Fable - Ask Steps of Faith

[Aeyliea]

"I'm telling you, damned savages cannot be trusted," said one wagon driver to another. He was careful not to point or gesture toward the topic of their conversation, long running over the course of multiple days. Their subject remained unaware of the conversation, and that was likely a good thing for the pair. The second driver shook her head, rusty hair flying as she did. "You think they going to put the fox in charge of the coop, Drevor? You're a mistrustful idiot."

Aeyliea leaned against the wooden post holding the roof up over the porch of the general store of Stray. Today was a moody day, the sun hidden behind thick grey clouds that threatened to bring rain - or maybe snow, given the chill in the air. Most likely rain, though. It was too early in the year for the first frigid blasts to pound their way across the Sea , but it was no longer oppressively hot. Barely even warm, when it came to it. The wind blowing out of the north kicked up dust in skirls of grit that peppered her face and that of the dozens of people out and about on this frontier town.

The wagons and carts were lined up in the street, the caravanserai idle as the final preparations were mode to move. Wagons loaded with textiles, dyes, silks, and spices; leathers and iron and copper ingots that weighed the wagons down til the axles creaked. As unremarkable a shipment of goods as there ever was, with as unremarkable an assortment of people tending wagons and standing guard. Most of the drivers were human with the odd orc or elf thrown in - drivers, with a handful of the merchants whose goods were in transport. Those worthies were easy to pick out by their brighter, more finely crafted clothes.

Also the fact that they lifted not one finger to help with anything.

The No'rei snorted as she looked at the group. A dozen wagons and a handful of carts, their teams hitched and ready to roll out. She was but one of ten that had been hired on to protect the group. Had she been fluent in common, she might have laughed aloud at the drovers' conversation, and mostly because it was true. The Sundered were right to be afraid of the faithful, after all. Ten thousand years could not erase the memory of their betrayal, and the thirst for vengeance still burned within the People to this day.

In fact, nothing would have suited her better than to slaughter the entire lot of them. Only one thing held her from doing so...the ghostly images that danced in her head, and the even more tenuous voice that seemed to echo down through the ages. Coupled with the strange weather and events that sought to prevent her westward travel, and she had been left with little choice.

The concept of a contract was wasted on her. The pay they offered her - round bits of metal with images stamped into them - meant even less, nevermind the fact that they had paid her as much as they would pay one of the carters to drive a wagon, but in the capacity of sticking her neck out to defend the 'van from raiders. It had been easy to take advantage of her, and the 'van master knew it. Knew there was some reason he was even approached by one such as she in the first place.

The No'rei did not treat with outsiders. Why, then, this one?

"You sure that going to be enough, woman?" She looked away from the wagons and the people attending them to one of the other guards. A komodo, the man towered over her, the scales on his body far more widespread than the smattering on her arms. Though their ancestry might be similar, far enough back, the faithful still considered the wandering Komodi to be Sundered like the rest outside the Sea. "Won't stop an arrow, that," he added.

She shrugged. She only understood one word in three, but the body language was easily understood. The 'van guard thought leather trousers and a leather jerkin with itchy wool undershirt were not enough protection. The fellow did not, however, take into account the assortment of charms and focuses she carried about her person. Her flowing white hair she had braided loosely, and had incorporated the feathers of raven and hawk, the bones of small animals, and beads fashioned from pretty stones in a broad assortment of colors. They were not the best offerings, but since the Aniri had taken all of her proper artifacts from her months before, they would serve.

She had an unstrung horn bow on her back, and a short stabbing spear as well as a bullhide buckler. At first glance it would appear impossible that she could wield such; her left arm, wrapped in cloth so that none of her flesh showed, was nevertheless misshapen, the fingers on that hand cruelly hook. She did very little with it, and mostly seemed to try to hide it from others as it detracted from the rather exotic beauty it was clear she knew she had. Of middling height, with skin a burnished bronze and eyes and scales of grey-blue stone, hard as the mountains themselves, she cut an imposing figure. "The Seven all needed," she replied brusquely, those ice-cold eyes locking with his.

The Komodo was used to her stand-offishness by this point, though. It had been three days since hiring, and on the eve of their departure he had already been rebuffed by her on several occasions. "Suit yourself," he said, and shrugged. "We'll be gone, soon. Get ready," he said, and then walked off.

To which she said nothing.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Odd lot they'd assembled, Garrod found himself thinking, sitting in the back of one of the fully loaded wagons. Some almonds poked out from a hole a mouse had chewed threw in the burlap sack that held them all together, and to those few almonds that had spilled out, Garrod helped himself. Better him than another mouse.

His greatsword rested at his shoulder. Not that he thought he would need it much on a job like this. But, you never really knew when a monster would pop out of the brush. And what a beasty it would be, to attack a caravan as large as this one.

No, the real trouble came with raiders and bandits. Some war band from some lord or chieftain, desperate and hungry for supplies. It was for those dangers that Garrod came ready. An arming sword, a round shield, and a crossbow. All packed up and rested beside him. There were a stack of bolts bundled there too. No need to put it all on when they hadn't even hit the road yet. That went for Belephus too. The bone-white gauntlet was snuggly packed away in his supplies.

"Oy, you just resting about again I see," One of the drivers stated. Garrod had come to know him as Jeoff. "Well, we ain't payin you to sit about you know?"

Garrod fixed his lone green eye on the man, and smiled a tired smile. "No, you are paying me to keep you safe," He took some more of the almonds out from the hole in the sack. Popped them into his mouth and chewed. "Far as I can tell, you look pretty safe."

"Pah," the round and mustachioed man spat. "No thanks to you, ye lay-about."

"And certainly not thanks to you," Garrod added, and popped another almond into his mouth.

Jeoff turned red in the face. "Well, ye smart ass, ye best get ready! We start rolling soon."

Garrod leaned back and used the almond sack as a rest. He nodded, and made a show as he closed his eye and stretched out. "Sounds good to me."

"Bloody mercenary," Jeoff cursed and turned away. "At least stop picking at the merchandise, you scoundrel!" He chided as he stormed off.

Garrod peaked out from behind his closed eye, smug smile on his face.

"Going to get a pay cut if you keep that up," came a voice from behind the cart.

Garrod rose up to regard the newcomer. He found a loosely robed archer standing relaxed in the blue-grey light that refracted through the storm clouds. Still, she looked ready enough to draw and string and fire at a moments notice. "I ain't hurting that much for the coin," He said with a smirk. "More interested in the ride."

She laughed. "Why not do it for charity then?"

Garrod shrugged. "Because a few coins never hurt."

"Ah, isn't that the truth," she nodded to him, and hopped up in the wagon. She settled down across from him, and set her bow beside her. "The name is Amila," She offered.

"Garrod," he returned.

 

[Aeyliea]

"Get those damned beasts moving," came a hoarse shout from somewhere up the line of wagons, and the sharp crack of a whip followed soon after. The No'rei stirred, interest finally sparked in her eyes whereas nothing had seemed to kindle them in the prior days. The 'van master had finally exited the local watering-hole, still shrugging into a leather jacket that bore more than its fair share of stains. The man was as tall as they came - easily seven feet, and despite the absolutely epic amount of beer the man drank of an evening, he was still slender as a blade, deadly as one and with a temper to match.

He looked down the line with a scowl, and a visible shiver ran among the carters as his eyes touched upon each, each grabbing rein or whip and waiting for the vehicle in front of them to creak into motion, the ones already moving kicking up a bit of dust that the wind readily ripped away. The sell-swords didn't so much as flinch at that gaze.

Neither did she.

Some of the others were mounted, but she preferred her feet for this work. That, and trading was required for horseflesh. It was generally frowned upon by the locals to gut someone for their horse, and so she had uncharacteristically refrained from just taking what she wanted from the weak-kneed citizens of Stray.

She stepped off the porch and strode along the outside edge of the wagons that had not moved. The carters did not treat her in the same way they did the sword-and-bows; a hopeful grin from one youthful carter was the best she got, while many in her sight simply looked at her warily. Behind her back, their looks were darker and more mistrustful, and the Seer seemed to be oblivious to the sentiment running among the workers of the caravan.

"Finally decide to join us," the Komodo from earlier said as she came abreast him. He did not have a mount, either, and his tail flicked about a little. "It is well," he said.

She shrugged. "No good, eat dust," the spear-wielder remarked. There was no friendliness on her face, only serious observation. She looked to the heavens and scowled at the grey overhead. "The Seven, not smile on us," she said, and made a gesture with her hands - an intricate warding of the evil eye. She touched one of the feathers in her hair afterwards, and offered up some cryptic words in her native tongue, to which the komodo raised an eyebrow to and said nothing of.

"You have not worked as a guard before, have you?" He half asked, half remarked. She shrugged in answer. It should have been obvious that she hadn't; for one thing, her people were not known for their willingness to work with outsiders. "You don't seem like any of the others I have met, before."

"Others?" She asked. In response, he simply indicated the scales on her arms, and the markings on her neck. "Others," he said, and shrugged. "The No'rien, you call yourselves. Children of the Moon, or something like it."

"No'rei," she corrected, and he laughed.

"Whatever. Savage fighters, but too up-tight most of the time." The words were too fast for her to follow, and so she said nothing. The pair came up alongside two others tasked with keeping the 'van in one piece. The komodo greeted them with a raised hand, casting a sidelong look at the noble savage beside him.

"Garrod and Amila, was it?" he said as he came abreast of them. "Couldn't help but overhear," he added. He looked down the line at the others, but the over guards were in their own personal worlds, mounted or seated on wagons that were even now lurching into motion. "Kerr is the name," he offered, and then gestured to the white-haired spearwoman. Aeyliea said nothing, and he barked a laugh and shrugged.

"Hopefully we can make some ground today. Hopefully the weather holds off - muddy roads are the worst."

The No'rei sniffed. "No rain," she said, her thick accent making it difficult to discern what she was saying. "Tonight, maybe," she added, and shrugged.

"Well, one day staying dry then," he said in reply.

 

[Igni Ymaranath Ythys]

One of the carriages in the convoy was a passenger coach, in which sat an exceptionally wide young woman. Igni lounged on a seat made especially for her, gazing with one elbow on the windowsill, watching the world slip by.

She was dressed in richly coloured clothing, draping off her large frame quite elegantly, despite her size. That said she still hated riding in carriages, for the way they bounced around on gravel roads made her body bounce around, too. She constantly had to adjust herself so she did not fall off her cushioned seat.

Opposite her sat a much smaller lady, Merina, frowning with concern at Igni's apparent discomfort. "Can I help with anything, my lady?" she said.

"No need," Igni replied. What would she have her do? Perhaps she should have worn a corset, or something more supporting. But being stuffed into clothing for which she clearly was not built didn't make it any more comfortable.

She could use her magic and fly, but that required a different kind of effort. And, it had a tendency to draw lots of attention. Attention she didn't really feel like, at this moment. Usually she rode in convoys to enjoy the company, but there was only Merina here. A pleasant lady, but she wanted to meet new people.

So she gazed wistfully out the window at the mercenary guards on horseback, and others walking, talking, and was a little jealous she could not go out there and meet them without slowing the convoy down.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"Well met, Ker," Amila replied, nodding her head toward the large horned man.

Garrod closed his eye, and nodded in agreement. "It does look like the rain will fall tonight, doesn't it."

Amila shot the lay-about a glance, her brown eyes sharp as she smirked at him. "You agree with... her?"

"If it's too warm during the day, only makes sense for it to pour come nightfall," he added.

Amila looked over at the short woman with the shock of white hair. Then back at Garrod, also of white hair. "Are you No'Rei?"

"I'm a sellsword," he replied with a smirk. "Hell if i know what I am." He opened his eye, but made no effort to show any effort in attempting to get up, lounged as he was. "But I do know I also hate fighting in the mud."

Amila laughed, and whatever tension she'd built up eased some as the caravan bounced along. "Well, its not so much the mud that does me in, as it is the wind and the rain." she closed an eye and mimed aiming an arrow, pulling back and letting fly. Her hand flew forward, only to veer off course and crash into her other with a clap. "Makes it harder to hit the mark."

"Long as you don't hit me, Kerr or..." He worked himself to sit upright, and nodded toward the short one. "What's your name, No'Rei?"

 

[Aeyliea]

She could not follow the thread of their speech; they spoke to fast. Far, far too fast for her weak grasp of the trader's tongue to allow her to keep pace. Instead, she walked along in sullen silence, radiating an air of discontent that was hard to miss. Even harder to understand, at least for the 'companions' that walked along with her.

No bond between them. Just Sundered souls sharing the road, if not each others company, for a purpose.

She blinked when she was addressed, looked to the man with hard eyes. "Is of...no...no...," she began, searching for a word that she did not come to her, or she simply did not know. Her face reddened in frustration and not a small amount of anger, and she broke off in a stream of her own native tongue, cursing the skies back to being blue again. It didn't work, and her attempt at misdirection didn't, either. She pointed to the tattoos on her neck, elegant lines in blue-black ink descrying some fanciful, if simplistic shape. "Aeyliea," she said, though it sounded as though she were talking to a small child.

It wasn't as if her name wasn't tattooed on her neck.

She sneered at the comment from the archer, but said nothing. The woman would obviously not do well out on the Sea. But, then, most would not do well out on the Sea. It was a hard place to live.

They came alongside the carriage - the one and only like it, among the wagons and carts - without Aeyliea adding anything further to the conversation.

"Savage's hair is black almost exclusively," Kerr said to the archer, and laughed. "Apparently some muddy water in that family tree," he said, and grinned at Aeyliea. It wasn't as though he was going to be intimidated by the No'rei, however scrappy she might be. He outweighed her by quite a fair margin. "Strange to see one of em here, all the same."

 

[Igni Ymaranath Ythys]

"Aeyliea's a pretty name," Igni said, mostly to herself. But it was loud enough for the others to hear. She met the fierce little woman's eyes for a moment, then offered a smile back. Up to her how she accepted it.

"Should it rain, we can fit two more in my carriage," she said, louder this time. At a stretch they could probably fit three, though the one that squeezed in beside Igni ought not to take up too much space.

Merina looked a little horrified at the prospect of sharing their carriage with the mercenaries, though Igni raised her eyebrows at her. "Just that it may not be safe," Merina offered, quietly.

"I'll be fine," Igni said.

"I meant for me."

"You'll be fine too. I'll see to it," Igni said.

Merina lowered her eyes, partially in thanks partially in submission, perhaps. Though she still looked a little frustrated.

"Apparently some muddy water in that family tree,"

Igni narrowed her eyes.

"That's not very nice," she said. When her more regular company spoke of mud in the blood, it was usually a means of derision. "Do you so value purity, or is it just a turn of phrase to you?"

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod nodded in agreement with the woman who spoke out from the carriage. Fancy thing that, a carriage in a caravan. Looked well enough appointed at that.

"Aye, best be polite to our fellow mercenary, Kerr, no need to insult someone on account of where they hail from, there's plenty of mud in my water, but I bet you'll be glad to have me around once the blood starts spilling," he said with a pointed stare at the komodo man. He turned his eye onto the small and fierce looking spear-fighter, and welcomed her with a nod from his lazy perch in the wagon cart. When he spoke again, he spoke in an easier cadence, a softness to his voice, a longer lilt to its rhythm. "Well met, Aeyliea," he jabbed a thumb at his chest and repeated his introduction, "I am Garrod."

Amila looked hesitant, but followed her fellow mercenary's lead. "I am Amila," she said, and nodded toward Aeyliea.

"It's not uncommon to work with folk who can't speak common," Garrod said to all around. His voice steady and measured in its cadence. "And if we hope to keep each other alive when raiders come hounding, well, we best be able to talk to one another."

A slow nod, a mix of realization and agreement, came for the archer woman.

Garrod turned his eye toward the carriage. "And what of you, kind lady?" He looked over the wagon wall with his one eye. "You offer us shelter, but what of your name?"

 

[Aeyliea]

Their coarse tongue was difficult to follow, not least of all because she had difficulty picking out one word in three. The Seer bristled at the friendliness of the Sundered warriors, unable to respond in the manner she would prefer to.

Which was to say she wanted to kill all of them right then. They were Sundered, after all; children of the Seven's betrayers. Neither shelter nor water would be afforded them, were they within her own tribe's territory. The best they could hope for was a swift death, and not the imaginative ways some of the more sadistic among the No'rei preferred to offer their sacrifices to the Seven. Even being in close proximity to them was a test almost beyond her capacity to handle.

Kerr, oblivious to the frosty attention he was receiving, simply laughed. "Don't care 'bout purity anymore'n I care about class, woman," he said roughly - roughly, but not unkindly. His tail twitched in amusement. "She don't need you to protect her honor, though."

He laughed hugely at that, even if it was only to himself. He, at least, had dealt with the people of the plains before and knew better than they the savage ferocity that they showed towards others.

<<"Raiders will find aught but my spear in their throat,">> she growled in her own native tongue, the language musical and flowing like the wind across the plains. "Much distance, much walk," she said noncommittally. She had no idea that the woman had offered a seat in the carriage in case of foul weather, and would not have accepted it even if she did know. She wanted much and more to be ride of the Sundered and to be back among her own people properly.

If only the Seven had the same desire, and that one solitary spirit had not made it known that there were other things she must do.

 

[Igni Ymaranath Ythys]

"Don't care 'bout purity anymore'n I care about class, woman," he said roughly - roughly, but not unkindly. His tail twitched in amusement. "She don't need you to protect her honor, though."

"Indeed she does not," Igni said, regarding the small, fierce girl again. Then glanced over to Amila. "Though, it is always wise for travelling women to stick together."

"And what of you, kind lady?" He looked over the wagon wall with his one eye. "You offer us shelter, but what of your name?"

At this Merina shuffled closer to the adjacent window.

"You are speaking with Lady Ithys, a merchant of Alliria, and daughter of the king of dragons in the place you call The Spine," she said.

"A pleasure to meet you all. Even you, scaly one," she said, giving the komodo a wryful grin. "I, too, only give so much attention to class. Usually when it's to my advantage.
"That said, where I am from class is only worth as much as it can buy in coin." She looked thoughtful for a moment. "So, to all of you, you may each have a bonus of twenty silver pieces at the end of this journey for every traveler in our caravan who makes it to their destination alive and well. Both merchant, mercenary or otherwise."

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Garrod blinked, eye wide with disbelief.

"Daughter of the dragon king?!" Amilla exclaimed. "That... What.." She looked at the woman in the carriage, an then at the rest of their party, and all those around. "Why would you be here, then?" She asked as she still tried to make sense of this information.

Garrod smiled, wide and cat like. "A pleasure as well, my lady," he bowed his head low to her, doing his best to mind his manners. Never knew what opportunities arose when you made a good impression on the right person. "And I will do my best to earn as big a purse as possible, don't you doubt that." He added, and sat up from his lounging lean.

Amilla smirked, and nodded. "Aye, you'll have my finest shots protecting our van, Lady Ithys."

Was there any better way to motivate mercenaries than with the promise of more coin?

 

[Aeyliea]

Too fast, they all talked to fast in their thick, coarse language. The No'rei struggled to pick one word in five out - at the best of times - and these were not those. She would have laughed in scorn at the idea of more coin for the work being done, had she understood what it was that Igni was offering; coin was a thing that she and hers considered unimportant. It could not buy anything that was worthwhile.

The only things that were worthwhile were the bounty that the Seven could offer, and that could only be obtained through following the ancient rites and keeping as closely to the old ways as possible. Her even being here among the tainted people from beyond the Sea was tantamount to a religious crime in and of itself...

...were it not for the voice. Were it not for the plaintive, archaic and cryptic demand made of her in exchange for the piece of power that resided in her even now.

She did raise an eyebrow at the thought of the enormous woman in the carriage being a dragon. Her own people were akin to those scaly beasts of yore, and there was simply no comparison between the majesty of the Seven and this woman. She offered no rebuke, though.

She offered little, in fact. There was nothing to say to these souls, bound to her by expedience and little else.

"Don't care what you bloody sell-swords do, so long as we get where we are bound," said the 'van master as he came upon them. Any opportunity to offer a response was shut down by his moving on almost as quickly as he arrived.

Aeyliea remained on her own two feet that day.

***
And for the next several weeks.

***

The scenery did not change much on the journey. The flat plains that they had started on had slowly evolved into low rolling hills, draws cut by the seasonal streams making heavy going for the draft animals whenever they had to cross one of them. Despite the incredible number of these streams, they had to contend with not a single crossing. The rains had long since passed, and an entire summer of brutal heat had already turned the land sere and brown.

This was Aeyliea's country, though. This was where she had been raised - if not immediately local, then in an approximation of this.

For weeks, she had kept mostly to herself, rebuffing most attempts to get closer to her. She was here for a reason, and only for that reason; the companions she traveled with, she cared little for. It would be easier for her if she avoided becoming entangled in any webs of honor, of obligation to stay her hand when the time finally came to slaughter them all - an offering to the Seven.

This evening was little different than any of the others. The sun was still in the sky, albeit only a few hours remained until it would set. The 'van master had already drawn the wagons - most a little more worn, with bits replaced as they broke crossing this harsh land - into some semblance of a circle. They had suffered no raids from bandits or nomadic tribes in all the long weeks on the road, traveling in relative peace.

As these things went, it was as smooth as a mercenary could ask for.. She was not a mercenary, but even she could understand that much.

It was just unfortunate that eyes other than theirs were watching, now, as they had been for several days. Planning, waiting for the right moment...

 

[Igni Ymaranath Ythys]

"Why would you be here, then?"

"To look after my merchandise," Igni said, waving a small, chubby hand to the wagon ahead and behind. "I also grow tired of the city from time to time. I'm here to stretch my wings." She grinned. "So to speak."

"Aye, you'll have my finest shots protecting our van, Lady Ithys."

"That's the spirit. May we all get though this unscathed.

With that, she turned to Merina and said quietly, "Care for a wager?"

"Of what sort?" Merina said.

"Survival. How many vans, and how many souls finish our journey at their intended destination?"

A sour look crossed Merina's face.

"Too much?"

"A little."

"Hmmph," Igni said, then stared back out the window. "Maybe the komodo is a betting man."

***

Igni spent the next several weeks sitting in her wagon, uncomfortably bearing its to-ing and fro-ing on the rocky road with all the grace a woman of her size could muster. Occasionally she would emerge for an evening walk - which was always very short - and occasionally she would disappear entirely, and anyone who looked into the wagon would find only Merina, calmly doing crocheting or reading a novel. She did not seem concerned for her mistress' disappearances.

But this night she was present. The van drivers and off-duty mercenaries had formed a circle around a small fire at the centre of their encirclement, and Igni emerged to sit with them. Only out of her wagon could her size truly be appreciated. She was only a little taller than average for a woman, though a few feet wider. Beneath her silken gowns of green and grey she had the figure of a fertility goddess, with wide hips and a large belly. Though they could not be seen, the upper parts of her legs prevented her from bringing her ankles to within a foot of each other. Hence, her pace was slow, to prevent herself from waddling too much.

She sat down on a stool brought specifically by Merina, and nodded to those around her. Despite her size, come meal times she rarely ate much. Perhaps she ate in secret. Just like everyone else she accepted a bowl of stew from the van's cook, and ate it as delicately as she could.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

"Ah, good evening, Lady Ithys," Garrod called out from across the circle that surrounded the cookfire. "Not a soul lost yet," the one eyed mercenary winked to her. "So be prepared to to pay us all out."

Another man next to him grinned, yellow and toothless. "Aye, all o' us av erd bout that little reward you've promised, m'lady." He was a dwarf, with a great mustache, and a round bulbous nose, ruddy with drink. A fine crossbow and shield rest beside his seat. "An we aim to collect!" He raised his flask up, but no one joined his lonely cheer.

"Easy now, Malo, you won't be able to hit a wagon with that croosbow of yours if you keep on going how you are," Amilla added, setting down with her bowl of stew, fresh and hot from the Van cook. "Oy, Garrod, it's your turn to stand watch, Kilik is out there, with his bow."

Garrod sopped up the last bit of the gravy with the piece of old flat bread, and he stuffed it in his mouth. He chewed and swallowed. "Aye, I'm getting to it." Garrod stood up, and gathered up the board and sword he'd purchased in preparation for this assignment. He nodded to Lady Ithys as he walked out to the wagon circle's perimeter. "Have a nice meal, Lady Ithys," he said with a smirk and a nod.

 

[Aeyliea]

She sat apart from the others as had been her wont for the entirety of the journey. Her distrust for the Sundered had not decreased in all the long, hard miles they had traveled, even if she had become more comfortable with that distrust. For the most part, the others ignored her aloof attitude as though it were some eccentricity of her upbringing.

All things considered, it wasn't a bad assumption to make.

Something had been weighing on her the last several days, and she had said nothing of it to the others. The haunting voice - that of one of the Seven, she was sure - had gone strangely silent in the preceding days, and with that uncharacteristic silence had come a sense of foreboding, a building dread that was every bit like the rising sun on the horizon. The Seer did not fear much of anything...but unease? Well, she was uneasy of whatever this new thing was.

She looked to her companions. They were gathered round the fire, enjoying what passed for a meal (all of the food these people ate was strange and exotic to her), and engaging in idle conversation. Untested, one and all, and especially the ridiculously large woman. The No'rei was surprised that the carriage would bear her weight. Uncharacteristically of her, she had said nothing of this to her or any other - an opportunity to cast insult missed in favor of simply remaining apart from the others.

Somewhere over the sere land, thunder rolled. Low, ominous, and out of season...but then, the Sea often produced its own weather when and how it desired to, seemingly without reason. The Seven were usually attributed with the strange things.

Something tickled at the back of her mind. The fragment of power that had settled into the marrow of her bones, gifted to her by the as-yet unnamed dragon of eld, shifted.

The young Seer got to her feet, and moved closer to the others, skulking at the edge of their circle like a dog at the fire when the meal had gone long. The komodo noticed her, lazily raised a hand in greeting but said nothing. He returned to his food even as she watched the one fellow - Garrod - leave the enclosure, and head out to do his turn on the watch.

That quiet power in her pulsed insistently, but no words of wisdom came. For a moment, she thought to close her eyes and call upon the power of the Seven, and look further afield than these folk could...but she stayed her hand. Something told her that it would be unwise, but she was uncertain as to why.

Kerr raised a bowl of stew and waved to the Seer. "Still hot," he said, and she shrugged and said nothing. She was content to listen, for now.

Off in the distance, but coming closer...the growl of thunder. Westward, lightning flickered on the horizon....and it had not been there but a few moments before.

 

[Igni Ymaranath Ythys]

"Not a soul lost yet," the one eyed mercenary winked to her. "So be prepared to to pay us all out."

"I would have it no other way," Igni said, relishing in the attention the promise of money awarded - and feeling just a pinch of guilt about it. Is that why she had offered, or was it because she genuinely cared about these creatures? Perhaps it was both. For the moment she was content not to know.

She frowned quizzically at the dwarf, though her lips and eyes still sported a half smile.
"Do you doubt my ability to deliver?" she said. "Have a little faith in me, Sir Malo, as I have faith in your crossbow and shield. And do restrain your drinking. I would hate for that to be the reason I save twenty silver."

She inclined her head to Garrod as he left, though wondered a little at his smirk.

A flicker of light lit up the caravans, like lightning. Though the sky above was clear. Only the brightest stars pierced the evening light, though it wouldn't be long until they were all ablaze.

"I do so admire the stars from the wilderness," she said, mostly to Merina. "City skies are dull in comparison. As much as I hate carriage travel, I am glad I came. Though, against my better judgement, I do wish it was a little more exciting."

There was another flicker of light. Brighter this time. Igni turned her head west to see the lightning in the distance.

"Though, perhaps I will eat my words," she said, and sampled more soup.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

Galo smiled wide and red nosed toward lady Ythys, a bashful laugh forced out with a breath. "Lady Ythys, I'm no Sir, or Ser, or what have you, just Malo is fine," he nodded toward her. "And don't you worry none, m'lady, Ol' Malo never done miss a shot on account of his drink, i'll have you know," he looked down at his flask, his eyebrows knit together. "Though I s'pose it won't hurt none to lay off for now," he nodded slowly to himself and corked the container before he put it away in some pocket underneath his shirt.

Garrod had reached the edge of the wagon perimeter, and was greated by the dark expanse that spread out before them, and the darker clouds that billowed too near in the distance. He let out a long whistle as his hand worked on the straps of his gauntlet. "Now, that is a storm," he said.

"Came out of no where it did," Kilik, a young desert elf archer with dark brown hair and darker brown eyes said, his stare still captivated by the roll of clouds that seemed to come ever onward. "Just, appeared."

White and bright and hot was the flash of lightning. The green afterglow hung in the sky for but a moment.

Oh, yes. Belephus said, inside the swordsman's head. Yes, this is the kind of night that I long for.

 

[Aeyliea]

The Indrik watched the caravan in silence, as they had for the last week.

The No'rei were a patient people. The land they lived in lent itself to teaching that trait to all that lived upon its skin; an unforgiving, harsh wilderness that oscillated wildly through the year. The storm that raged westward was but one facet of the fickle nature of the Sea. There were plenty of others, though the time of year was not right for the other dangers.

They numbered two dozen, and they communicated with one another through hand signals, moving through the grass like ghosts. The occasional flash of lightning illuminated them as they moved, fitful gusts of bitterly cold wind lashing at them and carrying hints of rotten ice along with.

They moved with grace and ease towards the caravan. It was unfortunate for those in the 'van, too, that it was the No'rei that had found them and not bandits. Bandits, at least, would have killed some of the guards and then robbed them and fled.

The Indrik wanted none of their goods. Wanted none of their coin. They did not require slaves. They simply wanted the Sundered purged from the Sea - the Sea, where they did not belong. The Sea, the domain of the Seven and no other. The Sundered could be sent into the abyss, their souls forever doomed to wander...

...while their own souls burned bright.

***

She felt the stir in the wilderness before her companions, but not much before. The storm that had suddenly appeared was not natural, and the threads of ancient power that lent it strength were of a nature she could discern. She could feel the echoing pulse of Ty'rath in the skies, the quiet, insistent power that could blow down a grown man as easily as a blade of grass.

Alerted, she stood suddenly, but it was already too late. The sound of an arrow cutting through the air whistled alarmingly loud, and then the bellow of the Komodo's pain cut through the relative silence of camp like a knife. The feathered shaft jutted from Kerr's shoulder, and the warrior reached up and broke the shaft off close to his flesh before turning to face what was coming.

A dozen bronze-skinned warriors dashed out of the tall grass, spears and hide bucklers at the ready. In the span of three seconds, the quiet of the night was shattered, and all-out war had begun. Aeyliea snatched her own weapons up and only just managed to duck to one side as a horn-tipped arrow cut through the air, missing her. She watched as one of the Indrik charged at the Komodo who, despite being injured, seemed to be enjoying himself. The great sword he swung about was bigger than some of the people he swung it at, the edge notched and nicked. The attacker ducked under it to strike, but the burly warrior stopped the swing -impossibly, it seemed - and dropped the flat of the blade on the No'rei head with an audible crack.

With a snarl, she darted forward to join the fray.

 

[Igni Ymaranath Ythys]

First Igni noticed shouting at the edge of camp, then everyone around the fire stood and fled. Galo threw his bowl down in a dramatic spray of stew before grabbing his crossbow and running with the others. Only, they were fleeing towards the shouting. Igni only turned to look as the battle was engaged, bowl still in hand.

"I spoke too soon," she said, and sighed.

"My lady, safety?" Merina said, eyes wide and voice trembling.

"Good idea. It would be hard to help them and protect you at the same time." With that, Igni put her hand on Merina's shoulder. Space twisted around them like ripples in a pond, and then they were gone. Nothing left but the seats on which they had sat.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

A flash. Dark figures illuminated against the tall grass. Garrod's eye went wide. A crash. Thunder clapped and bowstrings strummed their flat twangs. Arrows whistled across the dark sky, screaming as they sailed towards their targets.

Quick to move, Garrod cant a spell, shout a word of power and swept his arm up, hand flared out, he willed the wind to gust around him and Kilik, the howl and rush of the air bat away arrows that fell toward them, scattered them away and harmless.

Screams tore through the night, and the sound of bodies that crashed against each other sounded out.

"They are in the grass!" Garrod called out to his partner. His eye sharp as it looked out. "We best fall back to the wagon circle!"

Kilik nodded, and the two men beat a retreat, another battery of missiles cast aside with another blast of magick wind.

In the wagon circle chaos roiled over. Malo fired a bolt from behind the cover of his shield, and the projectile struck into one of the raiders sides. Punched clean through his flesh.

Amilla Fired a shot wide of one assailant who charged after the komodo, "To your flank, Kerr!" the archer shouted out from her perch in a wagon.

Garrod entered the fray, with arming sword and shield, bat away a blow from an axe, and thrust his sword into the stomach of a man who'd come to kill them. "We are surrounded!" Garrod called out. "We must clear out this rabble in our ranks!" A second man thrust a spear toward him, he caught its head against the flat of his shield.

 

[Aeyliea]

Something is not right here.

The savagery of the attack seemed blunted to her, as arrows whistled through the air overhead, some finding flesh and others not. The guards fell back to the safety of the encircled wagons and carts, but despite their retreat their attackers never attempted to push into the defensive formation.

She saw Kerr and Garrod ducking away from the open, the former gleefully striking with his remarkable strength at anything that came within his considerable range. One of the Indrik got too close, and pay for it with a vicious backhand blow that severed the leather-clad warrior from the upper arm. The shield on that arm circled away, and in the next moment Kerr's blade split the bastard in half.

"Something...something...," she tried to yell, but could not find the words in common to give warning. She caught an arrow on the buckler, and hissed in pain as it punched through, cutting through the twisted arm beneath it. She turned in time to catch a spear on it, deflecting it and breaking the shaft in the process before striking like a snake - a swift thrust to throat, heart, and groan.

Blood, death, and madness. It was the warrior's trade, after all. But there was more to this than they could see.

Lightning lanced through the sky. Storm clouds boiled overhead, the unnatural storm bearing down upon them. They were pinned, a piece of steel pressed against the savages acting as the anvil, and the storm the hammer.

<<"Sundered swine, you will pay in blood for desecrating the Sea,">> came the shout of one warrior, out in the grass. Their tongue was like hers, easy for her to understand despite the accent of the tribe in question. <<"Your blood shall water the grass!">>

She grinned mirthlessly. She did not intend to die here, but had no real idea of what to do. Something pulsed in her mind, a whispered voice that defied her ability to call it into clarity. It pulsed in time with the sorcery that fueled the storm - clear to her, now, so close it was. Thunder smote the world, the blinding flash only preceding it by seconds as the wind came up hard from the west.

<<"The Seven will take you,">> said another in the grass. Aeyliea managed to get into the protective confines sans any further missiles, and their attackers did not press the circle, sticking to the grass.

Out of sight. Pinning them down, holding their attention, all while the Seer with this group did their work.

 

[Igni Ymaranath Ythys]

Time and space rippled once again, in the exact same place that Igni and Merina had disappeared. Only this time the ripples were much bigger. A few heartbeats later and out of the ripples emerged an enormous creature.

Draconid in form, though with fur instead of scales. Red on the back and black on the belly. White markings on the face, and whiskers aplenty. Igni's true form didn't look much like her human form except for one thing: it was just as fat.

Despite her bulk she reared up, exposing her enormous belly and spreading leathery wings. A deep roar, like a large cat, rippled out of her mouth, and she peered into the long grass, looking for a target.

But the large grass hid their enemy well. She could smell them on the breeze now, but with the wind whipping around from the storm it was hard to pinpoint a direction.

Still, she opened her whiskered snout. Several circles of arcane symbols appeared about her mouth, extending forwards, and then a stream of blue fire shot out from their centre. Like a fluid it streamed out over the circle of wagons and down into the grass, which erupted into orange flame in a moment. Screams erupted a moment later, and several burning assailants ran out in a panic.

"Get them," Igni rumbled, then opened her mouth to release another jet of flame.

 

[Garrod Arlette]

It was the lull that followed the initial attack, the periodic arrow loosed from bowstring hidden in the grass that plunked into the side of wagon walls or shield.

"Come on and fight us ye bloody cowards!" Malo hollered out from behind the guard of his shield tall shield as his thick arms worked the wench of his crossbow. An arrow flitted out from the shadows of the grass, head a-twinkle in flight, and it sunk into the shield with a loud thwack. "Ha!" taunted the dwarf. "You'll have to do better than that!" He raised his crossbow, aimed the bolt at the shapeless mass of growth and vegetation, and fired back.

"They are playing with us," Garrod thought aloud, his body pressed against a wagon that acted as his cover from arrow fire. The hairs along his arms stood on end, and he could smell the metallic scent of magic as it swirled in the air, air that seemed to carry with it words so old and ancient and full of power, that they felt familiar to him, reminded him of his own cants.

Before he could call out another order, from the nothing between them appeared a large creature, dragon like , covered in soft fur, with a roundness that seemed all too familiar.

"Haha!" Malo cried out as the cat-dragon let out a fearsome roar. "Tis the good lady Ignis!"

"Igni," Garrod corrected with a happy crook in his lip. When the fire erupted, hot and iridescent-turned-to-blue, his eye went wide and he stood slightly dumbfounded as their enemies howled and cried, their pain high on the wind.

"Let's break out!" Galo rallied, and lady Igni urged them forward.

Garrod nodded and looked to Kerr, then Aeyelia who seemed worse for wear. "On me! I will be the point!" The one eyed sellsword broke out of his cover, head tucked behind his round shield, arming sword at the ready. He cried hot and red as he ran into the burning field, and his steel flashed as he cut down those who tried to put out the flames which ate at them.

The mercenary archers picked their targets carefully, and fired freely at those who broke from their cover, so engulfed in flames.