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Completed Chapter V: Out of Sight

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Chapter V: Out of Sight

"Prepare for unforeseen consequences."

- The G-Man (Half Life)​





General Niara Shadowleaf knelt at the foot of the steps that led to the elevated throne, keeping her head bowed down as she delivered the final report of recent events that her mistress was already aware of. She was late and afraid, so afraid. Her body was as tense as a notched arrow, her eyes on the verge of tears. She had to fight for each sentence that came out of her mouth. At least there was no one else present but the two of them.

"I am afraid that Ridge was... beyond s-saving. The Resistance took us by... by surprise. There was n-nothing that I could possibly... Not with the small force I had with me. If only..." she muttered, thinking how pathetic she must have looked to her mistress, how disappointed she must have been. But she dared not look up. She couldn't. She was frozen in place and the only thing keeping her from falling apart was the same fear that was doing this to her.

Ilhirel's tone of voice was surprisingly devoid of emotion. Analytical. "And just when you had finally picked up the trail of your previous failure..." she said, staring down at the she-elf from her throne.

Niara flinched, her muscles tensing. She panicked. To fail again so soon, she thought, finishing her mistress' sentence. Oh no, please... It took her a long time to muster the strength to continue, and Ilhirel did not interrupt her, which scared her even more. "We fought off the first wave, but there were too many. Half the local City Watch turned traitors, even Lord Brook himself took part in the uprising. I did all that I could..."

"What you did," Ilhirel interjected, "Was lose one of the most important cities of the South to a bunch of rebel upstarts. Even I know that, and I don't care about the South at all. But never mind." She waved her hand as if it were completely unimportant. "Do continue."

"I..." The interruption left the elf paralysed for a few moments. Tonight will be my end, she thought absentmindedly. "I ordered a... tactical withdrawal..."

"You fled." Ilhirel corrected her testimony.

It was becoming too much for poor Niara. The strain on her mind manifested physically, causing her to tremble, barely getting the words out. "I-I... I f-fled..." No... Please, no... "To the nearest settlement, to regroup. We regrouped, and... I sent word to you, Mistress. And decided to s-stay in the field, muster more troops. I c-called for reinforcements, gathered what I could, tried to stop the enemy's advance..."

"Oh, the enemy stopped their advance, eventually. But I doubt that it had anything to do with your efforts. More likely that they just grew tired. In fact, your feeble attempts were insufficient to even give the illusion of having helped, really, if half the assessments I received were correct." Ilhirel scolded her, yet still retaining her rational tone. The way she spoke, you'd think she didn't have a stake in the matter at all. This only scared Niara more.

"A commander with your experience should have recognized on the spot that any further skirmishes would be a complete and utter waste of time and resources. A far more logical course of action would have been to save what could be saved, return home, and plan a counter-offensive. Wouldn't you agree... General?" she called her out but didn't give her the time for further apologies. "Instead, you saw fit to... remain in the field, as you put it, for the length of a week - low on supplies, troops, morale... Sending only brief reports through your messengers... It seems to me, General," Ilhirel rose from the throne and slowly descended the stairs towards where Niara was kneeling, "That you were more afraid of coming home than facing a superior enemy force in battle. How odd."

Niara felt Ilhirel standing in front of her, just a step or two higher. She tried hard to still herself, but with no success. She visibly shivered, the same thoughts crossing her mind back and forth, again and again. She failed, two times in succession, inexcusably, on such a scale that not even her impeccable career could make up for it. "I-I-I... Forgive me. I was... afraid, so a-afraid..." was all that she managed to say.

"That's enough. Look at me, Niara." the Sorceress said.

Niara heard Ilhirel sigh, heard the ruffle of her robes betray some movement, and thought: Maker, this is it. This is how I go. Then she felt a gentle warmth on her cheek, the palm of a hand, encouraging her to raise her head and look up. She did. And there she was, the figure of the woman she loved - dressed in her usual red robes with woven golden runes, her face framed by medium-length blonde hair. A face adorned with a... smile? Niara blinked several times, deliberately, trying to clear her blurry vision. Her mistress was in front of her, down on one knee, caressing her left cheek with the palm of her hand. The look on her face was shockingly compassionate. There wasn't even a trace of the horrid execution that Niara was expecting in sight.

"Nia." Ilhirel cooed fondly, gently wiping the tears off Niara's face even as they fell. "My dear, beloved Nia." She only ever called her that in their most intimate moments. "It is I who must plead for your forgiveness."

A wave of emotions flooded Niara. Her eyes were wide in disbelief. She'd failed her mistress, and now she was hearing Ilhirel plead for forgiveness from her? She had to protest.

"Shhh. Silence." the Sorceress placed a finger over the elf maiden's lips, guessing her intentions. "True, I was angry at first. Outraged, even. You not only failed me twice, but refused to return to my side afterwards. But then my anger passed, and I realized that I was not thinking right. That I've allowed my ambitions to blind me. You see, the Amaranth is important to me - but so are you."

Niara thought her heart was about to give up, but all it did was beat faster. Her eyes filled with tears all over.

"News of you falling in the ambush reached me at the same time as those saying how you survived without a scratch, so I didn't take it seriously at first. Only later did it cross my mind just how close I came to losing you. And then I thought of you out there, risking your life again and again in a battle that you knew you could not win, just because you were too afraid of what I might do if you returned to me empty-handed once again."

"I didn't..." Niara struggled to get the words out. "I didn't want to disappoint you, M-Mistress. I did everything I could, everything -"

"Shhh, Nia." Ilhirel silenced her, lovingly stroking her white hair. "You've done enough. You are home now, safe and sound, and I'm going to take care of you. I promise."

That, at long last, sent Niara over the edge. She fell forward, collapsing in Ilhirel's embrace, finally relaxing. Finally safe. Finally happy. She breathed in Ilhirel's scent, her warmth, as if it were more important than oxygen.

But just as the Sorceress was about to continue, the gates of the throne room suddenly opened and a knight hurriedly entered, pausing at a respectful distance. "My apologies for interrupting, your Highness, but there is an... individual here, demanding to see you. We've no idea how he reached the courtyard undetected, but he claims to have vital information about the Amaranth and will only speak to you in person. What are your orders?"

Ilhirel's annoyance at the interruption subsided as soon as she heard the Amaranth mentioned. She stood up, pulling Niara up with her. "Go to my chambers and draw a bath, will you? I will be there soon, and then I'll make your every wish come true." she promised with a sultry smile.

And she did, feeling better than she'd felt in days. But still not, she knew, as good as she was going to feel before the evening was through.
 
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The outskirts of the city of Dunn, Darkvale, October 6th, year 3321


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The other side of Raziel's portal was dark, cold, and wet. Three things that the fellowship was definitely not hoping for. The company found themselves on a muddy open road. Judging by their previous location the Sun was just setting, but it was already dark here due to massive grey clouds that filled the sky, raining mercilessly.


"Bloody hell!" said the dwarf, composing a list of curses in his native tongue. "This is what ye get for trustin' an' elf!"


"Violet?" Meric asked. "Are you sure we're in the right spot?"


Violet looked helplessly around, trying to make some sense. "No, we're not. I mean, this is Darkvale - that's the city of Dunn over there, see? And the great river Dunnaev, though it's not as great this far up North." She pointed down at one end of the road. You could glimpse the faint outline of city walls following the river. "And that way," she pointed in the opposite direction, where the road disappeared into thick fog half a mile off, "Are the Darkvale Mountains, which is also where we were supposed to end up. That's where the Resistance is holed up. I have no idea why we're here instead."


"Because you couldn't think of the same bloody place for two seconds, is why!" Laurolf continued his protest.


"Or perhaps the portal just isn't as accurate as we thought." said Meric in Violet's defense. "Either way... Wait! Wait a second. We're not all here." Meric was right. A brief inspection revealed that only Dina, Violet, Meric, A'kal, Laurolf, Henvei and Valtieri made it through. They were missing two people: Feyn and Xenthriss.


"Ach, no one will be missing those two." Laurolf grunted, calming down.


"Perhaps." Meric said, thoughtfully. "But it's not a good sign. Not only we ended up in the wrong place, but two people ended up somewhere else entirely. I was the last to go through... I saw them go in. Wherever could they be? Most troubling."


Meanwhile the rain kept pouring. It wasn't a complete downpour, mind you, but certainly more than just light rain. More than enough to get everyone noticeably wet by now. At least there was no wind, or it would have been colder still. The grey skies loomed over, caring nothing for the troubles of mortals beneath them. There was a pine forest across the plains, perhaps a mile off in the opposite direction of the river. Its edge was shrouded in fog, just like the far end up the road supposedly leading towards the mountains. The other side of the river Dunnaev was also hidden in fog. The city to the South was not.


With everyone still tired from the earlier hike up Sandpeak Mountain and the dungeon crawling through Zvern Azna, the situation was far from ideal.
 
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A'kal took note of the disappearance of the two drakkar. Most likely went back to their desert homeland. The rain wasn't a bother to A'kal - he had learned to out patience this weather a long time ago. He looked at Violet and Meric: "I think we should regroup with the Resistance before we get spotted by our foes."
 
Violet looked gloomy. "That would be best, if we weren't so far out. It's twenty miles from Dunn to the Resistance base."


"A fair distance to walk, even for well-rested travelers." Meric remarked. "Which we are not. We can't make that trip. Especially some of us." He intentionally avoided looking at Dina. "What about Dunn, Violet? The last time I was here was many years ago."


"The city is officially under imperial rule, but just officially. Lord Brook is a Resistance compatriot, and there are many supporters here, probably more than anywhere else in Asgard. We couldn't really hide our base of operations next a major settlement loyal to the enemy. It's relatively safe, and sure beats camping in the woods."


"We be findin' ourselves in agreement on that, elf." Laurolf said, not hiding his hate for the weather. "I dunno 'bout you people, but these surroundings be givin' this ol' dwarf the creeps."


Meric concluded: "Then I see no reason why we should be getting wet out here. Let's head for Dunn. Unless you'd prefer the open sky, A'kal? Dina? Henvei? Necromancer?"
 

Dina Ailsa

Lost Child of Asgard

​



"My poor dress..." Dina sighed looking at her drenched clothes. To be honest, Dina's first thought was retreating to the woods. Forest felt like a second home to her and she was happy to see some trees after all that desert and hot sand. Meric was right though, the city seemed a much better choice considering the weather.


Portal has done more that brought Dina here. It showed her how tired she really was. Once out of the temple she relaxed and then realised a number of things: her back hurt, her eyes hurt, her legs hurt... Everything hurt. Dina was tired and now wet on top of that. A few things would happen next if Dina does not get to safety soon. She will enter that state of exhaustion where her body will spend the last bits of energy left in her. This ment that once her limit was reached she will get this mysterious boost of energy that will take hours and hours of sleep to make up for. And there's more! ... No, actually that was the only thing that mattered at the moment.


"Onwards!" Dina exclaimed and started walking the road.
 

Vittorio Valtieri

The Gentleman Necromancer
​



What a thoroughly unpleasant sensation. And now this!


Valtieri casts a gloomy eye about, taking in the dismal scenery, shivering a little in his robes - from desert heat to Dunn. Marvelous.


"Yes, let's get a move on." He says, leaning heavily on his staff.


How many lie dead beneath us, I wonder? Land like this is always founded on lost and lonely bones.
 

Henvei v. R. Daltzen

Master of Cards

​



Henvei slumped on a rock not far away, quietly soaking in the rain. His thoughts were withered, his throat parched, and in particular, his enthusiasm for doing anything that wasn't sitting still quite low. "Going so soon? But we just got comfortable." he rasped. The difficulty at which producing any sound caused rather surprised the scholar, and he suspected that he had not said much for the past couple of months, although he could not remember much. Just sand. Sand, sand sand.


Sand and rain didn't mix very well; Henvei presently jumped to his feet with the enthusiasm of a dead man, the rain having turned his sand-infested robes into a mess of gritty mud. "Nevermind. Let's go." Visions of the rain drowning the desert to hell crossed the scholar's mind as he brushed himself off as best he could. With any luck, the rain would continue, preferably into the next couple of years or so.
 
After a short debate with a predictable outcome, the fellowship makes for the nearby city of Dunn at the edge of their vision. The road follows the river at a respectable distance of some two hundred feet most of the time. Rain continues to fall as the short colon hurries along. It seems to grow darker with every passing minute.


After a while they reach the Riverfront, Dunn's district outside the city walls by the river. The architecture here is simple; houses made of wood, small, those by the river itself barely anything more than huts - the only big buildings are the warehouses. It is clear that this district is the home to the poorer part of the population. The main road takes the fellowship closer to the city walls than the river, but they can see small boats and fishing docks lining the bank through the gaps between houses. Oddly, there is no fog in the district itself, though it falls like a border all along the other side of Dunnaev hiding the actual far bank.


"Not a soul in sight." says Meric as they were passing the third row of houses. "Not even guards."


In reply, unmistakeable sounds of fighting begin coming from further in.
 

Henvei v. R. Daltzen

Master of Cards

​



"Oh, listen. They've put together a little party for us. How exciting." Henvei slumped against the nearest object he could find at an optimum slumping level. The rain, thankfully, had persisted, washing away most of the sand, although it did little for the scholar's temper. "Did you remember your invitations, everybody? Here's mine." He reached into the folds of his robe, scooping out a stubborn clump of sand, and threw it at the ground, unsatisfied with the resulting miserable splat.


"Well, come on, they'll be expecting us. I would think that you, of all wonderful people, would to know how these things work by now."
 

Dina Ailsa

Lost Child of Asgard

​



Dina tried to blow a stray lock of hair out of her face and failed miserably. Her hair was as wet and heavy as her clothes. She grew agitated. Yes, Dina knew how those things worked. She was sick and tired of fights popping up here and there in her way when all she wanted was to get some rest, food, and a dry dress.


"We will sing them a lullaby." Dina growled as her agitation turned into anger. She wanted strangling vines to burst from the ground and rid her of this pestering nonsense.
 



A'kal could hear the sounds of combat. His eyes scanned his surroundings. He drew his sword half way out of it's sheath before starting the approach into the Riverfront. He turned to his companions. "I'm going to go see what is happening within." He looked at each of them to ensure they knew his intent. "If that is the Resistance I heard then I will not be standing idle nearby."
 
Led by A'kal, Meric and Laurolf, the fellowship warily makes its way closer to the source of the commotion. They happen upon a most unlikely sight.


Right in front of the town gates, a large group of soldiers - about two dozen - is fighting with some kind of humanoid amphibian monsters with dark blue skin and dead white eyes. The monsters are only half in number, but even in the few moments of observation one can see that more of them are coming from the opposite side of the street. They are primarily using their clawed hands, trying to get closer to bite their victims with viciously sharp teeth.


A few soldiers are separated from the group on the side closer to the direction from which the Chosen have just arrived, as if the last wave came from that direction. One man stands out in particular; tall and broad, with wildly growing grey hair. From the lack of uniform it is obvious he is not part of the City Watch. His name is Sanya Sarkov - though no one currently present knows it. He seems to be holding his own well, delivering quick slashes of his sword at the enemies surrounding him, but a pack of monsters is just emerging from between the houses and out into the street, threatening to overwhelm him within moments.


At the safest spot from the fray, practically at the gates itself, is a tiny group of priests doing their best to support the soldiers. Among them is a priestess called Maggie.


At present, neither side seems to have noticed the fellowship yet.
 

Maggie

Priestess of the Maker​



Maggie grips her staff firmly in both hands as she assesses the fight. The soldiers nearest her seem to have their situation in hand, at least for the moment - it's the small group, isolated and farther away, that holds her attention most. She glances at her fellow priests, who are more focused on the nearer group of fighters and monsters. "You mind them," she calls over the combat sounds. "I'll see to that tall one and his friends!" Cautiously she circles the fighting, keeping close to the wall. When any monsters get too close, she gives it a two-handed bash on the nose with her staff to drive it away. Not wanting to surprise the tall not-watchman and the small group of soldiers with him, she shouts, "Hullo friends!" as she approaches.
 
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Sanya Sarkov

The Seventh Sword
​



"Come on, you sons of darkness! Taste my steel! I know you hunger for my blood, but you can't have it!" Sanya Sarkov bellowed with a harsh laugh now as his sword flashed through the creatures before him. He'd faced similar odds before, though not in a manner he was happy with at that time either. The flow of battle was natural to him but even he was aware of the chance of being outflanked in spite of his skill as a swordsman. He gestures with disdain at one monster trying to lunge in to bite him and the creature slams into the ground with the crunching of bone as invisible force crushes it down with his imperious gesture while his wild mane of hair flows with a gust of wind.


"I have all the time in the world! You fight like nattering goats!" Sanya taunted the creatures even as he delivers another riposte the severs an arm lunging towards him. He pants though, knowing that the sheer numbers could overwhelm him if he wasn't careful. He sees hopeful reinforcements, trying to cut his way towards them to join up with them. His other six swords shifting about his frame secure in their scabbards and ready to be drawn at a moment's notice.
 
"What the hell is that priestess doing?!" Meric points out towards Maggie who suddenly decided to leave the relative safety of the support group and move along the street towards them, seemingly not caring much for the ravenous monsters trying to get at her. Well, at least she hugged the wall. "Violet, give her some cover! I'll assist that fellow with too many swords!" he shouts to his compatriot but needlessly; the other shadow elf already spotted her and released a few arrows that successfully put down the couple monsters on Maggie's tail.


Since then the fellowship was no longer unnoticed. A few of the monsters emerged from a gap between buildings to their immediate left. Laurolf ran to greet them with his greataxe, preventing them from spilling onto the street.


The fighting was centralized on the south end of the street, but a greater threat became the small alley across the street from the gates. Amphibian monsters poured out of it, and there were not nearly enough guards there to stop them. Only Sanya and a couple guardsmen further off, and soon Meric who was on the way to help. "Friendly swords from behind!" he shouted towards the solitary fighter to warn him.
 

Maggie

Priestess of the Maker​



Maggie ducks under the backswing of a monster (its main target was the solder to its front, not the sneaking priestess behind). Swiftly she thrusts her staff between the monster's legs, tripping it up and knocking it to the ground. As the soldier cuts off the thing's head, she races outwards to join Meric and Sanya. Hearing arrows flying past her, she looks behind to see a pair of monsters drop. Turning around in a circle, staff flying in a defensive pattern around her, she sees the archer and gives her a salute in thanks, grinning broadly, before returning her main attention to the fight around her.


Up close, those who have the attention to spare might notice Maggie's priestess robes are fairly travel-stained and mended in places; they also drape oddly about her torso, as though she were wearing something much stiffer - a leather vest, perhaps? - underneath. She wields her staff competently enough, but seems more focused on defense rather than offense, leaving that for the people with sharp pointy things.
 
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Dina Ailsa

Lost Child of Asgard

​



Dina bit her lip. Her eyes were flying here and there as she was trying to figure out where her attempts would be most welcome. Even though her anger raged on, Dina was painfully aware of the fact that she was not of much use. If I try to block them out this ground would be turned into an arena. That should help them deal with the ones already upon them though. Dina decided to try to close off the alley right across the gates trusting Laurolf could handle the creatures closest to them.


"Henvei! Help Laurolf if you can!" Dina shouted before focusing on her task. She dared not close her eyes but envisioned what she wanted so clearly she could almost hear the shrieks of monsters as they were knocked back by the vines erupting from the ground before them. Vines that would serve to form a thick wooden wall between them and the soldiers fighting within.
 
Using what could well be her last reserves of energy, Dina succeeds in her intent though the result is not as spectacular as she might have hoped. Roots and vines spring forth from the ground at the entrance to the alley, but lacking the force the girl wanted. Thus it doesn't send enemies flying or knock them anywhere, but the barrier soon becomes thick enough to effectively prevent additional monsters from slipping through that way. However, this probably meant that they will join the bulk of the swarm down the road.


Laurolf was doing fine on his end, taking out a couple monsters with powerful swings of his greataxe. The dwarf was, for now at least, capable of holding them back. However, Henvei's help could come in useful if some of the monsters Dina blocked off find their way around this way.


It wasn't clear if the City Watch was winning, losing, or simply tied with the enemy. The cluster of armored soldiers and shiny-skin monsters was a mess to say the least.


Meric stood side by side with Sanya, taking the pressure off the man's right flank. He didn't try to look at him. The elf focused on quickly taking out enemies before they could amass. Individually they were weak, but in numbers they could easily overwhelm a fighter regardless of his skill.
 

Henvei v. R. Daltzen

Master of Cards

​



"Yes, yes, of course. Help the little folk." Henvei grumbled to himself, hopes to escape another fight without lifting a finger shattered. The dwarf was fine, why not a few fireballs into the thickest of the fray? The monsters would surely shrivel, and the guards...well, they were tough, weren't they? Why else would they sign themselves to something as silly as fighting?


"What a party this has been..." Henvei sighed, his spellbook slipping out of the still-damp folds of his robes to join the fight. Better to scorch a dwarf than to burn those who ran the only comfort in town. The scholar turned to face the little alley, where Laurolf fought bravely against one or two monsters. "Come now, friend, this is no time to stand shy in the corner. The dance is that way!" Henvei yells, half-heatedly, as he peruses his repertoire for something easy. Presently he settled on a fireball, which he sent lazily oozing through the air to land somewhere in the alley, a sickly, oily thing, which slopped along the ground and clung to surfaces like goo.


Good enough, the scholar figured.
 



A'kal unsheathed his blade and channeled his energy into the sword. The steel started to glow a blue-orange. As the knight came close to a small cluster of monsters, he swung his blade in a sweeping arc, the energy releasing in the form of a force wave towards the minions. He turned to a closer one, deflecting a blow before bringing the massive sword around to strike through the minion. "Spawn of the Sorceress!" A'kal hissed. "Taste the wrath of the Varden!" He leaped forward towards another minion with an empowered slash.
 

Dina Ailsa

Lost Child of Asgard

​



Dina took a few moments to recollect herself. I'm afraid i will not be able to do this again. I better switch to something less demanding. She thought as the weight of the day leaned heavily against her shoulders. Dina looked around thinking of her next move as she moved forward. She was still far enough to be safe from close combat. She focused on doing the following: Searching for a place where there were a lot of monsters in one place and trying to summon roots to try to trip them. She started with the group attacking Meric and that gray-haired man. If she could manage that distance Dina will try the same with demons that were flooding the soldiers farther across her post.
 
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Sanya Sarkov

The Seventh Sword
​



Sanya saw the new arrival but had little time to utter his thanks. Instead he refocused his wrath towards his left now. His sword slashing through the creatures in his reach again with the focused fury he'd often used to fight with. People were in danger because the usurper wanted to cause them pain. He could always check these new arrivals out more once they had saved the city for the time being. With that thought in mind, he skewers one of the creatures in front of him with a sudden thrust before shifting his stance to better maintain his guard while he tried to get a count of the threats on his side of the fight.


"Come on, you wretches! I'm still standing!" Sanya bellows in challenge against the creatures to try to keep their focus on him.
 

Maggie

Priestess of the Maker​



Maggie looks around, seeing that Sanya's and Meric's backs are pretty well covered, at least for now. She decides to help out the nearby guards with staff-pokes to their enemies' eyes and bellies, saving her magic for the healing she was sure would be needed after the fight.
 
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With some timely assistance from Henvei, Laurolf finishes off the last stragglers on his end, making that area secure. Thanks to Dina, the threat from the side alley has also been nearly eradicated as Sanya, Meric, and A'kal deal with the remaining monsters. Just down the street, though, things are looking less than favorable - though the City Watch still manages to hold the line, cutting down monster after monster, they have had several casualties by now. And the monstrous tide shows no signs of weakening.


Of the few guardsmen Maggie joined to fight alongside, two are suddenly overwhelmed and slaughtered before her eyes. She finds herself next to two ravenous monsters and but a single guard who does not seem to be doing well. As she blocks off one of the monsters with her staff the other one manages to get past it, and lunges at her. Things look like they're about to go badly for the fearless priestess... Without someone's interference, at least.
 
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