บท 37: Chapter 37: The Army Under the City
4 days earlier, western edge of the Weeping Peninsula…
With a gasp, Rick drags himself across a circular platform of stone, hacking for breath.
His left arm feels dead; frostbite ravages his skin and digs into his nerves. He's sweating, shuddering; barely holding onto life.
But he's alive.
He turns himself over, practically flopping onto his back, looking toward the evening sky…
He grins.
"Heh… heheheh ha! Ha! Ahahah! Did you see that!?" He bellows, raising his good arm into the humid air.
It holds fast to a round object, recently plucked from a corpse he just split in two.
"Queen Marika, did you bear witness!?" He pinches the object, letting its glassy surface shine in the evening rays. "Lord Radagon, were you the one who grated me strength!?"
An eye with an engraven rune for a pupil stares unendingly back at him, filling him with a power that's palpable.
Radagon's Scarseal.
He came here to bolster his forces, much like he did with the Evergaol back near the bridge to Limgrave. The resident of that prison fell into line, but the one here wasn't as eager. Both speak little, if not at all, but one bowed their head, while the other brandished their sword.
This trip was a failure…
But…
Rick is giddy.
He just proved it, through brute strength and overwhelming might.
He's stronger than an Ancient Hero of Zamor.
He's better than a warrior of legend, a living tale of the war against the Giants so many millennia ago. He's truly become stronger.
He must return to his army soon, they will reach Bellard's walls after night falls. He must pull his injured self to Agheel; the dragon will do nothing for him unless he forces it to.
He must resume his campaign to overthrow Castle Morne; those headless zealots with their walking monoliths gave him a viciously tight schedule.
There is much he still must do, but just for this moment, he basks in his earned victory. He truly has become strong.
Present day, night of the 27th day since Lance awoke in the Lands Between.
Blaidd lands, like something out of a batman movie.
He slams onto the bricked stone an arm's reach away, wafting an alien chill over us all.
He rises from his hunched position to his overwhelming height, hairy cape settling in and conforming to his shoulders.
The soldiers step back, weary of the monster in front of them. They seem to get the idea he means them no harm; he has yet to draw his sword. But their faces also seem to project something different: they know they can't defeat him, even if they tried.
He gives them all a passing glance, before he stares down at me.
"Tarnished… Lance was it? What are you doing with Edgar's lot? And where in the blazes is Kalé?"
He gives them all a second glare, staring at Drew the longest.
"Did you get captured?"
Irina's face flashes in my mind; I lose the smile I had.
I can't sum it all up, and I still can't figure out why I originally stayed. It all got so complicated so quickly; I've done the best I can to keep up.
My frown deepens, almost to a scowl.
Even then, I still couldn't keep up.
"It's a long story." I say, sighing.
It truly is a long story; so much happened in so little time.
"Kalé's fine for now, he's just in hiding."
I change the subject, meeting the wolfman in the eye.
"Why are you this far south? Was that the Bloodhound Knight you were after?"
Blaidd nods.
"Aye. I traced the snake to an Evergaol not far from where I ran into Kalé and you. His scent was all over it, but it cut off there. It was like he just sprouted wings and flew away."
Ever-jail?
Evergaol. A prison designed to keep the most treacherous of warriors and heretics locked away. If Darriwil was in one…
"And you came here?"
Blaidd gives what could only be considered a shrug.
"I played on a hunch. The action all seemed to center around here, and if Darriwil wished to get as far from Mistress Ra-…"
He gives Drew and the other soldiers a meaningful glare.
"Mistress Renna… Then I surmised he would come here."
Lucky guess. That or tactful reasoning. From what I've collected during our previous interaction, Blaidd is far too literal. He wouldn't go to such lengths on a guess, he either found conclusive evidence, or that "hunch" of his was his gut feeling.
"Lucky guess."
"You jest. I've known Darriwil for a substantial time. I know how he ticks."
Blaidd stalks over to the edge of the rampart, peering out into the dark ocean water far below.
"He is a coward, and he despises fights if he doesn't have the advantage. I knew he would attempt to escape my fangs," He gives the water a peculiar look. "I just didn't know he would go to such lengths."
"Can he swim?"
I join him at the edge of the rampart; Blaidd looks down at me.
"Aye."
A Bloodhound Knight, swimming toward you in dark waters. Like something of a snake, as silent as death beside the occasional splash...
Isn't that a cheerful picture?
I don't know how he'd be able to, with that armor on and the big sword with him, but I've seen stranger things in this world.
…
I consider Blaidd for a moment, watching his eyes as he stares back at the water…
Is that fear?
Surely not, right?
"…Can you swim?"
Blaidd gives me the most incredulous glare.
"What makes you say that? Of course I can swim."
"Then, can't you chase after him?"
Blaidd stutters on that, his long mouth half open to say something.
The mouth shuts closed, and Blaidd falls silent.
Why must you insist on provoking every dangerous person you meet? Roard, the two knights, the warden… now him too?
"Pursuing Darriwil in the water would be a fool's errand. I'll stay near the shore, wait for him to drag his sorry excuse for an arse back out."
His eyes say otherwise, you'd think he was a cat.
Is he afraid of water?
His mistress lives in Liurnia, an area north of here. That region is dominated by a colossal and shallow lake, many times larger than Agheel's lake.
He cannot be afraid of water.
And? What does his runes say?
He's… reluctant. His runes have no intention of jumping into the sea.
Slowly, as we conserved, and as I started pushing Blaidd's buttons, Drew joined us at the rampart edge, scanning the area below like a hawk.
"Bastard might not return to the shore."
Blaidd and I both look at him, he only meets my gaze.
"Drainage for Bellard empties out to the water on this side. There's more than one tunnel down there."
Ah. Crud.
I find Blaidd cocking an eyebrow, while Drew refuses to look him in the eyes. You can call it hostility, but it's more than likely he's intimidated. I was too, and I still am. But I face Blaidd nonetheless.
"Enemy's hiding in the sewers. They've been retreating to there thus far."
Blaidd looks even more confused, though it seems like he's already figured it out.
"What kind of enemy?"
I give a slight shrug.
"Godrick's Soldiers, Misbegotten… the dragon Agheel too…"
I chew on the inside of my cheek.
"A traitor, and this… man… with silver skin-"
Before I can react, before Melina can warn me; before I even finished speaking, Blaidd grabs me.
Not like I'm being grappled, but manhandled. Arrested in place, making me jump. But Blaidd stores holes into me, his canine face overloaded with suspicion.
"Silver. Skin?"
Oh. What?
Uh.
"Uh, yeah."
He speaks like he's running out of time.
"Did he have a silk veil? A flowing hammer? Did he have a weapon?"
"I… I-I… no… no nothing like that."
I avert my gaze.
"What about his eyes? His face? Answer me."
I don't know how, but I find it in myself to repel him.
"He had black clothes on!"
I shove his hands off.
"And I didn't get a good look at his face."
Blaidd takes a step back, which doesn't do much when he's still towering over me. But he loses that fresh mania in his eyes, if only a little.
"He had this… knife. It was glowing orange. He used it to kill Irina…"
I look toward the ground.
"Burned her to ash… right in front of me."
Mutters pass through the surrounding soldiers, curses and slurs riding on their tongues. Some of them must resent me, but I don't care.
I meet Blaidd gaze; he's studying me.
"I don't know who he was, and before you ask, I don't know where he went either. He might be their leader; might not. But I do know I want to kill him when I see him again."
Silence follows, until I'm the one to break it.
"Happy?"
I don't want to talk about Irina, bringing up her death and describing the man who did it; it pisses me off. I don't want to talk about it.
Not in the slightest.
"Apologies mate." Blaidd says after a moment. "I was unaware you had your fair share of troubles here."
Irina?
Troubles?
"But I'd suffice to say you think Darriwil is apart of this?"
"Yes." I say bluntly.
Darriwil attacking me, there's no way it's just a coincidence. Maybe he saw me with Blaidd back on the bridge, and targeted me then. But why wait so long? If finding the opportunity to kill me took this long, then either Darriwil feared that I might've actually held my own against him, or that silver man ordered him to kill me after my outburst in Bellard's alleyways.
The first outcome is almost laughable; our altercation was entirely one-sided.
I doubt even having a weapon would've made a difference.
We can only assume he is apart of the enemy. There would be little reason for a Bloodhound Knight to target you otherwise.
My thoughts exactly.
Then, what will you do?
I'm… still thinking about that.
I find myself calming down, if only a little. Speaking to Melina, it makes my head clear.
So I take a deep breath.
"I assume you're going after him then?"
Blaidd reluctantly nods, peering back over the edge.
"Aye. My mission is to kill the bastard. If he truly has chosen a new master so easily,"
He snarls.
"Then I'll make sure let him bleed out."
"I'm coming too."
Drew gives me the most incredulous expression, like I just grew horns and started breathing fire.
"You what?" He utters.
Blaidd ponders that, stroking his chin.
"Still going on about that? You seeking out revenge? If that be the case, then I suggest you drop it."
He gives the smallest shake of his head.
"Very few can hunt a Bloodhound Knight, and I don't suppose you know how."
"I'm not in it for revenge."
Why then?
Don't you see? This is the perfect opportunity to scout the enemy out. Balidd's probably worth a hundred men, and I'm sure he knows how to sneak around. If just the three of us go into the sewers, we can go about undetected.
Might even be able to kill that silver man.
"I'm in it because I need to know what Morne is up against."
It is a… sound idea. But if you get separated from Blaidd. If you face that silver man alone. If you get overwhelmed. What will you do?
The weight of that golden ring on my right hand feels somewhat heavier.
I just have to blow into it… right?
I'll use Torrent.
And the silver man?
We'll burn him to ash.
"Are you sure about this?"
An opportunity like this won't come again, and I can feel it in the air; pretty sure everyone can: Morne is running out of time. Maybe not tomorrow, or the day after that, but soon: we'll get overwhelmed.
We'll lose.
I can always escape if the castle falls, but…
"I'm sure."
Blaidd nods to that.
"Suit yourself. I took Tarnished to be eager fighters, but if what you said is true, we'll be walking into a den of snakes. It's not a place you should wander into."
I almost smile… almost.
"Then, lead the way."
He grins at that.
"Drew."
A soldier exits the keep; he nearly stumbles over when he gets a sight of Blaidd. It's one of the soldiers Drew sent away a few minutes ago.
"Yes?"
The soldier acts like if a child has seen a dog for the first time, facing Drew but occasionally eyeing Blaidd.
"Lord Haight and Warden Edgar are accounted for. They've been secured."
Drew nods at that.
"Good. Spread the word: the intruder has fled the castle. Maintain posts and keep yer eyes peeled."
The soldier gives what I think is a salute, before he retreats back into the keep…
Is Drew a bigwig around here?
He looks relatively the same as the other soldiers; his eyes are dulled and his face is haggardly grey. But he's been barking orders for a while now, and everyone else is listening to him.
Is he the next in line?
When both knights and the warden are out of commission?
He looks my way, not picking up on the questions pasted on my face. He's not as perceptive as Kalé and Edgar.
"Don't have to play the hero, Tarnished. You're no good to us dead."
He says that, but he's grinning.
I give Blaidd a glance; he nods away.
Let's make haste. He seems to say.
I being to walk away.
"I'll keep that in mind."
"That a fact? Then bring us Trey's head on a platter."
If I see the knight… I just might. For them, if nothing else.
I've been in my own world since Irina died, but the soldiers must have their reservations too. They adored Irina, protected her… loved her. The Princess of Castle Morne. They will do their duty; they won't step out of line. They work tirelessly and violently toward their common goal, but they must be mad.
Must be furious.
Enraged.
A traitor reared his ugly head.
Stole their treasured sword, brought their Princess to slaughter. I see it in their eyes; saw it even in Dalia's.
I see contempt.
Trey betrayed them, in light of when they needed him most.
A defector.
A rat.
The most vile kind of enemy: the ally that stabs you in the back.
I look back to Drew, and all the other soldiers here that watch me go. I crack a sly smile, finding myself influenced by the atmosphere.
"I'll be sure to stuff his gaping mouth full of rowa berries."
The amount of bared teeth, flashing in the firelight… it's a night sky of starry grins.
Blaidd and I moved quickly through the sewer system: a network of tunnels and drainage channels that all smell exactly as one would think.
Something about running through sewer tunnels like these, with a sword leveraged against my shoulder… this all feels somewhat familiar.
Like I've done this before.
The spell of black ropes over my thoughts cracked open, and now, more stimuli other than sudden flashes of names and déjà vu have begun to leak out. It doesn't feel right, per say; it's like I was in another sewer system.
But this sensation, of turning corner after corner, meager golden light leading the way. The stench, the sound, the smell. That thick fog of putrid vapor that makes me gag; it's all so familiar.
At this rate, the spell on me might just fall apart before Melina gets a chance to unwind it.
Even still, the tangle is still potent, only letting out emotions and feelings occasionally. It's all stuff I'm used to for the most part, but some have a different flavor. I can't explain it; feelings having a different flavor, so I won't. I'll simply say that the feelings and emotions feel new, despite supposedly being my own from the past few months on Earth.
It's strange, far too strange.
Whatever the case, I paid it all little mind, focusing more on the path ahead than anything else.
We go left, we go right. We feel more like rats in a maze than anything else, and it only gets more complex the farther in we go.
I slide down a decline in these massive stone pipes, hopping at the bottom to evade a pile of unknown sludge that collected where the ground evens out again. I think for a moment the sludge moved, but it must've been my imagination.
Blaidd leads the way, somehow following Darriwil's elusive scent through this repulsive sewage.
Melina watches our rear, searching for the runes of anyone following us.
She says something about runes in the sludge, but apparently it's such a meager amount that it's probably just a handful of worms living in there. It's news to me, hearing that insects have runes too.
I know the animals have them, but now I'm wondering if the bushes and trees have them too.
Melina doesn't give me a clear answer.
It wasn't until we trekked through the sewers for what felt like an hour, that Blaidd halts the group.
"Claws out." He mutters, stopping me with an outstretched arm. "We have company."
I draw my greatsword, partisan ready as a spare. Melina joins me, lighting up Blaidd's towering cape of fur with dim gold.
"How many?"
"It sounds like two, but there may be more."
Up ahead, past Blaidd's cape, the tunnel opens up, into a large room of connecting pipes and ladders. With it, under meager silver light of the waxing moon, a single misbegotten trots by, giving the ground beneath it a mindless gaze. Its cocky grin and squinty eyes out for all to see, along with a nasty cleaver it lets drag on the stone behind it.
I can't see any others, but I know not to trust that.
Can you see the other one?
…There is four in total.
Oh.
You sure?
Two stay against to the walls closest to us; they are poised to attack. Another is farther into the room, watching as well.
"It's a trap."
Blaidd glances back at me, cocking an eyebrow.
"With only two?"
I circle to stand slightly ahead of him.
"There's four. Two against the walls, one in the back…"
I point the spots out, landing my finger finally on the visible misbegotten dead ahead.
"And one right there, as bait."
Are you certain it is a trap? How would they know we're here already?
If that is the word you decide to use; they are certainly waiting for something.
Blaidd echoes my thought.
"How can you be certain? Is it another Tarnished ability?"
It's my turn to cock an eyebrow.
"Another?"
"Your Rune of Death, mate. Might it let you see runes too?"
...
…Kalé.
I completely forgot that snickering merchant told him.
Well?
If you wish for my thoughts, I would advise against it.
"Call it intuition."
Blaidd considers it, watching this misbegotten pace back and forth, in an almost uncannily way.
"I see no reason why you would lie to me now. So, what's the plan?"
"…Plan?"
Blaidd nods, drawing his sword. He effortlessly holds the thing out like it's apart of his arm, levitating that chilling tip inches from the dirt and grime.
"Aye. It's your call."
Is he testing me?
…
Can't tell.
The usual mania in his eyes stifles my ability to see such a complex emotion like that.
…
Plan.
Plan plan.
Plan plan plan.
"Can you do that ice explosion?"
"Come again?"
I make an explosive motion with my hands.
"On the bridge, you landed with a blast of cold air, froze those soldiers to ice pops in an instant."
Blaidd blinks a few times. Before recognition flashes over his eyes.
"Ah, that."
I nod.
"Yeah, use that, right at the entryway."
Blaidd considers it.
"The rest?"
"I'll take the one wandering around in the middle, whoever reaches the guy in the back gets the honor of killing it."
Any objections?
...
You have changed yet again. Your plans have never been this sound.
That's good, right?
Yes. Yes, it is.
If trouble arises, I will assist. But otherwise, I will leave this to you.
...
Huh.
Weird feeling.
Like a parent saying you don't need training wheels anymore…
No, that's a stupid metaphor.
Whatever.
Thanks.
Blaidd nods, before he hunches, placing one hand on the ground.
"I would stand back if I were you."
Without another word, he lunges forward, running three legged like a wolf in pursuit. He snarls, stabs his ascended blade into the ground at the opening, before using it like a pole vault, launching himself skyward. He completely disappears form view, like a rope just tugged him up into the air.
Melina won't tell me when to go; I can't wait for Blaidd's attack to land. So, I choose based off my own judgement, powering ahead with my greatsword ready with the decision made in my head.
Here goes nothing.
Chuffing that almost sounds like confusion sound behind the walls; that lazy one in the center looks at something I can't see above it.
Ghastly blue light illuminates the walls, the floor. It matches the moon's light almost perfectly; it promises frigid death.
Bewilderment overtakes the four misbegotten, until Blaidd's plummeting form lands back into frame, and for a moment, just a split second; I see his glittering sword plunge deep into the ground.
His attack lands.
To me, it's a flash of white light enveloping the entirety of the tunnel ahead.
To Melina, it's a rupture of condensed magic from the blade, ripping itself free of the pressure underground like a geyser… or a landmine.
And to the two misbegotten, who thought they could get a jump on their prey; they can't see anything.
Their eyes froze solid instantly; their blood vessels solidified and their skin frosted over. They died, resembling a frozen photo of their last moments of life: Shock.
Their runes come to me.
I run through the dissipating white nova, shivering uncontrollably as I pass Blaidd's rising silhouette in the temporary fog. I haven't felt this cold since plunging headfirst into Agheel's lake. Even then, this chill is something else.
It bites my eyes, injects venom into my lungs.
Reveals my own breaths as vapor, solidifies and cracks under my charging feet.
The misbegotten can't see me; it takes a cautionary step away from the settling mist.
Without warning, I appear from the obscurity, an arm's reach away, like an apparition from the void.
It can't react, can't bring up its cleaver up to bear. It only meets eyes with mine, as I drive my sword down, hacking into its skull like a lumberjack.
Vibrations run up and down my forearms; my blade digs in.
The misbegotten's vision wanders; right eye sloughing off and jaw going slack. It can see my determined face and the ground at the same time, before all goes black.
Its dead before I pull my sword out.
The final misbegotten... It's a large one. It lumbers into the moonlight, wielding its axe like a troll with a tree. It eyes me with revenge and hate in its manic-gripped eyes, grumbling a low and somewhat deafening growl.
Seems I get the honor of killing it. Alone this time.
I take up my stance; a new one Melina taught me today.
I usually anchor my right foot back, planting my left forward with my blade facing ahead. Its my normal stance.
But I try the new one; Melina said its perfect for a greatsword.
I take up a stance like a baseball batter, putting nearly all my weight on my right foot. I bring my blade up and behind my head, like I'm winding up for a swing. It leaves me completely exposed, but that's the point.
A sword this big, with this much of potential windup. It's insane for a fencer like me to comprehend. It doesn't matter if they try to stab me at the get go; if they don't kill me outright, my poise, or balance, can handle it.
If they don't dodge, if they don't retreat or take the madman's idea to try and parry; they face a sharpened blade carrying the might of a sledgehammer; instant death on an unarmored foe is the best-case scenario for them.
Severed muscles, broken bones and bleeding organs; slow death to their detriment is among the worst-case scenarios.
So I take up the stance, facing the large misbegotten…
I can die.
A single well-placed stroke of that axe…
I growl.
"Come on then… you unloved son of a whore."
With a loud gargle, that axe comes swinging down. But I started moving as soon as it wavered.
The axe head missing my ducking head; the long shaft brushing against my approaching shoulder.
Crouch to the ground, tense up my whole body like a spring. Feel something powerful course through me…
Hear the howl of rushing air in my ears, taste the stale sensation as a shiver travels down my spine, smell the scent of sewage and fresh blood as my sword tip skips along the ground, arcing up and driving skyward like a massive uppercut.
I see an arm part in two, a chest sliced open, and a wide jaw taking everything left my attack has to offer.
The misbegotten leaves its axe in the ground; leaves its severed left hand on the shaft. Its feet leave the ground; leaves its blood on my blade. Its runes leave its body; it permanently leaves this world.
Its nearly split head rocks back, and it falls.
"Hah… hah…"
That… that took a lot out of me… ow.
My arms hurt.
Muscles screaming for release; I let my 30-pound sword's blunted tip rest on the ground.
That… was unexpected.
I give the axe next to me a wary glance, sliding a step away when the severed hand falls to the floor, splatting rather ungraciously into the crimson-covered filth.
What was that? What did you teach me?
I… I taught you an effective stance for a greatsword. I did not teach you… that.
I severed the misbegotten's hand, sliced it open like a fish, and shattered its jaw; all in one stroke.
Its feet might've even left the ground for a second too.
The creature is skinny, but it's still huge. I got a little stronger, but not that strong.
Blaidd trounces over, looking at my handiwork.
"Well that is a sight, I didn't know you had it in you."
"I-… I don't though."
Blaidd hums to that, giving my sword a glance over.
"I don't suppose you know who used that sword before you, eh?"
"No." I sound almost incredulous as I look the thing over. "I took it off a wall. So… it's new?"
Blaidd clicks his tongue at that.
"Hard chance. This bloody war has gone on long enough that every weapon in these lands have been extensively used. If not, then their ore has been recycled to make fresh ones. I find it hard to believe that your sword is new."
Recycled? What does recycling the metal have to do with anything… with what I just did?
Why does it matter if someone used this sword before?
Ah, I see.
What? What is it?
...
She does that thing; that thing where she just goes silent. It's like she's pondering something.
Sheesh, it's always something new. I feel like pigs will start to fly before I ever get the chance to understand everything about this world. Actually, no, I'm not saying that. I bet there are pigs out there with wings, or they fly with magic or something. I don't want to imagine a flying pig.
"Regardless, the path's been cleared." Blaidd says, leaving me behind. "Let's continue on our way."
I stare my sword down for a moment longer, before begrudgingly walking away, not bothering to give the desecrated corpse another look. The chest… its not a sight I'd like to dwell on.
We run into more and more misbegotten, killing where we must and evading where we can. Blaidd had already come to admit the fact that Darriwil is apart of these brutes, and it's only strengthened as the altercations we run into increase in number.
Like we're trekking our way through an ant nest, making a beeline for the queen's chamber...
No pun intended.
The outer tunnels were barren, but we're getting into the thick of it now.
One misbegotten, two. A misbegotten the color red, and another the color blue.
Not really, but they are in abundance.
At one point, we got stuck; a corner-turn away from a tunnel stuffed to the gills with chuffing and snarling creatures. If we want to get through, we'd need to kill 20, maybe even 30.
An assault like that, I don't know if we can handle it.
Blaidd probably could, but I'd get snuffed out quickly.
I don't know how I did that one attack, couldn't quite replicate it when I tried. It feels like I'm missing something, and I don't know what that something is. So I'm stuck doing my usual thing; my usual thing means squat against a force this big.
Worse still, there's no way around them.
Darriwil's trail heads this way, so if we don't want to lose the Bloodhound Knight, we need to get through. The biggest issue, per Blaidd's demand; is we need to be stealthy; we can't alert the enemy.
Darriwil knows Blaidd's after him now; at the first sign of trouble, the Bloodhound Knight will vanish like that. If Blaidd wants to get the jump on him, we need to be nice and close.
There is a path.
I retreat from the corner under Blaidd's hairy head, taking a knee.
There is?
The wolfman looks down.
"Find something, mate?" He whispers.
There is a tunnel directly above us.
I look up, locking eyes with Blaidd for only a moment. Ceiling looks the same as it always does down here.
How can you tell?
Trace runes from the insects around here. It is letting me see the network around us, though only scarcely. If you ask Blaidd to destroy the ceiling, we can climb up another level.
Does it get us over the misbegotten?
I cannot be certain; it is far too muddled from that distance. The runes are blurry, and I cannot make out numbers.
There is a chance misbegotten are above us as well.
"There's another tunnel directly above us."
Blaidd looks up as well. He returns to my gaze.
"Now, how would you know something like that?"
I dodge the question.
I've already let Melina's abilities slip because of my loose tongue; my loose tongue has brought me nothing but terrible feelings and contempt these last few days. Don't know why it took me so long, but I learned laying all my secrets out to bare in the hope someone trusts me more is a terrible idea.
"Can you make a hole up there?"
"Without a doubt. But it will be loud."
"And Darriwil's scent?"
Blaidd takes in a big whiff, brushing off the putrid smell of sewage like it's nothing.
"The trail is fresh. He's close."
He wields his sword.
"So, directly above?"
I start, hissing.
"Wait! Not here! We're too close!"
Blaidd shrugs, and he plunges his sword into the ceiling without a moment longer to hesitate.
Those misbegotten, they start as a loud bang, followed by a crash, echoes about amongst them.
Down the hall of their tunnel, dust and broken bricks tumble into view around the corner. The misbegotten stare; a few go to investigate.
They draw near…
Round the corner…
…
And find the whole tunnel had collapsed.
Dirt and stone completely blocks the path.
The misbegotten sniff the air, but they are not as keen as Blaidd. They smell only sewage, and the slight odor of blood, which is nothing new down here. Neither is cave-ins; this city has deteriorated to such an extent from Agheel's fire that the tunnels down here have been collapsing all the time.
No sight of danger, no smell of any enemy.
To the misbegotten, it's a false alarm.
They return to their places, grumbling incoherent words to themselves and each other. Just chuffs and snarls and growls, nothing a human, nor they for the most part, can understand. They simply go back to their activities… chopping up their victims into bite-sized pieces.
"Coast's clear."
Blaidd says at a level of nothing more than a mutter.
"Keep pace."
This new tunnel, for what it's worth, doesn't last long. After a few minutes more, it opens up suddenly, as if the whole thing had collapsed some time ago.
But it's not a dead end, it empties out into a massive room.
Blaidd and I stop at the edge, and the sight is a vile one.
"Marika on high." Blaidd utters, hunkering down.
I find myself chewing on the inside of my cheek, frowning at the view.
It seems we found the enemy. But this is an appalling number.
Yes. Yes, it is.
We stand above what could be described as a station for the sewer tunnels, a massive place where countless pipes and tunnels empty out and connect together. It's a space larger than a football field, and it looks like it was forcefully made larger.
Mounds and small hills of rubble and debris piles up on the floor, many massive pipes that would cross over the scene have been destroyed, making more space in the air. The walls are raked open to connect to other tunnels, and the ceiling has a gaping hole in it, letting trace amounts of moonlight in from the surface.
It's a big place, but it fells all too crowded.
Misbegotten, misbegotten everywhere.
Shoulder to shoulder, clumped into groups and flying about above. Chattering and chuffing between one another like a cacophony of thousands of crickets, making the floor look like it's alive as they fidget and move.
We've culled them so much these last few days, and still there's this much left. This number more than triples Morne's remaining forces, and that's only for the ones I can see.
There's Limgrave Soldiers too, segregating themselves and resting atop the rubble piles, giving the misbegotten mass wary looks.
There's still so much. So, so much.
And they are not what captures my attention; Agheel is down here too.
The hulking dragon sleeps amongst the crowd like a housecat amongst ants, growling softly to himself.
Most everything here gives him a wide berth, but he's resting around a large chair of twisted pipes atop a pile of medieval concrete and abrasive stone, where I lay my eyes upon the sight I've wanted to see.
Trey.
Darriwil.
A big and unique misbegotten with a red mane.
And an oversized Limgrave Soldier.
The four are situated amongst that makeshift throne, perfectly encapsulated in the silver moonlight. Trey and Darriwil stand quietly at attention, their helmets giving none of their emotions away. But the large soldier and the red-haired misbegotten are arguing…
I never thought I'd see a misbegotten speak anything coherent.
But even amongst this consistent chatter, I can hear their booming voices.
"You no helped us!" The misbegotten shouts, its voice underlines heavily by a gargled tone.
He sounds like an orc.
"You no bring your dragon!"
A Leonine Misbegotten.
Is he a problem?
They are like the white wolves of the misbegotten race. They are normally the alphas of a given population; he is a threat to be certain.
The large soldier speaks at a more level voice; I can't make his words out. He says something, and the Leonine stamps his foot.
"No! You are friend! But you no act like friend!"
The soldier says more words; Trey slowly shakes his head.
"Blaidd, can you make any of it out?" B
laidd shakes his head.
"Sorry mate, I can't hear a thing."
I consider Darriwil, as the supposed leaders of the two factions continue to argue.
"So, how are you gonna reach him?"
Blaidd hesitates.
"Can't think of one that doesn't involve getting roasted alive. Got any more ideas?"
I shake my head.
"Not this time, no."
If Blaidd wants to take Darriwil out… no, I can't think of a way. We could somehow make the ceiling of this whole place cave in; that could certainly dimmish these numbers. But Darriwil would be spared based on where he stands, and somehow I feel like only bad things would come if we try to make the whole center of Bellard sink into the ground.
Can you burn them all?
Even I am not capable of that. Though we now know where the enemy is. If we explain it to the warden, I am sure he will have an idea.
…Should I bother Edgar?
…
Of course I should.
Even if he hates me, even if I might be scared of him now; those aren't important.
Victory is.
I see Trey; he's right there. I can't see that silver man, but if I can at least find a way to kill that traitor, then I'd feel at least partly satisfied.
"I think we should head back."
Blaidd gives me a questionable look.
"Why?"
I meet his gaze.
"I don't think Darriwil's going anywhere. And if we coordinate with Castle Morne, I bet they'd have an idea how to attack this place."
I gesture to the masses.
"For something like this, we need numbers. Right?"
Blaidd clicks his tongue.
"Apologies if this rubs you the wrong way mate, but I'm staying here."
I cock an eyebrow, he continues.
"The fate of Bellard holds no weight on my conscience. I'll help where I can, but my only goal here to is end Darriwil. I plan to wait, see if that mutt wanders somewhere I can reach him."
He gestures behind us with his head.
"Don't worry, I can hold my own. Retrace the path, and I'm sure you can make your way out of here alone. Just follow the corpses, eh?"
…
I know why he says this things he does.
Melina made it clear enough: my selflessness is a rarity in these lands.
From what I've pieced together, the people of the Lands Between have been warring with one another for a very, very long time. Maybe hundreds of years, maybe even thousands.
I can't be sure, and everyone seems to have a different answer for how long it's been going on.
Kalé made it sound like a few decades at most, while Ranni made it to be over a millennium.
But no matter how long it's lasted, the fact it still prevails is enough to make everyone become centered in their own interests. No goodwill between those who don't share the same roots; no olive branches will be extended to others of a different faction. Ranni lives somewhere north of Limgrave, a place that probably has its own fair share of problems.
Blaidd has no need to care for this southern kingdom, he's only here with me now, because our interests aligned.
I get it.
But I still feel downcast somewhat. I hoped… maybe I wanted…
…
"What is it that you all want?"
A new voice takes me out of my thoughts, one that projects over the expansive room. It's not shouting, but the voice carries, and it brings the misbegotten racket down to mere silence.
The large soldier; he's talking.
He addresses the whole mass in front of him, speaking at such a volume that everyone can hear him clearly.
Even Agheel raises his head…
Melina stares at the dragon intently.
Agheel… You…
"What are you hoping to achieve?"
That booming voice sounds strange, like a cross between the soldiers' normal voices, and a voice from earth; one that has rarely faced hardship.
"You wanted revenge, right?"
As if the misbegotten understand him, they all chuff and snarl, pumping a fist into the air. The Leonine watches the soldier with what could only be described as an angry look, holding fast to a large sword he carries around. The big soldier crosses his arms.
"Then isn't this enough? You already brought Bellard to its knees, you made that coward Edgar hide in his little castle. You even took his daughter's life! Is that not enough?"
I grit my teeth, finding my hand resting on my greatsword's handle… only resting.
"Or do you want more!?"
The misbegotten shout at that statement.
"You do!?"
The soldier looks back at the Leonine, flashing a smug grin. He turns back, shouting like a drill sergeant.
"Do you want to kill Edgar!?"
The misbegotten roar.
"Do you want Neil's head on a stake!?"
The misbegotten roar.
"Do you want to feast upon those soldiers' flesh!? Rend them apart and devour them whole!?"
The misbegotten roar, and roar, and roar.
It sounds almost like the laughter of devils. It makes a chill go down my spine.
"Then, why are you all hiding down here!?"
"Pssst!"
"Because!" The Leonine starts, but the large soldier cuts him off.
"Why are you hiding like rats!?"
"Pssst, hey!"
"Why do you group up and scurry away like dogs!?"
"Yoohooo! Over here!"
"Why do you run away from Morne with your tails between your legs!?"
"Oi kid, I know you can hear me. Hey!"
Who the heck is talking?
I look to trace the sound…
There's a man tied up on the ceiling.
…
What the…
He hangs down like a chandelier, or a cut of meat I saw occasionally in the kitchens of Morne. All tied up and left swinging around up there, and he's looking directly at me…
I know that face.
Bald head, shoddy armor, and a smug grin far too carefree for this world.
…Patches?
When I finally look at him, Patches almost breathes out a sigh of relief. Blaidd looks too, and the wolfman is most definitely confused.
"By the stars, why were you just ignoring me? Not very nice if I give my three pieces about it."
He's turning about slowly, and he has to occasionally flip his head around to look at us again whenever the rest of his body turns away.
"Still, what are the chances we meet again? All the way down here? Isn't that just the strangest thing?"
The other highwaymen he was with are nowhere to be seen, and it looks like he was beat senseless before he was left to hang up here. I haven't even said a word to him yet, but it's like he's carrying the conversation all on his own.
"Well, I'd love to catch up, but as you can see, I'm a little stuck at the moment. Couldn't care to lend me a hand, would ya? I'll be sure to make it worth your while."
"Who's the Jester?"
Blaidd asks, Patches gives him a confused look.
"By the demigods, did that wolf just talk?" He turns his head to look at us again. "Never thought I'd see the day. I know of talking snakes, but this is another thing entirely."
I don't know why he's here… but it's not my problem.
"Just ignore him." I mutter to Blaidd.
Patches looks almost appalled.
"The cold shoulder? Never thought you had it in you! I reckoned we were best buds by now."
I put a finger to my mouth.
"Shut it, would you? You trying to get us found out?"
He seems to think about that, grinning way too much to himself.
This guy never plays along with the situation at hand; Kalé calling him "ridiculous" was an accurate description. The large soldier is currently stirring up his forces, and this is supposed to be a big moment. But Patches doesn't really seem to care.
"Assemble yourselves, brutes!"
The large soldier bellows, holding a closed fist into the air.
"Tomorrow, we end this! Once and for all!"
The noise is loud enough to drown out whatever Patches was about to say next, and I can't her him after that.
No.
It's all I could think, all I could feel. They'll attack in force, tomorrow?
So soon?
Will Agheel be there too?
Will that Leonine attack as well?
Will Trey?
It would take Agheel only a moment to destroy the wall without that gate; a force this large would take only minutes to overthrow Morne. Somehow, I can feel it: Morne won't survive this time.
"That's bad news." Blaidd surmises, stroking his chin.
It's terrible news.
Nobody would've known.
We would've been wiped out without warning. Morne would fall without so much as a peep.
"I need to warn them."
That's all I say, before a loud sneeze makes this congregation of thousands fall silent.
"ACHOOOOOO!"
The chuffing and snarls stop, the roar dies down.
An untold number of faces turn our way, staring Patches down.
He sniffles, looking almost embarrassed.
"Sorry!" He shouts to the congregation. "The dust! You know how it is!"
The shock overwhelms me.
I'm left dumbstruck, staring Patches down. Everyone and everything looks at him, and by extension, they look at me.
Patches, the coward that sought the large soldier out to cut a deal.
Blaidd, the legendary wolfman who's an enemy to all.
And the Tarnished with Roard's spear, with a golden light hovering at his side.
Fingers point, shouts rise. Darriwil disappears in an instant, Agheel rises to his monstrous height. Trey lets out an aggravated shout of surprise, and the Leonine gives me a particularly murderous look.
But the large soldier smiles, staring me down.
He mutters something to himself; I'm so far away that I can neither hear his voice nor read his lips. But I can almost tell what he says; I can feel it.
"Found you, Tarnished."
That simple-minded fool!
"Time to go Lance!" Blaidd barks.
The large soldier bellows, pointing toward us, like a general ready to unleash the might of their navy upon a lone island that stands in their way.
"Kill them!"
Agheel lets out a shrieking roar, the living carpet of misbegotten and soldiers animates and practically floods toward us.
The flying misbegotten and Limgrave crossbowmen fire their volleys; Patches scrunches up to try and shield himself.
I'm already running, and Blaidd moves so fast that I can barely keep up.
We bolt through the tunnel, practically leap down the hole we made, and we run, run as fast as we are able.
The tsunami is right on our tail.
Torrent!
Right!
I don't know how it works, but I press my lips onto the hole in my ring, and a crisp whistle answers me.
With a lurch, I'm sent into the air, as an equine body practically forms into existence beneath me. It expands, sprouts four legs, and gallops, nearly making me fall off from the inertia.
I hold fast to Torrent's neck, as the spectral steed breys, picking up the pace.
Blaidd somewhat keeps pace with me; he nearly barks laughter.
"Ah! I was wondering where you were Torrent!"
The steed tilts his head Blaidd's way, snorting. Blaidd gives me an excited look.
"Seems Lady Ranni did meet with you after all!"
…
How does he?
Blaidd turns a sharp corner, breaking off from me.
"Wait!"
Without needing to even tell Torrent, he grinds to a halt. Like we're on the same wavelength, or something. But It's not what I'm thinking about.
"Where are you going!?"
His voices comes as an echo, which drowns out until it's nothing more than a whisper.
"Get out of here! I'll see what I can do! Meet you back up topside, right!?"
He must still be thinking about Darriwil. That... or...
Torrent looks back at me; I can hear the misbegotten drawing closer. They've already made it to the tunnel where we watched them just moments ago, they'll be here soon.
Do not worry about him. I am sure he can handle himself.
We need to warn the warden, as soon as we are able.
I rub Torrent's broad neck, patting it.
"Alright." I say reluctantly. "Let's go."
I still want to ask Blaidd about the silver man; I know we'll need him if I want Morne to survive. It's not like I expect anyone can kill him, and I'm sure he can handle himself…
Even so.
As if he understands me, Torrent breaks into a gallop, carrying me along for the ride.
We go right, we go left. Melina gives me the directions, and I only need to think about the turn for Torrent to get the idea.
Maybe he can hear my thoughts too, maybe any spirit in my light can. I can't be sure. But I don't need to yank Torrent's reigns to turn or kick him in the side to speed up like the cowboys in movies do.
It's like he's an extension of me, acting as if he were my own legs that go where I want them to go.
It gets to the extent that I find myself able to let go of his neck, sitting somewhat properly on the saddle with his reigns in my hand. It's still a new experience, and I feel like I'd fall off if I so much as look left or right. But maybe I'm just getting used to it; that or it came naturally.
Look out!
Huh?
We pass through an intersection, a larger tunnel spans out to my right and left. Nothing looks out of ordinary, expect…
Agheel's head, to my left, in the shadows.
I get only a glimpse, before that large maw opens wide, and blinding light erupts out.
Fire, horrible amounts of fire.
It engulfs the tunnel, devours the oxygen, and incinerates everything lying idly on the ground to ash.
Torrent makes it to the other side, just before the tunnel behind us becomes a wall of searing hot flames, missing his tail by an inch.
Torrent breys angrily, picking up the pace.
Wind blasts me in the face as air rushes by, filling up the vacuum the fire created.
We pass through another intersection, and the flames comes again.
And again. And again, closer than ever before.
Agheel claws at the ground, forcing himself through a tunnel parallel to ours, vomiting flames down each intersecting path, shrieking roars that attack my ears and make my vision double.
Holy crap. Holy crap Holy crap.
No. No No. No!
Faster!
Lance, we need to go faster!
Torrent understands my intentions, I've come to realize that, but I shout nonetheless, whipping the reins hard enough to make them crack.
"Yah!" I shout.
...
It feels like I get punched, by a massive fist made of air.
...
Like I just got hit by a shockwave head-on.
With a lurch, Torrent rockets forward. Faster than the Sentinel atop their Graceborn, faster than Roard's charge. Faster than an arrow shot from a bow; he becomes like torrential wind itself.
It feels like I just stuck my entire body out the window while we're going 70 down the interstate.
At this speed, I'd only need to hold my sword out, and I'd probably be able to take a limb off.
This is a ludicrous speed.
We leave Agheel in the dust; we go nearly halfway up the round wall when we swerve around a left turn.
I see Agheel down the hall just for a split second as we pass by in front of him; he only gets a roar off before he's gone, wiped away by the blurring walls of stone.
But something about his eyes; something was off about that hue. That moment, out on that lake, with the rain pouring down and thunder rolling over the scene. Agheel's head, bathed in the light of his own fire; that image is burned into my head.
His eyes are different now, clouded, with an almost violet-crimson hue. And the tunnel, too small for him to comfortably fit through. His wings were tearing up the walls, sending cracks along the ceiling as his arched back dug into it.
Mindlessly and unendingly hunting me down, without an air of hesitation for his own safety.
Like a zombie.
He's long past now; we're winding into the outer tunnels of the sewers.
Agheel won't be able to follow us here.
Torrent makes the trip Blaidd and I took an hour trekking in just under 5 minutes, bringing us to the entrance, or rather the exit, of the sewer system underneath Morne's southern wall.
Soldiers posted there are surprised to see me back so early, far more surprised to see me riding a horse out that they don't remember me bringing in.
I don't stop to talk, I carry on by, making for Morne's front gate.
Torrent takes us around Morne's outer wall in a counterclockwise manner, galloping across the wooden docks of the quiet harbor in the dead of night.
And as we went, Melina started surmising with me.
You saw it too, did you not?
Agheel?
Yes.
Was he undead or something? He wasn't his usual self.
I really don't know what I'm talking about, but Agheel never went after me after he defeated the Sentinel. The fact he caught up to us in the sewers, where it smells and the paths wind every which way; he must know my scent.
Then he easily could've hunted me down back in Limgrave; I was an easy enough target then.
I guess, from what I saw, he really only serves his own interests.
And I can't see why he'd ally with that large soldier and the misbegotten; Kalé even told me he never leaves his lake.
So why's he this far south in the first place.
It is a spell. A powerful one at that.
What type of spell does that?
Something that can force someone to do things? Sounds horrible.
It should not be possible for such a large creature, not without an implement.
Implement?
Yes. His runes were acting strange, as if they were not his own. They draw like a web through his body, entangling him and refusing to grant him his own movement.
And that web all centers to a point on the left side of his neck, behind his frills. Bewitching branches are capable of it, but not for a being of this size. I believe there is something else controlling Agheel, and it has been stuck in there.
We reach Morne's front gate, darting through the ramparts.
A few soldiers man them, and they shout to me, asking where I've been.
The decision to go with Blaidd was mine alone, of course they wouldn't know yet.
Drew does, and a few others, but I guess word hasn't quite spread.
I shout out to them, never stopping.
"Get the soldiers together!" I pass them. "It's urgent!"
I don't know if they'll listen to me, I'll understand if they don't.
But they need to know.
When we reach the courtyard, dead in front of the keep, I hop off Torrent, patting his neck as I jog by.
"Thanks."
He snorts, glows a cyan blue, and de-materializes, returning to my ring like it's his home.
"What's the rush Tarnished?" One soldier asks, giving the area Torrent disappeared from a double-take.
"What goin' on?" Another inquires.
"Tomorrow." Is all I mutter.
With a thud, I slam into the keep's front doors, shoving them open. Time is short, the enemy is large. If the past few days were simple probes at our defenses, then tomorrow is the full invasion force.
They need to know.
Those Irina loved will not die.
Not while I can help it.
He needs to know.
I breathe in deep, before shouting louder than I ever had before, straining my vocal cords and bellowing loud enough that the chandeliers of the mess hall shake.
"EDGAR!"
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