So, decided to make a new thread for the story, since the Screenshots where kinda being dried up and threw to the side. So, I shall add a catchup in the first post, and then the posts shall be added by me and Smurf. If anyone else has a cool idea and wants to join, you are welcome to IM me or Smurf ( probably) about it.
(Smurf)
(Myself)
(Smurf)
Almost a year has passed since Chaplain Townson's landing in Calradia. The Ignis Angeli have sent a promising cleric to the lands of Calradia to check on the mysterious silence of the Chaplain. In the past three months not a single letter has been sent from Calradia.
Enter Kolibyr Fenix, an extremely talented cleric that shows great promise. With the panic of demons and undead increasing across the world, Calradia would be a perfect spot for them to get a foothold. A land war-torn amongst several factions there would be plenty of corpses to start it all.
After finally landing in Sargoth Kolibyr is lucky enough to meet a like-minded friend to join him on his quest.
For the first two weeks he traveled around to towns checking taverns for people wiling to help him in his quest. He participated in tournaments to gather renown and gold for an army to help slay the undead in search of the Chaplain. When he felt comfortable with his new traveling companions and gold supplies he traveled the northern coast line recruiting Dwarves and Nords under his banner to combat the undead and bring true peace to Calradia. The kingdoms of the land were too blind to the real threat, and he would not let this continent fall into darkness. One hundred recruits of Dwarves and Nords were put through rigorous training for a week to at least get them combat ready and geared with actual weapons of war.
Despite his best attempts, the first month proved to hold little answers for the whereabouts of the Chaplain. People knew of the Chaplain, but had no idea where he had disappeared to. Like a ghost he had vanished.
Then the first warband of undead was found near the end of the month. The northern coastline held only sea raiders that were fought off during trade between the towns, and the party had to move further in-land to find the undead. This warband was group of zombies, mindless drones. Fenix hoped to capture a necromancer for interrogation on the Chaplain's location, but these undead had to be stopped before they attacked a town. Gathering his forces Fenix's group got the first taste of battling the dead.
The Rhodok lands held hundreds of the mindless drones. For every hundred zombies and skeletons the party put to rest another two hundred would take their place. Almost a week had passed since the first encounter with the undead, and as Fenix's party began resting in the tavern he overheard a group of monks. He glanced over to see a group of 20 men dressed in black robes with a basic mace and shield. As he began to walk away a name was spoken that stopped him in his tracks. He shifted quickly back towards the monks, "You know the Chaplain?" The monks were taken back, but one spoke up "Aye, He was well known throughout the lands of the Blazing Hand. Not a single person can claim to have done more to slow down the undead incursion."
After a night full of questions, Fenix finally had a direction. He would take these monks to the lands of the blazing hand where Grandmaster Tanalia resided. There he would be able to gather information on the Chaplain and his disappearance. His fortune did not end there, as the warband of 120 strong passed by Suno a group of shadows was spotted. This was important, not because they were the work of the damned, but because they were sentient. Whereas the zombies were mindless drones unable to answer questions, the shadows would know something. With Alithyra's skill in swift army movements the group caught up to the Shadows.
The shadows were a pain to say the least. Fighting them wasn't as hard as keeping them prisoner, the screeching drove the party mad at times. After 2 sleepless nights for the party Fenix was ready to execute them. As Fenix released the first two shadows with his spiritual hammer the third, a shadow wizard, began to laugh. "A group of Death Knights carry some of the knowledge you seek! You will be no match for them though. They are fearless warriors who bring death and destruction to those who stand against them. It will be your grave, but I will gladly send you to it. Huor Tinuviel Castle in the elven lands, it is the place you will surely die!" As the hammer slammed into the last shadow Fenix was at least happy to have earned something with the parties two sleepless nights. He did not fear the death knights as his party was now a formidable force, but he did fear what they carried.
The fight was harder than Fenix could have imagined. Barely over 30 knights were taking on a formidable force of 100+ units who had trained for this. He personally killed 5 during the fight while other clerics cast a miraculous flame strike taking out 13 others near the end of the battle. If it hadn't been for that coordinated flame strike it could have been the end.
After what seemed to be the end of the battle a commanding knight donned in full armor stepped up. He stood alone, fearless even in the face against 40 armed men still able to fight. Fenix stepped up, commanding those left standing to tend to the wounded. Fenix would deal with this knight of hell.
~In foreign lands...
The Earth trembles and begins to crack as horrors the likes which the world has never seen pour forth into existence. Two sets of fiery eyes began to glow with the wind becoming violent...
~
The castle doors swing open, and a heavily chained horror is forced into the dining hall. A female with tanned skin and deep black hair sits at the largest chair, seemingly unnerved by the chained shadow knight. "I expect you have a reason for bringing him here, let alone keeping it alive?" as she speaks with little interest. Fenix feels slightly taken back by her lack of concern, but continues anyway.
"I was told you had information on the Chaplain's whereabouts," she begins to show some interest but quickly regains control, "on my way here I happened to come across some shadows that informed me that the group of death knights traveling under this commander would have information. I have not been able to make him talk, but maybe you can find a use for him."
She stands from the table and walks toward the chained knight. When she is only a few feet away from the knight a hammer conjures into her hand and before anyone can react the body of the knight goes limp, slamming into the ground. Fenix looks up in anger with fire in his eyes -"You were deceived. You're obviously new to fighting their ilk, and I'd suggest you not to be so gullible in the future. Those shadows led you to death knights which probably ripped your entire group to shreds or within inches of your life. They didn't allow you to get information, they attempted to have you killed."
Fenix was unable to speak. A mix of anger, disgust, and pride rose in him. The worst part is that he knew it was true. His inexperience with actual demons, allowed him to be fooled. While he had been praised for his prowess in his faith abilities, combat, and intellect; he had been arrogant. He was intelligent enough to realize his mistakes, but stupid enough to make them once; if that happened again there might not be time for regret.
The Grandmaster continued, "Now, what is your name? You've obviously gone through a lot of trouble to be here, but introductions are not optional; they are mandatory."
Fenix sighed. It was the best he could do to control himself, and then he spoke "I am Kolibyr Fenix. I was sent here by the order Ignis Angeli, the same order that the Chaplain headed. We stopped recieving word from him a little over 4 months ago now. I was sent here by the order to investigate."
"They sent a brand new cleric with basically no experience?" she frowned. "I thought the Chaplain was worth more than that to the order."
Fenix felt the sting. It was his fault for not making the best first impression. Bringing a useless, rotting carcass as a greeting gift isn't the most thoughtful, but did she really have to play on it so heavily? "The order sent the best member for the task, and that so happened to be me." The venom in his voice was seeping through, and if she noticed it, she show showed no signs of caring. "It also doesn't help that our order is dealing with evil in our homeland. They haven't pulled forth demons there, but that is because we so vigorously keep them from doing so."
She switched topics, "The Chaplain was a great person, and a beloved friend..." Fenix was surprised; he had heard of the Chaplain being a good person, but she said it with a tone in her voice... "- but I fear we too have no idea what happened. The last time we saw him he was headed out with a force of 300 commanded by him alone." The tone, it was there again. It sounded like admiration, but it was formal-like, respectful even.
His curiosity got the best of him. He worded his sentences carefully: "It's a shame, we needed him back home."
The grandmaster showed interest, "Oh?... You needed him to go back?"
Fenix's head spun. His intellect and experience told him what this meant, but he couldn't see it. "Well, I was to find him, and then address our situation then. To truly determine where our resources would be better spent." He said quickly trying to cover up his past "statement".
Her face became stern with narrowed eyes. "I see. Well, if we happen to find any information on him we'll be sure to contact you, and you should do the same if you find any actual information." She motioned for the guards to escort Fenix out as he grit his teeth. He had been caught digging, and she did not appreciate it in the slightest.
While in the tavern he was thankful for the days of relaxation with little combat. His troops deserved it after those knights, but he couldn't stop the damage to his pride during the castle visit. There were so many things he needed to do, but he lacked tools to do them. His main goal was ages away. He didn't even have a direction as to where to look or what to look for. His warband had taken a toll after the battle with the knights, and the rate of undead sightings was increasingly on almost a daily basis. He rolled over. Tomorrow, he would start dealin with all the things he could do.
In the morning he went to the arena master looking for nearby tournaments. He needed to get some extra gold, and while doing so he could pass through villages recruiting Monks, Nords, and Dwarves.
- Dhirim was nice at this time of the year, and it was always prosperous. Being a central city in the continent made it the perfect trade point. The tournament prize would be massive, but the competition would be tough. And tough it was, Count Grainwad was in the final round against Fenix. Fenix had never seen a man so old in his years still move like lightning. At 58 years this count was pushing Fenix to the very limit. Every swing was blocked or parried; after only 5 minutes Fenix was feeling the fatigue. Grainwad showed nothing of the sort, moving as a soldier. Feet planted, always flat, moving forward in a way that showed his experience. You would only notice an opening after it had closed; then suddenly a swing struck hard ripping the shield's handles off. The shield fell to the floor with the handles broken from the force of the previous swing. Grainwad had been slowly pushing him back into a wall, and Fenix had fallen for the trap. With his back to the wall and a fierce Grainwad within sword distance - the options were declining rapidly. He had to be unpredictable. Fenix pushed off the wall and into Grainwad, barely parrying the Count's swing in time. He forced his own body against Grainwad's shield, but Grainwad knew better. The count got his footing and was about to push back with his weight. Grainwad ducked under the shield so as to keep his head from getting hit and then slammed forward, but he hit nothing. He left out a laugh that was quickly interrupted by a blunt blow to the back. The tournament was over, and Fenix had won. Soon after a letter from Grainwad personally invited him to the feast and hinted at a special request for the young man.
"There you are!" a voice rang from the left side of the hall as Kolibyr walked in. "Come here Champion, I'd like you to meet some loyal men of this court!" After a few hours at the feast things were dying down as people began to leave for the night, but Grainwad pulled Kolibyr to the side. "You lad are a hell of a fighter, and I just so happen to be looking for someone to escort my daughter to Praven. Your renown precedes you, and I'm assuming that you still have that company of soldiers under your command, correct?"
"That is correct, but I..."
"Fantastic Fenix! So, when will you be able to make it to Praven?" Grainwad interrupted.
The last thing Fenix wanted to do was become an escort for the ladies of Lords. He had a much bigger mission to attend to, but maybe... Grainwad had a lot of connections in his kingdom, and was well-respected by the court here. The Count could be useful if the Chaplain is found to be somewhere in territory where only an army could march on it. He sighed "I'll be leaving in the morning, make sure she is ready to set out before dawn."
"Excellent lad! We have family in Praven so once you get to the castle you're all good. Your payment will be given to you at the castle, and lad, you better have her there within two weeks.," and with a wink, he was off.
Story Stuff:
Enter Kolibyr Fenix, an extremely talented cleric that shows great promise. With the panic of demons and undead increasing across the world, Calradia would be a perfect spot for them to get a foothold. A land war-torn amongst several factions there would be plenty of corpses to start it all.
After finally landing in Sargoth Kolibyr is lucky enough to meet a like-minded friend to join him on his quest.
For the first two weeks he traveled around to towns checking taverns for people wiling to help him in his quest. He participated in tournaments to gather renown and gold for an army to help slay the undead in search of the Chaplain. When he felt comfortable with his new traveling companions and gold supplies he traveled the northern coast line recruiting Dwarves and Nords under his banner to combat the undead and bring true peace to Calradia. The kingdoms of the land were too blind to the real threat, and he would not let this continent fall into darkness. One hundred recruits of Dwarves and Nords were put through rigorous training for a week to at least get them combat ready and geared with actual weapons of war.
Despite his best attempts, the first month proved to hold little answers for the whereabouts of the Chaplain. People knew of the Chaplain, but had no idea where he had disappeared to. Like a ghost he had vanished.
Then the first warband of undead was found near the end of the month. The northern coastline held only sea raiders that were fought off during trade between the towns, and the party had to move further in-land to find the undead. This warband was group of zombies, mindless drones. Fenix hoped to capture a necromancer for interrogation on the Chaplain's location, but these undead had to be stopped before they attacked a town. Gathering his forces Fenix's group got the first taste of battling the dead.
The Rhodok lands held hundreds of the mindless drones. For every hundred zombies and skeletons the party put to rest another two hundred would take their place. Almost a week had passed since the first encounter with the undead, and as Fenix's party began resting in the tavern he overheard a group of monks. He glanced over to see a group of 20 men dressed in black robes with a basic mace and shield. As he began to walk away a name was spoken that stopped him in his tracks. He shifted quickly back towards the monks, "You know the Chaplain?" The monks were taken back, but one spoke up "Aye, He was well known throughout the lands of the Blazing Hand. Not a single person can claim to have done more to slow down the undead incursion."
After a night full of questions, Fenix finally had a direction. He would take these monks to the lands of the blazing hand where Grandmaster Tanalia resided. There he would be able to gather information on the Chaplain and his disappearance. His fortune did not end there, as the warband of 120 strong passed by Suno a group of shadows was spotted. This was important, not because they were the work of the damned, but because they were sentient. Whereas the zombies were mindless drones unable to answer questions, the shadows would know something. With Alithyra's skill in swift army movements the group caught up to the Shadows.
The shadows were a pain to say the least. Fighting them wasn't as hard as keeping them prisoner, the screeching drove the party mad at times. After 2 sleepless nights for the party Fenix was ready to execute them. As Fenix released the first two shadows with his spiritual hammer the third, a shadow wizard, began to laugh. "A group of Death Knights carry some of the knowledge you seek! You will be no match for them though. They are fearless warriors who bring death and destruction to those who stand against them. It will be your grave, but I will gladly send you to it. Huor Tinuviel Castle in the elven lands, it is the place you will surely die!" As the hammer slammed into the last shadow Fenix was at least happy to have earned something with the parties two sleepless nights. He did not fear the death knights as his party was now a formidable force, but he did fear what they carried.
The fight was harder than Fenix could have imagined. Barely over 30 knights were taking on a formidable force of 100+ units who had trained for this. He personally killed 5 during the fight while other clerics cast a miraculous flame strike taking out 13 others near the end of the battle. If it hadn't been for that coordinated flame strike it could have been the end.
After what seemed to be the end of the battle a commanding knight donned in full armor stepped up. He stood alone, fearless even in the face against 40 armed men still able to fight. Fenix stepped up, commanding those left standing to tend to the wounded. Fenix would deal with this knight of hell.
~In foreign lands...
The Earth trembles and begins to crack as horrors the likes which the world has never seen pour forth into existence. Two sets of fiery eyes began to glow with the wind becoming violent...
~
The castle doors swing open, and a heavily chained horror is forced into the dining hall. A female with tanned skin and deep black hair sits at the largest chair, seemingly unnerved by the chained shadow knight. "I expect you have a reason for bringing him here, let alone keeping it alive?" as she speaks with little interest. Fenix feels slightly taken back by her lack of concern, but continues anyway.
"I was told you had information on the Chaplain's whereabouts," she begins to show some interest but quickly regains control, "on my way here I happened to come across some shadows that informed me that the group of death knights traveling under this commander would have information. I have not been able to make him talk, but maybe you can find a use for him."
She stands from the table and walks toward the chained knight. When she is only a few feet away from the knight a hammer conjures into her hand and before anyone can react the body of the knight goes limp, slamming into the ground. Fenix looks up in anger with fire in his eyes -"You were deceived. You're obviously new to fighting their ilk, and I'd suggest you not to be so gullible in the future. Those shadows led you to death knights which probably ripped your entire group to shreds or within inches of your life. They didn't allow you to get information, they attempted to have you killed."
Fenix was unable to speak. A mix of anger, disgust, and pride rose in him. The worst part is that he knew it was true. His inexperience with actual demons, allowed him to be fooled. While he had been praised for his prowess in his faith abilities, combat, and intellect; he had been arrogant. He was intelligent enough to realize his mistakes, but stupid enough to make them once; if that happened again there might not be time for regret.
The Grandmaster continued, "Now, what is your name? You've obviously gone through a lot of trouble to be here, but introductions are not optional; they are mandatory."
Fenix sighed. It was the best he could do to control himself, and then he spoke "I am Kolibyr Fenix. I was sent here by the order Ignis Angeli, the same order that the Chaplain headed. We stopped recieving word from him a little over 4 months ago now. I was sent here by the order to investigate."
"They sent a brand new cleric with basically no experience?" she frowned. "I thought the Chaplain was worth more than that to the order."
Fenix felt the sting. It was his fault for not making the best first impression. Bringing a useless, rotting carcass as a greeting gift isn't the most thoughtful, but did she really have to play on it so heavily? "The order sent the best member for the task, and that so happened to be me." The venom in his voice was seeping through, and if she noticed it, she show showed no signs of caring. "It also doesn't help that our order is dealing with evil in our homeland. They haven't pulled forth demons there, but that is because we so vigorously keep them from doing so."
She switched topics, "The Chaplain was a great person, and a beloved friend..." Fenix was surprised; he had heard of the Chaplain being a good person, but she said it with a tone in her voice... "- but I fear we too have no idea what happened. The last time we saw him he was headed out with a force of 300 commanded by him alone." The tone, it was there again. It sounded like admiration, but it was formal-like, respectful even.
His curiosity got the best of him. He worded his sentences carefully: "It's a shame, we needed him back home."
The grandmaster showed interest, "Oh?... You needed him to go back?"
Fenix's head spun. His intellect and experience told him what this meant, but he couldn't see it. "Well, I was to find him, and then address our situation then. To truly determine where our resources would be better spent." He said quickly trying to cover up his past "statement".
Her face became stern with narrowed eyes. "I see. Well, if we happen to find any information on him we'll be sure to contact you, and you should do the same if you find any actual information." She motioned for the guards to escort Fenix out as he grit his teeth. He had been caught digging, and she did not appreciate it in the slightest.
While in the tavern he was thankful for the days of relaxation with little combat. His troops deserved it after those knights, but he couldn't stop the damage to his pride during the castle visit. There were so many things he needed to do, but he lacked tools to do them. His main goal was ages away. He didn't even have a direction as to where to look or what to look for. His warband had taken a toll after the battle with the knights, and the rate of undead sightings was increasingly on almost a daily basis. He rolled over. Tomorrow, he would start dealin with all the things he could do.
In the morning he went to the arena master looking for nearby tournaments. He needed to get some extra gold, and while doing so he could pass through villages recruiting Monks, Nords, and Dwarves.
- Dhirim was nice at this time of the year, and it was always prosperous. Being a central city in the continent made it the perfect trade point. The tournament prize would be massive, but the competition would be tough. And tough it was, Count Grainwad was in the final round against Fenix. Fenix had never seen a man so old in his years still move like lightning. At 58 years this count was pushing Fenix to the very limit. Every swing was blocked or parried; after only 5 minutes Fenix was feeling the fatigue. Grainwad showed nothing of the sort, moving as a soldier. Feet planted, always flat, moving forward in a way that showed his experience. You would only notice an opening after it had closed; then suddenly a swing struck hard ripping the shield's handles off. The shield fell to the floor with the handles broken from the force of the previous swing. Grainwad had been slowly pushing him back into a wall, and Fenix had fallen for the trap. With his back to the wall and a fierce Grainwad within sword distance - the options were declining rapidly. He had to be unpredictable. Fenix pushed off the wall and into Grainwad, barely parrying the Count's swing in time. He forced his own body against Grainwad's shield, but Grainwad knew better. The count got his footing and was about to push back with his weight. Grainwad ducked under the shield so as to keep his head from getting hit and then slammed forward, but he hit nothing. He left out a laugh that was quickly interrupted by a blunt blow to the back. The tournament was over, and Fenix had won. Soon after a letter from Grainwad personally invited him to the feast and hinted at a special request for the young man.
"There you are!" a voice rang from the left side of the hall as Kolibyr walked in. "Come here Champion, I'd like you to meet some loyal men of this court!" After a few hours at the feast things were dying down as people began to leave for the night, but Grainwad pulled Kolibyr to the side. "You lad are a hell of a fighter, and I just so happen to be looking for someone to escort my daughter to Praven. Your renown precedes you, and I'm assuming that you still have that company of soldiers under your command, correct?"
"That is correct, but I..."
"Fantastic Fenix! So, when will you be able to make it to Praven?" Grainwad interrupted.
The last thing Fenix wanted to do was become an escort for the ladies of Lords. He had a much bigger mission to attend to, but maybe... Grainwad had a lot of connections in his kingdom, and was well-respected by the court here. The Count could be useful if the Chaplain is found to be somewhere in territory where only an army could march on it. He sighed "I'll be leaving in the morning, make sure she is ready to set out before dawn."
"Excellent lad! We have family in Praven so once you get to the castle you're all good. Your payment will be given to you at the castle, and lad, you better have her there within two weeks.," and with a wink, he was off.
Story Stuff:
Lady Sonadel was the daughter of Count Grainwad, and it seemed that being a lady of such a prominent house had no effect on her. She never acted with restraint, constantly making jests with other soldiers, then beating them in a race to the next hill on horseback. The first soldier jokingly accepted to entertain the lady, but it became apparant within the first ten seconds that she was truly a rider. After the first race soldiers began taking turns at her challenge to pass time. From the reformed caravan guards to even the five mighty Knights of the King, her personal bodyguards, they were all unable to keep up with her Courser.
For a week the party took their time and enjoyed the sites during the day, and filled them with boisterous laughter. If anything, the party deserved a week away from fighting undead smelling of death and decay. The nights were filled with song and stories of previous encounters. Sonadel and her personal guards were truly the center of attention. Sonadel was charismatic getting along with everyone; while her guard were sharing stories around a blazing fire. Kolibyr listened intently to the stories of the knights, and he was impressed by Sonadel's abilities. Very few nobles had the ability to connect with soldiers and commoners at such a level.
As the night began to wind down Kolibyr took to his tent. With only two days left until the group reached Praven he needed to plan extra routes to take in case of undead hordes. The last week had given him time to think over his situation with the Chaplain, the undead, and Grandmaster Tanalia; He was slowly beginning to realize...
"Excuse me, Fenix?" Kolibyr turned his head to see Sonadel standing with dim light covering her face.
"Yes Lady Sonadel, what is it?"
"I've been conversing with your soldiers the past few days, and it seems that you mainly fight undead, correct?"
"That is correct, did my party tell you this?"
She smirks, "No, but all of the major courts refer to you as a crazed member from a foriegn order - here to kill undead of course."
Kolibyr laughs "So why do you mention conversing with my men the past few days?"
"Well after conversing with them and traveling with you for almost a week... I feel certain that you're not that crazy." Her smirk turns into an inquisitive look. "Which makes me curious as to why you are here. I mean, fighting undead is a wonderful cause and all, but would you really uproot yourself from home simply to fight rotting corpses on foreign soil?"
"Well Ma'lady -"
Sonadel's smile returns: "Please call me Sonadel, I prefer my name over a title. A name brings more meaning to a person than a title ever could."
"Well, Sonadel, the order that I am a part of sent me here. I am on an expedition to find one of our Chaplains that was sent here to repel the undead. I make no secret of my cause here, but sadly there has been only a handful of people able to help me. Almost everyone knows of the Chaplain, and yet very few of them have any idea where he or his large army went. Let alone why they disappeared."
"Calradia knows of him, but like you he was mainly a topic of talk within the major courts. The Chaplain constantly clashed with the Kings, Queens, and Vassals, of the realm trying to change their focus. Deep down his cause was just: a small ceasefire between the factions of the realm until the undead were completely cleansed from the land. Sadly, all nobles know that a ceasefire in which you share logistical information with an enemy... It simply invites others to take you over. The only way I can see to feasibly fight against them without the claimants at each other's throats - Well you'd have to re-unite the Calradic Empire. With the way things are going now, you may as well rule that option out."
"So where should I look for support? Every day there are more undead packs scouring the land. Everytime my war party attacks a horde of shadows or fiends it seems like they have twenty to thirty prisoners on the brink of death. The Order of the Blazing Hand is willing to help me, but they are also dealing with a recent declaration of war from the Vaegirs because of petty land disputes. The Dwarven and Nord recruits that I do get are farmers, barely of age, that were leftover after the lords take able-bodied men to war with the other claimants."
"As much as I want to answer your questions; I have no answers to give. In terms of support you may need to include the Swadian populace. If nothing else, having a group of that consists of several non-warring factions fighting off undead could start a revelation. While I am sworn to the throne of Swadia and the rightful King Harlaus; I know that the undead need to be stopped. Most nobles know this, but Calradia is a torn land."
Kolibyr takes a seat sifting through the conversation. Sonadel takes a seat nearby then begins to speak.
"I will do what I can to find out more about the Chaplain for you, but there is still one question before taking my leave."
"As you wish, what is it?"
"Why would a Cleric that needed a large following, an army even, to defeat an undead menace be escorting a lady to another town?"
Kolibyr closed his eyes. She came in with one question, and over the course of the conversation figured out exactly his thought process, his motives. He was exposed, and the worst part is that she worded it all to let him know. To let him know that she now knew why he was here. Escorting a prominent lady from factions he could care less about. He was using them as an asset.
Sonadel gave a brief smile and stood up before Kolibyr could regain his ability to speak.
"Thank you for answering my questions Sir Fenix. I hope to see you at some of the other feasts - That is of course, if you're not too busy fighting off the undead with my father's army."
Kolibyr sat in silence for several minutes. His head was swimming, and after an exasperated sigh he moved over to the ground for some rest.
The next morning the air was oddly cold, and sunlight barely pierced through dense clouds. It seemed like the last two days were eerie, and it was unsettling throughout the whole company. Not even Sonadel seemed in the mood to joke, let alone race others. Praven slowly came into view as they reached the summit of a nearby hill. Sonadel picked up her pace to match Kolibyr and without making eye contact began to speak.
"So I realized that the past few days has been... quiet to say the least. Undead activity in this region seems to have either slowed down, or your companion Alithyra is the best path-finder in all of Calradia."
"The bands of undead in this area do not have the strength to take on a warband numbering around 115. Though I have to agree; it does some odd that we were unable to even catch a glimpse of any undead, shadows, or even demons."
"Demons? The courts are full of rumors, surely that must be one of them. Yes, there is talk of them, but it's only talk...right?"
Kolibyr inhales deeply, "So far I've only seen knights of hell riding against me. There are rumors of different types of hellspawn, and there is even talk of two large winged demons. We are unsure about the validity of these claims, but it's best to realize that demonic knights signify a target for more, invasive, legions."
Sonadel rides in silence, keeping her face locked on Praven ahead. Suddenly her eyes flash then her face becomes stern.
"Do you think the Chaplain was captured by these hell knights?"
"From the stories I've heard about the Chaplain, no. Multiple people have fought alongside him, and those who have been with him through the toughest fights claim the Chaplain has taken on fearsome demons alone. I would be hesitate to ever assume a human could take on such creatures alone, but the order believes he is not just human."
"Not human? What is he then, a half breed?"
"No, I mean some assume he has divinity in his blood. His abilities as a cleric are some of the strongest in the order, and physically he has been known to be much stronger than his appearance lets on."
Sonadel laughs, "That is the craziest thing I have heard in years. There hasn't been a person born of divine blood in centuries. The only time a person is born with such blood is because they have a special purpose. Normally the legends say it was to combat an infathomable evil, but those are just stories told to children."
Kolibyr's eyes strayed to the sky, "I hope you're right. For the sake of Calradia, I hope you are right."
Sonadel gave him a look of almost disbelief. Could he really believe that the legends were true? The large gates of Praven opened while Sonadel's personal guard began to surround her. Before becoming completely cut off and escorted to the castle she turned to Kolibyr.
"I will work to find out any information on the Chaplain. If anything appears I will have a letter sent to you with my special seal. The seal depicts a lion walking to the right with head turned to face the reader, watch for it."
Kolibyr was unable to respond before Sonadel and the knights disappeared into the busy streets of Praven. He was now unsure about where the relation stood now. Was she going to truly help him, or was she still mad at about being seen as only an asset? There was even the chance that she understood his perspective, but she was cryptic in her alliances. Whether it was from a life as a noble, or just because she was toying with him; he was unsure. His pride, confidence, and decisiveness, seemed to change while in the lands of Calradia. The lives of one hundred plus soldiers, and the thrashing Tanalia gave him changed him. In battle he felt his confidence and decisiveness returned, he felt at home on the battlefield.
It was time to leave for the tavern. Kolibyr's men needed the rest, and he could deal with the lords in the morning. The tavern was filled with groups chatting about the recent happenings in Calradia, and Kolibyr was too smart to miss out on the latest news. Two groups caught his eye, one had a wide-eyed man seemingly yelling at a group of patrons nearby, and a batch of four wizards were talking at a table nearby. Casually he took a sit near the middle of the two and attempted to focus on the voice of the wide-eyed man.
"...our archers and mages just kept throwing everything they had at the three MONSTERS! The things just kept cleaving through the infantry, and I saw one with a sword cleave a horse in half in one swing; the sword was as tall as, no, taller than me!"
Another man at the table piped up slurring his words "Ya' mercenaries comin' into the tavurns and acting like you've seent it all. It's bull**** all of it." He takes a large swig of his drink before continuing. "You expect us to believe three giants clad in steel weighing hundreds of pounds with weapons the size of us killed your group?" *hic* "Sounds to me like you needed a cover story after running away from your mercenary cap'n. What, he train you too hard, push you too far?"
The man's wide eyes narrow and fill with anger "I just witnessed my entire company cut down in front of my eyes by damned monsters, and you expect me to take insults from some tavern drunk!" Silence falls in the tavern as all eyes turn towards the group. The angry mercenary seems flushed with anger, and proceeds to storm out of the establishment before Kolibyr can catch up. Three unkillable giants, are they demons? He wonders if these "unkillable monsters" are even real. If they are they could prove to be a tipping point if made allies of, but that is assuming these, immortals, are not demons.
The chorus of the tavern's laughter and banter resumes. Kolibyr leans back and focuses on the table of mages, attempting to be discreet.
"...yea, and then right after tossing a fireball directly into the center of them... They started rising as undead. Hannah claims she's not really sure where she got her necromatic powers from, but she does it without even lifting a finger."
One of the other mages begins talking in a hushed tone "So this wizard, Hannah, is strong enough in magical powers to accidentally raise undead?"
The first mage responds "Yea, the shadows kept saying something to her, but I wasn't close enough to hear anything about it."
Kolibyr cut out the rest of the conversation, he was focused on this person named Hannah. A person able to summon undead without even trying? That was powerful and very dangerous. He would keep an eye out for this person, because a person of such power fighting for a similar cause could be useful. At the very least he would keep tabs to make sure it didn't develop further against his cause.
For a week the party took their time and enjoyed the sites during the day, and filled them with boisterous laughter. If anything, the party deserved a week away from fighting undead smelling of death and decay. The nights were filled with song and stories of previous encounters. Sonadel and her personal guards were truly the center of attention. Sonadel was charismatic getting along with everyone; while her guard were sharing stories around a blazing fire. Kolibyr listened intently to the stories of the knights, and he was impressed by Sonadel's abilities. Very few nobles had the ability to connect with soldiers and commoners at such a level.
As the night began to wind down Kolibyr took to his tent. With only two days left until the group reached Praven he needed to plan extra routes to take in case of undead hordes. The last week had given him time to think over his situation with the Chaplain, the undead, and Grandmaster Tanalia; He was slowly beginning to realize...
"Excuse me, Fenix?" Kolibyr turned his head to see Sonadel standing with dim light covering her face.
"Yes Lady Sonadel, what is it?"
"I've been conversing with your soldiers the past few days, and it seems that you mainly fight undead, correct?"
"That is correct, did my party tell you this?"
She smirks, "No, but all of the major courts refer to you as a crazed member from a foriegn order - here to kill undead of course."
Kolibyr laughs "So why do you mention conversing with my men the past few days?"
"Well after conversing with them and traveling with you for almost a week... I feel certain that you're not that crazy." Her smirk turns into an inquisitive look. "Which makes me curious as to why you are here. I mean, fighting undead is a wonderful cause and all, but would you really uproot yourself from home simply to fight rotting corpses on foreign soil?"
"Well Ma'lady -"
Sonadel's smile returns: "Please call me Sonadel, I prefer my name over a title. A name brings more meaning to a person than a title ever could."
"Well, Sonadel, the order that I am a part of sent me here. I am on an expedition to find one of our Chaplains that was sent here to repel the undead. I make no secret of my cause here, but sadly there has been only a handful of people able to help me. Almost everyone knows of the Chaplain, and yet very few of them have any idea where he or his large army went. Let alone why they disappeared."
"Calradia knows of him, but like you he was mainly a topic of talk within the major courts. The Chaplain constantly clashed with the Kings, Queens, and Vassals, of the realm trying to change their focus. Deep down his cause was just: a small ceasefire between the factions of the realm until the undead were completely cleansed from the land. Sadly, all nobles know that a ceasefire in which you share logistical information with an enemy... It simply invites others to take you over. The only way I can see to feasibly fight against them without the claimants at each other's throats - Well you'd have to re-unite the Calradic Empire. With the way things are going now, you may as well rule that option out."
"So where should I look for support? Every day there are more undead packs scouring the land. Everytime my war party attacks a horde of shadows or fiends it seems like they have twenty to thirty prisoners on the brink of death. The Order of the Blazing Hand is willing to help me, but they are also dealing with a recent declaration of war from the Vaegirs because of petty land disputes. The Dwarven and Nord recruits that I do get are farmers, barely of age, that were leftover after the lords take able-bodied men to war with the other claimants."
"As much as I want to answer your questions; I have no answers to give. In terms of support you may need to include the Swadian populace. If nothing else, having a group of that consists of several non-warring factions fighting off undead could start a revelation. While I am sworn to the throne of Swadia and the rightful King Harlaus; I know that the undead need to be stopped. Most nobles know this, but Calradia is a torn land."
Kolibyr takes a seat sifting through the conversation. Sonadel takes a seat nearby then begins to speak.
"I will do what I can to find out more about the Chaplain for you, but there is still one question before taking my leave."
"As you wish, what is it?"
"Why would a Cleric that needed a large following, an army even, to defeat an undead menace be escorting a lady to another town?"
Kolibyr closed his eyes. She came in with one question, and over the course of the conversation figured out exactly his thought process, his motives. He was exposed, and the worst part is that she worded it all to let him know. To let him know that she now knew why he was here. Escorting a prominent lady from factions he could care less about. He was using them as an asset.
Sonadel gave a brief smile and stood up before Kolibyr could regain his ability to speak.
"Thank you for answering my questions Sir Fenix. I hope to see you at some of the other feasts - That is of course, if you're not too busy fighting off the undead with my father's army."
Kolibyr sat in silence for several minutes. His head was swimming, and after an exasperated sigh he moved over to the ground for some rest.
The next morning the air was oddly cold, and sunlight barely pierced through dense clouds. It seemed like the last two days were eerie, and it was unsettling throughout the whole company. Not even Sonadel seemed in the mood to joke, let alone race others. Praven slowly came into view as they reached the summit of a nearby hill. Sonadel picked up her pace to match Kolibyr and without making eye contact began to speak.
"So I realized that the past few days has been... quiet to say the least. Undead activity in this region seems to have either slowed down, or your companion Alithyra is the best path-finder in all of Calradia."
"The bands of undead in this area do not have the strength to take on a warband numbering around 115. Though I have to agree; it does some odd that we were unable to even catch a glimpse of any undead, shadows, or even demons."
"Demons? The courts are full of rumors, surely that must be one of them. Yes, there is talk of them, but it's only talk...right?"
Kolibyr inhales deeply, "So far I've only seen knights of hell riding against me. There are rumors of different types of hellspawn, and there is even talk of two large winged demons. We are unsure about the validity of these claims, but it's best to realize that demonic knights signify a target for more, invasive, legions."
Sonadel rides in silence, keeping her face locked on Praven ahead. Suddenly her eyes flash then her face becomes stern.
"Do you think the Chaplain was captured by these hell knights?"
"From the stories I've heard about the Chaplain, no. Multiple people have fought alongside him, and those who have been with him through the toughest fights claim the Chaplain has taken on fearsome demons alone. I would be hesitate to ever assume a human could take on such creatures alone, but the order believes he is not just human."
"Not human? What is he then, a half breed?"
"No, I mean some assume he has divinity in his blood. His abilities as a cleric are some of the strongest in the order, and physically he has been known to be much stronger than his appearance lets on."
Sonadel laughs, "That is the craziest thing I have heard in years. There hasn't been a person born of divine blood in centuries. The only time a person is born with such blood is because they have a special purpose. Normally the legends say it was to combat an infathomable evil, but those are just stories told to children."
Kolibyr's eyes strayed to the sky, "I hope you're right. For the sake of Calradia, I hope you are right."
Sonadel gave him a look of almost disbelief. Could he really believe that the legends were true? The large gates of Praven opened while Sonadel's personal guard began to surround her. Before becoming completely cut off and escorted to the castle she turned to Kolibyr.
"I will work to find out any information on the Chaplain. If anything appears I will have a letter sent to you with my special seal. The seal depicts a lion walking to the right with head turned to face the reader, watch for it."
Kolibyr was unable to respond before Sonadel and the knights disappeared into the busy streets of Praven. He was now unsure about where the relation stood now. Was she going to truly help him, or was she still mad at about being seen as only an asset? There was even the chance that she understood his perspective, but she was cryptic in her alliances. Whether it was from a life as a noble, or just because she was toying with him; he was unsure. His pride, confidence, and decisiveness, seemed to change while in the lands of Calradia. The lives of one hundred plus soldiers, and the thrashing Tanalia gave him changed him. In battle he felt his confidence and decisiveness returned, he felt at home on the battlefield.
It was time to leave for the tavern. Kolibyr's men needed the rest, and he could deal with the lords in the morning. The tavern was filled with groups chatting about the recent happenings in Calradia, and Kolibyr was too smart to miss out on the latest news. Two groups caught his eye, one had a wide-eyed man seemingly yelling at a group of patrons nearby, and a batch of four wizards were talking at a table nearby. Casually he took a sit near the middle of the two and attempted to focus on the voice of the wide-eyed man.
"...our archers and mages just kept throwing everything they had at the three MONSTERS! The things just kept cleaving through the infantry, and I saw one with a sword cleave a horse in half in one swing; the sword was as tall as, no, taller than me!"
Another man at the table piped up slurring his words "Ya' mercenaries comin' into the tavurns and acting like you've seent it all. It's bull**** all of it." He takes a large swig of his drink before continuing. "You expect us to believe three giants clad in steel weighing hundreds of pounds with weapons the size of us killed your group?" *hic* "Sounds to me like you needed a cover story after running away from your mercenary cap'n. What, he train you too hard, push you too far?"
The man's wide eyes narrow and fill with anger "I just witnessed my entire company cut down in front of my eyes by damned monsters, and you expect me to take insults from some tavern drunk!" Silence falls in the tavern as all eyes turn towards the group. The angry mercenary seems flushed with anger, and proceeds to storm out of the establishment before Kolibyr can catch up. Three unkillable giants, are they demons? He wonders if these "unkillable monsters" are even real. If they are they could prove to be a tipping point if made allies of, but that is assuming these, immortals, are not demons.
The chorus of the tavern's laughter and banter resumes. Kolibyr leans back and focuses on the table of mages, attempting to be discreet.
"...yea, and then right after tossing a fireball directly into the center of them... They started rising as undead. Hannah claims she's not really sure where she got her necromatic powers from, but she does it without even lifting a finger."
One of the other mages begins talking in a hushed tone "So this wizard, Hannah, is strong enough in magical powers to accidentally raise undead?"
The first mage responds "Yea, the shadows kept saying something to her, but I wasn't close enough to hear anything about it."
Kolibyr cut out the rest of the conversation, he was focused on this person named Hannah. A person able to summon undead without even trying? That was powerful and very dangerous. He would keep an eye out for this person, because a person of such power fighting for a similar cause could be useful. At the very least he would keep tabs to make sure it didn't develop further against his cause.
(Myself)
Hannah Kabal, Vassal of the Archmage of the Ridas Magocracy wielded the Staff of the Archmage to go along with her enchanted robes. However, the more technical name was 'a staff of an archmage' since the name was more about it's potent ability to channel magic rather than any symbol of office, much like her robes. She had, amongst other spells, recently learnt the White Bolt magic, and was eager to test it out on some undead. She found several such marauding collections of the shambling bodies, and the White Bolt allowed her to rip them to shreds in mere moments, filling her with a sense of pride. It was good to destroy undead, even more-so to destroy them with ease. After a couple of zombies and skeletons, Hannah took the spell to it's true test, the Shadows.
( http://i58.tinypic.com/x43x9g.png )
The Shadows where stronger than most, but White Bolt hit them hard, until a stray Lightning Bolt from one of the Shadow Mages got lucky and took Hannah down for the count. It was at this point she realized that dispite her magical prowess when it came to offensive casting, she had very little ability in way of defending against a magical attack. However, her troops continuted to fight the Shadows, and eventually destroyed them.
http://i58.tinypic.com/2hfhnie.png
One Shadow, while dying - or whatever it was they did - claimed that 'The Shadow Knights will consume the World, and The Chaplain can not stop them'. It only occured to Firentis after he had crushed the shadow with his maul that The Chaplain was an odd thing to come from a Shadow's mouth. Chaplains where high-ranking clerics, but there where a considerable number of them so singling out one was strange. When Hannah had been roused from her painful sleep, Firentis brought this to her attention.
"It is strange that they would single out a Chaplain, very strange" She muttered, but before she could give it any more thought, word came in that the prison-train following the Shadow's contained - among the usual refugees - five heavy Swandain Knights of the King. They where heavily armoured, and highly skilled, which made Hannah interested in recruiting them, a task that was made easy by the Knights belief that the King had abandoned them to the Shadows.
The next morning, after rest, word came that a Master of the Ridas had gone mental, and was terroizing the countryside with his Golems. Hannah put aside the mystery, and rushed home to deal with the threat, it being one of her own that had cracked.
http://i61.tinypic.com/atvz0j.png
The Knights of the King where brilliant at taking the fire from the Golems, keeping them at a sufficent distance from the mages, and allowing the combined fire of Hannah's Mages to bring them down with relitive ease, or though only one knight remained concious after the blows the golems gave them. After laying the crazed man to rest, Hannah returned to the Wizard's Tower to rest and recover, the Knights that where knocked unconcious came round without any ill-effects, and just in time, as Hannah heard a group of powerful Shadow Knights. She wondered if they where the same Shadow Knights as the ones that where mentioned in the fight earlier, and so moved her warband in to engage with the knights. The leader saw them approch and rasped angrily.
"If you kill a thousand, ten thousand of us, we shall not relent the Chaplain to you!" Which of course, caused confusion in Hannah.
"Dude, I don't know who the Chaplain is, I'm just here to kill you all" she replied, and with such a poetic statement, battle was joined.
http://i59.tinypic.com/kcxqpi.png
Again, the Knights of the King performed with steller results, and Hannah's White Bolt healed their wounds while devistating the Shadow Knight's ranks. However, Hannah caught the wrong end of one of the Shadow Knight's fireballs, leaving her weak, and just as she readied a White Bolt to heal herself, one of the few remaining mounted Knights caught her in the back with a Lance. The enchanted cloth held, but the force of it projected her to the floor, rendering her unconcious again, and very annoyed.
http://i61.tinypic.com/auul5.jpg
The group of Bodyguards and Mages dispatched the rest of the Knights, and then set about tending to the wounded, including Hannah. However, when she woke, she wasn't as angry as most would have expected, instead she was curious, curious about this 'Chaplain' and why the Shadows where obsessed with him. So, when fully recovered, Hannah started asking questions where-ever she could, villages and towns, castles and lords, for any scrap of what The Chaplain meant.
-several days later-
The Mage charged at Hannah with hood-covered face and staff ready to swing. Around him, his friends fell to the crossbows of her men, or the magic of her mages. A few had made it to the Line, and where engaging the infantry and few Golems she had in her army. A fireball was flung from one of the more experienced mages and smashed into a Clay Golem, blowing it apart. Hannah could swear the man was laughing but he was to far away to be sure.
And then, the grey-clad man charging at her suddenly sprouted a bolt in his head and collapsed, but the few greens in the background where still active. So, charging her magic to the palm of her hand, Hannah fired off a Missile Storm in the mages direction. She hit some and they fell from the pain, but others managed to remain out of the way, but they where picked off by her allies, and so she sighed.
More deserters from the Ridas Mageocracy. She could understand the novices, and maybe the apprentices but she had no idea why the Adapts would desert. They where on the path the power, and then threw it away to meet the end of a bolt. But, she had bigger problems, as she looked out onto the field of mages.
The Dead rose. The Dead always rose. Old and young, Charred and crushed, Devout(as well as the bandit-priests could be called such) and heretics. Whenever Hannah fought, the Dead rose. She hated the fact that it happened every time, but her men had gotten used to it after the first couple of times, and they did not do anything once they got up, which was good.
"Never seen the like. Most Necromancers are-" Her gnomish friend started, before Hannah rounded on him with a venomous expression.
"I am not a necromancer!" she shouted, looking out into the field of dead, the acrid stench of burning flesh still hung thickly. One of the problems with having a large group of Fireball tossing mages. "Anjolis, gather the priests of Mordin and set the awoken's souls to rest" She ordered. That was her name for the undead that woke on her watch. She didn't like calling them undead. It felt like biting a lemon. Anjolis and the priests set about crushing the undead or setting them ablaze even further till the field was cleansed of the monsters. Hannah didn't like snapping at her companions, but that was one topic she was touchy about.
"The Undead must have a life-force. No matter how battered a body, as long as it has legs and a torso, it raises, but then a fatal blow takes it down again, even if it is to the shoulder, or the chest." Hannah mused, giving her gnomish friend something else to take about, and a reprieve from the awkwardness of before. However, he didn't get the chance, as one of the snot-nosed brats she was trying to turn into a warrior arrived, and grinned at Hannah.
"This is the fourth band we have fought today, two being corsairs and one being undead. You going to go around killing hordes until you get over the tournament?" He asked, and Hannah turned to him with a slight smile. Unlike her gnomish friend, this noble brat couldn't anger her if he tried, which he did frequently.
"Yes, and I will continue to until I am satisfied. And if you don't like It then I will place you back in the murky tavern where I found you and you can harass people till your spoils run out and you are turfed out onto the street. Or you can sit with the women and knit, or prepare the food, or wash the clothes" She told him, thinking about the tournament.
- Dhirim was a great place for a fight. Hannah didn't really hold with fighting physically most times, but the tournament was a great place to earn some renown, her purse was decent enough to not need bets upon herself, and so she entered into the melee. However, she was given a large, heavy wooden blade and sent into the battle. Four people she had never seen flanked her, facing off against three other teams, with the equal number. Hannah quickly realized that there was a lot more to this fighting thing than she realized.
Her frantic, wild swinging didn't get her anyway, until by chance she caught it on the side of a man's helmet and knocked him to the floor. Her team had managed to survive long enough to have run of out enemies to fight, and so where declared victors, and sent to the second round. There she was given a bow and sent in with one other man. Her attempts to shoot the bow accurately where poor, and her friend was defeated in the two-vs-one match.
However, her oppoent's ally caught one of the flailed arrows to the chest, and didn't stand, leaving this old man with a sword and shield to fight her alone. The man - Count Grainwad - suddenly closed the gap between the two of them while Hannah was fumbling with her knife, and struck her kneecap, before moving around and cracking the sword across her back, pitching her onto the floor, and knocking her from the competition.
"We are done, Lady Hannah" Anjolis told Hannah, snapping her out of her day-dream and bringing her back to the present. The dead where now properly dead, and Hannah was content to move on, but she saw the tiredness of Anjolis, and a quick scan of her troops showed they where little better. Hannah herself was relatively out of magical power, and so was forced to admit that fighting three large scale battles in one day was exhausting.
"Very good. We are going to head to Praven now, and rest a while in the tavern. Ready the men for a short march" she told Anjolis, before sweeping her robes around, and heading to her mages, relaying orders and reading for a arrival to Praven.
A small while later - they had not really moved to far from Praven - they arrived back at the town, and Hannah had spent the time changing from her Mage robes into a soft, blue silk dress. This, and the way she carried herself could make her easily appear as a noblewoman. Which, technically she was, since the Archmage was akin to the other kings of the land, and she was one of his Vassals. As she entered, there was the brewing of a large brawl, and she was glad that Anjolis had followed her, still in his armour and bearing the enchanted Mace that marked him as the head of her Priests. To the casual observer however, he looked like a simple bodyguard for his employer. Finding a seat, Hannah sat down and pondered what she was going to order, naturally she could go to the King's hall and would be welcomed - Everyone welcomed the lords of the Ridas Magocracy, since only a fool scorned a person able to blow a hole in your city with naught but their hand - but she was not noble born like most of the lords, and so felt uncomfortable in the presence of nobility and royalty, preferring to keep humble, thus the tavern.
"So, what do are your thoughts about this Chaplin person we heard about from them Knights?" Hannah asked Anjolis, placing an order for a modest meal, and some mead for Anjolis - he liked mead, since it scooted the 'Shall not taste the fermentation of Wheat nor Grape' part of his holy vows, and tasted nice - scanning the room lazily.
There, in the corner, listening to everyone, was a man. He had bearing, and confidence, and looked like he could - and probably did - lead a considerable host of men. As most bandits found out, that was no easy feat. However, before she could go any further into her thought, the arguement that was brewing when she walked in turned heated, as the two men started to scuffle with each other on the ground. Hannah frowned at them as she saw a glint, thinking it to be a ring or some such, but realized to late what it really was. Several seconds later, blood splattered the floor, and the man suddenly pitched backwards, a knife in his chest. The assailant fled the tavern quickly, but Hannah's eyes where fixed on the corpse. A few more heartbeats passed before it blinked, and stood back up, the knife still in it's heart, and the fresh blood dripping on the floor as he stared, unblinkingly at Hannah, awaiting her instruction.
( http://i58.tinypic.com/x43x9g.png )
The Shadows where stronger than most, but White Bolt hit them hard, until a stray Lightning Bolt from one of the Shadow Mages got lucky and took Hannah down for the count. It was at this point she realized that dispite her magical prowess when it came to offensive casting, she had very little ability in way of defending against a magical attack. However, her troops continuted to fight the Shadows, and eventually destroyed them.
http://i58.tinypic.com/2hfhnie.png
One Shadow, while dying - or whatever it was they did - claimed that 'The Shadow Knights will consume the World, and The Chaplain can not stop them'. It only occured to Firentis after he had crushed the shadow with his maul that The Chaplain was an odd thing to come from a Shadow's mouth. Chaplains where high-ranking clerics, but there where a considerable number of them so singling out one was strange. When Hannah had been roused from her painful sleep, Firentis brought this to her attention.
"It is strange that they would single out a Chaplain, very strange" She muttered, but before she could give it any more thought, word came in that the prison-train following the Shadow's contained - among the usual refugees - five heavy Swandain Knights of the King. They where heavily armoured, and highly skilled, which made Hannah interested in recruiting them, a task that was made easy by the Knights belief that the King had abandoned them to the Shadows.
The next morning, after rest, word came that a Master of the Ridas had gone mental, and was terroizing the countryside with his Golems. Hannah put aside the mystery, and rushed home to deal with the threat, it being one of her own that had cracked.
http://i61.tinypic.com/atvz0j.png
The Knights of the King where brilliant at taking the fire from the Golems, keeping them at a sufficent distance from the mages, and allowing the combined fire of Hannah's Mages to bring them down with relitive ease, or though only one knight remained concious after the blows the golems gave them. After laying the crazed man to rest, Hannah returned to the Wizard's Tower to rest and recover, the Knights that where knocked unconcious came round without any ill-effects, and just in time, as Hannah heard a group of powerful Shadow Knights. She wondered if they where the same Shadow Knights as the ones that where mentioned in the fight earlier, and so moved her warband in to engage with the knights. The leader saw them approch and rasped angrily.
"If you kill a thousand, ten thousand of us, we shall not relent the Chaplain to you!" Which of course, caused confusion in Hannah.
"Dude, I don't know who the Chaplain is, I'm just here to kill you all" she replied, and with such a poetic statement, battle was joined.
http://i59.tinypic.com/kcxqpi.png
Again, the Knights of the King performed with steller results, and Hannah's White Bolt healed their wounds while devistating the Shadow Knight's ranks. However, Hannah caught the wrong end of one of the Shadow Knight's fireballs, leaving her weak, and just as she readied a White Bolt to heal herself, one of the few remaining mounted Knights caught her in the back with a Lance. The enchanted cloth held, but the force of it projected her to the floor, rendering her unconcious again, and very annoyed.
http://i61.tinypic.com/auul5.jpg
The group of Bodyguards and Mages dispatched the rest of the Knights, and then set about tending to the wounded, including Hannah. However, when she woke, she wasn't as angry as most would have expected, instead she was curious, curious about this 'Chaplain' and why the Shadows where obsessed with him. So, when fully recovered, Hannah started asking questions where-ever she could, villages and towns, castles and lords, for any scrap of what The Chaplain meant.
-several days later-
The Mage charged at Hannah with hood-covered face and staff ready to swing. Around him, his friends fell to the crossbows of her men, or the magic of her mages. A few had made it to the Line, and where engaging the infantry and few Golems she had in her army. A fireball was flung from one of the more experienced mages and smashed into a Clay Golem, blowing it apart. Hannah could swear the man was laughing but he was to far away to be sure.
And then, the grey-clad man charging at her suddenly sprouted a bolt in his head and collapsed, but the few greens in the background where still active. So, charging her magic to the palm of her hand, Hannah fired off a Missile Storm in the mages direction. She hit some and they fell from the pain, but others managed to remain out of the way, but they where picked off by her allies, and so she sighed.
More deserters from the Ridas Mageocracy. She could understand the novices, and maybe the apprentices but she had no idea why the Adapts would desert. They where on the path the power, and then threw it away to meet the end of a bolt. But, she had bigger problems, as she looked out onto the field of mages.
The Dead rose. The Dead always rose. Old and young, Charred and crushed, Devout(as well as the bandit-priests could be called such) and heretics. Whenever Hannah fought, the Dead rose. She hated the fact that it happened every time, but her men had gotten used to it after the first couple of times, and they did not do anything once they got up, which was good.
"Never seen the like. Most Necromancers are-" Her gnomish friend started, before Hannah rounded on him with a venomous expression.
"I am not a necromancer!" she shouted, looking out into the field of dead, the acrid stench of burning flesh still hung thickly. One of the problems with having a large group of Fireball tossing mages. "Anjolis, gather the priests of Mordin and set the awoken's souls to rest" She ordered. That was her name for the undead that woke on her watch. She didn't like calling them undead. It felt like biting a lemon. Anjolis and the priests set about crushing the undead or setting them ablaze even further till the field was cleansed of the monsters. Hannah didn't like snapping at her companions, but that was one topic she was touchy about.
"The Undead must have a life-force. No matter how battered a body, as long as it has legs and a torso, it raises, but then a fatal blow takes it down again, even if it is to the shoulder, or the chest." Hannah mused, giving her gnomish friend something else to take about, and a reprieve from the awkwardness of before. However, he didn't get the chance, as one of the snot-nosed brats she was trying to turn into a warrior arrived, and grinned at Hannah.
"This is the fourth band we have fought today, two being corsairs and one being undead. You going to go around killing hordes until you get over the tournament?" He asked, and Hannah turned to him with a slight smile. Unlike her gnomish friend, this noble brat couldn't anger her if he tried, which he did frequently.
"Yes, and I will continue to until I am satisfied. And if you don't like It then I will place you back in the murky tavern where I found you and you can harass people till your spoils run out and you are turfed out onto the street. Or you can sit with the women and knit, or prepare the food, or wash the clothes" She told him, thinking about the tournament.
- Dhirim was a great place for a fight. Hannah didn't really hold with fighting physically most times, but the tournament was a great place to earn some renown, her purse was decent enough to not need bets upon herself, and so she entered into the melee. However, she was given a large, heavy wooden blade and sent into the battle. Four people she had never seen flanked her, facing off against three other teams, with the equal number. Hannah quickly realized that there was a lot more to this fighting thing than she realized.
Her frantic, wild swinging didn't get her anyway, until by chance she caught it on the side of a man's helmet and knocked him to the floor. Her team had managed to survive long enough to have run of out enemies to fight, and so where declared victors, and sent to the second round. There she was given a bow and sent in with one other man. Her attempts to shoot the bow accurately where poor, and her friend was defeated in the two-vs-one match.
However, her oppoent's ally caught one of the flailed arrows to the chest, and didn't stand, leaving this old man with a sword and shield to fight her alone. The man - Count Grainwad - suddenly closed the gap between the two of them while Hannah was fumbling with her knife, and struck her kneecap, before moving around and cracking the sword across her back, pitching her onto the floor, and knocking her from the competition.
"We are done, Lady Hannah" Anjolis told Hannah, snapping her out of her day-dream and bringing her back to the present. The dead where now properly dead, and Hannah was content to move on, but she saw the tiredness of Anjolis, and a quick scan of her troops showed they where little better. Hannah herself was relatively out of magical power, and so was forced to admit that fighting three large scale battles in one day was exhausting.
"Very good. We are going to head to Praven now, and rest a while in the tavern. Ready the men for a short march" she told Anjolis, before sweeping her robes around, and heading to her mages, relaying orders and reading for a arrival to Praven.
A small while later - they had not really moved to far from Praven - they arrived back at the town, and Hannah had spent the time changing from her Mage robes into a soft, blue silk dress. This, and the way she carried herself could make her easily appear as a noblewoman. Which, technically she was, since the Archmage was akin to the other kings of the land, and she was one of his Vassals. As she entered, there was the brewing of a large brawl, and she was glad that Anjolis had followed her, still in his armour and bearing the enchanted Mace that marked him as the head of her Priests. To the casual observer however, he looked like a simple bodyguard for his employer. Finding a seat, Hannah sat down and pondered what she was going to order, naturally she could go to the King's hall and would be welcomed - Everyone welcomed the lords of the Ridas Magocracy, since only a fool scorned a person able to blow a hole in your city with naught but their hand - but she was not noble born like most of the lords, and so felt uncomfortable in the presence of nobility and royalty, preferring to keep humble, thus the tavern.
"So, what do are your thoughts about this Chaplin person we heard about from them Knights?" Hannah asked Anjolis, placing an order for a modest meal, and some mead for Anjolis - he liked mead, since it scooted the 'Shall not taste the fermentation of Wheat nor Grape' part of his holy vows, and tasted nice - scanning the room lazily.
There, in the corner, listening to everyone, was a man. He had bearing, and confidence, and looked like he could - and probably did - lead a considerable host of men. As most bandits found out, that was no easy feat. However, before she could go any further into her thought, the arguement that was brewing when she walked in turned heated, as the two men started to scuffle with each other on the ground. Hannah frowned at them as she saw a glint, thinking it to be a ring or some such, but realized to late what it really was. Several seconds later, blood splattered the floor, and the man suddenly pitched backwards, a knife in his chest. The assailant fled the tavern quickly, but Hannah's eyes where fixed on the corpse. A few more heartbeats passed before it blinked, and stood back up, the knife still in it's heart, and the fresh blood dripping on the floor as he stared, unblinkingly at Hannah, awaiting her instruction.
