Fable - Ask Riders at Dawn, Swords by Sundown

[Ereven Theruvanen]

It was a sun-kissed morning when the elf Ereven rode into the little hamlet of Fallburgh atop his white courser. The wooden houses and straw-topped huts gave off their familiar sights and smells to any traveler of the Allirian Reach, and the farms of the townsfolk flanked for many acres on both sides of the settlement. It was a human settlement, primarily, and in some ways nearly identical to many villages and towns Ereven had rode into before. He had no reason to suspect this one would be any different, yet he couldn't help but notice that most of the town's inhabitants were in their homes, when at this hour most of them should either be in the fields--a detail his elven vision illuminated for him as being untrue--or working on tasks near their homes, but not in them. In the middle of Fallburgh lay a well, and atop the well sat an old man. Bound as always by his perpetual duty, Ereven ventured forth to investigate.

The old man said nothing as Ereven approached, only staring vacantly to the north. The elf approached, remaining atop his white courser.

"It would seem your hamlet is in a grim and perplexing state, human," Ereven said. "Tell me, do you fear some threat, or watch idly at nothing?"

It would be a few moments before the old man replied, long enough that even Ereven's elven patience might bid him to question again. But he did reply.

"We're all going to die," he said.

Ereven's eyebrow raised with caution. "By what design?"

"Orcs. Nomads. Bandits. Goblins, too. They've all pushed our town around for some time now. Formed into a warband called Gruk's Marauders. At least 200 strong. And we've got nothing left to give. By dusk, they're going to descend upon the town and they'll kill us, and enslave the rest. We sent word to the capitol, but we've received no response, and I doubt we will..." The old man's expression remained vacant, looking into the distance.

Ereven surmised that this warband must be coming from the north. Even as skilled a swordsman as he, one of the greatest alive at the moment most likely, would have trouble killing that many foes. But he remembered his brother, Taluei, and he knew he couldn't back down from this challenge. Perhaps this would be the fight that finally claimed him. He turned back to the old man.

"I am a wandering blade; I hear your plight and will lend my sword. Until the last of Gruk's Marauders flee for their lives, or I am slain, no harm will come to Fallburgh. I swear it. Gather for me all those who would fight to protect their homes, and I will lead them."

The old man nodded, his countenance cautious but compliant. He stood up from the well, and made his way to one of the homes, beginning to ask questions with a grim purpose on his face. And it was well deserved, for who else would be brave enough to stand up against so great and terrible a host? Ereven knew he wouldn't be enough, alone. Even with the help of some of the villagers, it was a doomed cause. He knew only the sword, and little else, but he would try to lead this rabble, even to his demise. It was the right thing to do, or, at least that's what he believed his brother would have thought. Ereven didn't believe in it himself. In fact, in some way, he hoped this battle might be his last... So, he waited at the town well, dismounting his horse and staring into the northern distance just like the old man, preparing for the impending end.

 

[Helena]

[1]
"We are better off leaving this lot to their fate, Helena, no good will come of us dying here, most of all you, or did you forget your new station, hmm?" Edelbert cut from atop his steed, a thin young palfrey mare, made for the long treks, and seemingly little else. He was a thin man, with thin hair and thinner skin. A well groomed mustache made his sharp features all the pointier, and his eyes were a cold blue.


"We are knights of Anathaeum, Edelbert, or did you forget so quickly?" Helena responded, calm and collected as her own horse trekked along the path, guided by her hand as she pulled it along. It was a well muscled courser of a deep chestnut brown. A great grey wolf padded not too far behind her, the beast clearly in her tracks.

From atop the courser cam a plea. "Please ser, and lady, we are in desperate need, I beg of thee, stay the course, help our humble town," he managed, and took a moment to steady himself upon the horse.

Edelbert huffed. "Why not evacuate, hmm?" The thin knight asked. "Why stay and face this horde, when you have so few to stand and fight, and need others to lay down their lives to save your own?"

The man, wrinkly and old, could not summon the words to respond.

"Because it is their home, Edelbert, and they have no where else to go," Helena affirmed.

"A host of two hundred, Helena, did you not hear him tell it earlier?"

"Then leave, Edelbert, I will not look down upon you if you do."

Edelbert clicked his tongue. "Come now, Helena, do not disgrace me so, I would not leave you. To do so would be to foresake my oath," he said bitterly. "We rode out together, sword and palm, and we must return together, dusk and dawn."

"Very well, then steel yourself, brother. For there is much fight ahead of us," Helena smiled, doubtless. "Look, there, we can see the hamlet."

They rode into the town square, whispers and words exchanged by those who hid and watched their approach. The traveler who they had come across along the road, waved to them all. "They have come to help! Brave knights have come to help!"

Edelbert clicked his teeth. "Brave knights, more like bloody idiots if you ask me," he muttered beneath his breath. He hopped off of his horse, and looked to the nearest town folk, "Where can I get water and feed for my horse?" he barked.

Stunned, the young man hurried over. "Here sir, I will take her to the stables, and see that she is properly cared for."

"See that you do," the thin knight replied, edge there in his voice. "It's the bloody least you could do before we all die here," he muttered low and to himself. "What a piss hole of a place this is, why in the hell would any bandit want to take this dreary little place, hmm?"

Helene helped the old man off her horse, and her great wolf stayed near. "Enough, Edelbert, I grow tired of your whinging," she fixed a hard gaze upon him.

Edelbert rolled his eyes and looked off in the distance. "Well, forgive me for wanting to carry on living, Knight Captain,"

"We will not fall here, Edelbert, trust me in this," she found a man who moved about the village with authority and command. She nodded toward him. "Look," she smiled. "A fellow hero, come to defend this fine hamlet," she paced toward the man who soon came into view as an elf. "Hark, fair warrior," she said to him, though her wolf stayed back with the horse and Edelbert. "I see you mount the defenses, and prepare to face what plight may fall upon this place," she nodded to him. "I am Helena, Captain of Dawn, of the Knightly order of Anathaeum," she smiled, "You may call me Helena, for brevities sake," she bowed her head to him. "May I have the pleasure of your name, sir?"

Edelbert sighed, and followed after his captain. He came to stop beside her. "And I am Edelbert, good sir," he bowed to the elft. "A fellow knight of the order."

 

[Ereven Theruvanen]

He was examining the terrain around the little hamlet when he noticed from a distance that two warriors of some description were approaching. He wondered for a moment if they would be threats, perhaps envoys of the warband that would attack by sundown. But they looked professional and well-groomed, not the type of people he would expect bandits and raiders to be. Still, he was on guard when they finally greeted him.

"Hail, and well met, Helena, Captain of Dawn." His affect was calm and polite. "I am Ereven, the wandering swordsman. Many such hamlets know me, not by name, but by deed. I heard you speak from a distance and it would seem that you and I are here for a common purpose." His eyes grew stern and somewhat grim. "It would seem this village is in a dire state. I have asked one of its elders to muster what few men they could, those volunteers who might be willing to pick up a pitchfork or a spear in defense of his home. My sword arm will have to be raised in lieu of the rest who cannot."

He turned and scanned the horizon again as the sun shone on his camouflaged mithril armor. He wasn't much of a tactician, despite being second-to-none in his swordsmanship.

"I am not much of a leader. You will find my skill with a blade unmatched, but I cannot lead such a force to victory. I fear should I defeat these marauders, it would be for naught as they could simply run past me and burn the village. Such is the way of these things, with a force so large. It would seem we are mostly surrounded by crop fields, and the fields are thick with the vegetation... I should think they will burn that, to clear a path. But I do not know how we can stop that, or use it to our advantage."

 

[Helena]

Helena paid the lone warrior mind as he spoke, and she was pleased to hear the confidence in his voice, the certainty that came when he spoke of his own abilities, and the honesty he shared when he spoke of his shortcomings.

"Yes, our position offers few advantages," she agreed, and scanned the rolling planes that surrounded them. "My man here is a re-animator," she said with no hesitation. "He may be able to call forth a few more souls to aid in the defense," she looked over to Edelbert, who wore an annoyed look upon his face.

"Yes," he agreed. "I may be able to convince a few from the other side to bolster our defense," he said with a hint of nervousness. "But their aid will not last more than the night," he affirmed. "Any more, and they may be unable to find rest again," there was a softness in his voice, a concern.

"Then we must make the most of their assistance, Edelbert." Helena affirmed. "But first you should meet with the elder, let them know of our intention."

Edelbert nodded his head in a short bow, his gauntleted fist pressed against his chest in a salute. "Yes, Captain, I shall see to it," he turned toward Ereven and bowed in turn, "Wandering Swordsman," he rose and stepped off to find the elder.

"It would be prudent for me to follow after him shortly," she assured Ereven. "But, our time is short, and there is much to be done," the Knight Captain moved toward the open fields, a high whistle called her horse toward her courser came to her, its saddle bags laden with supplies within reach. She stopped, and dug through the supplies. "Good Ereven, have you heard of the flame drinker plant?" She pulled free from one of the purses a vial, and in it were deep brown seeds with bright orange streaks striping its casing. "It is a shrub, found in pockets of the spine, where fires are more frequent in the dry season," She shook the vial and moved into the field. She looked back at the village, and took a few steps to the east, stopped, and bent low in the tall grass.

"They get their name because they thrive in fires." She smirked, and poked her fingers into the earth, uncorked the vial, and poured out a couple of seeds. "We believe the plant is a creation of the Fae, some part of their realm, come into our own," she pat the earth down, and bowed her head as she cant ancient words of power, helping her pour her magic into the soil, into the seeds.

Fresh green sprout out from the earth, and began to twist and vine and tangle. Helena went on with her cant, and the plant soon appeared healthy and rooted. It was a strange green color, almost like bile with how yellow it was. But it was still very much green.

"We will not be able to stop them from burning these fields, not with so few," She stood up, and began to move further along the perimeter. "But, these fire drinkers have been changed," she bent low, and planted another set of seeds. Poured her magic, and continued. "With the proper cant from me, after they have absorbed enough flames, I can set them to detonate." She looked back at the hero. "I doubt the bandits will consider the unassuming shrub a threat until they are too close to avoid the damage," she smiled, and went on with her work.

 

[Ereven Theruvanen]

"Good Ereven, have you heard of the flame drinker plant?"

He had to admit that he was somewhat impressed that a human knight or paladin might know of such things, at least, as far as an elf with his experience might be; he nodded, as he knew was the human custom to agree when such a question was asked, knowing full well what she was suggesting. He knew what his brother would say--that such a thing would be too dangerous to the townsfolk, or more importantly, their crops and livelihood--but then, his brother had gotten killed with his ideas, and these days, Ereven was far more open to the suggestion than he would have been 100 years ago.

Her strategy seemed sound enough, and he had no complaints with it. Ereven wasn't much of a leader, and nor was he much of a tactician beyond what he could do with his own experience. He'd devoted everything to mastering the blade and bow, and sometimes his lack of versatility reared itself in these situations. After a few moments of quiet contemplation, he nodded again, perhaps seeming more graceful than a human in doing so.

"Your tactics seem sound, though I have no such skill myself. Should you think of somewhere I might better serve this fight, speak and it shall be so," he said.

He was still counting in his head when he said this.

"I should think I must be worth 50 of them, taken in the open field. Were it one after the other, I could easily defeat a rabble such as this. But no such honor or dignity is afforded here." He looked to his horse. "Perhaps we should scout the rest of the countryside, and see what other advantages may be afforded us. I will ensure you return safely to this village once you have gathered the information you need."

Helena of Dawn

 

[Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar]

Rangvaldr sat straight in his courser as he rode past a pair of villagers pushing a wagon along the trail, and would even tug the reins to the left to get his steed to shift around the laboring pair. He had been wandering the trail for weeks, helping where he could and putting his service to the people above his own personal glory. His father taught him that, his fathers disappearance reaffirmed that.

It wasn't until he was nearly past them that he realized he could sense the fear on them, he pulled up on the reins and brought his chestnut courser to a complete stop. One gauntlet would reach out to soothe the horse as his gaze fixed on the villagers. "Pray tell friends, what fear grips you so tightly, that you drag it like a weight?"

The one pushing the wagon would grunt before coming to a stop and muttering to himself before the tail of a horse whipped him in the face, causing him to jump. "A hundred pardons m'lord." he stammered. "Raiders and their ilk are looking to destroy our home. We can't weather that storm, so we're moving on.."

The young knight cursed silently as he gazed back to the hamlet. Scoundrels. He could feel a righteous anger burn within himself. "Brigands, then.." his gaze shifted back to the pair of men. "Continue on in peace.. Seek safety and spread word of the attack.. Maybe some nearby hamlets will have guards to spare."

"Yes m'lo-" he would be cut off by the raised gauntlet.

"I'm no lord. Call me Valdr, friend. I will see if I can help stem the tide... Yah!" he would bark out the last as his heels dug into the side of his horse, spurring the beast to spring forward and race down the trail to the hamlet. He wasn't sure what mess he was getting himself into, all he knew was that it couldn't be suffered. He would see what else he could find from the village elder. Only cowards preyed on the helpless, and the very thought of it disgusted him.

Ereven Theruvanen

 

[Helena]

Helena smiled at the elven warrior, "Fifty?" she said, impressed, but only a little. "Quite the count, and I have no doubt you would best them all if honor were a currency brigands kept," she scanned the horizon and heeded his words. "If you place your trust in me, then I shall put it to use, Master Ereven," she nodded in agreement to his suggestion. "A sound suggestion, there is much the land may offer us yet," She planted one last seed, finished the spell, and rose up standing straight, she closed her eyes and let out a long breath that had her shoulders ease.

Magic had its price, after all.

Before she could call upon her horse, the sound of hooves in gallop sounded across the fields, a heavy steed, if her ears were to be trusted, and when her eyes opened she caught the glint and glimmer of fine plate and chain.

"It would seem that whatever gods watch over this place have not yet abandoned it," she gave a nod, and then raised a hand up to wave the rider down. "Hail, rider!" she called out.

---

Elsewhere, Syr Edelbert met with the elder.

"You, you wish to call forth our dead?!" the old hunched man rasped, breathless with disbelief.

Edelbert narrowed his eyes, and his thin lips spread into the most uncomfortable smile. "Yes,"

The expression only seemed to summon the whites of the elder's eyes, which, up until that point, had been well hidden away behind sags and wrinkles. "But, that's, that is sacrilege! You would defile them. It is dark magic!"

Edelbert's strange smile only grew stranger as he squinted his eyes. No part of him liked this part. "It is old magic, kind elder, forgotten by most of this land, but it is not... dark, as you call it," well, not as most people thought of dark magic anyway.

"H-how? You, you speak of blatant necromancy!"

"Re-animation, kind elder,"

"Necromancy!" He wagged an accusatory finger at the narrow faced knight and his dusk colored armor.

"Hear me, please, I shall only call those who will hear me,"

"They are dead!"

"The dead hear much more than the living oft think, kind elder,"

"But,"

"I will commune with them, elder, through a ritual most hallow, and if they agree to heed the call and defend their home, I shall have them join our cause, but only when the time is right."

The elder blinked. "Necromancy," he said softly beneath his breath.

"Re-animation," Edelbert corrected, "To help us defend this village from annihilation, mind you."

The elder blinked, and nodded slowly. "Yes, right, to protect... the living,"

---

Ereven Theruvanen Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar

 

[Ereven Theruvanen]

Characteristic of an elven warrior of his age and experience, Ereven was calm in his demeanor even as the dread in his heart grew. The aid of these strangers would doubtless be critical if there was any chance of their survival, but the odds were still terribly against them. He remarked on how humans could personify both the most naive of optimism and the darkest of depressions, a thought which caused the corner of his mouth to twitch only very slightly, at the irony that he himself had been in mourning of his brother for over 100 years now. And an elven mourning, it seemed, passed through blood and tireless self-sacrifice...

Ereven had mounted his horse again when seemingly another knight arrived. Perhaps this was one of Helena's band? He wasted no time in speaking; human formalities served no purpose here.

"Would that these were a band of brigands, Knight-Captain," he said. "No, this is a Warband. They will have had much experience on the Steppes. They will have Orcs twice the size of a man, capable of cleaving a farmer in two with a glancing blow... They will have riders, with spears and with bows, which will run down a man the same as you or I would. Their bows will loose arrows tipped with the poison of the asp of the Steppes. I do not know of the gods, but if they have abandoned this place, then they are the wiser indeed."

Ereven looked out to the horizon, seeing the treeline past the fields.

"Would that we had more warriors such as myself. We might ambush them in the trees and distract them. In fact, I might do just that, before and when the fighting breaks out..."

It was the most suicidal option. Therefore, it had to be the one he pursued.

Helena of Dawn Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar

 

[Cahir]

A man of supernaturally imposing stature approached the bear carcass. He was tall, impossibly so, standing well over two meters in height. From the crown of his horned skull to his booted soles, he was muscle-bound and broad as barn.

His skin, mottled grey and chased with various purple markings, glistened in the afternoon sun.

The man shivered, sighing deliciously as he twisted and stretched his long, powerful arms. The blood that coated his forearms and accented his overdeveloped pectoral muscles was brown as mud, dry and oxydized.

He sneered, smiling malevolently, his canine teeth gleaming at the now deceased beast.

"You've given me much trouble."

He seized the bear's mutilated snout and wrenched the head upwards to get a better look at it. The neck snapped in place with wet, boneless ease.

"More eyes than there should be. What a half-baked mutation you are," he chortled, his voice deep and sharp as a dagger while mocking the once mighty creature.

He shifted one of his clawed hands, plunging it abruptly into the corpse's side, tearing through hide and muscle alike.

He yanked violently at the connective tissue just above the bear's scapular bone. The beast, which must've massed well over a ton, budged a little as he did so.

"Blasted thing," grunted the male, exerting himself greatly to detach a fistful of the bear's crimson muscle tissue.

He beamed, triumphantly holding it in the palm of his dinner-plate-sized hand.

Satisfied that the flesh was neither decayed nor irredeemably mutated, the horned behemoth dug in, ravaging it with his four large canines.

The meat drippings only further stained his leathery skin, droplets tracing the outline of his corded, bull-like neck.

Then he heard it: people chatting, and his pointed ears perked up, listening intently.

They weren't far away, he deduced, just out of sight. They could not see him, but he could hear them well enough.

Ereven Theruvanen
Helena

 

[Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar]

"Halt, rider!"

A woman's voice. One laden with authority. Pulling back on the reins, Valdr would look to its source: and he could see clear as day that the authority she bore was well-earned. His courser would slow to a trot, before easing into a gentle stop. Its rider took no time to dismount, swinging one leg over the other before sliding free of the saddle and landing with ease.

A dip of his head would go towards her and then the elf in her company. His silver armor gleamed in the light of the day, furthermore enhanced by the golden inlay and the heraldry of the griffon. He wore a sword at one side of his hip and a warpick at the other. His courser carried a shield on one side and a greatsword and several javelins on the other.

There would be no time for introductions, which was fine enough, a battle lay ahead and from what Valdr could tell, it was going to be fierce. He couldn't tell if it was confidence or arrogance that drove the elves opinion of himself, but that too would be discovered in the coming hours. He hoped for the former, the gods knew they needed it.

The young knight would look around their surroundings. "If we have the time, we should gather the villagers. Those who can't or won't fight, I will help them dig a trench around the village. Doesn't have to be wide enough or deep enough to dissuade them, but it can be just big enough to break a charge." His gaze then shifted to the houses. "They should also gather mud for the buildings to work against any fire and gather water for when the fires begin to set. If they have the numbers, we need to turn it into a disadvantage any way we can."

Helena Ereven Theruvanen Cahir

 

[Helena]

Helena nodded to the knight in shining armor. He seemed capable enough, if looks and equipment were to be trusted, the armor he wore would at least take a strike or two before it cracked, and that had some worth to be sure. With luck, he would take more than that and the armor would hold. Only time would tell.

Beside, the tactic he proposed was sound. "I leave it to you, Syr, perchance Master Ereven can introduce you to the village folk, I've yet to treat with them myself, but," she cast her eyes out to the woods, not too far from where they gathered. "I will investigate the wilds, and see what else can be used for our defense," She nodded to both men, then whistled for her horse. Her own courser heard the call and came up the road, she strode toward it and hopped on quick. "We'll rendesvous shortly, I am sure," she looked back to the village. "Oh, and don't mind my fellow, Syr Edelbert, he means well enough!"

She turned the horse and made for the woods.

---

As they approached the tree-line, the scent of blood was thick in the air, and her horse snorted and shook in protest. She narrowed her eyes, and let magicked words spill from her lips. "Eye of hawk, snout of wolf, whisker of lynx, let my prey be found." Her eyes flashed gold, and the world flashed brighter a moment till they adjusted. The harsh iron smell grew stronger still, near smacked her nose, and she could see warm splotches of liquid spattered about, with a bright glow before her. "A carcass," she said with some worry in her voice. She made for her sword. Had a scouting party been hunting? "Helena, you fool," she cursed beneath her breath, and waited for trap to be sprung.

Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar Cahir Ereven Theruvanen

 

[Ereven Theruvanen]

It was hardly the first time Ereven had worked with knights or paladins before, and thus, it didn't surprise him much at all to see the Knight-Captain hurrying towards the trees on her own. As he was headed there anyway, and given that Gruk's Marauders might have scouts arriving any minute, it did seem the acme of foolishness to leave the relative safety of the village alone. The forest would be more his domain anyhow, or, at least more than that of a knight. But Ereven also knew that any forest which was unfamiliar, was also hostile, and that was the real key to the myths of Elves being tree-dwellers and one with the forest and whatever else it was that humans said about them.

He mounted his own horse again at a casual pace, looking to the new knight who had joined them.

"I know little of these villagers, although I should think they would welcome the aid of a dashing knight such as yourself with little incident. I must be after our impetuous Knight-Captain, as Knight-Captains tend to get lost in forests, and I fear her senses aren't nearly as keen as mine. Before I go, take this," he said, reaching into a bag and retrieving a small, green-glowing pouch, which he then tossed to Rangvaldr. "These are life crystal shards. Give them to any who would join us; so long as they are held by their wielder, they have the ability to heal some wounds and ward off the poison of goblin arrows. You may even want one for yourself. Now I must go; I've tarried too long already, if our Knight-Captain is in trouble."

He urged his horse on with the clicking of his tongue, his smaller elven horse trotting immediately towards the treeline. Ereven suspected that the significance of the life crystal shards might be wasted on a young, inexperienced knight, but then, Ereven had many such treasures from his many lifetimes of saving villages and plundering tombs. The shards were acquired from one such life crystal deep within the Falwood, as tall as a giant, after he and his brother defeated a group of satyrs corrupting said crystal with black magic rituals. Like most of the treasure he carried, it was a constant reminder of the lifestyle that had claimed his brother's life.

He thought, perhaps, that this battle might claim his life, too. Maybe he even wanted that to happen. He shook his head, as if doing so might clear his mind of those thoughts that had invaded his mind for over 100 years.

Helena of Dawn Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar Cahir

 

[Cahir]

Helena nodded to the knight in shining armor. He seemed capable enough, if looks and equipment were to be trusted, the armor he wore would at least take a strike or two before it cracked, and that had some worth to be sure. With luck, he would take more than that and the armor would hold. Only time would tell.

Beside, the tactic he proposed was sound. "I leave it to you, Syr, perchance Master Ereven can introduce you to the village folk, I've yet to treat with them myself, but," she cast her eyes out to the woods, not too far from where they gathered. "I will investigate the wilds, and see what else can be used for our defense," She nodded to both men, then whistled for her horse. Her own courser heard the call and came up the road, she strode toward it and hopped on quick. "We'll rendesvous shortly, I am sure," she looked back to the village. "Oh, and don't mind my fellow, Syr Edelbert, he means well enough!"

She turned the horse and made for the woods.

---

As they approached the tree-line, the scent of blood was thick in the air, and her horse snorted and shook in protest. She narrowed her eyes, and let magicked words spill from her lips. "Eye of hawk, snout of wolf, whisker of lynx, let my prey be found." Her eyes flashed gold, and the world flashed brighter a moment till they adjusted. The harsh iron smell grew stronger still, near smacked her nose, and she could see warm splotches of liquid spattered about, with a bright glow before her. "A carcass," she said with some worry in her voice. She made for her sword. Had a scouting party been hunting? "Helena, you fool," she cursed beneath her breath, and waited for trap to be sprung.

Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar Cahir Ereven Theruvanen

Cahir heard her coming from a mile away and hid in the thicket, observing carefully as the female knight stumbled upon his fresh kill.

He half sneered, half smiled at her initial reaction. Distress, bewilderment, awe, shock. It relieved him to know that she wasn't out to steal his bounty. Yet he still felt the need to confront her, if for no other reason than to prevent her from alerting the local peasants. They would surely plunder the carcass and then he'd have to cut them down for daring to.

"Hmmm," he mused, grumbling something into his chin, his strange, inhuman eyes inspecting the woman. Cahir could all but savor her fear.

He began to move, slowly but deliberately, out of the low groove. It was his head and neck that emerged first, crowned by four upwards-facing, curved horns. There were two sets of them, one on each side of his wide skull.

The rest of him followed suit, albeit less gracefully. Cahir's 2.5 meter tall, 300 kg frame shattered half a dozen large branches, which broke off and fell beneath his boot soles, crunching noisily.

She must've heard him; only a deaf person wouldn't. And if she were, by chance, audibly impared, she would've still seen him as he entered her line of sight.

Cahir strolled and swaggered in all of his unholy glory, thinking not for a second that the armed stranger might strike against him.

A part of him hoped she wouldn't.

"Hello there," greeted the towering, tattooed man, his voice exuding power with each word spoken.


"It must be you that I've heard." Cahir raised an eyebrow, eyes gleaming with curiosity... and thinly veiled interest. The milky white cores of his eyes flickered like flames, illuminating the otherwise pitch-black sclera.

"But where are your friends?"

Ereven Theruvanen
Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar

 

[Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar]

He would nod his head to the Knight-Captain as she then raced off to the woods. And his thoughts about the elf possibly being better suited for such a journey, was mirrored by the next words of the man in question. Ereven. Valdr would store that name for later.

He did, however, laugh at the elfs remark. "I'm sure they get lost fairly often." He would stick out his hand for the pouch. Ereven may have thought high of himself, but he was far from self-centered. The warrior was as noble as they came. "Life crystal shards.." he would repeat. He had never heard of them before, though based on the way Everan spoke of them, he knew they had to be fairly important. "I'll keep them for the villagers. And perhaps after all this, you can tell me how you came across these, Ereven." He offered a respectful bow of the head as the Elf then followed after the Knight-Captain.

He had his duties and he wouldn't tarry. Heading for the village gate, he would pass underneath it, his courser following along behind him. He had a village elder to find and people to rally.

Upon asking around, he would find the Elder was busy with another knight. He wouldn't interrupt that meeting, so instead, he would begin to recruit the villagers. Thankfully, the villagers seemed inclined to at least listen to what he had to say, and soon a herd of them began to gather in the market.

Valdr would stand there with his helm tucked under his arm, and his gaze focusing on each of them. "Well met, friends. I am Valdr, and I am a member of the group looking to liberate you from this current trial. But, we cannot do it alone. We request the aid of every able-bodied citizen to help with at least the preparations. A dozen or so to help me dig a trench around the village. Another dozen to prepare buckets of mud and add them to the thatching of the homes, and anyone else to gather arrows, buckets of water, or healing herbs." His gaze would shift over them. "And for those who are willing to go beyond that and fight for your home.. meet me outside the gate."

With that said, he would turn to leave the market. He needed to begin digging and he hoped that those who wished to help, would manage themselves.

Ereven Theruvanen Cahir Helena

 

[Helena]

Her horse neighed as it stirred beneath her, but Helena only gripped the reins tighter, and willed the creature to still as she turned its mass away, in preparation to flee if need be. With so much muscle, it would be foolish to think the massive man slow, their physique one of pure power, and with power came alarming bursts of energy and speed.

When the horned one spoke, their voice thrummed the very air between them, but for all the menace that came with his bulk, his posture hinted at little threat, though the blood that stained him told a tale in part, and she supposed few hunters showed signs of threat to their prey, at least until it was too late.

"Hail, horned giant," she said earnestly, with wild grin on her face, and eyes wide with a wolfish alertness. Still, as her heart pumped with the primal urge to survive, she closed her eyes and bowed her head in greeting. He would not scare her enough to forget her grace.

After all, it was not the first time she had encountered giants.

Not that it was any easier for it.

When she opened her eyes anew, and found the man still before her, she eased some, and let her hand fall from the grip of her blade. "I did not mean to disturb your hunt," she nodded at the bear. "There is a war-band en-route..." Her eyes had managed to harden, to narrow their gaze as she found her composure. "I worried perhaps forward scouts had brought the beast down," she was very much aware that the man could still be part of said band. But he was far enough, and she sensed no others nearby with the wild magic that coursed through her veins and shined in her eye.

"We could use a man like you to defend this village," she offered. "Warbands oft carry plenty to pilfer once the killing is done," she grinned again, invitingly. "And my honor will not allow me take any such spoils."

---

Back at the village, Edelbert left the elder's hut to find a new knight rousing the villagers. The man spoke well, and many of the able bodied seemed to find some old iron in them as they straightened their backs and set their jaws.

When the young knight turned to leave, Edelbert caught his eye and nodded with approval, and he set toward the village cemetery to do his own rousing of the spirits.

---

Ereven Theruvanen
Cahir
Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar

 

[Ereven Theruvanen]

Ereven took note of the fields as he traversed the dirt road to the forest atop his trusty steed. There was no doubt in his mind that the battle couldn't take place here in the open if they were to have any chance of success; however, that also meant that they would be trapped like rats in a cage, with no hope of retreat once the fighting started. And that meant more innocents would be at risk compared to a pitched battle. But then, these bandits didn't intend to leave survivors, it seemed.

He traveled for some time without incident, following along the same path he assumed the Knight-Captain rode. How far ahead had she gotten in so short a time? Then again, if she'd been at a full gallop... He shook his head. Surely one as experienced at her wouldn't have fallen so quickly. They would have at least heard a battle horn, or some other sound of struggle.

Ereven's ears perked up as he caught the murmur of voices on the wind. He slowed his horse's pace, retrieving his bow from its sheath. An emissary of the warband, perhaps? It wasn't unheard of for goblins, orcs, and bandits to treat, especially with more threatening warriors such as themselves...

He traveled just a little bit further, until he could finally make out the conversation occurring between the two individuals. He would stop and listen for a while, as he also took in the sights of the trees, pondering how he might use them to his advantage to wreak havoc on the warband as it approached the village...

Helena of Dawn
Cahir
Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar

 

[Cahir]

The woman greeted him stiffly, and he checked her out. She was armed, lightly armored, and a tad jumpy judging by her initial reaction. It all added up with the story.

"Horned giant, eh? I'll take it. Been called worse things before."

He strolled over to the bear's lifeless body, threading carefully across the loose, blood-infused soil. Mud soon caked his expensive leather boots, yet Cahir could only grunt in response. There was no helping it.

He plopped atop the corpse, adjusting himself as she went on and on. Contrary to what he had expected, the improvised 'seat' was not the slightest bit comfortable. The very flesh under his buttocks felt rigid, almost wooden in texture.

"Rigor mortis must be setting in," he commented offhandedly, his gaze locked onto the feminine form. His features remained inquisitive, yet unreadable and devoid of intent.


"The warband you mentioned, I'm unaware of it."

His long tongue lashed out, flickering like that of a snake. Cahir used it to moisten his dry and ever-so-slightly cracked lips.

"I was hired to kill this," he patted the bear's mangled skull with his hand, "mutated thing, which was terrorizing the countryside."

"It, devoured a great number of peasants and crossed several hundred kilometers before arriving here."



True to Cahir's word, the bear really was mutated, heavily so. It was thrice the size of a normal one, its sickly hide nearly devoid of fur, instead sporting jagged spikes and grotesque, pallid tumors.

Then there were the eyes, of which it had several more than it had any right to. All were beady, round, and ivory white. A total of six, all positioned in two rows on its forehead.

"Hideous, right?"

Helena
Ereven Theruvanen
Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar

 

[Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar]

The look of approval from the other knight did not go unnoticed. If the Knight-Captain was a Dawn, this man must have been her Dusk contemporary. He had heard many tales about their Order, which had nothing but awe surrounding it.

The fact that they had decided to help the townsfolk was proof of the valor of their kind and was something to be respected. Thankfully, his words had rung true for many and when he reached the gate all sorts of men and women were gathered there, ready to pitch in.

Leading them beyond the gate, several men would gather shovels, picks, and hoes and hand them out for work. Valdr would shed his cuirass and drape it over a nearby post so he too, could aid the efforts.

Whether by the resolve of the townsfolk or the grace of the gods, some time later would find a respectable trench nearing completion. The sounds of labor coming from within the village was enough to alert him to the preparations that were underway within. When the attack came, they would be as ready as they ever could be.

Of the villagers he had spoken to, five good men had decided they would fight for their homes: Ulf, Aethelstan, Njal, a gangly man named Kyp, and a mountain of a woman named Brynhildr. All had experience fighting and each received a shard from Valdr. They would be the more reliable of the warriors defending the village and he was thankful for their presence. Bryn and Ulf were siblings, with Njal being a long time friend of the pair. Aethelstan worked the bar and Kyp was a recent arrival to the village. As a whole, they kept the mood light, even with the mounting storm. The peace and the joy that had replaced the panic, would soon be replaced by chaos.

Ereven Theruvanen Helena Cahir

 

[Helena]

Helena nodded at the mention of the bear, noted the fine leather boots and the way in which he lorded over his work. "Most, but I am no stranger to mutations and corruption, master Giant, and you have my thanks and respect for having dispatched such a beast," she said with a bow of her head, and her horse trot in place, agitated by the sight. She whispered calm into its ear, and pet its neck. "I have little coin to offer you," she said as she took her purse, with a clutch of gold pieces and a handful of silver, and she tossed it at the giant. "But its yours, a bonus for your good work if nothing else."

She wheeled her horse about. "Time is precious, a truth I am sure you appreciate," she set her mouth into a grim line, and her eyes looked to the man with fierce determination. "So, what price must we pay to see you add your might to our cause?"

---

While the villagers gathered their strength and readied the field, Edelbert made his way to his horse, gathered his pack, and trekked out to the graveyard.

With a spade, he traced lines into the earth. Created a circle band, with circled runes and lines of ley that connected each in a pattern. He set black wax candles upon each circled rune, and when each node held a circle, he gathered earth in hand and let it slip through his fingers. Words most old and most dark spilled from his lips. A prayer, deep and shadowy. The candles caught fire, flames silver and bright, and Edelbert sat himself upon the center of the circle, eyes closed as he chanted a mantra most eldritch and wyrd.

---

Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar Cahir Ereven Theruvanen

---

 

[Cahir]

Helena nodded at the mention of the bear, noted the fine leather boots and the way in which he lorded over his work. "Most, but I am no stranger to mutations and corruption, master Giant, and you have my thanks and respect for having dispatched such a beast," she said with a bow of her head, and her horse trot in place, agitated by the sight. She whispered calm into its ear, and pet its neck. "I have little coin to offer you," she said as she took her purse, with a clutch of gold pieces and a handful of silver, and she tossed it at the giant. "But its yours, a bonus for your good work if nothing else."

She wheeled her horse about. "Time is precious, a truth I am sure you appreciate," she set her mouth into a grim line, and her eyes looked to the man with fierce determination. "So, what price must we pay to see you add your might to our cause?"

---

While the villagers gathered their strength and readied the field, Edelbert made his way to his horse, gathered his pack, and trekked out to the graveyard.

With a spade, he traced lines into the earth. Created a circle band, with circled runes and lines of ley that connected each in a pattern. He set black wax candles upon each circled rune, and when each node held a circle, he gathered earth in hand and let it slip through his fingers. Words most old and most dark spilled from his lips. A prayer, deep and shadowy. The candles caught fire, flames silver and bright, and Edelbert sat himself upon the center of the circle, eyes closed as he chanted a mantra most eldritch and wyrd.

---

Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar Cahir Ereven Theruvanen

---

Cahir's deft hand leapt forward and caught the bag in mid-flight. It was heavier than he had anticipated.

Hearing the metal coins clank and scrape against one another, the male weighed and threw it in the palm of his hand. There had to be a couple of dozen of them. It wasn't a large sum, and it was far less than the first contractor's offer.

"We'll see." Cahir undid the piece of string that kept the leather pouch closed. He peered inside, his fingers rummaging through the contents of the bag. Cahir withdrew his hand once he was pleased, taking a single gold coin with him.

Between the pads of his index and thumb, he clutched it hard.

"Real gold, not bad," he sniggered, inspecting the coin's engraving. It gleamed brightly in the midday sun, a bust of a man whose handsome visage he had never before seen.

"Still, I must politely decline your gracious offer. You are not the one who hired me, and as such, it'd be against my professional policy to accept such gifts. "

"That, and you don't seem well off financially."

Cahir tossed the now resealed pouch right back at her, not bothering to peel his gaze away from the single gold coin he had procured.

"But I will help you. If for no other reason but to quell my boredom. "

 

[Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar]

The trench would get completed and Valdr would let out a sigh as he wiped the sweat from his brow. Many hands made light work and by the gods, they were blessed with many hands. He would leave the Adventurers Five to don their armor and gather their gear for the coming fight while he entered the village to check the process.

Only half the houses had mud on their roofs, but the fact the Alehouse was already coated didn't go unnoticed. In fact, that had brought a smile to his lips. Returning to the trench, he would send back the workers to aid with mud and the gathering of water.

He would rest as much as he could before the fight.

Ereven Theruvanen Helena Cahir

 

[Helena]

Helena caught the pouch, coins jingled and clinked as the leather container smacked against her palm.

Briefly, her brow knit with question. But her mouth spread wide and hot with a flash of happy teeth. "Well, color me surprised, Master Giant," she started, and she tucked the purse away. "Not many mercenaries are known to be so generous," her horse whinnied, the sound almost triumphant. Helena pat the beast's neck, and nodded at the mercenary. "But I am glad to have you on our side, if only to quell your boredom. My name is Helena, Captain of the Knights of Anathaeum," she said, "and what might I call you, Master Giant?"

-----

Back in the village, Edelbert still sat amidst the graves, his black candles burned low, and their silver flames burned bright. His eyes were shut, and he drew in slow and steady breath.

To the world around him, there would only be a man sitting in a graveyard, but inside the Dusk Knight's mind there played a different scene, every bit if not more real than the one that would be seen by the light of the fading day.

In a space of swirling shadows and mist, a place that could only be reached through ritual and meditation, Edelbert did not sit, as his body did in the present, but stand between a council of pale figures, ethereal as morning mist before the bright burn of the sun.

"And why," one figure, helmed and mailed, with a thick surcoat. "Should we stand once more, Syr Edelbert? We have given our lives once for crown and country, we have fulfilled our duties in life! Have we not earned our rest?"

The other spirits gathered around muttered in agreement.

"I do not question this, Master Drand, and I would not call upon you were the need not great," Edelbert tried to persuade.

Drand settled down, and combed his goatee with forefinger and thumb. "Greater than our eternal slumber?" Some of the other ghosts chuckled at the dry delivery.

"Are not the lives of your progeny worth something?"

Mutters of question, whispers too and fro between the luminescent bodies.

"A warband comes, not for a lord's holdings, or the king's lands, but to burn the very village itself. To see it razed and pillaged, for little more than sport!" Edelbert challenged.

Drand, who seemed to be the figurehead of the ghostly band nodded as his ghostly digits stilled about his chin.

"I shall ask only once, and never again will you hear from me." The knight assured the spirits in that swirling space between the dead, the dreaming, and the awake.

---

Cahir Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar Ereven Theruvanen

 

[Cahir]

Helena caught the pouch, coins jingled and clinked as the leather container smacked against her palm.

Briefly, her brow knit with question. But her mouth spread wide and hot with a flash of happy teeth. "Well, color me surprised, Master Giant," she started, and she tucked the purse away. "Not many mercenaries are known to be so generous," her horse whinnied, the sound almost triumphant. Helena pat the beast's neck, and nodded at the mercenary. "But I am glad to have you on our side, if only to quell your boredom. My name is Helena, Captain of the Knights of Anathaeum," she said, "and what might I call you, Master Giant?"

-----
Cahir Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar Ereven Theruvanen

"The sentiment is mutual. It is seldom that I cross paths with such charming ladies in the middle of bum-fuck-nowhere. "

Cahir cackled dryly, fiddling with the piece of gold that looked awfully diminutive between his meaty digits. He snorted, bemused that she wanted to know his name. Cahir had to admit, hers wasn't half bad. That, and Helena was easy on the eyes despite all the armor she was trotting around in.

"Helena," he drawled wryly as the corners of his lips stretched into a vague, unreadable smile. "A pretty name for a pretty gal. Fitting. "

"I am Cahir, Cahir Koram Mekt, but you may address me by my first name only. We are, after all, acquaintances now."

It was, perhaps, the third time since they met that she called him a giant. His eyes flashed momentarily, annoyed, and their milky centers, now pinpricks, burned with an alabaster blaze. Cahir felt no particular kinship towards the giant-kind.

"Do not be deceived by my stature. I might be big, but I am no giant. In truth, there's little, if any, relationship between me and them. I'd prefer it to stay that way."

 

[Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar]

Once he felt refreshed and ready for what lie ahead, he would check on the progress and smiled to himself as the villagers seemed to rally together and complete their tasks. Any arrows that could be gathered lined the pathetic walks along the palisades, entry points were choked, roofs were smothered in mud, water drawn, and trench dug. All they had left was the battle.

Another dozen would join the other five warriors to stand at the gates with Valdr. The rest of the village were armed with pitchforks, scythes, and anything else they could get their hands on, though they remained in their homes or in the square.

The same religious elder would find Valdr. "Tell me, son. Do you think we can win this fight?"

His gaze would meet the elder. "Only the gods know that."

"But we have no milita, we have no Knights! Save your leader and the one desecrating our dead." The Elder looked exasperated.

Valdr fought the smirk forming on his lips. He would take the mistake, as well as the honor of being associated with the others. "No knights?" He would repeat before looking at those before the gate. "All of you.. kneel." He would take a few steps over to them, removing a gauntlet as each man and women dropped to a knee. "Be without fear in the face of your enemies. Be brave and upright so that the Gods may love thee. Speak the truth always, even if it leads to your death. Safeguard the helpless, do no wrong." His gaze washed over each of them. "That is your oath.." he would stop long enough to backhand Kyp. "And that, is so you remember it."

As those who knelt, rose with a look of exchanged awe, the Elder would nearly snap. "This is madness! Does making them a knight make them better fighters?!"

Valdr would glance from them to the Elder, as he pulled his winged helm on. "Yes. Take the women and children to safety.. or into the cellars."

Cahir Helena Ereven Theruvanen

 

[Helena]

Helena smirked. "Charming, as well as generous," she said with some sport in response to his wiles. "Remind me to take care around you, less I miss a sword stroke on account of your flattery," she nodded in response to his request, not missing the steel that gleamed there, white hot, in his eyes at his next utterance. "My mistake, and one I will see corrected." She bowed her head momentarily, deeply and with sincerity. She rose up in the seat of her saddle, and met his eyes once more.

"I have some work left to do in these woods, Master Cahir, and I aim to do it. One of our allies, an elven warrior, keen of eye and blade, suggest we may harry our foes in these woods, before they make for the village proper," she hopped off of the horse, and the young courser shook its head and trot some, still skittish on account of the dead and mutated beast. Helena was sure the imposing figure of Cahir did little to help the creature find its mettle, but a few whispered words and a calm touch eased its restlessness once more. "You are welcome to accompany me while I set to it, otherwise," she motioned toward the village with her head as she walked about the woods, easy and confident in her stride. She was no stranger to the wilds. "I'm sure the others would like to know you've joined our cause," she said with some sweetness.

She would pace to an old and massive tree, draw her blade, and kneel before the old growth, close her eyes and bow her head as if in prayer. In that space unseen, her magick wove with that most natural and ancient magick of the tree, she felt its deep roots tangle through the earth, the spread of its branches and the flutter of the leaves. Her prayer went on, and the tree slowly lent its magick to her.

With the forest's blessing, she would set traps. Trace rune circles in the earth with the point of her sword, they would glow a feint green before they became inert, and she would commune with the small birds and critters of the forest. Her great wolf would show itself, if only for a moment before it dissapeared again, and as the sun began to set, and her energies began to fade, she would make back for the village.

The woods would have many a surprise in them for any unsuspecting intruder. Tangle traps and hostile swarms of critters would slow them down, and wild eyes would spot any forward scouts before her own could ever hope to.

---

"You do well in inspiring them," would come the voice of Edelbert from behind the shining knight who had done so much to fortify the village. "I am Syr Edeldbert," he said with a tired pride. His eyes closed and he bowed his head to the young man. "Desecrater of dead, and Knight Pursuant of Dusk," he would hear the man before his eyes wandered off to inspect the simple place they would bleed and likely die for. If not them who were trained and capable, then many of those who had toiled to prepare their homes for the horrors to come. "I don't know about you, but I enjoy a nice flagon of ale before I get ready to face my maker," he smirked at the other man, and nodded toward the mud caked ale house. "Think they have anything worth drinking?"

---

Rangvaldr Tal'deneshaar Cahir Last Origin