It was faint, a needle that pierced the shroud of silence that had settled over them. From there, it only grew, building to a searing screech of pure terror that ripped that comforting blanket asunder. Gooseflesh trailed down the back of Helbram’s neck as his eyes snapped open, the sudden jerk of his awakening triggering the fire that lanced up his arms from his cuffs. He winced, but ignored the pain and stood up. His companions stirred just as quickly, and though there was an initial confusion as the dregs of their stupor left them, within moments they all recognized what was happening.
The scream was followed by the roar of beasts, their cadence chaotic, intensity filled with an anger that was not their own. Behind it sat the seething rage of the Parents, but their presence was only mental, and he could not hear their voices among the animals that had triggered such fear
None stood outside of their cell, and were it not for the noises of chaos outside it would have seemed unchanged from the previous day. Helbram walked up to the bars and gave them a slight shake, careful to not let his cuffs dig further into his wrists. The bars did not move, their stone borders showing no signs of wear and tear.
“Sturdy make,” Helbram said. He tried to keep his voice calm, but there was a slight tremble to it that betrayed his need for haste.
Leaf went a step further and kicked the door of the cell, rattling it only slightly.
“Gods dammit!” Leaf spat, he clenched his jaw and said nothing else, but his eyes remained searching.
“Elly, you said your master trained you using sealing cuffs, correct?” Helbram asked the Weaver, “Is it possible for you to construct a spell under that kind of duress?”
Elly shook her head, “I could channel Aether to an extent, but I am afraid that weaving a spell is another thing entirely.”
“Dammit,” Helbram muttered under his breath.
“I hear someone at the stairs,” Jahora said. The small mage was peering through the bars, head angled in an awkward angle to get sight of the jail’s entrance.
The rushed knocking of footsteps soon entered his own ears, and the building tension in his chest released when he saw Mary appear in front of them, only to be replaced by concern as he saw her eyes widened in panic, breaths uncontrollable. Still, despite her unkempt state she remained controlled enough to reach for the keys across their cell and started to try them on the cell’s lock.
“They were so many,” she said, her voice directed to no one, “they tried to hold them at the gate but the guard were overwhelmed…”
A click broke her speech, and she swung the unlocked door open before working on their cuffs, starting with Jahora.
“I couldn’t find Marcus or Sophia,” she continued, “Gods, there is so much-”
Another click, and as Jahora’s hands were freed she clasped them around Mary’s face.
“Steady now,” she said in a soft tone, “deep breaths. We’ll take care of things.” Aether flowed through the Thaumaturge, and a gentle blue light washed over Mary. The tavernkeep’s posture relaxed soon after, and though worry was still on her face, her gaze was focused, lips pressed thin in determination.
The two women shared a nod before releasing everyone else from their cuffs.
Helbram rubbed his wrists, grateful that the pain had already started to fade, “Marcus and Sophia are being kept somewhere else,” he told Mary, “They were not in the battle.”
He was about to tell her that the words came from Geren, and thus not wholly reliable, but the look of relief on Mary’s face made him pause. He could only hope that the stoic mage spoke true.
“I didn’t believe anything they were saying about you,” Mary said in a guilty tone, “but no one would listen to me and they had the place under such guard that…”
“It is fine,” Helbram said in a gentle tone, “what matters is that you came now,” he and his party nodded at each other, “We will take it from here.”
To their luck, their equipment was kept close by in the guard room, and with the assistance of his companions he was able to strap on his armor quickly.
“Have the Trolls themselves shown up?” Helbram asked Mary.
She shook her head, “Only a horde of animals. They are still holding most of them at the gate but many have made it inside the town.”
“Understood,” He flexed his hand out and reached out to the presence of his spear in his mind. The spear appeared in his hand with a flash of purple light, startling Mary for a moment. Leaf did a similar movement to summon his bow.
“We will need to clear out the town first,” Helbram said, “Then we will focus on finding Marcus and Sophia. Gods willing, the townsfolk will be able to reorganize before the Trolls arrive.”
“What about me?” Mary asked, “I want to help.”
“You will stay with us,” Helbram said, “If we run into any wounded we will have to rely on you to guide them to safety,” he placed his helmet on, keeping the visor up as he looked her in the eyes, “Just the one. The moment you get to safety you need to stay there,” he raised a hand as he noticed her about to respond, “It will not do anyone good if you get yourself injured, especially with such vicious animals about.”
Mary pressed her lips thin, but nodded.
“Good,” Helbram said. He slid his visor down over his face, taking in a deep breath and releasing it as he focused his mind.
“Is everyone ready?”
The man stumbled to the ground as the cries of his party chased after him. His sword clattered against the cobblestone road soon after, and in a blind fear he scrambled forward, not daring to look back to the beasts that could be closing in. All that remained in his head was the sound of his breaths and the singular thought that repeated over and over.
Run.
For all his time in Southsheer, its streets were alive with the usual sort of chaos that graced every growing town, but a different one had taken its place this day. Gone were the arguments of customers and vendors, the sounds of playing children and laughing townsfolk. In their place were the screams of his men, the roar of beasts that swept over them like a tide.
Their scouts had told them that the Trolls were amassing beasts, but they had sorely underestimated their number. The initial charge of the beasts was done without the assistance of their masters, but such was their quantity that it was all they could do to hold them at the gates. Still, despite their efforts, beasts still bled into the city, and he and his men were told to break from the main force to clear them out. He’d thought he’d been given a blessing, a reprieve from the growing hellscape that was the front line.
He was sorely mistaken.
The beasts moved with an unnatural coordination, with the larger, bulkier bears serving as distractions as the more agile wolves slipped out of the alleyways as ambushes, wearing away at their defenses at such a rate that his group’s number had steadily dwindled. An Awoken and a Mage were with them at first, allowing them to weather, even repel the initial ambushes, but the tide quickly changed when the Scalehounds started to emerge. They struck with an unnatural quickness despite their large size, and their scale lined hides repelled their attacks with ease. The Awoken with them managed to fell one of the beasts, but another took its spot right after, sinking its jaws into the Journeyman’s neck and dragging him off to an alley. No screams followed, and instead utter stillness draped over them, signaling a growing tremble amongst the group as dread started to creep into their hearts.
Soon after, they were set upon again by another group, and tried as the Mage might to hold back the assault with a shield, without the aid of the Awoken and the addition of more Scalehounds the group fractured. Those that were not engaged in combat fled, the man amongst the first to do so and bringing him to his current situation.
His breathing broke down into heaving as he continued his sprint, almost drowning out the rapidly approaching steps from behind. A snarl followed, and the man ducked just in time to avoid the charge at his back. He rolled, trying to recover to his feet with his momentum, but stopped as his face almost crashed into a scaled hide. His heart stopped as the Scalehound turned around, a growl rumbling in its throat. He could feel its breath on his face, the flaring of its nostrils as it bore its fangs at him. Its eyes were bloodshot, red veins clearly visible across its sclera and feeding into irises that flared with a scarlet light.
Its maw opened, and the man whimpered, closing his eyes as the Scalehound’s jaws snapped forward.
The bite never came, and instead was replaced by a howl of pain as the man felt something rush by him. A crash followed, and he could only muster up the courage to open his eyes when silence finally settled over him.
The Scalehound was no longer in front of him, and instead lay off the side laying on its flank. A spear was lodged into its stomach, a man in armor gripping the weapon firmly as he kept the still breathing beast in place. The armored man moved one of his hands from the spear and held it out, materializing a sword with a distinct scaled pattern across its profile as purple light washed away from the blade. Keeping the beast pinned with the spear, the warrior stabbed the Scalehound in its exposed throat, and it fell still.
Shock had dulled the man’s thoughts to such an extent that it was only after the warrior pulled his weapons from the beast that the man realized who it was. He had berated the armored man just the day before, called him a coward in front of a crowd that looked upon the warrior with hate. He remembered the sick laugh the armored man made in response, the twisted smile upon his face, now hidden behind the visor of his full helm. The man remembered spitting on the warrior as they dragged him off to his cell, fully believing that he deserved such a fate for dooming them all.
Yet there the warrior stood, a Scalehound felled at his feet.
“Helbram!” Another voice shouted, belonging to a half-elf that ran to the warrior’s side. His bow was drawn, and the archer motioned his head to the street behind the fleeing man.
The armored man, Helbram, looked down the street and rushed forward, sheathing his sword at his side and gripping the spear with both hands.
“Draw their attention Leaf!” he yelled, “Jahora, get ready to gather them together! Elly, with me!”
Two women emerged from a nearby alleyway, a gnome and a dusk elf. The smaller woman remained at the archer’s side, green Aether gathering around her as her robes started to billow. A similar energy wrapped around the other woman, glowing across her pitch black skin as she caught up with Helbram, her movements almost a blur as she skipped across the ground, wind billowing around her. A red aura flared around Leaf, gathering at his arrow as he pulled it back. The man’s eyes followed after the arrow as the archer loosed it, sending a red streak through the air. The arrow flew past Helbram and Elly , striking a bear that was on top of one of the man’s companions, claws ready to cleave into them. The arrow landed with enough force to stagger the creature, and with a snarl the bear ignored the drowned man at its feet and ran down the street, directly towards Elly and Helbram. More arrows followed, leaving behind further streaks of red as they struck at the creatures that had pinned the man’s companions down. Two wolves fell still as arrows pierced their sides, but the remaining two and a Scalehound were only wounded, but it was enough to draw them towards the charging duo.
The man glanced at the remnants of his party. Some of them were still moving, rolling in pain from their wounds, but the others were still, the light of their still open eyes faded as their vacant expression drove another spike of despair into his heart.
Elly and Helbram continued to charge forward, with the lithe spellcaster swapping the green Aether around her with yellow energy, her graceful skips across the paved road transitioned to a heavy-stepped run, keeping her apace with the armored man at her side. The beasts themselves were staggered in terms of speed, with the Scalehound taking the van of their impromptu formation, followed by the wolves and then the bear. As the beasts drew closer, Elly fell back, the yellow Aether around her body gathering around the hand that had a Circle around its wrist. Helbram charged directly at the Scalehound, and neither beast nor man showed no signs of slowing. As the two closed in on one another, the beast leaped, its jaws open and ready to wrap around the warrior’s head. Helbram stooped low, hefting his spear up as he collided with the beast, driving the spear into the beast’s exposed belly as they collided.
The warrior’s charge slowed as the Scalehound’s weight fell upon him, but with a roar Helbram pushed forward, carrying the beast on his spear and throwing it back towards the rest of the oncoming beasts.
“Jahora! Now!” He yelled as the spear left his hands.
Air pulsed from the small spellcaster, sending a gale that washed over the stunned onlooker and towards the beasts. Wisps of green Aether drifted with the wind, gathering between the bear and the wolves. When Helbram threw the Scalehound back, the beast fell parallel with the wolves, and at that moment the spell was triggered. A burst of green Aether surged into the sky, streaking along twisted winds that wrapped around the beasts, drawing them into the center of the cyclone that lifted them from their feet. The twister only lasted for a second, but it was enough to slam the beasts together in a pile. Elly rushed forwards soon after, slamming her Aether infused hand into the ground.
Yellow energy burst from her hand and surged through the ground until it was directly under the beasts. It released from the earth in the form of jagged stone spikes, piercing into the gathered beasts with enough force that it lifted them all from the ground. The beasts all fell still as they were suspended in the air, and fell to the ground in heaps as the spikes crumbled to dust. Helbram had his sword drawn and approached the fallen creatures with a cautious pace, holding it out as he pulled his spear free from the Scalehound’s corpse. The armored man examined the tip of the weapon before returning his sword back to its sheath.
Leaf and Jahora brushed past the man, and he noticed another woman emerge from the alleyway after them. He recognized her as the tavernkeep from the Salty Breeze, Mary, and he could piece together how the group got free. The group gathered down the street, speaking to each other in tones that he could not hear from his distance. They quickly dispersed soon after, tending to the fallen men beyond. Helbram stood alone, and looked back to the man before approaching him.
The warrior’s spear rested against his shoulder, but even still the man could not help but flinch back from him out of instinct. He remained on the ground, fear having taken the strength from his legs. Helbram continued to approach, his face unreadable behind his visor, but the man could only assume the worst. He’d been told that the warrior was an opportunist, assumed him to be a coward that chased after glory, and indeed Helbram’s own actions the day before all but confirmed that to the man. Yet, a coward would not charge at a Scalehound so brazenly, an opportunist would not stop to treat fallen men. Confusion and conflict paralyzed the man as Helbram approached, and still he did not know what to think as the armored warrior held a hand out to him.
“What is your name?” Helbram asked, his voice firm, but lacking any spite in its tone.
The man hesitated, but grabbed the outstretched hand. He was pulled to his feet, and thankfully his legs found strength when they were under him.
“...Roger,” the man said, unsure of what else to say.
Helbram nodded, “We need your help, Roger,” he let go of his hand and pointed his spear back to the wounded men, “You and Mary need to take the wounded men to shelter, they will be in danger if they remain out here.”
Leaf, in the distance, helped one of the men to his feet and let Mary slip under his shoulder, keeping the man up as the archer looked towards the other men.
“Are you able to do that?” Helbram asked.
Roger’s head snapped back to Helbram, “Yes, yes I can do that.”
“Good, we must make haste.”
The warrior turned to go towards the men.
“I called you a coward, cursed you in front of everyone,” Roger said in a weak tone.
Helbram stopped and looked back at him, “That you did.”
“I-”
“There will be time for that later,” Helbram interjected, “what matters now is what is in front of us,” again, it was a firm tone, but Roger could hear no spite or malice behind it.
Roger bit his lip, his conscience unsettled, but he nodded and followed after Helbram.
When they made it back to Helbram’s party they had already gotten most of the injured to their feet. Only a few of the men from Roger’s party survived, and their conditions were nowhere near battle ready. The rest including the Mage lay on the ground, still. Their vacant, unblinking eyes were now closed, but their mangled remains still brought bile to the back of his throat. Guilty gnawed at Roger’s chest, but Helbram was right, it was not the time to dwell on such things.
That would have to come later.
Helbram motioned towards him as he approached his party, “Roger will assist you with getting these men to the shelter,” he said to Mary.
The tavernkeep nodded and started to move down the street, supporting the man on her shoulder the best she could. A few of the wounded limped after her, and Roger slipped under the worst of the men’s arm, giving him as much support as he could. The man said nothing to him, and Roger remained silent as well. He had no place to offer any conciliatory words, not after he had abandoned them just moments before.
Helbram and his party walked ahead of the wounded men, keeping an eye out for any other beasts as they made their way to the square. A steady stream of beasts rushed them, but the four adventurers dispatched the creatures with a practiced efficiency. Wolves, bears, and Scalehounds alike fell under the constant tempo of Leaf’s arrows, Jahora and Elly’s spells, and Helbram’s spear. Seeing an Awoken and Mages felling such beasts with efficiency was not so surprising, but the fact that Helbram kept pace with the rest of his party, despite not even a shred of any energy flowing through his body, kept the wounded men in stunned silence until they got to the town square.
A tall building next to the Maiden’s Kiss had been designated as the emergency shelter during the assault, which is where both Mary and Roger led the wounded men towards. It belonged to the town’s alchemist, an odd sort that had no windows by which to display her goods, but it was due to that that the town designated the building as the shelter, much to the shopkeep’s chagrin. Helbram’s party remained vigilant, but the armored man himself kept looking in the direction of Southsheer’s front gate.
“The moment we get them to safety, we need to break for the main gate,” Helbram told his party, “Thankfully the Parents have not -”
A roar stopped the man’s words, sending forth a wave of raw bloodlust that washed over them all. Rage stopped Roger’s breath at his throat, and he fell to his knees as anger pressed down upon him and the wounded man on his shoulder. Mary was suffering the same, but despite such pressure she pressed on, urging the man on her shoulder forward.
Helbram and his companions remained upright, but Roger could see their knees trembling as they tried to not buckle from the pressure. Eventually, the worst of the rage passed, and Roger found himself able to move again. Helbram turned back to Mary right after.
“Get them inside, we must break for the main-”
His words were once again interrupted as another force surged from through the air. No roar preceded this wave of energy, but Roger felt it coming from the direction of the Shrine. As he looked towards it, he saw that silver light was bleeding into the darkened sky as a haze. While he was not brought to his knees, Roger could not help but pause in awe of the sight, the raw power that bled from the Shrine.
A primal scream cut through the stillness brought upon by the silver light, and rage clashed with energy from the shrine, the resulting collision of unseen forces delivering a burst of pale Aether that washed over them. Roger managed to stay upright, but as the magic swept over him an image was forced into his mind. That of a young man, his hands bloodied as he wept in his father’s arms. The image left him soon after, but a profound sadness had stabbed at his heart in its wake.
“Shite,” Leaf spat, “give us a godsdammed break!”
“Dammit, has Marjorie pulled the Sword?!” Helbram shook his head and took in a deep breath, calming the tremors that wracked through his body, “Change of plans, there is much we need to cover in a short time.”
His party nodded at him, waiting for instructions.
“Jahora, Leaf, head towards the main gate and provide as much support as possible,” he ordered, “we need to keep the Parents at bay for as long as we can. Elly, I need you to find Sophia and Marcus. The moment that you find them, take Sophia to the front line. They will need her healing magic.”
They all shared a grim look, and split up, with Jahora and Leaf sprinting towards the main gate while Elly glanced around before heading off towards Cliffside. Helbram remained still.
“Where will you go?” Roger asked him.
The armored man turned around, starting off towards the silver light that bled into the sky.
“The Shrine.”
Author's Note: Apologies for the week delay! It has been pretty hectic around me as of late and finding some time to write consistently has been difficult.
We're in the action now, and things are about to come to a head. Expect a lot more battle scenes coming up, probably splitting perspectives a bit so we can focus on each of the tasks the Party is trying to do. Helbram's will most likely be last, but I haven't quite determined who we're gonna follow in the upcoming chapter. I want to take the appropriate amount of time for each task too and not rush through them, so expect them to be fairly detailed. Do, however, tell me if things are too detailed or dragging too much. While I have intentions I don’t want things to be boring to read or confusing, so any feedback in that department will always help me out.
Till next time, have yourselves a wonderful day! :)
It was faint, a needle that pierced the shroud of silence that had settled over them. From there, it only grew, building to a searing screech of pure terror that ripped that comforting blanket asunder. Gooseflesh trailed down the back of Helbram’s neck as his eyes snapped open, the sudden jerk of his awakening triggering the fire that lanced up his arms from his cuffs. He winced, but ignored the pain and stood up. His companions stirred just as quickly, and though there was an initial confusion as the dregs of their stupor left them, within moments they all recognized what was happening.
The scream was followed by the roar of beasts, their cadence chaotic, intensity filled with an anger that was not their own. Behind it sat the seething rage of the Parents, but their presence was only mental, and he could not hear their voices among the animals that had triggered such fear
None stood outside of their cell, and were it not for the noises of chaos outside it would have seemed unchanged from the previous day. Helbram walked up to the bars and gave them a slight shake, careful to not let his cuffs dig further into his wrists. The bars did not move, their stone borders showing no signs of wear and tear.
“Sturdy make,” Helbram said. He tried to keep his voice calm, but there was a slight tremble to it that betrayed his need for haste.
Leaf went a step further and kicked the door of the cell, rattling it only slightly.
“Gods dammit!” Leaf spat, he clenched his jaw and said nothing else, but his eyes remained searching.
“Elly, you said your master trained you using sealing cuffs, correct?” Helbram asked the Weaver, “Is it possible for you to construct a spell under that kind of duress?”
Elly shook her head, “I could channel Aether to an extent, but I am afraid that weaving a spell is another thing entirely.”
“Dammit,” Helbram muttered under his breath.
“I hear someone at the stairs,” Jahora said. The small mage was peering through the bars, head angled in an awkward angle to get sight of the jail’s entrance.
The rushed knocking of footsteps soon entered his own ears, and the building tension in his chest released when he saw Mary appear in front of them, only to be replaced by concern as he saw her eyes widened in panic, breaths uncontrollable. Still, despite her unkempt state she remained controlled enough to reach for the keys across their cell and started to try them on the cell’s lock.
“They were so many,” she said, her voice directed to no one, “they tried to hold them at the gate but the guard were overwhelmed…”
A click broke her speech, and she swung the unlocked door open before working on their cuffs, starting with Jahora.
“I couldn’t find Marcus or Sophia,” she continued, “Gods, there is so much-”
Another click, and as Jahora’s hands were freed she clasped them around Mary’s face.
“Steady now,” she said in a soft tone, “deep breaths. We’ll take care of things.” Aether flowed through the Thaumaturge, and a gentle blue light washed over Mary. The tavernkeep’s posture relaxed soon after, and though worry was still on her face, her gaze was focused, lips pressed thin in determination.
The two women shared a nod before releasing everyone else from their cuffs.
Helbram rubbed his wrists, grateful that the pain had already started to fade, “Marcus and Sophia are being kept somewhere else,” he told Mary, “They were not in the battle.”
He was about to tell her that the words came from Geren, and thus not wholly reliable, but the look of relief on Mary’s face made him pause. He could only hope that the stoic mage spoke true.
“I didn’t believe anything they were saying about you,” Mary said in a guilty tone, “but no one would listen to me and they had the place under such guard that…”
“It is fine,” Helbram said in a gentle tone, “what matters is that you came now,” he and his party nodded at each other, “We will take it from here.”
To their luck, their equipment was kept close by in the guard room, and with the assistance of his companions he was able to strap on his armor quickly.
“Have the Trolls themselves shown up?” Helbram asked Mary.
She shook her head, “Only a horde of animals. They are still holding most of them at the gate but many have made it inside the town.”
“Understood,” He flexed his hand out and reached out to the presence of his spear in his mind. The spear appeared in his hand with a flash of purple light, startling Mary for a moment. Leaf did a similar movement to summon his bow.
“We will need to clear out the town first,” Helbram said, “Then we will focus on finding Marcus and Sophia. Gods willing, the townsfolk will be able to reorganize before the Trolls arrive.”
“What about me?” Mary asked, “I want to help.”
“You will stay with us,” Helbram said, “If we run into any wounded we will have to rely on you to guide them to safety,” he placed his helmet on, keeping the visor up as he looked her in the eyes, “Just the one. The moment you get to safety you need to stay there,” he raised a hand as he noticed her about to respond, “It will not do anyone good if you get yourself injured, especially with such vicious animals about.”
Mary pressed her lips thin, but nodded.
“Good,” Helbram said. He slid his visor down over his face, taking in a deep breath and releasing it as he focused his mind.
“Is everyone ready?”
The man stumbled to the ground as the cries of his party chased after him. His sword clattered against the cobblestone road soon after, and in a blind fear he scrambled forward, not daring to look back to the beasts that could be closing in. All that remained in his head was the sound of his breaths and the singular thought that repeated over and over.
Run.
For all his time in Southsheer, its streets were alive with the usual sort of chaos that graced every growing town, but a different one had taken its place this day. Gone were the arguments of customers and vendors, the sounds of playing children and laughing townsfolk. In their place were the screams of his men, the roar of beasts that swept over them like a tide.
Their scouts had told them that the Trolls were amassing beasts, but they had sorely underestimated their number. The initial charge of the beasts was done without the assistance of their masters, but such was their quantity that it was all they could do to hold them at the gates. Still, despite their efforts, beasts still bled into the city, and he and his men were told to break from the main force to clear them out. He’d thought he’d been given a blessing, a reprieve from the growing hellscape that was the front line.
He was sorely mistaken.
The beasts moved with an unnatural coordination, with the larger, bulkier bears serving as distractions as the more agile wolves slipped out of the alleyways as ambushes, wearing away at their defenses at such a rate that his group’s number had steadily dwindled. An Awoken and a Mage were with them at first, allowing them to weather, even repel the initial ambushes, but the tide quickly changed when the Scalehounds started to emerge. They struck with an unnatural quickness despite their large size, and their scale lined hides repelled their attacks with ease. The Awoken with them managed to fell one of the beasts, but another took its spot right after, sinking its jaws into the Journeyman’s neck and dragging him off to an alley. No screams followed, and instead utter stillness draped over them, signaling a growing tremble amongst the group as dread started to creep into their hearts.
Soon after, they were set upon again by another group, and tried as the Mage might to hold back the assault with a shield, without the aid of the Awoken and the addition of more Scalehounds the group fractured. Those that were not engaged in combat fled, the man amongst the first to do so and bringing him to his current situation.
His breathing broke down into heaving as he continued his sprint, almost drowning out the rapidly approaching steps from behind. A snarl followed, and the man ducked just in time to avoid the charge at his back. He rolled, trying to recover to his feet with his momentum, but stopped as his face almost crashed into a scaled hide. His heart stopped as the Scalehound turned around, a growl rumbling in its throat. He could feel its breath on his face, the flaring of its nostrils as it bore its fangs at him. Its eyes were bloodshot, red veins clearly visible across its sclera and feeding into irises that flared with a scarlet light.
Its maw opened, and the man whimpered, closing his eyes as the Scalehound’s jaws snapped forward.
The bite never came, and instead was replaced by a howl of pain as the man felt something rush by him. A crash followed, and he could only muster up the courage to open his eyes when silence finally settled over him.
The Scalehound was no longer in front of him, and instead lay off the side laying on its flank. A spear was lodged into its stomach, a man in armor gripping the weapon firmly as he kept the still breathing beast in place. The armored man moved one of his hands from the spear and held it out, materializing a sword with a distinct scaled pattern across its profile as purple light washed away from the blade. Keeping the beast pinned with the spear, the warrior stabbed the Scalehound in its exposed throat, and it fell still.
Shock had dulled the man’s thoughts to such an extent that it was only after the warrior pulled his weapons from the beast that the man realized who it was. He had berated the armored man just the day before, called him a coward in front of a crowd that looked upon the warrior with hate. He remembered the sick laugh the armored man made in response, the twisted smile upon his face, now hidden behind the visor of his full helm. The man remembered spitting on the warrior as they dragged him off to his cell, fully believing that he deserved such a fate for dooming them all.
Yet there the warrior stood, a Scalehound felled at his feet.
“Helbram!” Another voice shouted, belonging to a half-elf that ran to the warrior’s side. His bow was drawn, and the archer motioned his head to the street behind the fleeing man.
The armored man, Helbram, looked down the street and rushed forward, sheathing his sword at his side and gripping the spear with both hands.
“Draw their attention Leaf!” he yelled, “Jahora, get ready to gather them together! Elly, with me!”
Two women emerged from a nearby alleyway, a gnome and a dusk elf. The smaller woman remained at the archer’s side, green Aether gathering around her as her robes started to billow. A similar energy wrapped around the other woman, glowing across her pitch black skin as she caught up with Helbram, her movements almost a blur as she skipped across the ground, wind billowing around her. A red aura flared around Leaf, gathering at his arrow as he pulled it back. The man’s eyes followed after the arrow as the archer loosed it, sending a red streak through the air. The arrow flew past Helbram and Elly , striking a bear that was on top of one of the man’s companions, claws ready to cleave into them. The arrow landed with enough force to stagger the creature, and with a snarl the bear ignored the drowned man at its feet and ran down the street, directly towards Elly and Helbram. More arrows followed, leaving behind further streaks of red as they struck at the creatures that had pinned the man’s companions down. Two wolves fell still as arrows pierced their sides, but the remaining two and a Scalehound were only wounded, but it was enough to draw them towards the charging duo.
The man glanced at the remnants of his party. Some of them were still moving, rolling in pain from their wounds, but the others were still, the light of their still open eyes faded as their vacant expression drove another spike of despair into his heart.
Elly and Helbram continued to charge forward, with the lithe spellcaster swapping the green Aether around her with yellow energy, her graceful skips across the paved road transitioned to a heavy-stepped run, keeping her apace with the armored man at her side. The beasts themselves were staggered in terms of speed, with the Scalehound taking the van of their impromptu formation, followed by the wolves and then the bear. As the beasts drew closer, Elly fell back, the yellow Aether around her body gathering around the hand that had a Circle around its wrist. Helbram charged directly at the Scalehound, and neither beast nor man showed no signs of slowing. As the two closed in on one another, the beast leaped, its jaws open and ready to wrap around the warrior’s head. Helbram stooped low, hefting his spear up as he collided with the beast, driving the spear into the beast’s exposed belly as they collided.
The warrior’s charge slowed as the Scalehound’s weight fell upon him, but with a roar Helbram pushed forward, carrying the beast on his spear and throwing it back towards the rest of the oncoming beasts.
“Jahora! Now!” He yelled as the spear left his hands.
Air pulsed from the small spellcaster, sending a gale that washed over the stunned onlooker and towards the beasts. Wisps of green Aether drifted with the wind, gathering between the bear and the wolves. When Helbram threw the Scalehound back, the beast fell parallel with the wolves, and at that moment the spell was triggered. A burst of green Aether surged into the sky, streaking along twisted winds that wrapped around the beasts, drawing them into the center of the cyclone that lifted them from their feet. The twister only lasted for a second, but it was enough to slam the beasts together in a pile. Elly rushed forwards soon after, slamming her Aether infused hand into the ground.
Yellow energy burst from her hand and surged through the ground until it was directly under the beasts. It released from the earth in the form of jagged stone spikes, piercing into the gathered beasts with enough force that it lifted them all from the ground. The beasts all fell still as they were suspended in the air, and fell to the ground in heaps as the spikes crumbled to dust. Helbram had his sword drawn and approached the fallen creatures with a cautious pace, holding it out as he pulled his spear free from the Scalehound’s corpse. The armored man examined the tip of the weapon before returning his sword back to its sheath.
Leaf and Jahora brushed past the man, and he noticed another woman emerge from the alleyway after them. He recognized her as the tavernkeep from the Salty Breeze, Mary, and he could piece together how the group got free. The group gathered down the street, speaking to each other in tones that he could not hear from his distance. They quickly dispersed soon after, tending to the fallen men beyond. Helbram stood alone, and looked back to the man before approaching him.
The warrior’s spear rested against his shoulder, but even still the man could not help but flinch back from him out of instinct. He remained on the ground, fear having taken the strength from his legs. Helbram continued to approach, his face unreadable behind his visor, but the man could only assume the worst. He’d been told that the warrior was an opportunist, assumed him to be a coward that chased after glory, and indeed Helbram’s own actions the day before all but confirmed that to the man. Yet, a coward would not charge at a Scalehound so brazenly, an opportunist would not stop to treat fallen men. Confusion and conflict paralyzed the man as Helbram approached, and still he did not know what to think as the armored warrior held a hand out to him.
“What is your name?” Helbram asked, his voice firm, but lacking any spite in its tone.
The man hesitated, but grabbed the outstretched hand. He was pulled to his feet, and thankfully his legs found strength when they were under him.
“...Roger,” the man said, unsure of what else to say.
Helbram nodded, “We need your help, Roger,” he let go of his hand and pointed his spear back to the wounded men, “You and Mary need to take the wounded men to shelter, they will be in danger if they remain out here.”
Leaf, in the distance, helped one of the men to his feet and let Mary slip under his shoulder, keeping the man up as the archer looked towards the other men.
“Are you able to do that?” Helbram asked.
Roger’s head snapped back to Helbram, “Yes, yes I can do that.”
“Good, we must make haste.”
The warrior turned to go towards the men.
“I called you a coward, cursed you in front of everyone,” Roger said in a weak tone.
Helbram stopped and looked back at him, “That you did.”
“I-”
“There will be time for that later,” Helbram interjected, “what matters now is what is in front of us,” again, it was a firm tone, but Roger could hear no spite or malice behind it.
Roger bit his lip, his conscience unsettled, but he nodded and followed after Helbram.
When they made it back to Helbram’s party they had already gotten most of the injured to their feet. Only a few of the men from Roger’s party survived, and their conditions were nowhere near battle ready. The rest including the Mage lay on the ground, still. Their vacant, unblinking eyes were now closed, but their mangled remains still brought bile to the back of his throat. Guilty gnawed at Roger’s chest, but Helbram was right, it was not the time to dwell on such things.
That would have to come later.
Helbram motioned towards him as he approached his party, “Roger will assist you with getting these men to the shelter,” he said to Mary.
The tavernkeep nodded and started to move down the street, supporting the man on her shoulder the best she could. A few of the wounded limped after her, and Roger slipped under the worst of the men’s arm, giving him as much support as he could. The man said nothing to him, and Roger remained silent as well. He had no place to offer any conciliatory words, not after he had abandoned them just moments before.
Helbram and his party walked ahead of the wounded men, keeping an eye out for any other beasts as they made their way to the square. A steady stream of beasts rushed them, but the four adventurers dispatched the creatures with a practiced efficiency. Wolves, bears, and Scalehounds alike fell under the constant tempo of Leaf’s arrows, Jahora and Elly’s spells, and Helbram’s spear. Seeing an Awoken and Mages felling such beasts with efficiency was not so surprising, but the fact that Helbram kept pace with the rest of his party, despite not even a shred of any energy flowing through his body, kept the wounded men in stunned silence until they got to the town square.
A tall building next to the Maiden’s Kiss had been designated as the emergency shelter during the assault, which is where both Mary and Roger led the wounded men towards. It belonged to the town’s alchemist, an odd sort that had no windows by which to display her goods, but it was due to that that the town designated the building as the shelter, much to the shopkeep’s chagrin. Helbram’s party remained vigilant, but the armored man himself kept looking in the direction of Southsheer’s front gate.
“The moment we get them to safety, we need to break for the main gate,” Helbram told his party, “Thankfully the Parents have not -”
A roar stopped the man’s words, sending forth a wave of raw bloodlust that washed over them all. Rage stopped Roger’s breath at his throat, and he fell to his knees as anger pressed down upon him and the wounded man on his shoulder. Mary was suffering the same, but despite such pressure she pressed on, urging the man on her shoulder forward.
Helbram and his companions remained upright, but Roger could see their knees trembling as they tried to not buckle from the pressure. Eventually, the worst of the rage passed, and Roger found himself able to move again. Helbram turned back to Mary right after.
“Get them inside, we must break for the main-”
His words were once again interrupted as another force surged from through the air. No roar preceded this wave of energy, but Roger felt it coming from the direction of the Shrine. As he looked towards it, he saw that silver light was bleeding into the darkened sky as a haze. While he was not brought to his knees, Roger could not help but pause in awe of the sight, the raw power that bled from the Shrine.
A primal scream cut through the stillness brought upon by the silver light, and rage clashed with energy from the shrine, the resulting collision of unseen forces delivering a burst of pale Aether that washed over them. Roger managed to stay upright, but as the magic swept over him an image was forced into his mind. That of a young man, his hands bloodied as he wept in his father’s arms. The image left him soon after, but a profound sadness had stabbed at his heart in its wake.
“Shite,” Leaf spat, “give us a godsdammed break!”
“Dammit, has Marjorie pulled the Sword?!” Helbram shook his head and took in a deep breath, calming the tremors that wracked through his body, “Change of plans, there is much we need to cover in a short time.”
His party nodded at him, waiting for instructions.
“Jahora, Leaf, head towards the main gate and provide as much support as possible,” he ordered, “we need to keep the Parents at bay for as long as we can. Elly, I need you to find Sophia and Marcus. The moment that you find them, take Sophia to the front line. They will need her healing magic.”
They all shared a grim look, and split up, with Jahora and Leaf sprinting towards the main gate while Elly glanced around before heading off towards Cliffside. Helbram remained still.
“Where will you go?” Roger asked him.
The armored man turned around, starting off towards the silver light that bled into the sky.
“The Shrine.”
Author's Note: Apologies for the week delay! It has been pretty hectic around me as of late and finding some time to write consistently has been difficult.
We're in the action now, and things are about to come to a head. Expect a lot more battle scenes coming up, probably splitting perspectives a bit so we can focus on each of the tasks the Party is trying to do. Helbram's will most likely be last, but I haven't quite determined who we're gonna follow in the upcoming chapter. I want to take the appropriate amount of time for each task too and not rush through them, so expect them to be fairly detailed. Do, however, tell me if things are too detailed or dragging too much. While I have intentions I don’t want things to be boring to read or confusing, so any feedback in that department will always help me out.
Till next time, have yourselves a wonderful day! :)
