"Point taken, Lieutenant. Thank you." Slate replied.
Winterborn made an involuntary sigh in relief before saluting and hurrying away. Slate's voice had made it clear that she had been dismissed. After she departed, Slate looked over at Shale. What do you think?
She sniffed. Sounds like you're probably going to have to do another round of murdering. This is definitely more your strength than mine. If you want me to kill something, let me know, but this political intrigue is all your domain.
Slate rolled his eyes, knowing she was right. He gestured to the waiting biomass, and they began to consume the flesh anew. Whatever the result of this meeting with the Circle, they would need to have their strength.
Chapter 24: Scholar’s Last Stand
Merus watched his warriors go with a heavy heart. They had gathered the entirety of their lives and were moving into the forest to escape what they knew to be their impending death. The clutch was gone. Lucelynia was gone. The only thing left was for him to help defend the compound.
He didn't need to issue any more orders. The Guardians in the temple had been grave-faced and serious. They all knew what they needed to do. Captain Stonebringer walked along the lines, offering an encouraging word, or looking over a piece of equipment. It was all in order they knew, but Stonebringer couldn't help but make sure his troops would be ready when the time came.
Lieutenant Riverrun had already begun to harry the enemy's forces, and as he did so, more information filtered its way to him.
They had learned that the "regulars" as they had been calling them were little more than a poorly trained militia. In the first night alone, the Guardians had been able to kill a quarter of their number. Once the first one had been attacked, they stupidly rallied themselves and pushed into the dark woods. Once there, the Guardians led them on a merry chase where they tripped over trees, got lost, or found themselves impaled on the end of a Guardian sword.
The Guardians were paying their toll as well, however. It had become common practice to choose one person that would act as a sacrifice for the leader. The man could turn into a shadow and appear where a person was least expecting it. He used daggers to great effect but had also been witnessed turning swords, pikes, and other equipment into weapons of opportunity. There hadn't been a Guardian yet who met him and didn't fall to his terrible skill.
Fortunately for them, the leader couldn't be everywhere at once. While he was deadly in his own right, his troops fell quickly and in higher numbers than the Guardians. It was now sunrise on the second day, and they would be arriving within the clearing any moment. Merus wore the same equipment as any other guardian. They had breastplates made of a light metal fashioned into the form of silver scales above a loose-fitting chainmail shirt. The shirt extended passed their mid-thighs almost in the form of a skirt. A silver belt made of interlinked scales cinched around their waist.
Underneath the chainmail, they wore a padded white tunic edged in gold trim. The fabric had been provided by the barracks within the compound and it was extremely comfortable. It regulated their temperature and kept them warm or cool as necessary.
Upon each forearm, they had a vambrace strapped over a brown leather glove. Each vambrace had a different worked creature. On their right, a silver version of Shale had been embossed into the metal with such detail that she looked alive. On the right, a golden approximation of Slate coiled around the second vambrace. They were both poised for battle with their tails, claws, and talons outstretched. Worked metal made to look like fire covered the rest of the vambraces. To the Guardians, it was a reminder of what they were fighting for. No one had commissioned these works of deadly art–the Lord of Light had provided them.
On their legs, they wore trousers made from the same white fabric as the tunic that tucked into greaves that strapped to their shins over brown leather boots. Each greave was worked with the same kind of art that adorned their vambraces. Their boots remained unarmored, giving the Guardians a measure of dexterity and silence that wouldn't have been practical with sabatons.
To complete the ensemble, they wore snow-white cloaks with gold trim. In the direct center, a stylized sun made of fire was woven into the cloaks in silver and gold thread. On their heads, they wore an organic-looking helmet that covered their cheeks, and nose while leaving their senses unimpeded. The metal had been formed and stylized to look like the reptilian head of the Scourge with their maw open.
They were equipped with a similar-looking shield that looked like the two Scourge royalties, facing opposite directions in poses much like the ones that graced their vambraces and graves. The rest of the shield had been crafted to look like stylized flames. The shields were works of art and were clearly not meant to be used in conjunction with others in a shield wall. No, these were for individual fighting. They also had a long sword that was fashioned to look like the tail blade of the Scourge. It had been elongated to such a degree that it resembled a cavalry saber. It wouldn't be too useful for the kind of fighting they were about to do, but it had a stabbing point, and that's all that really mattered.
As a whole, Merus reflected that they looked regal and intimidating. Lieutenant Talvor's men would be wearing their leathers and some were genuinely upset that they wouldn't get to die in their guardian armor. Merus understood the feeling himself somewhat. When he donned the accouterments of a guardian, he felt that he had been renewed with a purpose. Seeing any one of the guardians in their matching gear made him feel like they were all there for the same purpose.
"Commander!" he heard from the front. "They've reached the tree line!"
All of the guardians formed up in front of the temple and created a line three ranks deep. There wasn't room to have a fourth rank for people to rest, this was the complete sum of their men. Sumnu and Merus took their places in the center of the formation. There wasn't a need for any more orders. The guardians knew what they needed to do. Kill or die. It was that simple.
In the distance, they could see the hostile force massing in front of the marshaling ground. They took the time to get back into formation, and they watched as the leader circled them on his horse, harrying them into position. Shortly enough, they were in a semblance of order, and the leader took out his sword and ordered them on. The enemy shouted their vengeance and began to rush toward Merus's waiting position.
The militia had been hassled all night and at least a quarter of their number had died. Their morale had been ravaged by the fact that they were unable to catch sight of their attackers. They were filled with renewed energy as they caught sight of their elusive enemy. They had first started by sprinting towards their enemy, but around the halfway mark they started to slow down. Even the bravest among them were intimidated by the shining silver line with stylized monsters on their equipment. Even their helmets cast shadows on their faces and made them look like walking beasts intent on devouring them.
As they slowed. Mordryn frowned at their cowardice. With a gesture of his hand, a violet-colored fireball flew from his palm and hit the ground behind the slowing troops with a massive explosion. The imminent threat of death spurred on running militia forces. The two sides slammed into each other with an enormous thunderclap.
The Vallyrian militia was doing its best to penetrate the Guardian formation, and they were getting stabbed and killed for their trouble. The first ranks pushed back, but they were supported by the shield of the second rank. The third rank took the opportunity to stab any of the militia that even slight penetrated the formation. It became apparent that the Guardians, increased strength, and speed mightily outstripped their opponents.
The first rank of guardians stepped forward as one and pushed off with their shields. Militia members went flying backward from the motion and landed on top of their counterparts, tripping up the next attack. The guardian spread their formation out, and the second rank stepped up to help the first. They began scything through the enemies with their sabers. Their superior weapons effortlessly punched through the cheap armor that
the militia members had been equipped with. Seeing that the enemy was going to rally itself, Stonebringer whistled loudly and the first rank melted behind the third rank. The second took the first's position and the third moved up into second.
With the small space afforded by the entrance to the temple, Stonebringer hoped to keep rotating his troops in this manner to keep them somewhat rested. The first attack had killed another quarter of the enemy's number without harm to his own forces, but they wouldn't be retaken in such a surprising manner. They still had twice the numbers that the defenders had.
Mordryn snarled at seeing so many of the Vallyrian militia die in the first exchange. He should have expected this from half-trained peasants. He would have the head of the administrator that had told them they were the finest fighting men on this side of the Vallyrian Collective. He hopped off his horse and strode towards the fighting men. He drew Whisper—his all-black sword—and swung it in small rotations at his feet. He guessed that he would have to do this himself.
Merus notices the leader's approach almost at the same time that everyone else did. A wave of barely repressed fear spread among the ranks, but they were too busy fighting off militia members. Instead of an organized attack, it had become a straight brawl. Lines had been blurred, and the polished stone underneath their feet had become slick with blood. Silver and red mixed into nauseating puddles as the ichor from the Guardians blended with the bright arterial blood of the attacking humans.
When Mordryn arrived, he began to sweep through the Guardians almost contemptuously. With every swing of Whisper, another guardian died. He felt energized by all the pain and the fear on the battlefield. To him, this is what it meant to be one of the Vallyr. They were the best on the battlefield. To be relegated to simple peacekeepers and slaveholders was against their nature. They lived for combat and fed off the dying on the battlefield. It only caused them to grow stronger. Soon he had become a black blur within the Guardian line. The militia began to rally around him until they realized that he didn't care who he killed. Militia that drifted to close to him died just as quickly as the guardians.
In one of the rare moments on the battlefield, space opened up between the two forces and a pocket of space was created around Merus and Mordryn. With a glance, Mordryn recognized that this must be the Guardian commander. He wasn't impressed. Merus for his part remained determined. He wouldn't let the enemy see his fear. With his sword outstretched, Merus charged towards Mordryn.
The movement caused the rest of the army to return to fighting. The guardians could only hope that while Merus kept the enemy leader busy, they could slay as many of the militia as possible. It was a valiant effort, and it wasn't long until most of the Vallyrian army had been killed. At the end of their conflict, only ten of the militia remained standing, but the Guardians had been ultimately defeated. The last ten watched the exchange between Mordryn and Merus.
Merus had tried everything in the book to attack this enemy and still, it just smiled at him with sharpened teeth. The corpse-like man had made no move to attack, he simply breathed in deeply every now and then as if he were enjoying the scent of springtime rain. The motion only incensed Merus further, and he lashed out as quickly as his body would allow him. It wasn't long before his strikes began to grow heavy and sloppy. With a quick glance around him, he realized that he had been the last guardian standing and he paused and stumbled a step back.
The Vallyrian made no move to approach him. Instead, it wanted to capitalize on this emotional moment.
"See? You're the last one. Your kin have all died." He whispered. Merus looked around him sadly. He recognized many of these faces from his childhood. Now they were dead because of him. He couldn't see Sumnu's corpse, but he figured the man had died as well. He took a deep breath and prayed to Lucidus. He could feel her presence with him even now.
He looked up with determination in his eyes. "I did the right thing. You'll never get the clutch, and you'll never stop the Scourge. Your reign in this world is over." Merus charged towards the Vallyrian with his sword held high. Even now, his form wobbled under the strain of just lifting his sword.
Mordryn grew tired of the game and turned into a phantasm made of shadow. He flew forward and punched Whisper straight into the man's chest, and Merus stopped wide-eyed in surprise. He began to cough blood. Mordryn kicked Merus in the torso to remove his blade, and the guardian toppled to the ground.
His last thoughts were of his beautiful Lucelynia. He desperately hoped she had gotten away. He hoped that she would find love again and he knew that the Lord of Light willing, he would meet her in the afterlife. He had done the absolute best that he could in the circumstances that he had been dealt. There was a peace in that. He closed his eyes for the last time, and one last shuddering breath escaped from his lungs, never to rise again.
Mordryn studied the fallen guardian commander and sneered. With a blur of motion, his killed the remaining members of his army as well. They were useless now. He needed to investigate the commander's last claims. The temple let him in freely enough, and he stopped at the threshold. He recognized the massive statue that took up the majority of the room. This was a temple to Lucidus, the Lord of Light and its presence meant nothing but terrible things to the Collective. He cursed internally. It hadn't been a ghost chase; the Scourge was back. He walked quickly toward the statue, there had to be another entry in this room that led to the rest of the compound, he refused to believe this was it.
In a short moment, he was right. There was a staircase that descended further into the pyramid. When he descended, he saw that staircases were going in several directions. He took the time to explore the compound thoroughly. It looked like the typical royal residence you might find in Soulreach with one exception. One room was clearly some type of hatchery. There were small alcoves that lined the entirety of the interior. Each nook looked like it would hold a sizeable egg there until it was ready to hatch. He blanched as he remembered the commander's earlier words. He needed to find these eggs and destroy them before they hatched.
He raced from the temple and quickly made his way to Legion, mounting swiftly. After a couple of circuits around the city, he found a trail that was heading southeast from the clearing. He immediately went to pursue it. They probably had a day's lead on him, but if he used the full extent of Legion's speed, then he could probably catch up to the force before they met up with any reinforcement if they had any. He still hadn't seen any of the monsters that the old Vallyrian legends mentioned, but he had seen their likenesses carved into the weapons and armor of the soldiers he had defeated. It was quite possible, he mused, that there weren't any such thing as monsters and those stylized representations were just decorations for the sake of intimidation.
Either way, there had been very few things that posed a threat to him in the last century. He wasn't afraid of ghost stories. Kneeing his horse, Legion broke into a gallop. His horse was always able to find the correct footing and dodge around the vegetation and uneven ground that would trip up an average horse. Mordryn patted the horse on the side of the neck. Good thing this horse wasn't anything like a typical beast.
It took Mordryn much longer to catch up with his prey than he had initially assumed. Apparently, they moved much faster through the forest than an ordinary unmounted foe. By the time that he had reached the edge of the forest, nighttime had fallen on the world. When he crested the tree line what he saw made him stop in shock. Plumes of smoke issued out from the city of Bastion. In the distance, he could see that parts of the wall had been destroyed. Not a soul was out in the fields or even in their homes with a torch lit. The sight was so unusual that Mordryn couldn't reconcile it with his vision of the Vallyrian Collective. They hadn't lost a city in over a hundred years.
Looking closer, he saw that a group of thirty-odd figures were racing towards the city at maximum speed. He could see that their forms were lagging as if they hadn't taken a single break in their flight from the forest compound. Mordryn frowned. He mig
ht still have a chance. Any force that had just invaded a city wouldn't be in any position to defend against him. Everything would still be in chaos, and the defenses would be lax. At heart, he was an assassin and not a warrior. If he snuck into the city, he could collect more information for the Collective and then assassinate the most significant threats to the empire. If he did so, then he could extract himself, get in contact with the Patriarch, and get a real Vallyrian army to clean out this infestation.
He sighed. He would have to leave his horse here. Legion simply attracted too much attention. If he left him here, the horse would remain in the area until he returned. With a thought, he leaped from the beasts back and gave it a gentle pat in dismissal. The horse could sense his intentions and meandered off without complaint.
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