Fable - Ask Rivalries

[Monty]

She blinked. Did he just...snap those chains himself? The orc's axe surely weakened them...she pressed against the hollow with him. Breath catching as her chest heaved. She held her breath a moment as the orcs roared past. Amber-eyes settled on the man as if to silently measure him.

If he fooled her again...he'd certainly regret it. The silent look she gave him said as much, too. Fingers unsheathed that dagger from earlier and she held it out to him. She palmed another into her own hand. One of the orcs slowed and sniffed at the air.

"Wait-aminute," it snarled and turned, eyes locking on them. "Der!"

 

[Ashyr]

Ashyr grabbed the dagger, slipping it into his palm as the other hand began to drag on his boots.

He'd just gotten the second one on his foot when suddenly the orc barked out his command. Ashyr glanced up just in time to see two of the green creatures turn, their heads arching directly towards where Monty and the Templar had stuck themselves.

A curse escaped his lips. "That way."

He hissed at the Ranger as he shoved her to the left.

"Go!" Ashyr was almost sure that Monty would know this place better than him, but that didn't really matter. Right now he was just trying to stop her from trying to fight the Orcs. They were outnumbered, outmatched.

An arrow struck the tree where he had been standing, Ashyr letting out another curse as he broke into a spring. "Towards that river!"

He called as he heard the sound of rushing water.

 

[Monty]

"They're just two of them," an incredulous grunt at his insistence on running. An arrow whizzed by her ear and she swore. She sheathed her knife again. No use running with one out to stab herself with if she tripped or fell.

"We'll be trapped this way!" She grunted and pumped her legs. it was all a big drop off to gorge with a rushing river beneath it. And whether or not the orcs knew it, they were herding them that way all the same. She craned her neck, trying to see if it was worth it to climb a tree.

No, the orcs were too close. They'd just be trapped up there. The trees began to thin as they approached the rocky ledge. She skidded to a stop as small rocks spun over the edge and down into the rushing waters below.

Her back turned to the river.

"We'll have to make our stand here," she huffed.

 

[Ashyr]

The Templar looked back towards the Orcs.

It was two of them, for now, but he had fought enough of them to know that the numbers hardly stopped where you wanted them to. There were always more. While it was two orcs now, in the beat of a heart it would be five.

"Fuck." Ashyr said with a grimace. "Fuck."

He wouldn't do it. Not again.

The Templar didn't know how he'd died the first time, didn't know how he'd been brought back either. He wouldn't risk it though. Not now, not ever again. His hand wrapped around Monty as she turned back, and then without a second more he pulled her up off her feet.

Then he leaped off the cliff and into the waters below.

 

[Monty]

"HEYwhattheFUUUUUUUUUUUUUuuuuuuuuuuuu," she yelled as the insane man dragged her off the ledge with him. A black-shafted arrow flew through the air they just vacated. The cold white-water jumped up to meet them, consuming the pair within the spring-melt from the mountains.

OHSHITITWASCOLD

She clawed her way to the surface as the current swept them downriver. A grunt left her mouth as a rock slammed into her back. Her hand tugged on the Templar. This was his damn fault so there was no way in hell she was letting him drown before she could beat the snot out of him.

"Grab a branch!" She yelled. Something. ANYTHING.

 

[Ashyr]

Had he been wearing his plate he would have already drowned.

Quietly he was thankful that he'd gotten rid of it, even though he mourned it's loss. He heard the Ranger calling over the sound of the rushing water, his head kept above the waves by powerful strokes of his arms. No panic set into his heart, and the cold of the waters around him seemed almost...dulled.

He didn't know why, couldn't explain it.

It was as though something were different. He wanted to live. To survive, but that same drive of mortality had somehow shifted. He looked up onto the cliffs above, watched as one of the Orcs stood on the edge and peered down at them.

They had to stay in the water, for a little longer at least. "Keep your head up!"

He called to her.

"We have to get further down river!" Far enough that the Orcs couldn't follow.

 

[Monty]

Tawny eyes looked upward. Another wave of water sloshed over her head. She sputtered and coughed, trying to maneuver her body into a better position with her feet pointing downstream. Trying to keep floating on her back. She was soaked and wet but not as cold as she should've been.

They wouldn't be able to get to the bank anyway. The rapids were too swift. And soon those orcs above were long behind them. She had to fight to keep her head above water and to keep floating. Her clothes and boots. Everything was heavy in the water and wanted to drag her down.

"There," she sputtered and began to swim toward the right bank. The water was calming and it looked like a small, pebbled beach.

 

[Ashyr]

By the time they reached the beach even Ashyrs muscles had begun to ache.

A dull throb ruptured through his arms as he pulled himself onto the sandy shore, his head glancing up almost immediately out of a deeply instilled paranoia. The Templar have expected another clutch of orcs to be standing at the forests rim, but when he searched Ashyr found no sound presence.

Much to his relief.

A sigh escaped him as he threw himself down onto the sands, the dagger Monty had given him slipped and hidden away in his boots out of her sight.

He allowed himself a moments rest, just a moment.

Ashyr did not know the Orcs of the Reach, but I'd they were anything like their cousins from the Steppe then they would not cease their hunt until they'd found everything they were searching for.

 

[Monty]

Teeth were chattering. She was fuking cold. And she knew a fire wouldn't be able to warm her up. She forced herself to stand as she pushed herself up from the sandy-pebbled beach she'd crawled onto. Jacket went off first as she slapped the wet material onto a nice wide-rock. Then she sat on that rock and peeled off her boots, dumping the water out.

"I-I nee-eed to dry my clothes," she chattered. Hand pressed against the scarred-side of her face, sweeping her wet red locks back. Fingers flexed at her sides as she balanced on the rocks barefoot to go in search of firewood. She knew a fire wouldn't help her to warm up but it would dry her clothes. And that would help her warm up.

At least it was sunny at the moment.

 

[Ashyr]

Ashyr didn't seem to be plagued by the same cold, and in truth, he really wasn't.

The river was freezing, he knew that, but...it just didn't seem to touch him in the same way that it did her. Not even a shiver ran down his spine as he slowly pushed himself off the ground and glanced up towards where Monty had perched herself.

"We'll need a fire." He said with a grimace. "But not here."

He was sure that the Ranger would know that.

Ashyr had never operated in the Reach, but he knew enough about Orcs to testify of their voracity. "We'll head off the river."

The Templar said as he pulled himself to his feet.

"Gather what we need on the way, yeah?" He said, another weary glance shot up the way they had come.

 

[Monty]

"Not here," she agreed and peeled her jacket off the rock. Then scooped up her boots, tugging them back on as she hopped on each foot to do so. She wasn't as worried about the orcs as he was. She knew she...probably should be. But she was used to facing them.

Worse than them.

She was more worried about the others, especially the recruits. Now they were leaderless and running for their lives. She knew the General would chew her out for this one even if it hadn't been her fault. She'd lead the way deeper into the woods.

"There might be an old hunter's cabin back here, actually. Not much but it would be a roof over our heads for the night. And the protection of some walls." Even if they were nearly shot to hell. If they were where she thought they were in these woods. Her teeth were chattering. Perhaps moreso than normal. "How're you not cold right now?" Tawny-eyes glanced at him sideways as she pushed through a thicket of blackberry bushes.

 

[Ashyr]

The question made him bristle slightly, mostly because he didn't have an answer. Ashyr still didn't grasp the ramifications of...of what he was now. He felt like an echo of a human being, something that should have been normal but just wasn't.

A shrug rolled over his shoulders. "Guess Templar training is just better."

That wasn't a lie, at least not to his own mind. He believed the words as strongly as a man saying that the ocean was blue, though of course that wasn't the whole of the story.

"Lets find that cabin." He told her, trying to shift the subject.

She knew these lands better, it would be best to follow her words. His steps quickly fell in behind her, moving along her path and letting the bushes press to the side as they moved. "We need to be careful."

His hands flickered slightly, shaking.

 

[Monty]

"I'm wondering if I should be more careful of you or of them," she cast a look over her shoulder at him. "And I doubt the Templar training is better. Me being cold has nothing to do with...," voice trailed off. She didn't want to say. HE of all folk would most certainly not understand.

She had to wonder if he saw magic if his instincts would still kick in to try and burn her at the stake or something.

Gods-damned prideful bigots.

"Never understood how or why your kind could just hate anyone who used magic. Times change and if you don't change with them you'll be on the wrong side of history."

The blackberry pushes broke into the pine-trees. Weaving through them, she kneeled down once to study the ground. Satisfied, she slightly changed their direction through an unseen path. Soon enough, they exited to the smallest of clearings and a derelict cabin nestled in the small, open space.

 

[Ashyr]

"Apparently there's a lot of things you don't understand." Ashyr commented cooly as the cabin came into view.

In truth, he couldn't blame her for thinking such things about the Templar. A few hundred years ago it had been true, but there was a reason that the Order had fractured into a thousand different chapters. Disagreement and arguments about magic had been one of the chief causes of what was now called the fracture.

The last Templar War had happened when a hardline faction of the Order had decided to try and conquer the Reach to wipe out all mages and sorcerers within it's expanse. The decision was what caused the fracture, and thousands of Templar all over Arethil had broken away to form their own orders.

Ashyr's own Chapter was one of those that broke away.

As a matter of survival the Greywatch did not hate mages. They were weary of it, yes, thought it should be controlled, but a Sorcerer would not meet his end at the hand of him or one of his brothers unless they had meddled within the dark arts.

Though of course what was true for one Chapter, was not always true for the next. "Not too shabby, really."

Ashyr commented as they approached the cabin.

 

[Monty]

A lofted rusty brow. A glance over her shoulder. “Enlighten me then,” she mused. There was probably a lot he didn’t understand as well. At least she could admit it. Disappearing into the woods, she began gathering a bundle of dry wood.

Still shivering, she quickly returned to meet him inside the cabin.

 

[Ashyr]

The cabin door wasn't easy to pry open, the lock had all but rotted away and it seemed the damn place was falling apart.

A thin layer of dust covered everything, but it seemed that the place was mostly intact. If he had to guess he would have said no one had been here in years, and it was likely one of those things that sat on a list of contingencies that no one ever expected would have to be used.

By the time Monty returned Ashyr had managed to go through most of the place.

He found a few weapons, some clothes, and even a bit of hard tack which the nice hadn't gotten to yet. All in all it was a win, if not a very large one. At least they were better off now though than they had been before. "Templar aren't a singular Order anymore."

He told her simply.

"There are hundreds of chapters nowm" Ashyr went on. "Each with their own codes, creeds, and scribe."

 

[Monty]

“Okay,” she dumped the woods into the fire place. Boots were peeled off. Her jacket doing over a rickety chair back. Squatting next to the fire, she blocked his view of it as she pretended to start it with a fire-starter. Instead, fire shot from her fingers to the tinder.

“so what’s your chapter about? And how do you get along with all those who don’t follow your chapter’s rules?”

Standing, trembling fingers began unstrapping her felt. Unbuttoning her wet shirt.

“Don’t get excited,” she called dryly over her shoulder, going to strip down to her wet under things and hanging her clothes near the fire.

 

[Ashyr]

"We don't." He answered with a simple shrug, avoiding the question of his own chapter. It was not something he was interested in answering. The Greywatch was better left unexplained, particularly given their nature.

The less people knew the better.

"Some Chapters are still at war today." Ashyr said with a shrug. "It's just less noticeable."

Their numbers had long ago gone from hundreds of thousands to just a few hundred. A mark of just how badly the Templar War had actually struck the Order. "It's only recently that some of the Chapters have come together again."

He mused.

"Lead by the Broken Sword of Alliria." The Greywatch had heard the rumors of course, but had rejected advances of the new Alliance. "They have worked hard at being...welcoming."

The Templar said with a frown, looking away as Monty began to address.

It was only polite.

 

[Monty]

Walking to the bed, she picked up a blanket covered with dust and half eaten by gods knew what. Shaking it out with a grimace, she wrapped it around herself and sat on the edge of the bed. Her clothes were strung up by the fire.

They'd be dry in the next few hours.

"What's your chapter like?" Head cocked to the side, curiosity written all over her scarred-face. She repeated the question, choosing not to comment about how fantastical it sounded to be united by some sword. Broken at that. She had to also wonder if for the greater good of Alliria the Rangers and the Templar, at least not the psycho-crazy-ass chapters who hated all magic, would even ban together.

 

[Ashyr]

He frowned for a moment, but ultimately decided that the truth wouldn't be too harmful.

It was information she could easily gathering her own. He was certain that the Rangers knew somewhere, and rumors in a town would eventually swirl anyway. The Greywatch was secretive, but not to the point of paranoia. At least not anymore.

"We are keepers." He explained.

"We safeguard and collect dangerous artifacts." The White Ravens had their tight grip upon the knowledge of the world. Books and texts that might threaten innocence. His brothers guarded the more corporeal. Staves that summoned the dead. Amulets that placed curses. "When the last war broke out we closed the gates of our great fortress's to ensure no man or woman could claim what we hold."

An oath that still remained fulfilled.

 

[Monty]

“So you’re kind of like librarians for magical artifacts that can never be checked out,” she said. She was just relieved he wasn’t going to try and tar and feather her if he found out she could use magic. “Why’re you not with your group then? Stealing bread in a place patrolled by rangers?”

She wrapped the blanket tightly around her form. Wishing her clothes would dry faster. The flickering light of the fire made the scars on the one side of her face standout more. She had to get back to her unit. They are half recruits and she was worried about him.

The question remained in what she would do about this Templar. She hoped she wouldnt have to kill him.

 

[Ashyr]

It was an apt enough comparison, if simple. He frowned for a moment as he looked towards the fire.

The question she asked was not one he would, or even really could answer. He still wasn't entirely sure what the answer was himself. A frown touched his lips for a few moments. Fingers rubbed gently over his knuckles, his shaking as he shrugged his shoulders. "I don't know."

Ashyr told her truthfully.

"I woke up in a clearing." He admitted. "By myself."

The Templar did not mention what he remembered before he'd woken up. Did not mention that he could still recall the blade running through his gullet. That he could recall dying, the wall of white, the open gates to the abyss. He could remember it all.

But he would not say.