Open Chronicles The War of the Kinniger Dutchy: Outriders

[Crows Call]

The specter kept hacking and slashing at what remained of the pursuing horde on land, lost in the moment of his exhilaration and bloodlust, he failed to ensure the safety of his vessel, he failed to stop any remainder of the horde that came for Kiros and now his vessel had fallen through the ice and into the cold, dark waters of the river. The spirit also noticed that the other two living that he had sensed had managed to fight off the vampires that had attacked them, more with cunning than brute force, most impressive.

He heard the man call out, "Hey! You can climb using the net! I'll raise it up when your ready!" This was a good thing for it would help his vessel... probably not drown, however, neither the leeching abilities of Crows Call, nor the net would stop Kiros from dying of hyperthermia.

As he cleaved through the weak skull of one of the straggling zombies, he again dematerialized and rematerialized in the water beneath Kiros, as unlike the living he had no need of air, nor could he experience cold as they did. The spirit began pushing him up so he may reach the net the kindly old man and his dog had given them to use. As he pushed he found an aspect of this all very funny: a haunted sword, a questing priest, and old man with his dog? The Warrior-Poet's specter began laughing beneath the waters, t'was almost a fable!

Aegnor Ransiren Kiros Rahnel

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

Drawn upwards out of the freezing waters from a force beneath him, Kiros held on tight, gratefully trusting his life to Crows Call in his vice grip. The laughter, muffled beneath the waves was sweet relief - in expressing amusement, Crows Call signaled their victory. Once his head pulled back above the rippling water’s surface he made a sputtering gasp for air, hand clawing for his sceptre that laid imprinted upon the snowy ice. Water poured from his drenched robes along a streak of bright, flowing crimson from the grisly wound; he brought the sceptre to his chest amidst another bout of coughing.

His last spell had failed him, would this too? Putting the focus to his chest, he made his incantation; to his relief the magic flowed true. A bright glow illuminated the horrid wound for a moment before it too began to emit an obscuring light. The slice through his chest became a luminous canyon shrinking in size until vanishing without trace, leaving healed and unmarked flesh beneath the hole though his gambeson.

“My gratitude brother, I owe you life! When my magics failed, you came through.” He spoke, both in thanks and explanation. With fear of imminent demise behind him, he began to ponder the cause of his new spells deadly failure. One last attempt to invoke the spell while hoisted in the net was also met with failure, only reinforcing its nonfunctional status.

Then there were the vampires; nearly 40 of them in total. Itra had said the way was clear of all; or so she briefed Kiros. “Perhaps they had been sufficiently stealthy to evade Her sight?” he thought, but even he sensed a stretch of reason; one widened further by the sizable boat that had been sailing upriver that also escaped divine observation. Though they only recently spoke, there were too many unknowns and much of the quest still remained before them. If that many came at them in an ambush, he could only imagine the forces lying in wait at their destination. Perhaps She wasn’t clear, perhaps the situation had changed; regardless, he knew he would have to consult Itra again.

As he was hoisted up within the net, Aegnor was met with a face of thankfulness once his head was visible from the ships surface “And I owe my thanks to you as well; I am Kiros; this blade here is Crows Call. Friend, savior; please tell me your name!” he called out, hair damp and slick against his head.

Aegnor Ransiren

 

[Aegnor Ransiren]

Aegnor looked down and smiled warmly. ''I am Aegnor Ransiren, good sir! I was just passing through and happened to see you.'' He stared down at the people in his net. Kiros, the man who had fell into the water, was dripping wet. The man who had saved him turned out not to be a man. It was a sword. Trying hard not to question it, he said. ''Hold on, I shall raise the net. It won't take long.'' And ran across his ship to pull the lever. After pulling the lever he raced back towards the neck and waited.

''Are you alright? That was quite the fall you took.'' He enquired, squinting to check if Kiros had any injuries. ''I have bread and some wine here if you're hungry. You look like you need it.'' Aegnor could only imagine how long the two of them have been fighting. To make the net go up faster he tugged at its rope. ''Sit tight down there! Gonna hoist you guys up.'' He called down to the people in his net.

He was soon sweating profusely. The net was heavier than he expected. He took a break to catch his breath. Aegnor purposely made the net so fishing would be easier, but has never used it until today. He took a deep breath and continued pulling. All of this will be over soon. At least, that's what he's hoping. He wondered what the others were thinking.....

Kiros Rahnel Crows Call

 

[Crows Call]

With his battle-brother in the safe hands of the old fisherman, the spirit dematerialized in order to conserve what power it had. The reddish ethereal flame of Crows Call subsided slightly, in response to the calm. It didn't take the spirit long to realize that they were on a ship! Or boat... dingy? He was the spirit of a warrior-paladin, not a ship captain, so his knowledge of such nautical things was extremely limited.

As Kiros was raised unto the sea vessel, he thought struck him that filled him with glee. They were on a vessel and every sea vessel needs a proper shanty! From the blade a disembodied voice began to sing in a most jubilant melody with other similar voices joining in the second verse,

"'Fools!', they said,
rivers painted red,
when the men of humble glory hunt for vampires!

No questions asked, we take on our task!
Tones o' so grey after sunset,
slaying a man, taking what they can?
What is right, what is wrong who can answer?

Sailing the ravine, we do just what we please...
Ending the undead cancer!
​

Aegnor Ransiren Kiros Rahnel

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

“Needless to say, I am very pleased to meet you!” came the reply to Aegnor, with Kiros still within the net while the old fisherman worked to pull him onto the deck.

''Are you alright? That was quite the fall you took.''

“A terrible wound - I thought what came next would be my end.” He traced the deep cut the polearm’s blade made through his garments, over a foot long and through several layers of clothing; too many to be easily counted. A streak of red beneath told of a deep wound, but a tug of his robes showed nothing but unmarked skin beneath. “I’m a healer by practice,” he explained, “Though powerless to heal myself until you both delivered me to the safety of this net. I have other spells, hold a moment and I can aid you further.” With that, he invoked his blessing of might upon Aegnor. The fisherman felt his muscles strengthen and the once-heavy net felt like a sack full of feathers, now much easier to pull up onto the boat. Once Kiros landed, he worked his way free pushing the mass of rope aside with a hand before standing slowly up on the deck with careful footing.

''I have bread and some wine here if you're hungry. You look like you need it.''

“Admittedly, I am starving. I could hardly refuse such generosity. And if there is any way I can repay in kind please; you hold my life's gratitude Aegnor.”

"'Fools!', they said,
rivers painted red,
when the men of humble glory hunt for vampires!

No questions asked, we take on our task!
Tones o' so grey after sunset,
slaying a man, taking what they can?
What is right, what is wrong who can answer?

Sailing the ravine, we do just what we please...
Ending the undead cancer!
​

As Crows Call recounted their events through celebratory song, Kiros held him up in introduction. “Ha, I couldn’t explain our adventure better myself! A warrior poet’s spirit dwells in the sword, we two are joined in a holy quest to eliminate these foul undead. There is an infested village a few hours from here; the source of these vermin.” he explained with a gesture of his hand over the many lifeless remains that decorated the battlefield. Leela's paws clacked along the ships surface, drawing his attention next and leading him to lower his hand to give her an introduction before giving her a few idle pets, - should she allow it. “And who is your travelling companion?” He asked of Aegnor, though Leela had still held the priest’s attention for the moment.

As warm as the welcome was, the cold morning air would keep him from comfort; he was soon shivering beneath soaking wet, dripping robes. “Is there a place to dry these off?” He asked Aegnor.

“A moment to do that and recuperate is sorely needed.” he added, with look down at the deep red stains beneath his former wound with a restrained grimace. “And I’ll need to wash this off too...” he remarked as he looked over the stains that soiled his robe.

“Blood, blood, blood. So much blood.” he thought. Hardly a big fuss to Kiros; the battle-hardened priest was barely fazed. Though Itra, oh how She hated the sight of blood. These stains would need to be scrubbed out before he’d dare establish divine contact. This would delay their quest; though with it being barely morning, and with the entire day before them, time remained on their side.

“Oh, and the sword...” he explained. “It’s an ancient Kaliti artifact, I can sense it takes a certain soul to wield in full..” came the warning. He had sensed the effect of his willpower as he held Crows Call, allowing him to keep wit and will where the warrior that delivered the weapon to him had not. “Treat it with care; though if your life is in danger wield it - I’m not the first it has helped deliver from death.” He did not know how the warrior’s desperate story began, only that the sword ultimately lead the man to his healing, and ultimately a second chance.

Aegnor Ransiren Crows Call

 

[Aegnor Ransiren]

Aegnor smiled at the song. He was tempted to sing along, but he was sure he would be horrible at it. He sweat away from his forehead. Kiros had done something to him, and likely to their advantage. He smiled wider as Leela begged for Kiros's attention. ''That's my dog, Leela. She's been my pet for several years now. Go on, pet her. She won't bite.'' He looked at the soaking wet robes he wore. He pointed to a railing on the boat. ''Over there should do just fine.''

He looked around at his ship and sighed. The vampires who managed to climb aboard destroyed several of the floorboards. But now was not the time to worry about such things. He forced a smile and nodded. ''Of course! You can rest here for however long you both want. Unfortunately I have no way to clean the blood off your precious robes. I have some extra clothes below decks. Perhaps they should suffice until you can wash them. Rest here a while while I find some food.''

He made his way below decks and winced as his wounds hurt him. His arms were numb with rope burn and his legs ached. He fell down in a heap. He struggled to get up and reach his pantry. Behind him he heard a snarl. Turning his head he saw a vampire bare his teeth at him and charge. Despite the ache in his legs, he kicked at his adversary with all his might. The monster was caught off guard and fell down. Aegnor shakingly stood up.
Soon he had reached the pantry and slowly made his way back up on deck to give his visitor food. He put on a smile, groaning in pain at every step he took. Finally reaching Kiros again, he sat down and wiped his forehead with a piece of cloth. That went well. At least, he hoped it did. Focusing on Kiros, he asked, "Need anything else, my good sir?"

Kiros Rahnel Crows Call

 

[Crows Call]

Crows all found himself quite charmed by the kindly old man and his dog, unconventional if highly skilled hunters of monsters in their own right. He decided to converse with a dramatic entrance, the specter manifesting right above the entrance to lower decks, taking a pose on his side with head resting on his hand.

(OOC: This is kind of the pose I was going for.)



The spirit then spoke, "So then old slayer, perhaps you would accompany us! We are on a crusade to rid these already dreadful lands of monsters and terrors. Specifically vampires and the undead this time, so... what say you my good man?"

Aegnor Ransiren Kiros Rahnel

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

"So then old slayer, perhaps you would accompany us! We are on a crusade to rid these already dreadful lands of monsters and terrors. Specifically vampires and the undead this time, so... what say you my good man?"

“It’s no light task I warn you; we set off for adventure with high stakes.” he added. Aegnor was the only living soul Kiros had seen in weeks. And it was the living who made suitable vectors for his magic; the fisherman could prove useful indeed.

But I cannot deny we need the aid." he'd admit.

''Of course! You can rest here for however long you both want. Unfortunately I have no way to clean the blood off your precious robes. I have some extra clothes below decks. Perhaps they should suffice until you can wash them. Rest here a while while I find some food.''

“Precious robes!” He smiled slightly at that, the notion of value his robes held to Aegnor. Fine enough to be suitable religious vestments, the priest always considered them inornate. No doubt the fisherman doesn’t encounter many priests, especially from a land as foreign as Amol-Kalit. Who could blame them? Why roam, when you can maintain a cozy temple well and far away from these freezing mires of undeath? Of course, Kiros had his reasons; and so here he was.

“Hah! I’m not one to usually care; but bound by religious requirement. Oh, I’ve something that can wash it out. I merely need water, and we’ve no shortage of that! Well, I’ll await you here, and thanks once more.” came his reply.

He pulled off his robes to hang them over the side of the boat before unfastening his gambeson. It had barely been unbuttoned when the commotion beneath alarmed him. His posture sharply stiffened, before he gave a turn. Careful steps atop the deck brought him towards the entrance where he waited for further sound with sword and sceptre in hand. By the time Aegnor made his way back atop deck, he’d encounter Kiros in a focused and ready stance.

“Were you alright down there? You’re wounded, aren’t you?” his tone tinged with concern. “Let me aid; it’s but the very least I can do” he added as the gratefully took the food, setting it aside to first tend to the older man’s health. His gait hinted at a limp, and confirming that, Kiros brought his sceptre to Argnor’s leg. A soft glow emanated from the symbol atop it; soon after, aching soreness yielded to blessed relief.

“Perhaps we should clear that lower deck too...” He turned his gaze to the way down below, stepping down carefully with Crows Call at the ready, plunging it into each lifeless body he encountered.

“Can’t be too careful” he thought, glancing around to confirm no more remained before he retrieved the clothes and food from up above. Food, and shelter from the cool morning wind. It was needed relief.

After a quick but nourishing meal, he set about completing the other needed tasks, disappearing back to the top deck to soak and scrub his robes. The task added time to their quest, but a dedicated effort and quick hand was soon able to remove any trace. Satisfied with his cleaning, he hoped Itra would be too.

The task complete, he wrung the water from the robes and draped them beside his still blood-soaked gambeson. Time, while plentiful, was still limited; no need to waste it on clothing not holy.

With his attire drying in the morning sun, he next set to constructing his altar, borrowing a few loose boards laying about the ship to do so. Thanks to both better building materials and an aversion to Itra’s displeasure, this looked much better than the last. The construction of the rectangular box was complete long before his clothes would dry, a process that would take a couple of hours

While waiting, he had time to help Aegnor with any needed ship repairs as his river-soaked clothing dried beneath the creeping morning sun. Finally he donned the dried robes and made his way over to the alter in a corner beneath the deck of the ship. Answers would hopefully be his soon.

And so he began to pray and wait.

And waited still for response...

Aegnor Ransiren Crows Call

 

[Aegnor Ransiren]

Aegnor started as Kiros healed him, grinning faintly. "I am grateful for your help in reinvigorating me. Is there anyway to repay you?"

He took a sip of wine. Facing Crows Call, he nodded. "It would be my pleasure. Where are you two headed? Perhaps I can assist you in getting there faster. This boat isn't just for fishing. This boat has battled many a storm and came out victorious." He prided himself in his ability to keep his ship in shape. "I say I'm in. I'll protect both of you with my life."

Something Crows Call said surfaced. Monsters and undead? His grin turned into an almost boyish smile. The kind of smile troublesome boys back home at Alliria usually had. He was going on an adventure!

Kiros Rahnel Crows Call

 

[Crows Call]

Crows Call was overjoyed by this statement, the specter cheered uproariously, "It is settled then! LETS GO PILLAGE A VILLAGE LADS!" He then dematerialized, the sword now blazed more heavily, as if to signify the specters excitement.

Aegnor Ransiren Kiros Rahnel

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

(Will be splitting this turn into three smaller posts)

He waited patiently as the morning continued, and yet no response came. Ten minutes became twenty; concerns that She might not respond before nightfall were now unnerving to him.

Times were desperate enough - silent prayer failed. He opened his lips to invoke her name quietly, but audibly.

“Do you still watch over?”

“...Itra?”

 

[Itra]

Well, this was a turn. He had done so well in arriving with great haste once Her quest was given unto him. And here he was, crying out not even a day since their last communication! Any former contentment in him was forfeit when She turned her focus back onto Her priest. She hadn’t been watching yet, no. But She meant to be watching, She would have given them a glance tomorrow, or the day after at the very least. The mortal already has the attention of a divine! More attention than was deserved; he was lucky to have that much.

“What is of such importance?”

“I nearly perished, Itra - Your spell, I could not invoke it-”

“You find it important to call My aid insufficient?”

“...I’ve no doubt in the power of your magic craft, I was simply unable to cast-”

“You find it important to tell Me you are an idiot?”

“I’ve not had such inability with any other spell-”

“It is entirely different from My other spells

An idiot would have figured that”

At this, Her priest remained silent and stone-faced. She had never mentioned that; but he spoke nothing of it.

“...May you one day rise to the rank of idiot

Yet I won’t wait: This is how you invoke My spell”

She bitterly showed him how the spell functioned, giving him insight towards the new and formerly unknown methods required. He remained noiseless, yet attentive.

“You’ve barely begun

and have been nearly killed already

What is your excuse?”

He remained silent, though his expression shifted with concern. It was a tense, quiet moment; and Itra grew more irritated with each passing second. Does he not understand? She once again broke the silence, this time with demand instead of question.

“Speak your excuse!”

He shifted again, his posture one of defeat.

“I believed the way clear, but we encountered nearly forty-"

“Why would you make such an assumption?”

Her priest was silent once more; Itra ensured it was for the briefest of moments.

“Why?

Speak!”

“...you bid the way was clear, Itra-”

“Again you call My aid insufficient!?

I shall bestow sufficient aid upon you

Take it

May it correct your numerous failings”

He shuddered at the altar, brow furrowed in a grimace of pain. Agonized breaths escaped through clenched teeth, yet still the priest did not protest.

“See to your quest’s completion”

“And do”

“Not”

“Fail”

Once the lines of communication were cut, Kiros finally slumped over with hand on head in anguish.

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

An outstretched arm reached for purchase atop the floor in struggle to shift his body over to the corner. He took a moment to rest, head atop his knees in the pain of his migraine; all too familiar a punishment from Itra by now. It was excruciating. The thought of taking some ‘medicine’, a dose of shade, was highly tempting. But the migraine would last a few hours, and the treatment would keep him out of commission for the day. He obligingly decided against it.

So, he struggled to his feet, fighting off his own dizziness as he made his way back to the others in a state clearly unwell. For the next few hours, the priest could barely string sentences of more than a few words.

By the time he was ready to step off, it would be early afternoon.

Time, once an ample resource, was now running low...

Aegnor Ransiren Crows Call

 

[Aegnor Ransiren]

Aegnor caught sight of Kiros and frowned. He looked sick. Deciding not to mention it, he faced towards the river, holding the ship's steering wheel. Coughing into his hand, he tried to make conversation.

"Perhaps it would be wise to hold off on walking for now. There might still be danger down there." He cursed at himself. You should never tell a grown man what to do! He wanted to smack himself on the head, but thought better of it. He leaned on his steering wheel, trying to pull off a calm demeanor. Failing miserably, he grabbed a nearby stool and sat down. He was fairly certain he had made a bad impression on his comrades. He decided to stay silent and wait for a decision to be reached.

Kiros Rahnel Crows Call

 

[Crows Call]

Crows Call, now back to the sword was completely focused on his vessel Kiros. He was obviously in some deep telepathic conversation with some entity, but it was so weird to the Warrior-Poet, being on the outside looking in. Kiros was just kneeling there, starring into the wooded deck... was this what it was like for anyone else watching when he spoke to his vessels? Perhaps the spirit had some re-evaluations to make.

Then the kindly old man spoke, breaking the awkward silence if replacing it with awkward conversation. "Perhaps it would be wise to hold off on walking for now. There might still be danger down there.", the old man warned. Kiros did not quickly respond but as not come off as rude, the sword spoke for him, the disembodied voice speaking to the old man, "Ah... kind ol' Aegnor! Always thinking of others, eh? But for all intensive purposes: danger being there is part of the plan.

But until then, I must ask of you my good sir: why are you so kind and open to me and my battle brother here? Sure we've done you no wrong and do not intend to, but I mean, c'mon. I'm a talking sword, haunted by the spirit of a warrior-poet-paladin that is constantly on fire, and my companion is an equally devoted priest who is dubiously secretive. Surely you must have some grievances about the whole situation?"

Aegnor Ransiren Kiros Rahnel

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

"Perhaps it would be wise to hold off on walking for now. There might still be danger down there."

“Yes...” came his strained response with his head on his hand; cutting his own sentence short as Crows Call replied; a response the beleaguered priest was happy to leave to another. He hated being the one to slow down the group; especially given the tight deadline. But Aegnor was right; if danger were to rear it’s head now, Kiros would be poorly prepared for it.

"But until then, I must ask of you my good sir: why are you so kind and open to me and my battle brother here? Sure we've done you no wrong and do not intend to, but I mean, c'mon. I'm a talking sword, haunted by the spirit of a warrior-poet-paladin that is constantly on fire, and my companion is an equally devoted priest who is dubiously secretive. Surely you must have some grievances about the whole situation?"

Candid as he was in posing the question, it was worthwhile and one that Kiros honestly shared with him. While grateful for the help and impressed by the tenacity of the fisherman, Crows Call and himself were bid by religious duty. He could only wonder himself what drove Aegnor towards such danger and adventure, an answer he would listen into with curiosity as he continued to nurse his migraine.

And ‘secretive’; well it was honest – hopefully it would keep Aegnor from raising too many questions. It would likely be enough to simply and broadly declare himself 'Annunaki', it was doubtful the fisherman had much care or knowledge of foreign religious order. Plus, he’d hardly want to inflict Itra upon Aegnor; the less he knew about Her, the better off he’d be.

Kiros was already well into regret that he knew Her.

Aegnor Ransiren Crows Call

 

[Aegnor Ransiren]

Aegnor smiled meekly. "I am only kind to both of you because it's how I am." Not entirely true. There were some times he had snapped at guests back home. But it mostly because they were being obnoxious.

"As for the certain absurdity of the situation we are in....I live in Crossroad Mire, where I've seen a lot of strange people. You two aren't the first oddities I've laid eyes on." He laughed to show he was joking. He glanced at Kiros before returning his attention to Crows Call. Aegnor thought he had said something, but it must've been the wind.

Looking at Crows Call, he tried to smile, but couldn't bring himself to do it. He kept his face calm and serious instead, which wasn't hard. "So... what's the plan here?" He asked a tad impatiently. He didn't like waiting too long. He would rather keep moving that stay put.

Kiros Rahnel Crows Call

 

[Crows Call]

Crows call was delighted by the question, he laughed at Aegnors question, then the flames of the blade grew exponentially and roared sadisticly, "Kiros! CLOAK ME IN THE SLAUGHTER!!!"

Aegnor Ransiren Kiros Rahnel

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

"I am only kind to both of you because it's how I am."

“You’re a good soul...Aegnor” he spoke with strained, but honest words. He still had to question the situation; perhaps it was what it was, much as he tried to empathize. He certainly wouldn’t have stepped foot in these strange frozen lands himself if not for divine direction – there were many places he would have never gone were it not for Her. Still, as unpleasant as it was as times it was the source of stories to tell, of memories kept and wonders seen. Maybe if he got to live that stable life he left behind he too might be daring to adventure as Aegnor was.

Maybe. Actually giving the existential question any deep thought was beyond his ability in the throes of his debilitating headache.

"Kiros! CLOAK ME IN THE SLAUGHTER!!!"

With hand still on his forehead, a strained but amused chuckled would escape his lips.

“A good...plan” It was honest, and it was the one that Aegnor had witnessed in action when he first saw them – to approach their destination with faith in his battle brother and faith in his goddess. And admittedly, there was more of the former and less of the latter by now. He would have even held Crows Call up at the words of bravery were he in better condition. A strained grasp would have to suffice.

* * *

The sun was shining high through the clearing, partly cloudy skies by the time Kiros found himself able to focus again. The agonizing migraine was now a dull throb, easy enough for him to ignore as he stood up and began to prepare and pack up for their departure. It was a task that would take only a brief moment.

“I’ve recovered. I regret the great delay I have been party to.” came his words towards them both. Hardly his fault, but the priest made distinction between fault and responsibility. And as much as he earnestly tried to avoid the seemingly inevitable outcome it still befell him in the end. Though he’d like to offer explanation to both of them, Kiros was concerned it might only cause Aegnor worry; needlessly at that. So he turned to Crows call and uttered words in Kaliti – a native tongue he could only assume they shared. To the fisherman, it likely sounded like little else than prayer in foreign words.

“[She’s not always happy...]”

When all were prepared, Kiros would step off first, pausing to stand and gain his bearings before gesturing inland with an arm.

“We’ll continue this way, we should be not but a couple of hours travel time. Be prepared – there will be even more there than we encountered here” he briefed Aegnor as they stepped over the burnt bones and scraps of their former ambushers.

“For today – none shall live to see tomorrow.”

Crows Call Aegnor Ransiren

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

(Well it's been a couple of weeks, I think we should continue on. Aegnor Ransiren, always welcome to post when you can; we can always have you catch up when you return)

Crows Call

 

[Crows Call]

(OOC: Agreed, sorry Aegnor, adventure waits for no man!)

Peering through his battle brother's eyes, he make out the dim light of the village through the swampland's twisting trees and grasses. He could briefly make out the shadows of the enthralled undead milling about. They were likely mindless thrall, but even if the situation lacked the glory of a proper battle, warfare was more than armies clashing. It was time to cripple some supply lines...

Kiros Rahnel​

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

Kiros took a brief smoke from his pipe as they set off, still a touch shook from his one-sided divine communication. He wouldn't allow the event drag on his mind, he well couldn't with the task set before him. While unsure of just how much divine support he actually had now, he had no doubts about what needed to be done. And a powerful ally in the form of the great sword he carried.

He did miss his staff, it was familiar and practised; but Crows Call was no ordinary sword. The taste of swordplay was a distracting thought from his low mood. He had to admit, it was pretty exhilarating; until his wounding. Had he relied on it rather than his own magics, he figured, he likely would have ended that fight without a scratch. And he still didn't fully understand exactly what the spell even did. He'd tried it out and summoned forth a great flash of light; but one he would not dare look at. But at least with Itra's correction, the woven magic actually worked now. He could only hope it would be worth the literal headache.

* * *

He too saw the shadows moving about, taking a pause to observe them for a brief moment. "Not vampires, not likely anyway..." He pondered as he gazed over the snowy bog, seeing their slow, sluggish movements before feeling sure of what they were.

"I think we ought to clean this mess on our way in.." He remarked to Crows Call as he began to venture forth. There was no need to waste his magic here, such slow moving undead should be easy prey for swordsman alone. Especially with the blade he carried; he knew well what it would do. Kiros advanced onward, approaching the first such thrall at the greatest distance from the village with his sword at the ready; taking his swing at it the moment he was within swords reach.

Crows Call

 

[Crows Call]

As Kiros approached, the undead doubtless was aware of them, yet it just stood there. Pick over it's shoulder and teetering slightly with the wind. It was all to clear that this memory of a person was little more that a puppet powered by a captive soul. What they would do next was mercy not purification, the spirit spoke, "Kiros, it is time to send this suffering soul to Lunis's loving embrace... don't draw the kill out."

Kiros Rahnel​

 

[Kiros Rahnel]

He kept watch on the creature as it moved, it didn't even give him the slightest notice. An undead automation, a mindless servant of someone with little regard to the sanctity of life.

"Kiros, it is time to send this suffering soul to Lunis's loving embrace... don't draw the kill out."

At this he gave a nod - they were fitting words, and fitting attitude to have. "I dream not of it- may their end be peaceful and quick."

These are unwitting servants; they can bear no guilt. And that they were unwitting would make the process so much easier. Kiros sized up the zombie, a fair bit shorter than he was, and practised his swing a couple of times to ensure the blade should land clean upon the side of the zombie's neck. Once he felt he was ready he made his slashing strike, aiming to decapitate the enslaved thrall in an instant! As with Crows Call, he would hope that these efforts would bring a merciful end to the zombie's miserable continued existence.

Crows Call

 

[Crows Call]

In the distance more of the undead thrall stood in a line outside what may have been their mining barracks. He didn't think he needed to say what need to say what would be done.