Fantasy RPG Forum - Standing Trials

Elyna sank onto the camp bed and watched as Faith bustled and fussed. Obedient she presented her wrists and watched bemused as they were tended to and cared for, “please, Faith – please just call me Elyna. I’m not…I’m no one’s mistress. Despite the nagging exhaustion she listened to what the woman had to say and nodded as the information was absorbed. She trailed fingertips down the freckled skin of her nose as she considered before finally shaking her head, “I’ve got a knife, in my bag,” she admitted and found that she couldn’t meet the young woman’s gaze. If she was armed, she could hear Faith asking, why hadn’t she fought her way free? Because where would she go? A Skyrider, unable to escape and bound more tightly by fear then the metal shackles. A knife made by a Smith of a rare and expensive metal; a symbol of friendship.
They’d eaten together but before falling asleep Elyna had made a quiet promise that she wouldn’t let anyone hurt the girl. Perhaps it was ridiculous to promise something she couldn’t provide for herself, but only Marcus held power over the Skyrider and as much as he was a bastard the young woman didn’t think he would attack the slave unprovoked.
She’d slept easier and dreamless, comforted by the thought of distant friends. Alistair was risking a lot to come himself and she hadn’t seen him in arcs. Had they ever been friends? What of Tristan? She’d liked the young man but hadn’t dreamt he’d make any efforts on her behalf. He was a good man though.
The young woman would have needed to be blind to miss the changes that Faith had worked in their wagon. She studied the blanket, pillow and canopy carefully before sitting down, with thanks towards the girl. It was astonishing how a few changes made such a difference. When she realised that Faith was waiting, patiently and obediently for orders, Elyna looked around uneasy, “Faith,” she gestured to her bag, “this is…dull and it’s hot and you must be bored. Please do anything you can to entertain yourself. You’re welcome to anything you can find in my bag, I have some embroidery threads if you like?”
Elyna collected the lucette herself and skein of brown wool. Keeping her hands busy, with the Hawk perched beside her, she started winding the wool into little knots. Comforted by the repetitive motion, hot but no longer burning the woman slipped inevitably into sleep. Curled up on the blanket with her arm wrapped over her face.
The days had fallen into a pattern. Travelling for the majority of hours of every day and pausing only to pitch camp and rest the horses. Faith liked to fuss and Elyna watched, bemused. The Skyrider found that at times she spoke to Alistair and the young woman in quiet voices. She was going to see Veljorn that much she knew. The rest of her plan was hazy. The woman was furious, silently seething. Marcus watched her whenever he could but he made little attempt to approach her again in Faith’s company.
On the 25th the day had progressed as normal and they had travelled endless miles. Anticipation curled in Elyna’s own stomach and she and Faith sat at the back of their wagon. Marcus had realised that she wouldn’t run. After all, with her pregnancy she was limited in how far she could flee and Elyna watched the clouds moving over the sky.
“Faith…” she broached the quiet that existed between them, “would you help me with my hair?” It was the first time she had accepted the offer. If she was going to see her Uncle on the next trial, she wanted to look presentable. She had a clean set of clothes and the scar on her leg had finally closed, beneath the pad and bandages.

They had been traveling along the road towards Andaris. From what Alistair gathered, Veljorn would begin the siege of the city very soon. It was likely that Venora's forces had already mobilized, and if Theodore had done well, hopefully with the assistance of Warrick's Skyriders. The House of Andaris was of course also important to include, and luckily Peake had been receptive to Alistair's plans at an anti-rebellion. Things were falling into place, even though he was not there to enforce them. What mattered now was ensuring that Marcus' reinforcement party and his presence as a general would be reduced.

Also, that Elyna had a chance to spread her wings and benefit the counter-rebellion. To this matter, the Coven had begun to act in his interests, and Alistair had noticed their signs. On the road, there had been a few dead animals with very hideously damaged flesh. This was a message from them that they were following ahead of the group, waiting for a proper moment. As the road came through heavy forestry, he knew that moment would soon come. Before it could, though, Alistair had to ensure that all went smoothly. Duncan's horse was beside his, the mercenary brought as Alistair's sole protection for if something went unwell without Marcus' notice. The Krome didn't want to be responsible for the grief of "Her Majesty" and so he allowed Alistair Duncan as his company.

The Venora leaned into the man and whispered into his ear. "If anything happens, soon, don't fight back," he ordered him. While he was sure the mercenary would have a perplexed look come upon him, the Venora looked away and straight. He said little else, but examined his surroundings. Beyond the treeline, he could already see evidence of the Coven at work. Beyond a thick flurry of trees, a flesh golem watched them, its arms clinging to a tree as the beast's freakish eyes stared beyond. But few, perhaps none, would notice. They were marching ahead like the good soldiers that they were, and the creature to most would likely appear as some odd tan fungus. As they went further on, though, the march was halted by a cloaked man who stood in the center of the road.

"Stop," he commanded. "Stop your march."

Alistair tilted his head slightly and parted his lips as if to appear confused, despite the fact that he was far from it. The man spoke again, with some of the bannermen continuing to march forward despite his commands. "Stop."

Alistair placed his hand against Duncan's shoulder, tugging him slightly. This was his warning - don't fight them. Don't protect me. Whatever the reason, he expected the mercenary to obey.

And without much pause, the man removed his cloak and revealed himself; a hideously disfigured beast, with rot consuming him and a jaw that had half torn from his face. Out of the treeline and bushes came a flurry of vile beasts, from men nearly without appendages to dogs with their ribs fully revealed. And from behind the line came a monstrous mass of flesh that began bashing into Marcus' retinue, pummeling the soldiers as they struck blows that hardly seemed to phase it. Alistair said nothing, did nothing, and did not move. He looked for Faith and Elyna with his eyes. He'd been traveling alongside them, but the faltering of the line would have sent them into some disarray.

Men screamed in terror and the masses of soldiers were fractured and beginning to waver. The hordes of the undead had converged upon them - a fearless and undying force that could not be bested in the same way as the flimsy bodies of mankind.

"Duncan, find them. Find Faith and Elyna."

Elyna had knelt up, watching the commotion through neat ranks of soldiers. Then it seemed as though the bowels of Idalos had opened up and spit out their foulest creatures. There was something wrong with their attackers. They moved through the ranks too fast and with too much strength. As though they didn’t get tired or weren’t concerned about self-preservation. It made them vicious. Faith pulled at her shoulder and urged her to hide and the woman frowned before finally shaking her head.
"I'm not going to hide, Faith."The slave took action and start flinging things off the wagon and Elyna pushed a frying skillet into Faith’s hands. It would heavy and it could do some damage. She was a Skyrider and although she was pregnant she wasn’t an invalid.
Protecting her middle was her utmost concern, but she also recognised that the best defence at this point could be offensive. Pulling her pack closer she pulled the bag opened, searching for the knife she knew lay near the bottom. Her fingers closed over the cool dark metal before her attention was caught by Marcus though as he made a dogged approach to the wagon towards her. Their eyes met for a brief moment and she stood, anticipating his next action. Then man threw her sword across at her, still in its sheaf before turning his horse. Elyna caught it with a silent prayer to whatever Immortal was listening and slid the dagger into her belt. It was then that the horses, rearing and backing in panic, manage to pull the wagon off the road. The wheel arch snapping as it was pulled over set of large boulders, jolting both she and Faith. Gripping the side the Skyrider managed to keep her feet and the wagon finally dropped. It wasn’t going to be moving far.
Elyna pulled the sword blade form its casing and spun it once, slowly before she walked to the edge of the wagon. The horses screaming in panic, one had managed to pull its tether free and vanish into the words but the second was quickly becoming tangled in the reins. Swearing Elyna faced a moment of indecision before shaking her head. Faith and herself first, horses second. The Skyrider balanced her stance and stood in the centre of the wagon, sword read to defend herself and Faith from any of the attacking party should it venture took close for comfort any longer. She heard someone shouting her name, but it was Faith who answered. Waving for assistance. One of the creatures had appeared at the back of the wagon and wasn’t giving up. Elyna took two steps forward, gripped her sword in both hands and swung it in a sweeping curve that severed head from shoulders and dropped it, inert in the grass. She pulled the dagger from her belt and offered it to the woman, “find your balance” she advised and turned to slam the pommel of her sword into the face of the next attacker.
Marcus had been determined to assist the women, but his horse was set upon by dogs and pulled down into the mud. Lurching from its back he rolled awkwardly and struggled to stand on an injured ankle. His gaurds had bene quick to follow him and were closing the distance to form a protective ring. They weren’t faster than an enormous cloaked figure who seemed to appear from the trees themselves. The figure launched at him and the Baron was forced to defend himself. Hacking away with his sword as he backed up, retreating towards the re-forming guards. The dead seemed to litter the grass, they’d taken heavy casualties and the air was filled with the screams of the dead or dying.

As the figure lunged once more, Marcus sidestepped. His sword cut clean through the creature’s wrist and a hand dropped limp to the wet grass. His ankle gave beneath him and he dropped to one knee. The guard had closed their ranks however and the soldiers reformed after the chaos.

A battle raged on. Alistair noted the absolute astonished confusion of the soldiers as they fought the undead - a sword to the gut meant little to nothing to them. Instead they kept the sword lodged within, forcing the soldiers into unarmed combat with a beast that would rip off their face with jagged teeth. The soldiers quickly became overwhelmed by the endurance and fearlessness of their foes, and even though the undead only numbered in the few dozen, Marcus' charge had been ravaged by their assault. Bodies littered the floor. The minions of the Coven practically crawled towards their next foe, grabbing onto men's ankles from the ground as their nightmarish companions leaped onto their backs and chewed into their skulls.

It was pure terror, unleashed. Duncan rode into the terror itself, his horse galloping through the madness as he searched for Faith and Elyna. Alistair sat quietly atop his horse and observed the environment around him. He directed his minions - Alaric and Grayson went after Marcus, who had fallen from his horse and onto the ground. He fell on his knees with likely injured ankles, something Alistair as a renowned doctor could imagine happening from such an impact. But the mage didn't go to help him - instead, he used the chaos to plot out his route of escape. There was nothing but forests all around. It was unlikely that he could wade through them fast enough to arrive in Andaris before Marcus did. The only option was to go forward - but to do so would require a very well-devised scheme.

The easiest route would be to kill Marcus. With the leader dead, little information would leave this place and Alistair could claim ownership of this band. He could transport Faith and Elyna to Andaris safely, without the machinations of the Baron lording over them. So, he sent his minions after Marcus in his injured state. Alaric and Grayson pursued him while Icarus and Andreas massacred his surrounding guard. The battle was fierce, though the undead were winning on all fronts. Marcus was practically sent to his knees, desperate, swords clashing between he and Grayson. Alaric sought entry, though when he struck, Marcus retorted and the undead soldier's severed hand was sent flying to the ground.

Alistair frowned. He would have to follow that by finding a new, fitting hand to add to Alaric, which wasn't quite an easy endeavor. Shortly after the fact, Alistair commanded Icarus and Andreas to retreat to the treeline using his power over the wells. They instead rained arrows on the soldiers, though they got into formation to defend their Lord, Marcus, who had fallen down on one knee. Grayson grabbed Alaric and ran into the trees, a blast of energy defending him as it smashed into the shields of the soldiers. It came from a figure, distant, concealed. It was Gravitation, Alistair recognized. Was that Ellasin, then? He did not imagine she would rush to such a scene. He had to imagine it was another.

Even so, his route was determined. Another blast of kinetic force ripped through the bushes and knocked horses onto their side. It pushed Alistair and his horse back, the creature nearly losing its balance. He saw what this figure was doing - providing him the opportunity he needed.

Blasts of energy tore rifts into wagons and sent men onto the ground. They were being assaulted from afar while the undead ripped through their ranks, especially in the back. The abomination of flesh had killed nearly a dozen soldiers by now, though it had been slashed into and butchered countless times. He could see its movements wearing down as it began to falter onto the floor. However, as the minions ripped through the back of their forces, they then descended onto Alistair directly. A few of Marcus' soldiers rushed foolishly to defend the mounted Lord, only to be slaughtered by the barely sapient skeletons that they had bashed into. One of them quite literally gnawed through a man's neck, while another brutally stabbed into a woman's skull as he pulled her hair from the back.

Alistair was being enclosed upon. The danger was evident. He could no longer be lost in thought - he would need to fight. Defend himself. He drew his sword from its sheath and slashed through the skull of one of the minions as it gnawed on the face of the woman. His expression was as unimaginative as ever, though by now he was surrounded by foes. His continued life was no longer a guaranteed outcome.

Faith screamed and drew Elyna’s attention to the Venora. She watched, feeling powerless to help him. There was simply no way they could cross to him in time and to try would be to forfeit a defensible position. The young woman reached and gripped Faith by collarbone holding her firm. Reluctant to let the girl dash to a heroic but ugly death in the pursuit of self-sacrifice. Fortunate for them both Duncan, who she recognised as Alistair’s assistant arrived and saw their predicament. He too followed his apparent ordered and wheeled, returning moments later with a second horse. Riding an unknown, frightened animal in the midst of battle was not the top of Elyna’ favourite ideas as an expectant mother. It seemed however, that she and Faith had little choice.
The Skyrider made a lunge for animals halter and pulled it close. Swinging her sword to fend off the attackers she urged for Faith to climb onto the animals back. Using her free hand to help the younger woman bundle onto it, but without much grace. It was then that Elyna swung up, reached around the younger woman and kicked the horse into motion behind Duncan. She had no idea who much experience Faith had with riding, but she wasn’t willing to bet both their lives on finding out. They stampeded after Duncan as he made his desperate foray to return towards Alistair.
It was a surge of the undead that split them in the end, combined with the blasts of power that Elyna could only describe as magical. The horse she and Faith rode had pulled up short and threatened to rear if they forced it any longer. The mass of attackers swarmed between the women and Alistair and Duncan. Before they could get trapped, Elyna pulled the horse sharp to the side, wrapping her free hand around Faith’s middle to try and steady the slender person and hopefully prevent her falling off. It was then that the Skyrider surprised herself, “Duncan! Get Alistair out of here!” If you can, she finished under her breathe, with no idea if they could hear her or not.
Then she nudged the horse into another run, charging down the final attackers that had surrounded Marucs. Maybe he deserved an ugly death, but he was still Malcolm’s son.