Private Tales Through the Mists

[Thren]

Thren took another bite of what sort of appeared to be a rather large cracker. There was a bit of cheese on it, but otherwise it was entirely unadorned with topings.

He was a simple man.

"Seem like you could just kill them." The Barbarian stated simply. Politics, the subtleties and nuance of it was well beyond him. Among the Siruk Chieftains were rare nowadays, mostly because no tribe was large enough to even warrant one. In the old days things had been easy; the strongest ruled.

That was how they worked, how they had always worked. There was no question of political power, there was only strength. Those who had it lead, those who did not fell.

Thren took another bite, then continued on. "All of them."

 

[Keyleth]

"Just because you can do something, doesn't mean that you should." She remarked, though she found herself sorely wishing that she could. It would have been such a simple action. But she knew it's not what Leonell would have wanted.

And more violence was certainly not what Minaris needed right now.

A servant slipped in through the side door, and quickly scurried over to Cossick. Keyleth watched intently, but out of the corner of her eye. Something was wrong.

She could tell that much just by the way the servant nervously shifted from one foot to the other. Just what would have been so important to warrant a servant to interrupt their Lord's meal? Her fingers drummed against the wooden table top.

She sipped from the satinberry mead, puzzling over the possibilities when Beslin stepped into the main hall shortly after. That put her on alert. Her ears perked up and she sat a little straighter. Beslin and his men should have been resting in the barracks, or at the least, preparing to send a scavenging team out to the wreckage. What had brought him here?

The guard seemed relieved when he caught sight of the duchess seated at her table, and he swiftly moved over to her. He placed a hand on the back of her chair and leaned down to whisper in her ear. There was no formality in his words, he spoke to her with urgency in his voice.

"Keyleth, we have a situation and we need to get you somewhere safe."

Not taking her eyes off of Cossick and his servant, she tilted her head slightly to indicate she was listening. "Why?" She murmured back to him, sipping from the chalice to mask her question.

"Because the armory's been raided, half the equipment is missing, There haven't been any reports from men of House Cossick or Galai since we left this morning. We need to--" He hissed.

"What do you mean the armory's been raid--"

Keyleth had started to question Beslin, when Cossick suddenly snatched a letter from the servant he had been conversing with; and he rounded about to face the duchess. The parchment was waved through the air in a dramatic fashion as the lord raised his voice. "Traitorous witch!"

Silence fell over the hall.

Beslin started to murmur something to the duchess, but she raised a hand to quiet him as she rose to her feet. The tips of her fingers pressed against the table top as she stared down at the lord before her. The silvery strands of her hair fell over her shoulder. There was little she could do to stop the man from causing a scene. Killing him now would only implicate her in whatever fallacy he was about to spin.

"You had best be certain of what you are about to unleash, Lord Cossick." She said in a low, growling voice.

Leonell would have been able to muster something that didn't sound like a threat, but Keyleth was no longer engaged in the game.

The lord turned the parchment towards Keyleth, displaying the crest that sealed the letter and the neat flourish of her hand at the bottom. Easy to fake, but also easy to stir a divided people into a riot.

"The young Duchess Aviana has been murdered!" Cossick exclaimed to the crowd, throwing his accusing finger towards Keyleth. "At the behest of this wretch, who has stolen the throne and claimed it for herself."

Seething rage filled Keyleth's chest. Beslin immediately drew his sword.

"Seize her!" Cossick bellowed, spittle flying from his lips.

 

[Thren]

Thren slowly stood from his chair, the decanter in front of him snapping up into his right hand as the left went for one of the two daggers on the small of his back.

"Before we begin." Thren's words were plain spoken, seemingly punctuated with the sound of a dagger drawn from it's scabbard. The Decanter in his right hand swept up to his lips, the brackish liquid sliding down his throat in an odd sort of cleansing ritual.

His eyes closed for just a moment, and then he allowed the glass to drop on the floor. It's shattering seemed to echo through the chamber, which had grown silent within the shock of what Cossick had just called.

A smile touched the Barbarians face. "There."

Thren glanced over towards Keyleth with a smug smile. He had told her to kill them all, to strike before they could, and yet here they were. He couldn't help but feel a bit satisfied.

Perhaps he understood politics after all.

 

[Keyleth]

Chaos ensued.

Shouting rang out as questions and accusations alike flew from the lips of those still gathered in the hall. Confusion swelled to a breaking point. Keyleth knew that the lines had been drawn long before this moment. Men and women had been taking sides since Leonell had died.

A strange calm passed over her and she took a breath. This is why he'd chosen her. Leonell had been an intelligent man, gifted with magic. He had known a civil war would be inevitable without a male heir. Any noble born woman would have handed the throne over to the first man to come forth with a claim.

Politics and the game were not Keyleth's realm. She could pretend to belong, and feign the grace needed to get by; but she would forever be an outsider in the eyes of the ruling class.

Battle, however, was another story altogether.

"I will not stand by and allow you to tear this city apart for the sake of your avarice." Keyleth snarled, reaching behind Thren to pull the second dagger free from the scabbard.

The crowd seemed to quiver, teetering on the precipice of violence. And then the guards surged forward.

Many of them moved towards Cossick, weapons drawn; but there were some that set a course for the duchess. The threat was clear. In between Keyleth and the usurper, the armed men clashed and the fighting erupting in the main hall.

"You wanted a fight, mainlander. You have one." She said bitterly.

The main doors burst open, and the missing men Beslin had mentioned came pouring into the hall.

"Bes, rally the rest of your men. We need to control this before it consumes the entire bloody city!" She demanded, even as three armed men charged up the stairs towards them.

"You can't bloody well fight in a gown, are you--" He started to protest, reluctant to leave the battle.

"GO!" She shouted.

 

[Thren]

Thren frowned, protesting slightly. "That's my dagger..."

Within the Siruk a weapon was as close to the heart as one could get. It was a requirement of childhood that you forged your own armaments. Though among other cultures that might have meant swords, among his own people it varied from person to person. Some chose the blade, others the axe or hammer. Thren himself had chosen two daggers.

The two blades, like his armor, were made of star-metal. Harvested from a stone that had supposedly fallen from the sky thousands of years ago and formed a crater.

As the fighting broke out Thren flipped the dagger in his grip, turning the blade backwards and flexing slightly as he felt a shift within himself. A sharp whistle echoed from his lips, and then suddenly a crash could be heard as a massive War Hound broke through a nearby doorway.

Larik burst into the hall, sprinting as fast as he could and practically tackling the neartest soldier.

A scream echoed through the room, piercing and shrill as a soldier had his throat torn. Half a second later Thren suddenly burst forward, his movements faster than they had any right to be.

 

[Keyleth]

As Keyleth joined the melee, Beslin was turning to rush out one of the back doors. She knew that it pained him to leave, but there was little choice in the matter. If they were to survive the night, they were going to need a fighting force.

The barbarian blitzed across the hall, moving with the speed of a demon. To many of the more inexperienced fighters, he may well have been such. Especially with the massive hound joining him the fray.

A blade arced through the air towards her face, a young recruit wearing the black and red emblem of house Cossick lunged towards her. She felt almost sorry for the lad, but he had chosen where his loyalties laid. While Keyleth didn't have the magic to bolster her speed or strength, she harnessed pure skill and brought it to bear.

She caught the young man's wrist, stopping his blow mid swing; and then she stepped into him while spinning herself beneath his arm. Gritting her teeth together, she yanked the boy's arm backwards with her and then slammed her hand into the extended elbow joint. She felt the bones give way with a sickening crunch, and a pained shrieking howl came from the guard. His sword clattered out of his hand.

The duchess stooped down to pick up the blade and kicked the guard in the chest one she had straightened, sending him toppling onto his back. "Go scurry home, you damned fool."

His arm was bent at a horrific angle. He would likely lose it as a result of the injury.

Better his arm than his life.

 

[Thren]

Thren showed no such mercy.

Every man that stepped in front of him died. Every Soldier that tried to take a piece of him fell. His dagger flickered forward, biting into throats and exposed skin. Blood splattered freely, finding ground, tables, and food that had been left forward. He moved faster than he had any right to, his armor making none of the noise it had earlier.

It was eerie, as though he were a man possessed.

A sword swung towards him, a great spark erupting from the star-metal dagger as it struck against the base of it's blade. Thren growled slightly, his fingers gripping the blade tightly as his free hand wheeled forward and punched the soldier in the throat. A struggled gasp escaped the man, and then suddenly he was silenced as the dagger went slicing across his belly.

The soldier fell, and then a knee struck his face.

His body struck the ground, yet the noise he made was almost...muted. An odd sort of blackness formed around Thren's hand, his skin as dark as that of his armor.

With a grin he stalked forward, closing the distance of the dining hall.

 

[Keyleth]

As the guard scrambled back from her, sobbing as he clutched at his arm, the man turned to flee. Keyleth looked to the strange dagger in her hand, and then to the sword in the other. The dagger was lovely; but she preferred the weight of the sword.

Her gaze swept over the chaos that surrounded her. Screams still pierced the air, many of the women and non-combatant men still caught in the middle of the fight. Cossick's men encircled many of them, but she noticed they did not immediately butcher them without mercy. It would seem that their lord still wanted a kingdom to rule after this attack.

It would be some time before the brunt of Keyleth's forces could be roused. And she had no idea what was unfolding outside of the castle walls. There was a strong possibility that they would be embroiled in a bloody battle outside of their own.

The barbarian was eviscerating anyone who crossed him. It was an impressive sight to behold, but Keyleth could only keep him in her sight for a moment before another group of soldiers rushed towards her.

"Come on then!" She shouted at them, wishing that she was in her armor and had her shield.

But a thin gown would have to do.

Keyleth flowed into the battle like water. A great wave crashing over the rocky shore, but with the grace of a bird in flight. The elvish in her was strong; stronger than many who lived on the island -- another reason why she had been chosen. She carried on the bloodline of the ancient elvish warriors of old: the Ephemeral Wardens.

Two of the men were cut down before they even had a chance to properly engage with her. Blades swirling around her as she lashed out and leapt forward. The third was pinned to the ground with a dagger to his throat. Silvery hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned over him.

This one was older, grey streaks in his beard and around his temple. He had enough years to know exactly what he was doing. "Kiva keep you." She snarled at him, plunging the dagger into his throat.

In Minaris, those words were a curse.

 

[Thren]

Thren tore into his foes like a man possessed.

He moved fast, his dagger biting quickly, the metallic hand striking within a heartbeat. To his back was Larik, moving just as fast. Each time a man was about to catch The Barbarian from behind the Hound pounced on. Sometimes he would go for the throat, others he would simply tackle and bring the man to ground.

The two of them moved in tandem, a whirl of death that seemed to sweep through the recruits that Cossick had brought to bare. In his fury he had enough awareness to see the Noble pale, his face tightening as he grimaced slightly.

A smile crossed the Barbarians face, his dagger burying itself beneath the throat of a man as he impaled his skull. Then he saw it, a streak of something. Thren caught it only from the corner of his eye, but it was enough to move slightly to the side. He didn't see what it was, just that it moved quickly.

The lance spiked through the room, and then pierced through his shoulder. Heavy metal and wood buried itself in his flesh, cutting through a small gap in his armor.

A roar left his throat, metallic hand coming up to break the wooden haft of the spear. The distraction had been enough though, and across the room he saw Cossick slowly draw back towards the exit of the room.

 

[Keyleth]

As Cossick started to retreat, Keyleth rose to her feet. Her guards had taken up position around her, keeping any others from surging towards her. It would seem the traitor had not counted on the barbarian taking a side... or that he would be so brutally efficient.

Blood dripped from the tip of the dagger, her gown stained red from the fighting. There were splashes of crimson scattered across the duchess' face as she stared the fleeing lord down.

Cossick's face twisted into a fit of rage when he realized that Keyleth was unscathed.

While the duchess was a skilled swordswoman, her foe was a powerful mage. The man had trained along side her husband, and she knew all too well just how lethal he could be.

His hands started to contort and gesture in front of his chest, lips moving subtly. Keyleth knew a spell when she saw one. The problem was she didn't know what spell he was casting, and he was entirely too far away for her to stop him.

Dark energy coalesced around his fingers as Keyleth rushed towards him. It was a futile effort, but she had to at least try. The crush of the panicked nobles, the men still fighting slowed her. The torches closest to Cossick started to snuff out, then the darkness crept outwards, the speed picking up exponentially as it went.

She could see something taking shape behind the mage. It was massive.

"Mathias, DON'T!" She screamed, shoving a bloodied noblemen out of her way as she pulled the hand carrying the dagger back and let the blade fly.

The sharp star metal dagger embedded itself deep in the man's shoulder just as he finished the spell.

Total darkness fell over the main hall. There was a bone-chilling snarl, and then she could see a pair of blood red orbs hovering in the air where Cossick had been standing.

"Bring me her head." She heard the mage say through gritted teeth. There was a clatter of metal against the floor as he pulled the blade free and dropped it.

 

[Thren]

He hated mages, well, real mages. The SIruk used the ancient rites of course, but Thren didn't really consider that to be magic. It was more a natural talent of their people, an ability to change themselves rather than the world around them. It was the witches of the world that brought him trouble.

"Should have brought a Templar." Thren grunted, hearing a slight whine from Larik somewhere behind him. The darkness sat within the hall, lingering as though it were the blackest of moonless nights.

He heard the sound of his dagger clattering to the ground, a ringing that seemed to echo throughout most of the hall. He frowned for a moment, taking half a step back as he tried to catch his bearings. A noise echoed to his left, the sound of a boot falling onto the stone floor.

The Barbarian ducked, a sword swinging above his head and slicing the air.

His dagger twisted, stabbing to the left and instantly wrenching to the side as it met flesh. A half startled cry escaped the man that had attacked him, his form slumping onto the floor. "Larik, blade."

Thren spoke quickly, the Hound surging forward as it quickly dashed across the room and towards Cossick, snapping up the knife and rushing back towards The Barbarian before the Wizard could do anything.

 

[Keyleth]

The red orbs blinked and then loped forward, leaping over head and into the middle of the room. It landed with a tremendous thump on a table, which groaned in protest from the weight of whatever it was that it was holding up. A shrill scream pierced the darkness, went sharply higher pitched as a wet ripping noise accompanied the dying man's cries.

"By Tievrias' wings, what is that thing?!" A voice cried out, then another guttural scream.

The red eyes fixated on Keyleth and she felt the hair on the back of her neck raise up, instinctive terror chilling down her spine as the demon padded closer. Anyone that it came across in his path towards the duchess was slaughtered. There was a sick crunching sound, and Keyleth realized with horror that the monstrosity was eating people.

After it finished devouring its victim, the beast lunged towards her. It was black a shadow in a room that was almost pitch dark. The duchess could barely make out its form, but she could see enough to leap out of the way. An impossibly long limb lashed out towards her as she dove to the side. The thin gown offered little protection from the wickedly long talon that raked down her side.

Had it found her belly, the creature would have disemboweled her effortlessly.

It bellowed when it failed to ensnare its intended prey, the foul stench of putrid flesh washing over Keyleth and bile rose in her throat. The monster wreaked of death.

What had Cossick summoned?

While Keyleth was occupied with the beast, the crowd panicked and bolted for the main doors. Cossick's and Keyleth's men alike, alongside the terrified nobles trying to escape the monster's wrath. The Lord slammed the door shut before anyone could reach him, and there was a heavy thud as a bolt was dropped from the outside.

 

[Thren]

It was the eyes that Thren saw, those two red glowing orbs within the darkness. It dashed across the room faster than he had been, moving as though it were liquid poured from a vase. He scowled, Larik whimpered. It felt wrong, whatever this...thing was it had been born of something foul.

The Siruk shifted slightly, slowly squatting down to touch his finger tips to the stone floor. Something shifted again, and then as he took his first step his boot make a loud thunk noise. The armor around his shoulders clinked once again, and each step he took was slowed.

Though it was dark, those with good enough eyes would see that the stone where Thren had been standing just a moment was now cracked and broken. Shattered as though it had been glass.

"Beast!" He called out to the creature.

It was the eyes that he had to look for, the eyes that he could track. The rest of the creature seemed to blend into the shadows, but those eyes...those eyes he could see.

Thren stalked through the fleeing ground, every step of his boot letting out a loud thunk, every movement pronounced. His daggers spun in his hand, twirling for half a second before he suddenly broke into a sprint. His gait was the sound of rolling thunder, his feet crashing against the stone floor and cracking the pavers as he pounced towards those eyes.

 

[Keyleth]

The beast slammed a massive fist into the stone floor, Keyleth barely able to roll out of the way. She dragged the sword with her, while reaching beneath her skirts to free her own dagger from its sheath.

"Beast!" She heard the voice of the Mainlander cry out, heavy booming footfalls announcing his approach. It was difficult to tell if it was the barbarian, or a second demon.

The monster raised it's enormous hand to snatch at Keyleth a third time. But the thunderous voice crying out in challenge caught its attention. Instead of impaling the duchess with its massive talons, she was pinned beneath its palm.

She growled, driving the blade of her dagger into the side of its hand. It howled in pain, which Keyleth took as a good sign. That meant she could hurt it.

The beast yanked it's limb back, a claw slicing into Keyleth's shoulder as it pulled away. She hissed and rolled to her feet, gripping the hilt of her sword in both hands.

It turned to face the charging barbarian, roaring in a blind fury.

 

[Thren]

There was no lithe smoothness to how Thren moved now, no quick dash. Instead he was like a stone falling down the side of a mountain.

Every step thundered, his boots crashed against the ground. He heard the beat roar, it's red eyes shifting and changing to look at him. A smile crossed his face, and then a roar echoed from his lungs.

They screamed at one another, cries of war, cries of battle, cries of determination and death yet to come. Without any breath of hesitation Thren launched himself forward, bounding in a single great leap. The creature moved in the darkness, it's long claws flickering forward. They bit into his armor, scratching through heavy plate and raking across what should have been flesh.

Sparks flew as the creatures claws attempted to cut through the Barbarians flesh, a yelp of pain coming from the beast as it realized it did not hit flesh; but stone.

Thren grinned wide, his hand coming down in one swift decisive movement. He felt his blade strike home, and then with a sudden jerk cut through the creatures arm. The beast howled in pain, it's hand severed just above the wrist.

 

[Keyleth]

Rising up onto her feet was agonizing with the wound running the length of her side, but she ignored the pain and pushed forward. The barbarian proved to be an excellent distraction, drawing the beast's attention away.

A blood-curdling scream shrieked through the main hall as Thren severed the monster's hand. The dismembered limb falling to the stone floor with a wet thud. When it recoiled away from its attacker, speckles of warm, black blood splattered across Keyleth's face.

In a blind rage, the creature lashed out with its remaining arm towards Thren.

Keyleth grit her teeth and took the opportunity that presented itself. As the beast lunged forward, it was lower to the ground in a hunched posture. The duchess rushed the creature's flank, leaping through the air with the sword raised above her head, the blade pointed down towards the beast. She drove the blade through the base of the monster's skull, down to the hilt, as she landed on its back.

The momentum of the impact sent the creature lurching forward and it collapsed at Thren's feet. Keyleth kept her grip on the sword to prevent herself from being flung across the room.

It gave a wheezing final breath and then silence.

 

[Thren]

Thren didn't even blink.

He didn't see the creature fall, it was too dark for that, but he heard the falling crunch of his body. As soon as it died The Siruk took a step to the side and touched a table. There was no sound that came from him, but a sudden weigh was lifted from his shoulders.

Stone skin returned to it's nature, the black across his flesh retreating in almost an instant. At the same time the wooden table suddenly became something itself, it's very essence seeming to harden and become stronger. Beautiful brown varnish twisted into a dull grey, as though the table had been carved from one piece of rock.

When the lights returned the Hall would be lined with cracks where Thren had stepped, and the point he had started would be shattered and broken.

A consequence of his magics. "He got away."

Thren pointed out the obvious, leaning down to wipe the blood from his daggers on the creatures corpse. He frowned for a moment, then looked up.

"Can someone turn on the light?" His magic couldn't accomplish that particular task.

 

[Keyleth]

Keyleth stood, grimacing slightly as she did so. A hand pressed against her side to stem the bleeding from her injury, gritting her teeth together. Had she been in her armor, she likely would have been unscathed.

Torches around the room were reignited by the shaken survivors. As the light filtered through the room, the grisly scene was laid bare. There was blood everywhere, corpses littered the floor, both from the previous fighting and from the monster that Cossick unleashed. The beast itself was a gaunt, twisted thing of matted fur, shadows, and half-rotten flesh. Its head vaguely resembled a canine, but the majority of it was exposed skull and bone.

If Cossick could summon this monstrosity in such short time... what else was he capable of?

She glanced to the barbarian that stood in front of her, pulling the blade from the beast's neck as she did so. "Beslin and his men will have sealed the gates by now. Cossick himself may escape, but he will not be able to take his entire traitorous militia with him."

In his rush to escape, many of Cossick's own men had been locked inside the main hall. Those men were shaken, but had taken it upon themselves to aid the injured and relight the torches. It was almost as if they had woken from a nightmare.

The duchess frowned.

Once, Spell Weavers had been capable of raising the mist wall that now surrounded the city; but her husband had managed to replicate the feat. It had cost him his life, and the lives of many of his most loyal followers; but he had accomplished it nevertheless. There were legends that the Spell Weavers of old could spin magic that could warp a person's mind, influence their thoughts and actions. Had Cossick uncovered something similar?

"Captain." She said sharply, her stern voice cutting through the murmur of voices. "Have Cossick's remaining men brought to the sanctum after you've secured this room. Allow none of them to leave, but none are to be executed without my order. If there are any mages among them, they are to help with the injured. See it done, soldier."

The armored man nodded once and clasped a fist to his chest in a crisp salute, before he turned to carry out his latest orders.

Her attention drifted back to Thren. "Well fought, Mainlander."

 

[Thren]

"You should kill them." Thren said as he stood and sheathed his daggers behind the small of his back.

It was clear that whatever threat the mage posed was gone for now, though The Barbarian couldn't help but gently kick the corpse of the summoned creature. It jiggled slightly, but no more than it should have from the force of impact. A small frown touched Thren's face.

It wasn't natural.

"Can he make more of these?" It was the obvious question. One had been difficult enough to kill, and it likely would have done more damage had it not been so startled by the stone skin. "If so, your city will have problems."

He could imagine a dozen of these wreaking utter havoc within Minaris. Having walked those city streets he could see how easy it would be for these beasts to torment and massacre whatever and whoever they wanted. He doubted that Keyleth had the troops to fight them.

Especially since half her guard had been traitors.

 

[Keyleth]

"I'll see to them once I've dealt with the rest of the city. I need these men to secure the fortress and maintain a foothold here. I can't afford to waste men on a mass execution. Especially when I don't have all the details."

The thought of having to put so many people to death did not sit well with her, but she would be the one to swing the ax if it came down to it. For now, the crisis was far more important an issue than the surviving traitors from the initial onslaught. Mercy could also earn her support, which she was going to desperately need in the coming days.

Those men also had families here within the city. There was little doubt in her mind that they wanted Cossick to let loose any more of those monstrosities to wreak havoc on the civilian populace. Minaris did not have a large enough military force to put a third of the able-bodied soldiers to death. Alive, Cossick's men could still be useful. Dead, they would be doing no one any good.

"He can. It will weaken him considerably though... that is powerful magic that he is drawing on. Summoning demons is.. not a simple task." She cursed, kicking at the side of the beast's flank.

 

[Thren]

Magic always had a price, even his own.

When Thren changed his body, whether it be making it lighter or heavier something always had to pay. Generally he did this by drawing upon whatever was nearby, a stone floor, a wooden table. Anything that would be able to match what he needed. The magic was relatively simplistic in nature, at least compared to summoning demons, but there was still a price.

There always was.

He wondered what Cossick had to pay, and what he would do to continue to pay. Demons were not something that one toyed with idley, especially the sort that could kill half a dozen people inside of just a few moments. Perhaps the man had made a deal of sorts with some greater entity, though Minaris didn't really seem the place for that sort of thing.

Then again, he knew nothing about this. ”Need a Templar.”

He muttered to himself quietly.

Templar were and order of Knights that stood against Magic, demons, and anything of that sort. They could be found throughout most of the main continents, though the Order was so disjointed that one Chapter was wildly different than the next. Its what happened when your organization was thousands of years old and had suffered half a dozen schisms within itself.

Still, one would have been handy.

 

[Keyleth]

"Perhaps. Though I would not trust a Templar here in my city." She remarked wryly, glancing down at the wound on her side. A quiet grunt of acknowledgement escaped her, and she sighed. It wasn't quite life threatening at the moment, but it would slow her down and the longer she went without treating it the more likely it was the wound would fester.

It was difficult to tell if the Barbarian was injured or not. His armor glistened crimson in the flickering light of the torches. He looked fierce, deadly.

She needed her own armor. There was more fighting to be done.

"I need to get properly dressed for this..." She muttered, running a hand through her hair.

 

[Thren]

Thren shrugged at her words.

He'd met a few Templar who were...overzealous in their cause, but he'd also met some who had been more than fine. He wondered briefly if there was a sect in Minaris, though from the way Keyleth had spoken he figured that wasn't the case.

"Now is hardly the time to get naked." The Barbarian commented with a smirk.

In truth though his mind was elsewhere, mainly with the beast that they had slain. The creature lay still now, its hand still severed, but there was something odd about it. He squatted down besides it, inspecting the creatures face. He frowned deeply, wishing that he'd paid more attention to this sort of thing.

Was it a demon? Some kind of werewolf?

Thren honestly had no idea. He had no education, no scholarly background, and his knowledge in magic was more than a little lacking. He was a soldier, a barbarian. He could kill but he couldn't know what.

That had never really bothered him, but right now? Right now he just wanted to know what he was going to fight.

 

[Keyleth]

It was clear to the duchess that Thren was trying to figure out just what the beast was that had attacked them. However, she knew precisely what is was.

"It's called a wendigo." She explained, shaking her head.

All around them the remaining survivors of Cossick's men were rounded up and separated from the rest of the people who were still huddled together in the large hall.

"A demon that was once a man, but was twisted by his insatiable greed and turned into a monster." She spat off to the side, turning to look around the room. "Vile creatures."

The guard captain that she had stopped earlier seemed to be getting a handle on the chaos, and he was doing a rather good job of rallying the survivors together. Keyleth was pleased to see that outright panic had not overwhelmed her men, though the nobles were another matter altogether. Many of the higherborne were sobbing hysterically, clutching at one another, and shouting. The guards were doing the best that could to calm the terror-stricken crowd

Her fingers tapped against the hilt of the sword in thought. It was unlikely that these nobles would have stayed in the main hall, if they knew that Lord Cossick was going to make a move against her. No, these people were likely targets of opportunity as well. There had been plenty of nobles who had called it an early night, however. Those individuals were far more suspect.

 

[Thren]

"I see." Thren said quietly, nodding his head. The only thing he'd really understood was the word "Demon", and that was pretty much enough for him to proceed.

There had once been stories of Siruk fighting Demons, working alongside a Holy Order of some sort to fight back against the darkness. They were nothing but stories of course, children's tales told around the fire to inspire the young ones to have a 'good heart'. Thren had never really enjoyed them.

He didn't fight for good, he fought for money...and because it was fun.

"I need an article of his clothing." Thren said, looking up at Keyleth with a near blank expression on his face. "Larik can track him."

Then they would end this swiftly.

He had to assume that this...Cossick would flee to some sort of fortress or hiding place where he could summon more Wendogoos. The Faster they got to him the safer Minaris would be.