked back to the elder knight. "We came here to help these townsfolk. They still need our help, even if they don't seem to want it. I'm sorry Syr, but whatever else is going on, that part's got nothing to do with you." Her gaze was shadowed under the brim of her hat, but her eyes shone brighter still. "I'm staying."

Dejan Damir

 

[Dejan Damir]

He gave the squire a hard look before his expression finally softened. "Well said."

The squire was correct, they had come here to ensure the safety of the townsfolk first and foremost. Any particular personal history that Dejan had was irrelevant to their mission. He had vowed to protect the people of the Vale and that is what he came to do. Any implications could be dealt with at a later point. The question then remained; how to proceed? He had already made one mistake in judgment and could not afford to make another.

"This ends with the Baron..." Dejan stated. It ends with him or whoever is behind him. There was no point in trying to fight their way through the entire town. The older knight was sure that there was something unnatural at work. They needed to get to the the lord's mansion and discover what had truly transpired. This would be easier said than done.

Dejan sighed, they would have to chance it for now.

"The Baron's manse is unfortunately on the opposite end of the town. I should be able to guide us around most of the patrols but it is unlikely we make it all the way unseen." the pursuant explained. "A distraction would prove most useful should we come to need it. A spell would prove the ideal solution but my magic isn't well-suited for such a purpose."

His gaze rested on his charge. "You have a keen mind, squire Innis, even if you occasionally lack focus. So what say you, do you have a solution for our current predicament?" He knew that he was asking much of the aspiring knight but he only did so because he trusted in her talent. Dejan would see Innis through this trial and one step closer to swearing her oath.

 

[Innis]

The other squires liked to say that Syr Damir could split firewood with a glance alone - Innis believed them now as the knight leveled that precipitous gaze at her. Only when he spoke did she breath again.

Well said.

It had not been a test, she knew, but a current of pride still bubbled up in her despite everything, and she let those two words of praise lift her up as Syr Damir continued with his assessment of their predicament. Her spirits came crashing down a bit when he mentioned her lack of focus - that word again. This time, the elder knight's question did feel like a test.

Innis looked down, pouting her lips in thought. "I'm better at breaking illusions, not starting them," she admitted, talking aloud as she thought through the problem. "If there's a mage among those mercenaries, they'll notice right away that something's not real."

Her expression went blank for a moment as a memory flitted through her mind. Innis had been trying for months to figure out how Syr Theros did all that stuff that he did without anyone noticing, but she couldn't figure it out. Suppose that was part of the point, though. If it was easy to slip in and out of a spell unnoticed, more people would do it.

Focus.

Innis blinked back to a solution she could actually manage. "I can ask the ghosts to manifest a distraction," she said with a nod. Unclipping the black iron lantern that always hung at her side, she lifted it up for Syr Damir's inspection. Behind the glass occulus, an uncounted number of limbs swirled in untold space, glowing very faintly blue. "That's different than a cast illusion, since they're catalysts of the mortal psyche and all. Should get us out of a bad spot, but I can only do it once if I want to keep my strength."

The problem with the ghosts is that they didn't always knew who to haunt. Innis didn't mention this. She could probably keep them reigned in; she'd been practicing her focus.

Dejan Damir

 

[Dejan Damir]

"Under normal circumstances, I would say we wouldn't have to worry about the presence of a mage..." Dejan started to say but left the rest unsaid. It had become abundantly clear that nothing here was as it should be. In the pursuant's experience that usually meant magic was involved. The older knight was impressed by the squire's honesty. It was unfortunately all too common for the trainees to overestimate their abilities. Arrogance was certainly a reason but most were just desperate to prove their worth. Dejan could certainly sympathize with the sentiment but it was dangerous. Innis had once again shown that she had the composure to succeed as a knight.

Dejan leaned forward and inspected the lamps and spirits within. His look was a mix of both curiosity and confusion, though he attempted to hid the latter. He was no stranger to the oddities of the Dusk but could still be caught off guard by it. The spirits could only be used in a limited fashion but one time may be all that separated them from life and death. "Good. Hopefully we should not need them but it is best to be prepared."

He began preparing to set off but paused for a moment. "I did say my magic was not ideal in this situation but an old knight has his tricks," he reassured the squire. Dejan was still a Pursuant of the Order, he had combated all manner of evil for decades. It would take more than a petty baron and his henchmen to stop him from seeing his mission done. "Let us go."

The two pressed into the town and the now faded light. Dejan was still able to navigate through the streets, age had apparently not affected his memory just yet. He could hear muted voices hear and there but it seemed most had gone to the edges of the town. They had made it more than halfway to their destination before their luck ran out. A lone mercenary had come around the corner and Dejan had acted immediately to subdue to the man. Unfortunately, the pursuant had failed to also subdue to the bottle of rum in the mercenary's hand.

A resounding crash, followed by a torrent of angry yells.

"Well squire, it seems the bad spot has come sooner than expected."


Innis

 

[Innis]

Did Innis feel reassured, with the presence of the elder knight by her side? Yes, as he led them confidently through the streets, step sure and vision sharp, she felt herself following with confidence, consumed entirely by the task of following in step and moving undetected. All the way up until Syr Dejan strangled a man with expert care, save for the loose hand and loose bottle that crashed loudly to the ground.

"Aye, Mathem, you'd better not have dropped tha' rum! That shit wasn't cheap!" A mercenary yelled as the rattle resounded through the street.

Innis slowed her breathing and her perception of the world, focused on the here and now. The mercenary was about to round the corner, his footsteps resounding in her mind. On the other side of the wall, a raucous lot shouted and yelled, maybe four or five of them. Someone looked out the window from that room, saw the scene, and began to speak. She had to act quickly, as Syr Dejan had, or else this would turn into a bloodbath.

Well squire, it seems the bad spot has come sooner than expected.

She nodded, already pulling out her lantern. 'Please work,' Innis thought as she unlatched the ocular lens, letting loose a flurry of skinny little arms and handa, ephemeral and ever expanding as they reached out for something to grasp.

The mercenary rounded the corner, and was me by the haunting vision of something-or-other. "A gh-g-ghost!" He gasped, stopped in his tracks.

The man in the window met with a similar fate. Hurriedly, he reached forward and and slammed the shutters closed, eyes white with fear. The diversion had worked.

The next natural move was to run for cover, but Innis was planted in place. She was frozen, looking straight ahead at the atrocities she had let out. A ghostly grasp couched her face, and before her, she saw the image of her parents, their hands clasped together as her mother leaned against her father.

No, a clearer part of her mind pleaded. This is just a manifestation of your psyche, a trick of the mind, don't believe it.

Her parents smiled at her, gaze forlorn and beckoning, and Innis stepped forward, reaching out to them.

Dejan Damir

 

[Dejan Damir]

Dejan watched as the squire promptly went about casting her...haunting. The knight of Dawn was unclear as to the nature of the squire's spirits. Were these her own summons or closer to lost souls, he sensed it was closer to the latter. There were others in the Order who would assist Innis with developing her arcane skills. The lesson that Dejan sought to teach on this mission were entirely different. Unfortunately he had not intended for the squire to be so thoroughly tested. Such was the fate of a Knight Anathaeum.

The distraction worked as intended but the pursuant quickly noticed that something was wrong. He watched as Innis seemed transfixed by a ghostly apparition, a pair of them to be exact. Their countenance was hazy to Dejan but clearly they held meaning to the squire. The Pursuant knew that the distraction would be for naught if they did not move soon.

Still, he waited.

His movement mirrored Innis, only taking a step forward when she did. He placed a firm, but gentle hand on the squire's shoulder.

"What you seek cannot be found in the past, Innis," he stated with quiet conviction.

Innis

 

[Innis]

What you seek cannot be found in the past.

Just barely, she felt Dejan's hand come to rest on her shoulder. The reminder, gentle as it was, served well to pull her away from the image of her parent. Dazed still, Innis turned her head to look up at Syr Dejan standing next to her. The knuckles of her scar-laced hand tightened, and when she looked next at the false light before her, her parents were no longer smiling.

Innis took a deep breath, held it as she squeezed her eyes shut and dove forward. She waded straight through the illusion, let it pass through her and about her until she felt the presence of the mischievous spirits dissipate back into the lantern. It was not too late, she could still pull this off. All she had to do was keep walking forward.

"I'm going straight ahead," Innis responded to the Knight Pursuant, resolve set into her movements. She kept walking, though the mercenaries behind them were still causing a commotion. Shouts could be heard from the other side of the alley's wall, and the mercenary who had nearly discovered them had yet to round the corner, thoroughly in his own head about something. "Nevermind that. Look, Syr Damir, the castle's up ahead, and we've got a Baron to talk to."

Even though by this point she should have suspected that they were going to do more than just talk to the rulership of Estefall.

Dejan Damir

 

[Dejan Damir]

The squire had proven her determination thrice-over. It had come time to see this matter to its conclusion. Dejan ignored the oddities as suggested and proceeded towards the lord's keep. The Pursuant grew increasingly suspicious as they approached completely unharassed. It wasn't that they were being ignored, there was simply no one present. Dejan began to understand upon reaching the gates. Sorcery was thick at the perimeter, a normal human would be nauseated just by standing near it for a few moments.

"A moment, squire," the old knight said as his hand grew a mossy-green. He waved his hand in front of Innis and then himself. A faint, nearly indiscernible aura now surrounded the two knights. Wards were not his speciality but it would serve for now. Dejan was not intending to make an extended stay.

He motioned for the squire to follow and the two pressed deeper into the castle. Much like on the streets of the town, Dejan navigated them through the halls without difficulty. The knight could not sense any other presence but the sorcery in the air was made to obfuscate. Eventually they found themselves at the reception hall and a lone shadow sat upon the lord's seat.

Dejan said nothing, nor did he draw his sword. His eyes narrowed slightly and then, finally, his posture relaxed. The old man strode forward until he was but a few feet from the figure. What greeted Dejan was the emaciated, lifeless husk of the Baron. It was apparent that he had been dead for quite some time. Though clearly dark magic had influenced the process.

"Squire, there should be an artefact or focus of some power in this room. I believe due to the nature of the magik, you will find it easier than I. Be vigilant, and ensure you do not touch it directly," the old knight warned. This final piece would see them able to return to the Monastery.

Innis

 

[Innis]

The halls were empty of people as they wandered, but they were full to the brim with old sorcery, the whole estate - and perhaps the whole town - affected by the residual rot of a spell gone rancid. The blue banners of Kitwick fluttered absently as their boots echoed down the hall of the lord's estate. At the end of the hall, nothing but a broken stained glass window and the slumped figure of a defeated man. Where the older knight felt relief, Innis gasped in shock at the sight of the dead Baron Estefall. The initial surprise turned quickly to disgust as Syr Dejan mentioned an artifact.

"Yes, I see it," she said without hesitation, though she was not happy about exactly where the locus of energy was emanating from. Stepping forward, Innis pulled a little knife from an inside coat pocket. As she approached the Baron's corpse, she could feel Syr Dejan's ward working harder than before. Slowly, she pushed the point of her knife forward, and mossy magic frosted green along her gloved knuckles.

Ugh! How many terrible things was she going to have to do in one day!

Right before she plunged the knife into dusty fabrics and emaciated flesh, she squeezed her eyes shut. Innis found she had to open her eyes as she cut into the Baron's gut and fished around. She could sense the thing, but finding it was another matter. Eventually her knife caught on something hard. Pressing her other hand against the Baron's shoulder, she pried the thing loose with an unceremonious wrenching.

A ruby clattered down the steps of the throne and onto the floor. Amidst the colorful glass, it pulsed with vile energy, dark and gleaming, glinting red and greed.

"I don't know what that thing is," Innis admitted, stepping away from the body. and off the dais. She did not go near the enchanted ruby. "But its rotted through to the core."

Not for the first time today, her spirits fell, and a mournful air washed over Innis. She was still holding her knife, downturned point wobbling uncertainly. "Syr Damir, you think it got everyone else, too? In the castle?"

Dejan Damir

 

[Dejan Damir]

Dejan watched as Innis set about her macabre task. He had not anticipated the focus would be within the Baron's body. The possibility had crossed his mind but this seemed to be the work of a truly sinister entity. Dejan was no longer surprised by the squire's dogged determination. She had clearly resolved something within herself. The circumstances had been far from ideal but the result could have been much worse. Dejan, however, knew better than to think that the squire was fine. Her mind simply had not been given time to truly comprehend all that had happened.

"It is a magi's focus, a necromancer's in particular," he explained, looking down at the ruby. Dejan slowly drew his blade as he took a step towards the foul gem. "No, I do not think that to be the case. Had so many souls been consumed, we likely would not have made it past the keep's gates. My guess is most have gone elsewhere or have been minorly afflicted." Dejan could obviously not say for certain but he did think there was a pile of corpses in the dungeon. He still did not have a full grasp on the perpetrator's motivations but sensed there was more to the puzzle. In any case, he would get assistance from other knights to assess the scope of those affected.

The older knight began to mutter an incantation as he took another step closer. He raised his blade above the ruby, holding it there for a few tense seconds. There was a loud crack as steel met mineral. The ruby's red energy flickered twice before going completely dull. Dejan removed his blade and from the void sprouted old roots. They spread out from the crack until they encompassed the entire gem. Tighter and tighter they strangled whatever little evil energy remained until nothing but dust remained.

A raspy voice suddenly rang through the hall.

"Your interference has been for naught." Disdain and arrogance coated each word.

With that, the tainted energy that had encompassed the castle was lifted. Dejan looked once more at the rotting corpse of the Baron before turning his attention to Innis.

"You did well today. Much has still to be discerned but that shall come later. Let us head home."

Innis