Heavy Air
All things in nature are balanced by God. God created wolves so that deer cannot graze in one place for too long and eat all the grass. God created eagles such that their wings can only allow them to carry small game, else they would take away whole cows. God created men with sins such that they may live holy lives, and atone. God created a world that was fair and equal, where all things were in their rightful place. But man grew too ambitious, they decided that God’s design was not perfect, and that they could improve it themselves. For a while, it seemed that they were right. Some of us were particularly adept at Weaving the Veil, in manipulating the fabric of the mortal plane and commanding it for our own gain. These special people learned to alter the characteristics of things. These special people learned how to turn coals into diamonds in seconds. They learned how to move the heaviest boulders, even hurling them, without even touching them. They learned how to make fire rain down from Heaven. God gave man the ability to wield vast amounts of power. We call these people “Weavers”. But god did not grant man with enough wisdom to know that all things come with a price. And so, when God could no longer tolerate the hubris of man, he punished us. With every tear made to the veil, the corruption of Hell itself into the world. Humans and animals would turn into walking nightmares and wreak havoc upon us. But if one is devout, one knows that god creates challenges that we may overcome them. So we few who are bold enough to overcome these nightmares, who are strong in faith and in courage banded together to protect those who could not defend from God’s punishment.
Jannik had seen it many times before. Boarded up windows, and charms of holly and sage nailed upon doors, While villagers anxiously tried to continue with their day. Even in the presence of imminent death, the wheat does not thresh itself. As usual, their arrival to the village was announced when they were first stopped climbing up the muddy country road. As soon as they had reached the threshold, they were greeted with cheers and were hailed. “O, great knights! We knew you would come to help us! Fortune smiles upon us, people! The Knights of Nimanauer have come! Gather round and hail them! The Knights of Nimanauer are here!” cheered an elderly-looking man.
“Hail, good folk! You have read the Standard correctly!” started Kaylen, “Pray, who among you is the alderman? We must speak of the Demon that plagues your village, and drive it out!” The phrase was met with a triumphant cheering. The elderly man who was hailing them earlier stepped forward form the crowd of beaming and awestruck faces.
“I am, Sir knight! My name is Loth, and I am the alderman of Hagelspar!”
“Greetings Loth, I am Sir Kaylen. Please take me to your home so that we may talk about the beast!” Kaylen was usually the one to handle all the talking, because he was the one who had the patience to deal with the ramblings of simple folk. The interview with the alderman is arguably the most crucial element to the slaying of the monster as it gives one the opportunity to prepare appropriately for the fight ahead. Which is why it is doubly important to have someone who can sift through all the tripe an alderman might say when a Demon is lurking about.
A lack of formal education, as is common among villagers such as these, results in people using their imagination to fill in the blanks for life’s oddities. That is to say, they become superstitious. In times of crisis, superstition can can dominate the mind, the uncertainty grows. And so, the six knights squeezed into the alderman’s tiny mud-and-thatch hut to hear the account of the beast in question. They weren’t alone in the hut, there were two young men sitting on rickety old chairs who raised their heads in a jittery manner, before lighting up desperately upon realizing who they were n the company of.
“Sir knights! You must help us, please...that thing is...” one of the men began, he was slightly shorter than the other.
“Easy, Jory. Sir knights, this is Jory and Luke.” The alderman said. Jory and Luke had clearly been quite shaken by the beast, as their eyes had become sunken, and bloodshot. Their shoulders were slumped over, and it was quite clear they haven’t slept in some time. Their eyes were glazed and lost, and although they looked at one head on, it was unclear if the viewer was truly present. “Sir knights, these are Jory and Luke. These two youngsters were out checking the snares in the woods when the encountered the Phantom. They saw it, and turned tail immediately. The beast chased them, but did not maintain chase beyond the woods. Nobody’s been through the woods, since its now haunted by that thing. It’s turned all dark and evil now.”
“What is happening to the woods? Please be as accurate as you can.” piped up the raven-haired Marik.
“Well, Sir Knight, the woods have gone all corrupted...” started the alderman, “No light breaks through the canopy even on a bright, cloudless day. It is in eternal night. Furthermore, black, foul-smelling fog hangs low to the-”
“Foul smelling? Smelling of what? Corpses? Faeces? Cheese?” Asked Marik. The alderman, slightly surprised by the tone of voice replied,
“I couldn’t...rightly tell you, Sir Knight. But it smells of wrath. It smells like blood.”
“Please continue.” said Marik after he paused to think. The acid burn that marked his face from a previous encounter made it difficult to gauge his thoughts, as it gave him an intimidating countenance without him ever really wanting it to.
“Um...other than that...Oh! She wails! Every night, all throughout the night!”
“She?”
“The demon looks like a wench, though with long limbs, and a rail-thin frame.” said Luke curtly. This one appeared to be slightly more with himself, despite him being slightly younger.
“Are you sure of what you’re telling us?” Marik asked sternly.
“Why should I lie?” he affirmed. The knights all looked to each other.
“Alderman, please may you leave some of us alone with the boys. We have further questions for them that do not require your presence, and we could use a better knowledge of the land. Hardon, Glen and Frejek will go with you. Kaylen, Marik and I will stay to question the boys.” Said Jannik. The boys eyes widened as they looked to their leader, who nervously flicked his eyes between the knights and the boys.
“Um, is that necessary sir knights? We would not wish to impede your divine purge, but they are in a fragile state!”
“No harm will come to the boys over a simple conversation. There is nothing that will happen to the boys that we haven’t dealt with before. Our medics are split between each group. Please, go with our brothers and answer their questions to the best of your ability. We must make good use of our time if we are to find a solution to this problem. After taking a deep breath, realizing that there was no way to say no to the knights, the alderman swallowed,
“Boys...Answer the honourable knight’s questions. I will assist them in my way, and you will assist them in yours.” he said meekly. On of the boys- Luke- stood quickly and started,
“But- ”
“Please boys. They are good, holy men. Answer their questions. All shall be well” the alderman interrupted, and clasped his hands on his shoulders, and he sunk back into his seat, his eyes in disbelief. With that, the alderman hesitantly followed the three Knights from the room, and the three remaining knights now sat alone, with two scared and anxious young men. A moment after the door had been shut behind them, Kaylen leaned in closer to the boys, and said in a stern, but friendly way, “Listen now. We are going to be asking you some more questions about this beast that you witnessed. Do not exaggerate, do not understate, do not omit, and most importantly: do not lie. We are professionals, and we were raised from our bed-wetting years to do this. We will know when you have been misleading, and we will act in accordance to what the scripture says. Are we clear?”
The boys nodded their heads as if they were tykes who had been caught breaking an expensive vase. “Very good. Let’s begin.”
A closer look at the village of Hagelspar revealed... nothing that was too unexpected. Other than the expected atmosphere of terror, the village seemed about as any other. Hardon grew up in a village just like this one. Most of the men that joined the Knighthood did, because that’s where most soldiers came from. The exception being Jannik. He had come from a noble-borne background. He wanted to be a knight as a boy, but he didn’t want the tedium of being a soldier. So for his gavorle, his father ensured that the man who was the previous day a boy, would become a knight. It was a recipe for disaster. Or at least it should have been, had the boy-turned-man not turned out to be competent with a blade. Competent enough to survive five years with the Krigsmanne, something that even experienced soldiers don’t make it to. But Jannik had too many airs to relate to any of the people he tried to help. This was a muddy, poor village that smelled ever so faintly of wet shit. So Jannik never spoke to the common people around here. That job was left to the rest of us. Nevermind that, Hardon just hated the way how the shit likes to decide things for people. It is what it is, and the job gets done regardless.
Hardon, Frejek and Glen took to their duty of investigating and canvassing the village while Jannik, Marik and Kaylen got what they needed from the boys. There are many misunderstandings about how the abominations come about, and even worse, they like to spread terrible ideas about how to stop them. A Tear in the Veil is actually just one part of the concoction need to create one of these demons. The other is as simple as sin. Sin is the force that weaves these creatures into existence, that corrupts the lands, the plants and the animals. If it is strong enough, it will corrupt people too. Corrupted vegetation is a complicated, esoteric problem that required the learned knowledge of the druids to solve, and unfortunately they will have to wait some time before a druid is available to help them with the corruption of the land. But animal-like and man-like beasts can be slain with blade.
A tear, and sin. The two things need to create an abomination. Hardon, Glen, and Frejek began to ask questions of the alderman, who whimpered and quivered his answers. “The cursed forest is over there, my lords.” He said, and hung a crochety finger over to the West. Indeed, there lay a black and dire forest perhaps five kilometres out. In this part of Lonjeir, further in the icy North, thick evergreen conifers poke out from the ground and grow tightly together, providing a dense, dark canopy. But there was something darker about this wood, a blackness that was visible even from here, that seemed to pervade and invest itself in it’s surroundings. An umbral fog, characteristic of an area afflicted by the Taint.
“Did you say the monster lives inside the forest?” asked Frejek.
“Yes, and she does not leave. Or she hasn’t decided to so far. We are afeared that she may change her mind at a moments notice.”
“If that is the case then something may be tying it there.”
“Are you sure?”
“No. Perhaps an artefact ties it there. Perhaps it is food, in which case it will start to wander when it runs out. Then there will be a problem.”
“You think it might’ve been a human?” Glen muttered to Hardon. Hardon shrugged his response. Abominations rarely take a constant shape or form. Some are animal-like, some are human-like but it is never clear how they started out. What they turn into is so twisted and alien deciphering it from it’s morphology alone is a tall order. If the thing was human however, there would be a substantial amount of Taint. Taint only comes from Tears. Though the suspicion among the Knights was clear. They understood why they had to split.
“Sir alderman, the spawning of an abomination requires an irresponsible use of magic. Do you know how that may have happened in these parts?” Hardon asked. He suspected that the alderman might be completely ignorant or spouts some strange superstition, or declare a witch that most definitely lives in the woods, despite none having ever seen her. Surprisingly, the alderman responded,
“I’m surprised you’re unaware, Sir Knight. Hagelspar is a village founded by refugees from decades ago, when the War of Great Sorrows was still happening. Just over there the Battle of Mun Hagel was fought.”
Hardon immediately cursed his own lapse of memory. His own father had been a cavalryman during that war, and he would often tell him fantastical stories of what happened that day. As he grew to know more about magic and it’s nature, he grew to be skeptical of his father’s fantastic stories. But he always believed there had been a single nugget of truth in them. After all, he was alive when it was happening.
“Do you know much about the conflict?”
“Of course. I fought in it.”
“And you still live to tell about it!” remarked Frejek
“I have not lived the same since.” There was a moment of solemn silence while the old man gathered his thoughts. A deep sadness had blanketed the man’s once anxious demeanour, as he recalled past sadnesses that masked future consternation. “They brought Weavers, sire. We could not anticipate that. Even for Mun hagel, it was too much”
“Easy, Grandfather. There is enough time.”
“Sir Knights, must we speak of it? It is a well documented battle.”
“What was written in the history books may not be enough for what is happening now. Please, tell us what happened, that we may understand.”
There is a difference between an inquiry, and an interrogation. Both are necessary in this line of work, as it forms the basis for which the purge may be conducted. Many ignorant people in this nation and the others in the Strait believe that the Nimanauer Krigsmanne simply ingest as much narcotic material they can and fall upon their quarry. To do so is to be send yourselves to your death. Any tactician knows the value of knowing one’s enemy.
While the other’s search for the source of the taint, the source of which should be fairly obvious, Jannik, Kaylen and Marik sat with the boys. There is a difference between an inquiry, and an interrogation. These boys were already terrified, though that younger one was trying hard to convince them that he was unbothered and cool. Jannik and the others were not believing it for a moment. They had to be careful with these boys. Questioning them will not yield the answers they’re looking for. Interrogating them, the Krigsmanne way, may lead them down false paths.
“Describe for us, in detail, what you saw.” Kaylen began
“It’s just as we said Sir Knights. The thing was like a woman, but she were as pallid and stark as marble, and long, spidery limbs.” said Luke, the younger.
“So is it woman-like, or spider like?” asserted Marik. Jannik thought his manner of inquiry was far too on-the-nose, but Marik had the most exhaustive knowledge of monsters. He would spend hours of his own free time examining specimens in order to know them more, even going so far as to cross reference notes with the Weaver’s Academies of the other nations. His overwhelming knowledge of the minutiae of monsters made him impatient at generalities.
“Maybe both? It’s hard to tell.” Said Luke, still putting on his air of indifference. Marik’s expression hardened further. He leaned closer to the youth’s face, and admonished with red-hot words.
“Now is not the time to play brave, boy. Your juvenile behaviour could have any of us dead. We need to know what that thing out there is to make that a slim outcome. Your childish game is not helping!” Marik was a normally prickly person, and for sure was somewhat annoyed by the boy’s uncalled petulance. However he also knew how to use that prickliness and intimidating countenance as more of a performance. Right now he was centimetres from Luke’s face, staring down at him, and making the boy curl away from the very large man. As he attempted to avert his gaze, Marik gripped his chin and forced the boy to look at him. “If one of us is so much as wounded because of your cheek, we will hold you accountable for it.” If one didn’t know Marik, one might have expected him to strike the child. But Marik knew that wouldn’t be helpful.
“Woman-like!” Jory blurted. “It looks like a woman!” He didn’t bear tension well.
“How can you be sure? These things are hard to describe even with time. Does it have tits and round hips?” asked Jannik
“Sir knights, she resembles a woman. She walks on two legs. She even has long hair, if it can be called that, to her back. She screams, with the voices of thousands of women.”
“All of them scream like that. It is the voices of Hell.” said Marik
“It’s a woman, sire. We’ve seen her face.”
“All right, Sir Knights. Let me tell you that tale. Mun Hagel was once an important fortress at the top of the Northern copse over there. As you can see now, it’s a shabby ruin who’s jagged walls now stick out of the earth like weak little saplings. Due to it’s position, Lord Bertrand Feist IV and his predecessors were able to see all around them for many miles. The only blindspot was the Hagel woods. The woods were often used as a defensive barrier, the trees there are stout and fire-hardy, making them very difficult to navigate. I served the Feist family for eleven years, and Bertrand the Third was a wise tactician. Bertrand the Fourth could have been so as well, but he was all of fifteen years old. His father perished but six months prior to the siege, and didn’t leave the boy with much of his talent. We assume then it was illness, but it was probably poison.
The boy relied heavily on his so-called advisor. The man had all the credentials we needed, and was appointed direct by King Guerd XI, we had no reason to suspect a damn thing. In fact, we trusted him implicitly. We trusted that fucking traitor with our lives. His name was Hans Unser, he had been one of the King’s own tacticians for two years before the war even started. Even helped the crown succeed in several notable skirmishes. At some point, maybe even his whole career, those Teraoune dogs had turned him, and it was the Battle of Mun Hagel that he showed his colours.
From the orders we had received, everything was going as expected. The capturing of Mun Hagel would mean that Teraoune had the benefit of a high ground benefit, a large and accomodating barracks, and some of the more fertile land of the region to support it’s troops, not that the land is good for anything now. Mun Hagel also served as a checkpoint for trade heading Northeast to Slezt and Southwest to Luden the Krane coast.. They knew this was an important fort, and God only knows how long they had been plotting this attack. But we trusted the advisor.
We should’ve smelled a rat when only a hand-picked few were designated to be sentries in the woods. We had never had to be too concerned with the woods because a military force large enough to take Mun Hagel could not easily be traverse it. We set up those anti-cavalry spikes the southern folk like to use for charges, and a unit of a measly 100 men -at-arms and 50 archers to watch the Woods. An attack from the North was unlikely as we did think they pushed that far yet. All our focus was directed to the South, where we knew they would be coming. If somehow they managed to push around somehow, we would have another 100 Cavalrymen to swing around and cut down the dregs that filtered out of the forest. We should have trapped the forest. The bulk of the army, two thousand men were at the southern front of the battle, and garrisoned in the barracks.
We knew for weeks that they were coming. They knew we knew as well. You could not really get past Mun Hagel. We assumed we had made all the necessary precautions. The plan looked solid enough to the men, and objections we made were quickly andconfidently swatted away by that verrayjer. They besieged the fort, and made their demands. Two days later, the fighting started. It was going as well as one could expect a major siege to go. It was a long, hard battle, Sires. We gave as much as we got, it was looking to be a weeks-long siege. But the men were still optimistic. I was a bowman in that siege, defending against those we had trapped in the portcullis, those who had not yet managed to scale the walls.”
The old man took a moment to control his emotions, and hung his head in deep remembrance. He could never forget that day, but perhaps he could have found some peace in this village. It was all to clear to the knights that the battle had scarred the old man deeply. Most soldiers, the one’s in the Krigsmanne included, struggled to come terms with the horrors they have seen. The Krigsmanne are fortunate to have faith guide them, and provide them with some form of repentance, even at the high cost of an even more horrific death a the hands of the monsters they faced. But the Krigsmanne are few, and the wayward soldiers of Lonsjeir are many. Like this poor old man, living with the memory of that day, and the ghosts of his fallen brothers. Took in a deep breath, held his chin high, and continued his story, like a good soldier reporting to his king.
“But...we didn’t expect them. Weavers. The bastards had brought in Weavers to hold the forest. It was something we never expected. They weren’t even powerful Weavers either. Teraoune pumped those shits out too fast to be devastating on their own, but as a small unit can have the same effect. This is where your history books may differ. I survived that battle, so I know they were there. Even if we never saw them, we knew they were there. We didn’t notice their tremors at first, they were clever about it. If they started with earth-shattering destruction then it would have been obvious. But they took their time, and slowly, steadily increased the intensity of the quake. Their soldiers began their attack at dawn that day. We had been fighting or maybe three hours, it was going as the previous days had gone. Those Weavers probably started their tremors then. They masked the initial phases with the chaos of battle. Then slowly it became more and more intense. By the time we realized the strangeness, the walls were already starting to crack.
Within minutes, the walls were crumbling, and we were falling. A few of the garrisoned men made it out alive, but not enough. With the walls of the fort in shambles, there was nothing for us to defend, it was clear to us that we either surrendered or killed. Hells, they had even lost a good portion of their own men, but they had cavalry in the wait for this exact moment, taking advantage of the chaos. By some miracle, I had not only survived the falling of the walls, but they believed I was dead, so they simply tossed me in a mass grave with my dead compatriots, my brothers. I sneaked away in the night, while my brothers were rallied and taken as prisoners. And that is the long story of Mun Hagel.”
The Knights took a moment to consider the information he had provided. He was right, there were no official records of Weavers of any kind ever being here. But the evidence was clear as day now, sorcery strong enough to create an earthquake that grew with magnitude over a period of time is more than a significant draw from the Veil to cause a tear. They glanced at the old man, who could have easily been any of their grandfathers. He was distant, in another place, in that place. Maybe he could never truly move on, the shadow of his defeat looming over him would remind him constantly of what he lost. They hadn’t interrupted the old man out of respect, but his speech made it clear to the Knights that he need this conversation. Perhaps he avoided the topic all this time, while it was allowed to fester in him.
“Thank you, grandfather, for your detailed recollection. I dare say, no teacher or lecturer could do a better job, they should refer to you!” Frejek said cheerfully, clasping the old soldier on the shoulder, attempting to introduce some levity. It didn’t seem to work, as the old soldier nodded his acknowledgement and went back to that far away place.
“Thank you, grandfather. But we are still not finished. We need just a bit more information.” Said Hardon. He didn’t want to pester the old man any longer, but they still had a job to do
“Go ahead.” he said, snapping out of his misery.
“As we said, there are two major pieces of the puzzle. You’ve given us, quite accurately, the source of the Taint. Thank you for that. But we still need the other piece. Has there been any major tragedies recently? Murders, rapes, banditry, anything like that?”
“I have a good idea of who that monster might might be Sir knights, though it pains me to say it.”
The men were alert now, as their concerns grew more and more. Again, they looked to each other, to see if they were all having the same thought, and all confirmed with quick eye contact that they were. He knows who she is?
“Grandfather, please tell us.”
Throughout the entire speech, the veteran had kept his composure. Other than getting lost in thought, he did not let his sorrows overwhelm him. For the first time, tears were now welling in his eyes.
“She went missing about one moon ago. Went into the woods at noon to gather blackberries, but when she hadn’t returned by evening, we began to worry.” croaked Jory. Luke, the runt, was now moping in his seat, shaken with Marik’s confrontation. “Us and a few of the other menfolk of the village went looking for her, but weren’t able to find anything. We found not her person, her possessions or her...remains, it was as if she had simply vanished.” Jory choked on his words, bent over and placed his head in his hands, sobbing lightly.
“Forgive him sires. Matilda was to be his betrothed.” said the Runt.
“Matilda, That was her name?” Asked Kaylen, when Jory had gathered his composure.
“Aye, sires. Matilda.” He whispered, pushing past his tears. Marik noted it down in his book. “You know, Luke, you ought to be more cooperative. They’re trying to help.” The Runt kept silent, continued looking out the window, into encroaching night. “Hours turned into days. Days to weeks and we heard nothing from her. Until one fortnight ago, we began to hear the screaming from the woods. We menfolk again went to investigate, and found the woods covered in that black fog that hangs there now. The deeper we ventured the more silent it became. Luke and I were together at the time, that is why we are here. It was silent until we could hear breathing in our heads. Then we heard her voice, calling to us. We called back, but we did not know where to look, where to search. It was directionless” Jory paused. Marik had been fervently noting all this down in his journal, his face hardening more and more as he fit the pieces together. Jory was now shaking, struggling to push past his fear and his sorrow, his face a mess of tears and snot. The Runt remained looking out the window, but he was visibly clenching his jaw with some unidentified resent. “We heard the footsteps. Boom...boom...boom! And then... oh gods, then we saw her face! Her beautiful, soft face hollow and wrathful grafted onto this fucking...creature! It was not her body sires, it was so wholly disgusting, some part-spider, part-human... God, Gertruse! What happened? Who did this!?” Wailed the man. Luke had taken his friend into his arms.
“We are sorry, young man.” Said Kaylen
“Fat load that is.” Mouthed off the Runt, glaring at the Knights with resent. “We reported her missing to Lord Riley not one day after her disappearance and no help came. Not one single man-at-arms from that barracks of his gave any assistance. Now that she is a monstrosity, we can’t go into the forest to snare rabbit for his plate, so he sends you people here to clean it up. Disgrace!” Jory continued to weep into his friend’s arms, and only the sounds of his sobbing could be heard, as the sun touched the horizon. “Is there anything else, sires or are we done?” Hissed the Runt.
“Is there anyone else we may speak to, who may know more about that.” asked Jannik.
“Ask anyone. She was the Alderman’s child.”
“It weren’t unlike her to go out alone like that, not at all.” Said the girl. Menda, was her name. After the Alderman’s recounting of his daughter’s disappearance, he directed them to speak to some of the ladies in the village who may know more, while the other three interrogated the boys, who were suddenly closer to this case than previously thought. From what the alderman had said, this mission was looking particularly grim. The conclusions that were being drawn implied that the hunt would not be simple. They hoped, Marik, Kaylen and Jannik brought more favourable news. Frejek was the one who started conversations with Menda, reportedly one of the girl’s friends. Usually reserved and shy, Frejek had started the conversation purely because he found her before any of the others did, which he probably now wishes he hadn’t. Menda, a girl who was actually quite comely had a something of a forward personality that had made the Frejek, ferocious in battle but painfully awkward with women and really anyone who had some authority over him. Frejek was scarred and visibly battered like most of the Krigsmanne, but only he and Jannik had managed to keep all their teeth. This rugged-but-still-good-looking face, apparently, had tickled young Melda’s fancy. “Now me, I wouldn’t go into the woods without one of the other ladies of the village. I would take a man, but none in the village bold enough to take me.” she said, playing with his mail. “You look quite sturdy.” She added in low, low tones.
“Ah, yes, thank you...miss.” he fumbled, his face red hot.
“All the looks of Kaylen at his age with none of his grace, eh?” Whispered Glen to Hardon as they observed him from a distance. They couldn’t hear the conversation but could see the direction it was going based on their body language.
“Wouldn’t know, old man, he’s always looked a battered bastard to me.” he chuckled back.
“Ahem, so, Matilda, would you have any idea, why she would go into the forest like that?” Said Frejek, hastily gathering his composure.
“Oh not really. I was never really that close to her.” she said.
“Really? The alderman said you two were quite close.” said Frejek. Subtly, his posture had changed. He had stopped leaning tensing and pulling away slightly, and was now started to lean in to the conversation a little more.
“Oh what do these old men know. They see a bunch of ladies speaking to each other and they assume conspiracies!” She said, waving her hand towards the Alderman’s hut, where the boy’s were being interrogated. “Really, we’re just talking. That doesn’t mean we’re a coven or anything. I’m actually quite close to God, you know. I believe His word, and would be happy to demonstrate good ladyhood, to someone like yourself.” she said, still stroking the mail. Frejek was trying hard to push through the discomfort, and appear cool and collected.
“He’s making progress. He seems to have picked up on something” Said Hardon. “Remembered when he was too far gone, and that barmaid had him so flustered when she asked him if he fancied anything more?
“He began choking on his own drink! Hah! The curse of beauty! How he manages with all the nursemaids touching him when he’s all fucked up in the barracks is beyond me.” Said Glen.
“Of that I have no doubts.” said Frejek, trying his best to channel Jannik’s debonair confidence, “But surely, you women share things you don’t want those crusty menfolk to know. It’s only natural after all, ladies need their discretions.” The words weren’t quite there, and neither was the spirit. However, this seems to have made the Menda the Ferocious, even more keen than it would have if he had been more suave. She stopped playing with the ringlets of his cuirass, and now was palm-open rubbing his chest. This sent another round of suppressed chuckling among the two ugly veterans.
“Is that what those Nursing Sisters in the barracks are like? That’s a shame. We country folk, are more practical, more...open.” She said, looking through her lashes. A lump was forming on Frejek’s throat as he grasped around in his mind for the right scriptures to aid him. His face was hot as blacksmiths irons, and on this cold day was wondering if you could see steam coming off the top of his head. In a move that was a shock to everyone involved, including Frejek, he quickly took gentle hold of her wrist and pulled her closer to him, to which the veterans raised their eyebrows and Menda had let out a quiet gasp. If she was amused by the handsome knight before, she was titillated now, her eyes were fixed on him, large and wide.
“Oh, but I do love secrets. Makes my job a little lighter.” he cooed. He was no longer in control of his actions. Some alien force had taken control. In totally alien territory for himself now, he let it take control. A part of him was aware that more people than his mentors were watching them now.
“What do you need?” She asked, smiling slightly.
“I need to know why the Alderman’s daughter went into that forest without telling anyone. The village could depend on that. I would be very grateful.”
“Can you keep a secret?” She whispered. He nodded. She stood up on her toes and he leant over to meet her. God save me and this girl he thought. Her hot breath tickled his ear, and her labour-hardened and dirty fingers were unusually gentle on his skin as she cupped over. But his facade broke, as the words came pouring out. Reality slowly came back into focus, as he met the watchful eyes of his mentors and wondered what they thought of him right now. This was the kind of information he was hoping not to hear. She withdrew, pleased with herself. But noticing how his expression had changed from flirtatious to consternated, she grew unsteady. “Are-are you well?”
“You are sure about this?” he said sternly.
“It’s but a rumour. But...I’ve noticed it myself.”
“Can anyone confirm it’s validity?”
“No, sire. Other than...you know.” She was looking away now, at her feet.
“I do.” He said. With a pang of guilt, knowing what he had done, knowing that he had used her attraction against her, he hesitantly brought both of her hands to his lips, and said, “Thank you, Menda. I will not forget this. You’ve done us a great service.”
“Its...no problem at all. She said, red-faced. “God be with you.”
She said, and turned away to continue her chores.
“God is with you.” he called back as she walked away. Frejek wasn’t particularly proud of himself for his deception, but he got the information he needed, and had to report back to Hardon and Glen. In another life, Menda he thought. Heavens, it was approaching twilight already. He had noticed the two elders chuckling to each other earlier, but put on an authoritarian stance now.
“Are you done openly flirting with the common folk, or can we get back to work?” grumbled Hardon, feigning irritation well enough that Frejek didn’t notice.
“You should be ashamed for exercising such baseness on good people. We are men of God!” Said Glen. “What have you to say? Eh? Why are you pulling that face?” Glen tried to keep up the angry persona, but he became concern when Frejek didn’t react. Behind them, Marik, Kaylen and Jannik were leaving the Alderman’s hut. Marik looked to be in a fury, and the other two, just dour. Kaylen regarded Glen, “Have you learned anything?” He asked
“Jannik seems to have something to tell us.” said Glen. “Those tykes give you anything?”
“We need to reconcile what we know. Away from these people. Let’s set up camp and discuss. The sooner this gets done, the better.” Said Kaylen
“Couldn’t agree more.” said Frejek.
The Nimanaeur Temple is the first home of the Krigsmanne. Once a Knight enters the Temple Order, all ties to their old life are severed. They will spend the rest of their days there, until they are dead, pardoned, or excommunicated. The campfire then, is the Krigmanne’s second home, and to many it is a much greater comfort. The beds may not be soft, the food may not be warm, and the road may be hard. But to be in the presence of your brothers, without being in the watchful eyes of the Temple Fathers, and Nursing Sisters offers liberation they can find nowhere else. A place to discuss, debate, jest and jibe, openly.
But the campfire is also a place of solemn discussion, debate, judgement and jurisdiction. It is shelter not only from the eyes of the Fathers and Sisters, but also from the folk of the land. The folk, who may not always understand their methods, or their thinking. It is a place of refuge for the knight. The six knights gathered round their campfire and began brewing their concoction. Holy Water is added to the pot.
“So, what did the girl have to say, Frejek?”
“She...says that for some time the womenfolk have been talking... Talking about the alderman’s daughter. That she has been seen to wander into the woods alone, without telling anyone.”
“This much we have gathered.” said Marik.
“Some of the other women have tried to follow her, to see what she does, but always lose her as if she vanishes, and turn back.”
“Possibly witchcraft” says Kaylen.
“But they kept watching her. Entering the forest. Leaving the forest. They ask her why, and she said she enjoys the isolation. For this reason, the other women of the village find her odd, and she was shunned.”
“On with it, Frejek. It will be nightfall soon.” says Hardon.
“Except she never enters alone. The girl, Menda, says she has spied another entering and leaving the forest just after her. Every time. It’s the other boy, brothers. It’s Luke.”
“What do you mean to say, Frejek?” says Jannik.
“It is commonly believed among the womenfolk that they are courting in the forest while Jory is tending fields. Luke is a trapper, so he naturally enters the forest regularly.”
“So while the good man ploughs the field his best friends ploughs his betrothed? Wretched.” says Glen, “Can we trust these women to be the honest sort? I don’t like it when they gather like that. It breeds their imaginations.”
“Some are married, some are still maidens.” continued Frejek
“Besides, adultery, while unforgivable, isn’t enough to mould the Taint like this. No there is more to this story.”
“Yes. On the night of her disappearance, saw that only Luke had left the forest, and Matilda did not.”
“She did not see fit to alert anyone to this? Said Hardon, annoyed.
“She supposed that she had missed her.”
“The Alderman did mention that he had questioned Luke about it, but Luke didn’t have any answers.” Said Glen. Killian Mushrooms in a hessian pouch are steeped in the water.
“You suspect murder, Frejek?” asks Hardon, testing the young knight, measuring his aptitude. The young knight stares into the fire and nods.
“The creature is angry. It haunts the forest, screaming in agony. This is pain, pain felt prior to death. It is not hunger, like that hunger felt by a whore.” says Marik “Murder is likely.”
“We have no proof of it. How are we to know that the beast is this girl?” says Glen
“The boy, Jory, says he witnessed her face. As did Luke.” said Jannik.
“Not strong enough of a testimony. We have slain beasts who take different aspects to different people before.” Says Kaylen.
“Perhaps their guilt is what binds the boys. The guilt of a lover who could not protect his woman, and the guilt of a man who beds that same woman.” proffers Marik, looking to the horizon. “Adultery itself is not enough. We cannot assume that infidelity caused all this pain.”
“Why, though?” Asks Frejek
“Jealousy perhaps. Perhaps he wanted her for himself. Perhaps she wanted to end their affair. Perhaps in an emotional fit he ended her life, intentionally or otherwise.” Said Jannik.
“Lust, envy and wrath.” Said Marik. “All wrapped up in a neat package in the middle of a Tainted battleground.”
“Well it doesn’t fucking matter now does it?” said Glen “We know enough to kill the thing, and punish the boy.”
Three drops of Mount Aljoore’s Adder’s venom are added to the pot. It is a simple concoction, misunderstood by many foreigners to be nothing but a narcotic. Locals, however, know it is tradition that guides this recipe. Holy water, to protect them in the Tainted land. The venom comes from the Grand Snake that protected Jeir, our Lord, the Divine Orphan, or at least a cousin of it. The Mushrooms fortify the spirit, heart and mind, and allows God to lend the knights some of their strength. The fungus also prevents the venom from outright killing you, and instead fills one with a euphoric numbness to pain.
Monsters are big, and intimidating. A lone warrior’s chance of survival drops significantly if caught on their lonesome. The Good Book states that “The lone wolf stays hungry.” For most, it is an analogy for people to build communities of people that they trust. But the Knights this is literal advice. Wolves are relatively small compared to their pray, a single elf can quite easily dispose of one audacious wolf. But that same elk would suffer greatly if cornered by a cunning and calculated pack. This behaviour is not lost on the Knights.
“Frejek,” called Hardon. “It’s time to see if you’re any good on the hooks.” The young man rose his head from the watching the flames, now staring wide-eyed at his superior. Glen pulled his old partner aside a step away from the fire.
“Hardon, is this wise?”
“We hardly ever hunt in full packs these days. We must ascertain the boy’s skill at binding, all knights need to have that ability.”
“He has only been on one hunt prior to this, and that was a corrupted boar!”
“Precisely why he needs this now. All of us are here, we can help him. Yes, the danger is great, but when is it ever not?” Glen turned away and looked at the still training young recruit. “Look, I understand. We can’t lose another knight so early in his career. But that’s our lot. You and me. This is precisely what Father Jost would have done when he was hunting. You remember Father Jost?”
“Yes I remember that old sadist. Many young men met their end before his own.”
“And created a stronger brotherhood for it.” Glen let out a long sigh.
“I can’t watch more young men perish, Hardon. I’m an old soldier. I’ve seen it too many times.”
“As have I. Which is why we must train him properly. Who knows? Perhaps he’ll prove us wrong, like Jannik.”
“I hope that you are right. For himself, and yours.”
In the evening dusk, the villagers huddle into their homes, and they will pray. In the evening dusk, the wolves will pierce the woods, and stalk their prey.
It’s not known why the monsters seem to only come in the night, but the pattern is clear. They aren’t animals, they don’t sleep. It’s not even certain whether eat for nutrition, or feed out of hunger. Nevertheless, the monsters in the darkness of night are far more common than those that roam the day. It is cold night in the Nimanauer valley, and the air that hangs over the Hagel wood is thick, and caustic. The Knights of Nimanauer pierce through the thicket, like a snake through the grasses. In this cold night, sweat drips down their face as their heart beats a sinister taboo faster than any man’s should.
Killing, even in the name of the Lord, is nasty business, be it man or monster. But the Lord made it such that it must be done. One cannot let the lynx devour his lambs for fear of murder, and man cannot let his brothers and sisters to fall to abominations. The reasoning for which these creatures exist is second to the cause of exterminating it. The Knights of the Nimanauer are agents of God, and they were destined to do God’s work.
The black mist was beginning to rise, and thicken. Iron- it’s sanguine scent of wrath wafted to the nostrils. A familiar thud, thud, thud was resounding in the heads of the Knights. A curiosity of the monstrosities is that they are always heard as if they are in your head, regardless of distance. They get quieter as you recede, and louder as you approach, but they always sound like they’re in your head. Thud, thud, thud, the thought was unanimous: It’s time to fan out.
Keeping in eyesight of your fellow hunters is key to a successful ambush. Every member of a team must know their purpose, and every other member’s intentions. This hunting pack has six knights, and all will be tested tonight. Two knights are armed with javelins and heavy crossbows powerful enough to slam a bolt through plate armour. They are supported by two of their brothers, armed with chains and claymores. Then there are the bruisers of the bunch who, with prowess and sheer ferocity of shield and axe will take the beast head on while the others work the plan. The aim of the fight is to subdue the prey, and then execute.
But first one must have sight of it. They haven’t scouted these woods. They do not know what secrets lie here. It was almost, or perhaps it was, supernaturally dark in the woods, not only for the time of night they had begun the hunt but due to the thick black mist that submerged their ankles. The word for that mist is “jokansanauern”- directly translates to “air of Hell”. They would have been completely blind had it not been for their little tincture they brewed earlier that dilated their pupils into dark pits where no light escaped. Even then, not knowing where your foot was landing, being unsure of the terrain you are fighting in is treacherous ignorance. But to light even the most humble of candles is to eliminate surprise. The thing already knows you’re here even if it’s not to pinpoint accuracy. Once you enter the beasts domain, it is always aware. There is no need for you to further announce your presence.
The beast however, does not have such reserve. A shriek was heard in the mind in every night, the shrillness of which brought tears to the eyes. It was a tormented, sorrowful, enraged wail that drew the breath out of your lungs and much to the dismay of the knights, distinctly feminine in it’s cadence. Pure loathing, pure rage. Would this be an ordinary creature of this realm, it would be akin to the hissing of a viper, or the roaring of a bear, a simple statement: “Leave.” However, this was not the cry of an ordinary creature. Invariably, what it was trying to communicate was “I am coming for you.”
On the other hand, it ensured the Knights that they were not heading in the correct direction. All looked to their right, towards Marik, and the end of the line. He nodded, and pointed to his right. Slowly, quietly, the knights all changed their positions in the thicket. The night grew colder, and now each breath was led by a puff of vapour, which vented out of their helmets in soft jets. As soon as it was noticed, the knights tied scarves over their mouths and noses to mitigate their presence further. Fighting the corruptions of magic is ferocious, savage, and bloody. It pushes the abilities of men to their absolute limits, asking them to perform vital calculations in the direst of battles, where the consequences are gruesome and cruel, even to the hardest of veterans. However, the moments before the battle can be the most taxing on your spirit.
There is a phenomenon that occurs in this work that isn’t found in many other places. Marik calls it the “Prey-Predator Paradox”. In simple terms, the monster and the knights are in a deadlock of power. In nature, the wolf hunts the deer, the owl hunts the hare, and man hunts them all. But when stalking monsters, man hunts the monster, and the monster hunts the man. They are in perpetual deadlock until, the hunter is hunting the hunter, until one of them breaks the cycle. No two farmers can reap the same grain. Together, the knights are strong enough to eliminate the monster, who alone is capable of taking out the Knights. To the untrained mind, this constant flipping of the power dynamic can lead to great anxieties. There are many whom, on their first hunt, are overwhelmed by their senses before the fight has even begun, being reduced into fits of panic and mania, collapsing to the floor. The heartbeat races, the breath quickens and the world begins to spin. Every sound, and micro-movement becomes an immediate and present danger. But to flee, is forbidden. The mark of a good Knight, is the ability to cope with this stress. You may not be the strongest fighter, nor the smartest, but if you can maintain your calm, you will live to see another day, probably. Many turn to prayer in these moments, the comfort that God guides them eases the mind. Some, like Marik, turn to cold reasoning, they use the power of the mind to overcome their fear. But all the knights face it. And they faced it now in particular, as they prowled through the thicket, waiting for their first glimpse of the demon.
Thud, thud, thud. It’s getting louder. They’re getting closer. Were they footsteps? Never mind, there’s no time to intellectualise it. Dead ahead, it’s dead ahead. No, no its moving to the right again. Shit, they’re going around in circles. Thud, thud, thud. To the left now, perfect unison. What’s Frejek doing? That’s too slow he needs to pick up the pace. Its only his third hunt, he’s panicking a little but... he’s hanging in there. Movement? No just the fog. Damn it’s getting dark. At least some moonlight would have helped. Thud, thud... Handsign, stop and drop low. Thud, thud, thud. They’re moving away. They’re very close now, if only they could see the thing. They should’ve added more venom, can’t see worth a shit. Need to find it first before it finds me, it’s crucial. What’s that rustling over there? Wildlife? No wildlife should be anywhere near here. No, nothing. The forest is an enemy. It hides my prey, it hides my hunter. All darkness and fog and trickery. Shadows in the night. Shadows in the night cast darker than the night itself. Sweat drips down the faces behind steel helmets. Chainmail clinks softly under the Knight’s tabard, the for-staved cross of Jeir emblazoned on it. Thud, thud, thud...thud. Found you.
The beast let out a truly horrific cry. Similar to the one heard earlier, but now clearer, more distinct. It was a choir of pain. A woman’s voice ran through the middle, the root of a foul melody. The voice was shrill, and twisted, harmonized with many other cries of pain. Men, women, children, babes. Agony. It was agony. They didn’t need Hardon’s hand signal, the Knights were already concealing themselves in the vegetation. Jannik found himself next to Frejek, who was beginning to lose his cool. They had swapped roles, Jannik was a shooter, and Frejek was his trapper. He clasped an arm on his shoulder and gripped tightly. He needed Frejek to stay calm. Reassured, he slowed he started to breath deeper, and his shoulders relaxed. Jannik could see his lips moving. He was praying. The beast they looked out onto was rare indeed. The description by the two runts in the village was apt. A ten foot tall ghoul, twisted and malformed. Though of human anatomy, the best was bent out of shape, its back arched at a cruel angle to accommodate a quadrupedal posture. The arms and legs were elongated beyond their proportions, and did not end in hands and feet, but in sharp stakes that pierced the soil. The skin was dead and pallid, the belly distended with rotting bloat. Black hair covered an eyeless face, and jaw hung open so wide it looked as though a child could stand within it.
The knights remained low. It hadn’t seen them yet. They weren’t in an ideal position, they should have surrounded the creature completely but it was too late to adjust their position now, a full-frontal approach was the only way. The standard formation leaves the shooters on the flanking ends of the line. It’s their responsibility to initiate the fight. Their crossbows are loaded with heavy bolts, too heavy to operate while standing, and are tipped with large barbs to dig and lodge themselves into the creatures hide. The end of each bolt holds a loop for a chain. Jannik sets crossbow on the floor to the left flank and lies prone, waiting for the signal. The creature knows it is being watched, but cannot tell where from, as it begins to circle and investigate its surroundings. Both shooters try their best to swivel their weapons and keep a bead on the creature, but the more it moves around, the more difficult it becomes.
A horrible, dissonant, grinding drone sounded out through the forest. It sounded unearthly, certainly not of this realm. It reminded one of whale call, if the whale in question had its vocal cords sliced and cut, and the grinding of steel against steel. It was infernal for sure, but this sick music had a charming effect on these damned creatures. Long exposure to this music would surely drive any good man insane, but for the Knights it is almost necessary for bigger abominations like these. And sure enough, the music began to take its course. It turned it’s foul gaping maw toward Glen, who blared out the profane tune on the jokansflet- the Hell flute- and took small, curious steps towards him, Like a cow to the herding call. “Still a fucking animal.” thought Jannik. If it wasn’t so disgusting, it may even be endearing. This is the opportunity.
Frejek hastily locked a heavy steel chain to the base of a sturdy tree, and lit a dim red lamp. They waited for the other lamp. The music was still blaring, and the beast was getting uncomfortably close to Glen, at the front. Jannik wasn’t happy about that. His hand was getting heavier around the trigger lever, but he had to hold, and wait, taking deep, purposeful breaths. The creature wasn’t ten meters away now, if it got any closer it was going to see Glen. If it got the drop on them, they wouldn’t be able to react fast enough to prevent an attack. But still, no signal came from Kaylen. “What the hell is going on?” thought Jannik. “We keep holding out like this, the old man is going to die!” He knew he had to wait, but he feared his own nerves may not last that long. Then finally, faintly, a dim red light shone weakly through the heavy mist. Jannik checked his aim on the creature, and Frejek extinguished the light. “Three, two, one.” And like clockwork, the other light was extinguished.
At that same instant twin two-pound bolts ripped though the mist, and sunk their teeth into their quarry. The beast lifted its head and let out a howl of pain that dripped with rage and sorrow. At an inhuman speed, it rotated around, searching for the assailant, and was struck upon finding many. Now, Glen and Hardon breached from their hiding and sunk spears into the beast as they did, letting out a battle cry of their own. Another howl of rage, and now the surprise was over. The beast seemed not to care for the spears protruding from it’s body and immediately swiped at the two old warriors, but their shield were already up and ready to receive the blow. The knights shield is large and heavy, but it is necessary to withstand blows such as this creature. The sheer speed at which this thing could attack was beyond any man’s deft movement, as it stabbed, slammed and wailed upon the barricades. Jannik and Kaylen immediately rose to their feet and sunk two javelins into the creature. Frejek, and Hardon rushed into the fray. Having noticed that there were two other humans who were not hiding behind two barricades of steel, the creature shifted its attention to the rest of the party. In particular, it seemed to fixate on Frejek, letting out a mournful wail. Frejek stopped dead in his track, transfixed by the odd melody. “Snap out of it boy!” Cried Hardon, but just as he did, the beast struck out at Frejek and sent him flying back into a tree hard enough that the trunk splintered.
Before the beast had enough time re-position and chamber, Marik had successfully sunk his axe into the creature, and began to grapple onto it. This particular action had sent the creature further into it’s feral rage immediately beginning to thrash and buck, bending it’s head back in an impossible angle to snap at him. Marik grasped onto it firmly, and after a hard struggle manage to lock his chain into one of the bolts that had buried into it. All the while Glen and Hardon were attempting to land blows on it, but the erratic movement made for a hard target, particularly for Kaylen and Jannik who stuggled again to maintain a fix on the target with their javelins. Eventually, it managed to throw Hardon off onto the floor below. It’s long, quadrupedal form began to bend backwards and raise it’s front legs upward in a feat of balance that does not lend itself to a four-legged form, and its fanged jaws breached open to prepare for a massive biting attack on him. Had Marik been alone, this would be his demise. But he had his brothers with him. Brothers to whom the beast now had its back turned. Glen managed to slash its right hind leg, knocking it off balance and into the dirt. The disarmed Marik deftly punched the creature away from him, and scrambled into the woods, where Frejek lay. Perhaps making the medic fight in the front-line wasn’t the best decision after all. Now, for the moment, there were two Knights out of the fight. However, the tide of battle was in the their favour. The creature let out a painful wail, as it turned to it’s other assailants, dragging around its injured limb, looking to which of their assailants to attack next. It decided to press on Hardon and Glen further, and weakly pounced at them. Though it’s movements were slower, the attacks were still strong, fast and feral. The two stalwarts found trouble in landing a hit amongst the flurry of attacks hurtling their way, and almost had them on the ground. However, the two experienced trappers knew what had to be done.
In a role more suited to them, Jannik and Kaylen broke out of their distanced positions and rushed the creature again. Jannik broke his course and went for the heavy chain that Frejek had dropped when he was battered aside. Sharp as a razor, the beast turned around having heard new danger behind it. It groaned and limped around to pounce on Jannik, only to be dragged back down by Kaylen’s strong pull on the one attached chain. “Stay put, bitch!” he yelled. In response she roared at him, expressing her bloody intentions. She raised her pike-arm for an attack, but the old guards rushed her with their shields, knocking her over, and following swiftly with quick strikes into her side. This gave enough time for Jannik to pick the chain up, and finish the bind that Frejek had started. He looped the chain around the bolt while the demon was toppled and suppressed by Hardon and Glen. He and Kaylen pulled hard on the chain, and held the creature in place, while Glen and Hardon continued to pierce the side of the creature, losing much of it’s fould black blood. It had begun to show genuine fear. Resentful screaming, full of merciless rage had waned into whimpers and sobbing, yes sobbing. Though this did not stop them, and though none were sure of it, they all felt they could here the phrase “Why?” being repeated. The sounds were always human-like, but so far had been distortions. However, now it was becoming more and more human.
Eventually the creature stopped making any noises, and was now breathing heavily. The knights were almost done with their work, but something was bothering those that stood around. Marik and helped Frejek with the pain and was now standing over the dying beast with his remaining brothers. Like other abominations, the creature had a thick black ooze as blood. A blood that now covered them. However this black ooze, had given way to a thin, bright red liquid. It was reverting back to its original state. Marik began reciting the execution prayer, “O Lord, as you gave your power to Jeir, lend to me your strength. This maiden, Matilda Loth von Hagelspar, was your divine creation. And from man’s meddling we have created a monster! Forgive her soul as she enters your Kingdom, and her soul is Purified by the holy waters of the Soul River. Our responsibility is done, and we now beseech you, that she may find peace in the after life!”
“Stop! No!” cried a feeble voice from behind them. The Alderman had followed them into the woods and hid while they fought. “That’s my girl! My only child, please, look again! She is no beast! Please, she can be saved!”
“Turn back, old man. This is not your concern.” Kaylen intercepted his path, and held the man from proceeding. The other knights did indeed look at the beast, and noticed her natural skin tone was returning, but her unnatural form remained. “Please help.” She gasped.
“Turn back, father. It is too late for your daughter. Her soul belongs to God now. She must sent to her salvation.” Re-iterated Kaylen. The Alderman tried to wrestle him, but Kaylen punched him onto the floor and subdued him “Please! Please!” He cried. Kaylen tried to look away from the man’s teary eyes, and snotty nose. This respected elder was turning back into a child. He turned the old man around so he couldn’t see his face.
“She will be safer now, father.” Kaylen said, trying to reassure the old man “Stop fooling around, get it done!” He shouted to his brothers. Snapping out of their confusion, Marik flipped the beast over to her back, and to all’s surprise, her human facial features were starting to return. Human eyes were now staring back at Glen, who stood over her, with the point of the Holy Blade Ovjeiran above her heart. “Begone, foul curse! Release this girl from your Corruption!” and slammed the blade down through her heart.
Slowly, the beast took it’s final breaths. Usually, this would be somewhat uneventful as life ebbed away. However in this unusual case, with every final breath she took, the curse literally let her go. Her skin tone returned to her natural shade. The hair went from midnight black to straw blonde. The eyes, that were once black and hollow became a dark oaken brown. Her form that was twisted and contorted into painful shapes and angles now reverted back to their youthful form. The hateful anger, turned to a shocked face, red blood flowing from a petite, upturned nose.
She was no more than seventeen years-old. But now she lay lifeless on the soft forest floor, hair splayed out and nude. The black fog lifted. And the knights were left with a weeping old man, and his dead daughter in the middle of the forest. This had never happened before. The knights mourned this child with the old man. This child whom moments before was a rampaging monster, hell-bent on eradicating them all. “Great injustice was done on this girl.” Smouldered Marik, “Alderman. Find your strength, and bring those boys to us.”
“No!” He shouted, “No, I will not!”
“What?”
“I will not bring them! I will not find them! What will you do with them? Enough children have perished!” Marik, stormed over to Kaylen and pushed him aside. He arrested the old man by his arm, before bringing him to his feet, and pulling him to his deceased child.
“Look! Look at this! Look at her!” The man tried to crane his neck away, but Marik ensured he man looked into her eyes. “They were involved. This crime cannot go unpunished. Surely, you can see that.”
“You have no proof! No evidence!”
“Then who?” The man let out a cry, for he could not answer. Marik let him go, and he fell to his knees, cradling his daughter, and weeping at his loss. He stayed like this for a while before whimpering,
“Please sir knights. I have lost my wife, and now my only child. I do not wish to lose any more. Thank you for your service. Jory will has your donation ready. Please go. Your job is done.”
The knights are forbidden for asking for payment for their services, as holy men. But donations are often collected, if anything, as a matter of gratitude. Donations often help in addition to the funding collected by the Royal Court’s taxes, part of which the King must donate as tithe to the church. But to deny the common man safety from grave danger over coin is grounds for excommunication. Frejek now suffers with possibly several fractured ribs that must be taken care of, and was brought back into the village in the arms of his brothers. “Good people! The beast is slain!” proclaimed Kaylen. The townspeople cheered and shouted, embraced and kissed each other. It was the end of a long, long time of fear, anxiety and desperation for them. Some had even wept with glee. “Our brother has been injured greatly by the beast, if you can in any way assist, good people, please come forward now. Further, the alderman has requested that two strong men assist him in the forest! Speak to Sir Glen for direction to his location.” The townspeople quickly rushed to regale the knights, showering them in flower petals that made one wonder where they had found it. Some of them even gave offering of bread- a generous offer for any village. Some of the womanfolk, Menda included, rushed to Frejek’s aid, who seemed all to keen to be receiving the attention. He may have had the chance to enjoy it more had Marik not decided to follow them tp the hut they were taking him to. Kaylen and Jannik walked together to Jory’s house. It was understood that the two most personable of the knights should confer with the grieving man.
Upon arriving at his hut door, they knocked upon it three times to no answer. “Jory? The beast is slain. Your woman’s soul is released from this realm. She will rest and smile upon you from God’s Kingdom.” said Kaylen.
“Jory? We understand you are grieving, but the alderman asked us to speak with you.” said Jannik. There was a moment more of silence before shuffled footsteps were heard behind the door, before he opened it fully. He had been crying, nay, weeping for some time. It was clear he had not slept through the night. “Aye sir knights. Thank you for your service. Maybe now she may rest in peace.” He said, and forced a weak smile. “I suppose this is regarding the donation? I left it with Luke to give to you as I wished to not be bothered. He swore to me he would, so...maybe one of the other knights found him?” The knights looked to each other and looked back at the man.
“Alright. Rest easy. She is with God now. Jeir has sure guided her to his throne.” Said Jannik.
“She most certainly has sir knights, for she was an angel trapped in this cruel world. Maybe now she is where she belongs.” He replied, and returned to his hovel to wallow a bit longer. The knights, uncertain of this new development, returned back to the village centre where Glen and Hardon were trying very hard to dissuade the villagers form preparing any celebrations. The Kaylen and Jannik conveyed the news to Glen and Hardon who were similarly concerned about this development. They said that they haven’t seen the young man around in the streets, and wasn’t sure where he was.
“Sir knights, may I interject?” asked a woman’s voice. It was Menda, the girl who was flirting with Frejek prior to the hunt.
“What is it, good woman?” asked Kaylen.
“I heard you speaking about Luke. Are you looking for him?”
“Yes, good woman. Jory has informed us that he gave the donation to Luke for us.” the young lady scowled and looked over the hills to the Northeast.
“That cheeky fucker.” She said quietly.
“Excuse me?” asked a bewildered Hardon.
“He’s made off with the donation.”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“Luke’s gone. Said he had ‘Some business in Slezt.’ I asked ‘What business could you have in Slezt?’ And he tells me to fuck off and mind my own! He made no fucking mention to me about any donation”
“Please, woman, speak plainly.” Said Glen. She rested her hands on her hips and looked to the floor.
“Luke, left in the dead of night while you was out hunting. I was up late thinking about...never mind that. But I caught him and asked him what he was up so late for. But he made no mention to me about the donation. He simply told me to mind my own, that a woman should never question a man, and in fact a woman up so late at night must be a whore! My apologies, sir knights, for getting emotional, Luke’s always been a boor but he had never spoken like that to me before.”
“So the boy fled?”
“And took the donation with him, most likely. I will ask any of the others if he had given it to them.” The knights looked to each other, clearly all were red with anger, but were keeping it at bay.
“Alright. Thank you good woman. We will leave in the coming hours. How’s our boy?”
“Oh. He will recover. That scarred knight, he’s a steely one. He says he will be fit to train again in six months. ’Til then he’s bedridden.” She said.
“Thank you, miss. We will pray that you and this village will find prosperity. And that Luke, if he as betrayed this village, shall find penance or salvation.” said Kaylen
“Thank you sir knights. May I ask a question, about Matilda?”
“You may, but we may not be able to answer.” said Glen.
“Was it him? Luke, I mean. Did he kill her?”
“What makes you ask that?” questioned Hardon.
“I knew he was seeing her, without Jory’s knowing. All the women did. We didn’t know for sure, but it was believed so. I’ve known Luke since we were little, and he’s always been hot-blooded. But last night, when I caught him sneaking off, I saw something that made me uneasy. I wanted to tell him off, but something made me nervous, so I let him off. Ever since, I’ve just been thinking.”
“We can’t say anything for sure. These are serious allegations, but your testimony will be noted.” said Hardon, “Thank you for sharing.”
“Of course, sir knights.” She curtseyed, and had turned around to returned to the hut before turning back and asking, “Oh and one other thing, if I me be so bold to ask. Is it true that knights may never marry?” She asked with a coy smile.
“Unless they pardon their knighthood, then no, we are forbidden from court and marriage.” Said Hardon
“That’s a shame, that is.” She replied, and returned to the hut where Frejek lay ailing,
It’s a two week’s travel back to Nimanaeur Town. Add a couple days for the ailing brother. The knights would spend the rest of the early morning tearing down their equipment and saddling up their horses. Glen and Hardon were understandably livid with Luke’s theft and desertion of the village, while Marik was enraged. “He’s going to Slezt? We should find the little Runt and drag him to the Gaols! Make him labour for his crimes!” He exclaimed loudly. Eventually he calmed down. Glen reminded him that they are not law enforcement, and the local Lord will have to deal with that. He proceeded to aggressively pack away the equipment and saddle up the horses for a long ride back home.
