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Post by amerlynn on Oct 25, 2009 16:49:15 GMT -5
((Well, I've been working on this story here for awhile and I was intent on submiting it once it was finished, but then something happened... That something was my reaching page 20 after completing Chapter 2... This is a long story, and I decided to just start by uploading the first two chapters. I hope everyone enjoys reading it, as much as I've been enjoying writing it.
Please note however that Amerlynn is not the lead character. While it is an important event in Amerlynn's past, the story actually follows another character as the hero. Consequently, the naration in the Prologue is spoken by that character.))
The Light of Dawn
Prologue: The Hero I Remember
I remember a story from when I was a little girl. This is not a story of princesses, and faeries, but instead the classic tale of a dragon, and a solitary man who would slay it. The dragon’s name, was Smaug…. The man’s… Bard. If you’ve a mind for history, then you already know that this is no child’s tale. This is very much the true course of events. A dragon terrorized a people, and was then slain by a man, with not more than a single penetrating arrow.
I was astounded as a child… To think, a dragon could be felled so easily? Of course, I eventually learned of the parts conveniently left out of my bedtime stories… Of the wars, and lives that were lost during that time. Of the damage Smaug was able to inflict before he was felled. I eventually began to wonder… If it is possible, do you think that… the dead could forgive Bard? …To forgive him… for not striking his arrow true sooner.
Chapter 1: Oh, Valiant Captain!
…and now a forest…
A lone woman stood upon a road, leading into a dark forest. Now, it was not the dark which concerned her, but the trees themselves. So long as she traveled the open plains, she could relax, but within the forest she would easily be set upon by brigands in hiding. “What a bother…” she mumbled. As she spoke, her worn grey cloak fell to the ground, revealing well fitted leather armor that provided sufficient protection without hindering movement. A large, round, wooden shield was strapped to her back, and beneath it was a short spear, its blade sheathed in a leather holster. She unclasped the shield, allowing her to draw her spear. If she had been attacked in the open, she would have had ample time to equip both her shield and spear, but within the boughs of the forest, she knew that such time would not be at hand. The woman let out a sigh. It would be a bother to have to carry her weapon with her hands, especially with her traveling sack already held in one hand and slung over her shoulder, but it could not be helped.
With her spear now free, the woman again fastened her shield in place, and wrapped her cloak around her shoulders. Grasping her spear, she checked the longsword at her belt for good measure, ensuring it was free in the scabbard, and could be drawn easily if necessary. Satisfied, she once again hefted her sack over her shoulder and set off into the forest.
Now, it is worth mentioning, an ordinary woman would have been quite foolish to travel into such a place alone. In fact, an ordinary woman would have been foolish to be in such a place at all. Between brigands, and wolves, there was already more than enough danger present. But this area of the world was not unknown for being invaded by goblins. There were many reasons to stay as far away from this place as possible, but in spite of all of them, this woman continued without hesitation. In fact, it is for these very reasons why she presses on.
The woman was, of course, above all else a warrior. Her body was not frail, or dainty, but muscular and lithe. She had long blonde hair, and her face, while beginning to show the slightest of wrinkles, still suggested she might otherwise have been considered beautiful, though instead, her hair was kept in a netted bun, save for a few strands which refused to be caged, and her face was just as often as not speckled with flecks of dirt, grime, and blood. True warriors knew at first sight that this was not a woman to be discriminated against due to her gender. Lesser men would tend to lack this foresight, and many were lucky enough to regret it later. Not all, however…
Her name is Freyathyn Dawning.
So the woman, Freya, continued into the forest. The last rays of light broke through the trees as dusk approached, and Freya knew she would soon have to make camp for the night, lest she expend her energy needlessly. While her mission may be serious, she was in no hurry. Her path was one guided by fate; in her mind anyway. She would arrive where necessary when necessary, and not a moment sooner or later. And then, she would leave just as she had come.
As she walked, however, Freya became increasingly aware that she was not alone. She was being watched, and her onlooker’s attempts at stealth were flawed in deed. Whoever they are, they were obviously amateurs… So, what is it then…? One? …Two…?
Giving no warning, Freya’s movement stopped. The slightest of a smile crossed her face. Twelve. Raising her head, she called out, “Are you finished already? This is getting old. Why not show yourselves and be done with it?” No response was given, though a sound, mixed together with the rustle of leaves, reached Freya’s keen ears. The sound could be described as a straining noise, as if something were about to give way. The woman was all too familiar with it. “Don’t do anything stupid…” she growled, harshly.
A man’s voice suddenly cried out through the trees. “No!” it exclaimed. But it was too late. An arrow left its string, flying from a bush behind Freya. She was ready for it however, and with nothing more than a simple flick of her spear deflected the shot harmlessly to the side. Refusing to waste even a moment, Freya spun her spear in hand until it was held underhand, pivoting on her left foot and placing her right half a circle behind her. Then taking a step forward with her left, hurled the spear through the air. It ripped through the bushes, and a man’s cry rang out through the trees.
Before the spear had even found it’s mark however, Freya was moving, dashing after her spear, so that as soon as it had struck it’s victim, she came bursting through the bush after it. Grasping hilt of her spear at length from its blade, she tore it from her assailant’s shoulder, the man crying out in pain as she did. He fell unconscious, slumping against a nearby tree.
Freya flourished her weapon, grasping it with both hands, she parried a strike from a nearby enemies blade. Taking advantage of her opening, she swept the man’s foot out from under him, staggering his balance, then turning full circle and grasping her spear by the end of its shaft, Freya swung her weapon at its side, slapping the side of the man’s face with the blunt of her spear, sending him careening through the air into a nearby bush.
The rest of the assaulting group was beginning to organize. Freya’s bold attack had caught them surprise, but they were ready now. A man from the front attacked with his sword, chopping down. Freya deflected the blow, allowing her weapon to slant to the side allowing the enemies blade to fall to the side rather than make full contact. This fellow was larger than the rest, and Freya knew she could not block a direct hit from his full strength. A figure also approached from behind, forcing Freya to dodge to the left. As she did, she deftly hooked her foot behind her, kicking the man’s foot out from under him, bringing him to his knee. With a flourish of her weapon, Freya struck the man with the blunt bottom of her spear to his throat, winding him. The large man also made to attack again, this time slashing from his right. Freya launched herself back, slamming into the large man’s chest, and staggering him. She brought the blunt of her weapon around, jabbing him with it straight in his belly. Releasing her spear with her left hand, Freya followed through, striking the man’s ribs with her elbow before turning full spin to deliver a kick to his skull, felling him.
With a flourish, Freya gripped her spear far from the blade with her right hand, gripping with the left near the tip of the blade in reverse-hand. She unleashed a full distance lunge, striking out as far as she could to stab her spear at her next opponent. As she did, the same voice that had called out before once again shouted. “Enough!” Suddenly, Freya’s spear stopped, locked by a skilled counter from the halberd of the man who had shouted. The spear was amazingly stopped at the full length of the halberd, caught between the prod and blade of the weapon. Freya couldn’t help but laugh silently. This man was clearly not only the leader, but also the most talented member of the group.
Locked in place, the two could only look at each other. To her relief, Freya saw that her other attackers were backing off. Good. She would have loathed relinquishing her spear at this moment to fall back on her sword. The man wielding the halberd was a tall, handsome man, with light brown hair grown to a slight length, and also carried a pair of sword at his belt, one over the other on his left side. He smirked slightly, but it was the same expression as Freya’s. One of mutual respect for the other’s talent.
The man spoke first. “You’re definitely no ordinary traveler; I’ll give you that.”
Freya cocked her head to the side. “And you are certainly no ordinary watchman. Tell me, do town guards often attack innocent women as the travel this forest?”
The man laughed. “So, that’s it, isn’t it? Stop seeing red for a moment and you realize we’re not the brigands you thought we were.” With a flick of his wrist, the halberd and spear were separated, and the man proceeded to calmly place the butt of his weapon onto the ground, like a staff.
Freya casually allowed her spear to hang as she held it. “Hardly,” she answered with a trace of amusement.
The man seemed confused by the statement. “What?”
Freya cockily cracked her neck to each side as she explained. “I noticed your uniforms right away. I merely decided to teach your militiamen a lesson in restraint. They got off easy…”
The man seemed stunned to hear the explanation. “Th-that’s… incredible! Amazing; even in the middle of such a frantic battle, you could still have such a keen awareness.”
Freya answered calmly, frowning slightly. “It’s not, really. Such insight is necessary on the battlefield.”
“Indeed… And, you are right. These men are naught but farmers, and townspeople. Their training is far from complete.”
“And yet,” Freya mused, “you are different… Why is that?”
“Well,” the man said with a smile, “my training is complete. I am Destin Arlos, former member of the Bree-town Guard, and current captain of the local militia force.”
“That’s a bold term to call them…”
Destin sighed, reluctantly. “We’re… still working on the basics…”
“So long as we’re all honest here. …So, then there must be a town nearby?” Freya asked.
Destin’s tone suddenly became quite grave. “Yes, but that is not the matter of concern here… You see, early this morning, a runner reached the gates. He was half mad, jabbering, and bleeding out, but we managed to gather a bit from him. If what he says is true, the old abbey to the northeast is in some sort of trouble.”
“Trouble…?” Freya asked with the slightest bit of interest.
“Yes… He kept going on about, attacks in the night. He also seemed to suggest that many of those staying up at the abbey were already dead. We moved as quickly as we could, but there’s no telling what we’ll find…” Destin frowned, shaking his head, and placed his hand to his brow. “But as you’ve already discovered, these men are just common folk. Farmers, and storekeepers; plenty brave enough, but hardly talented with a blade. Which is why I’ve a mind to ask you to help us.” Freya only stared at him, as though waiting for him to make a point. “If we had you at our side, I’d feel a whole lot more comfortable going into this. I have to try to help the people at the abbey if I can, but I’m worried about my men. Another skilled fighter such as yourself would increase not only our odds of success, but the chance of every one of us returning home to our families and loved ones.”
Freya continued to stare at him for a moment before turning walking to her fallen belongings. “Sorry… Can’t help you.”
“Wh-what!?” Destin asked in shock as Freya swung her cloak over her shoulders, and hefted her traveling sack.
“Tell me,” Freya explained calmly, “do the people at the abbey have any weapons?”
Destin shook his head. “It’s an abbey… Of course not.”
“And so,” Freya continued, “how do you suppose they could have survived an attack, hm?”
“Well… There’s always a chance… that…”
“Go home, Destin. Your town is in danger without at least one able warrior manning the walls. Send a few hunters up to the abbey to gather the dead bodies and give them a proper parting.” Freya turned away, coldly continuing on down the path before her. “There’s nothing left to protect in these woods…”
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Post by amerlynn on Oct 25, 2009 17:04:01 GMT -5
Chapter 2: The Scholar, but a Novice
That idiot… In spite of everything, he still chose to go to the abbey… Freya stared into the flames of her campfire, frowning as she chewed on a piece of dry bread.
Finishing off the last of her bread, she lay back with a sigh. “If you keep wasting hope on nothing, you’ll inevitably fall into despair… It’s a far better thing to work for a future than to hold onto a fading dream.”
With a shake of her head, Freya dismissed her thoughts. There was no sense in thinking about such things any further. Instead, she grasped to the side, finding her cloak, and pulling it over her. A few moments later, she began to allow herself to drift away, into her dreams.
She wasn’t sure how long she was able to rest, but she began to hear something. It was faint at first, clouded by the veil of her consciousness, but as it persisted, she became increasingly aware of it, until finally she jolted awake. It seemed to her for a moment that the forest was… singing. Its song seemed to echo with a deep sadness, and yet, it was a sadness which was hauntingly beautiful. Freya reached for her spear, not willing to take any chances as to the origin of the song. And then it seemed her cautions were confirmed. The forest echoed with another sound, but it was not a song, nor was it in any way beautiful. It was haunting… The forest had come alive, with the sound of screams.
Leaping up, Freya quickly discerned the direction the screams were coming from. Checking her sword in its sheath once more as she darted off in the same direction, she hefted her shield from the ground as she passed it. The cries of men grew nearer, and Freya’s mind had already come to the most obvious conclusion. The militiamen were under attack. But from who?
The screams gradually began to lessen, and Freya knew there wasn’t much time. If she was to save any of them, she had to move faster, yet her legs already carried her with all of the swiftness she could. Even after the cries faded to nothing, Freya was still running. Eventually, Freya broke through the trees to see a lone figure standing in a small, blood drenched clearing, hunched over, and leaning on his blood-stained halberd.
Freya approached the man from behind. “Captain… What happened to your men?”
Destin strained to turn his head, leaning against his halberd with all his weight. “Gone,” he whispered. “They… w-…. taken!”
“You mean they were captured!? By who?”
Destin shook his head. “No… Not… They… We were… slaughtered… Too many… We… never stood, ugh… a, chance…” He struggled for breath, but strained to finish. “They were taken… geh... after, they were dead…” Tears were now beginning to run down the man’s face as he stuttered, “I-… I couldn’t save them! I’ve failed them… I…” With a slight convulsion, he fell to the ground, his halberd slamming down next to him.
Freya calmly stooped next to him. Setting down her spear, she rolled him onto his side and checked his pulse. “Hm… Not dead yet… You are a tough one, aren’t you, Captain?” Blood soaked through his hauberk from a gash in his stomach. With a great deal of effort, Freya managed to remove Destin’s hauberk, and bandage the wound with cloth from his cloak. It was crude work, but it was better than nothing.
Sheathing and holstering her spear on her back, Freya then placed her shield on the ground, and dragged Destin’s body on top of it. She had already decided. The best chance for his survival was to try to get him to the abbey. With any luck, whoever attacked it and the militiamen wouldn’t still be there. And to try to return to Destin’s village would result in his death long before they arrived. It was the only chance, risky as it was. Here I go again playing the hero… If I have to drag a bleeding body through the woods, I just wish that this damn music would stop!
Indeed, the voice of the woods had not ceased in its song. In spite of the time which had passed, its voice had never dulled. Freya did not know the exact direction to reach the abbey, but she did know which way the militiamen were headed. She had no choice but to hope that traveling in that direction would lead her directly to her destination. Grasping the leather straps normally used to hold her shield in place while traveling, Freya began dragging Destin’s body along after her as she made her way through the forest.
It was slow going, but eventually the dawn was upon them, shining its first rays of light through the trees. At long last, the song of the forest stopped, and Freya might have breathed a sigh of relief if she wasn’t so exhausted herself. Not too long after, Freya found herself at a large open space in the woods. At the center of the clearing was a large stone building adorned with the symbols of its religion and there was an expansive garden growing beyond it. The massive wooden doors that stood at its entrance were badly battered, and had been fractured, leaving a hole in the door about the size of a small tree trunk. Most surprisingly however was the eastern tower, which glowed with the light of a burning fire, smoke billowing out of a chimney. Perhaps there were survivors after all? Or perhaps… this is where the attackers sought refuge after slaughtering Destin’s men? Either way, Freya could not be cautious at the moment, and began to drag Destin’s body over the green grasses before the abbey.
Freya reached the great wooden doors of the abbey, and to her surprise found them barred. While the hole in the doors would have been large enough for her to pass on her own, she would have had a great deal of difficulty getting Destin through unharmed. Instead, she decided to knock first…
Banging on the door with her clenched fist, she called out, “Hey! Open this door! I have a wounded man out here that needs help!”
Freya could hear voices arguing from within. “Don’t open it! It’s a trick.”
“Oh, shut up Paugo!” retorted a woman’s voice.
“You shut up!” Paugo responded in a childish tone.
“That’s enough… Quiet, both of you,” sounded an elderly man’s voice.
Freya could hear the plank blocking the door being moved to the side, and then the doors slowly creaked open, revealing a clean shaven old man with long silvery white hair. “Heavens, child. What brings you out this way?”
Freya gestured to Destin. “As I’ve said, I have a wounded man here. Can you help him?”
The old man turned to Destin with a frown. “Oh my…” he said wearily. “Please, bring him inside.” With that he opened the doors the rest of the way.
Freya moved to and lifted Destin off the ground, carrying him up the stairs onto the entrance porch and through the doors.
“Siewyn,” said the old man, as he motioned to a brown haired woman in a white dress, “please, fetch a pillow for this poor soul.”
“Right away, Abbot,” she answered, hurrying up a nearby staircase.
“Paugo…” called Abbot.
“Yeah, what?” replied a pot-bellied hobbit in a disrespectful tone.
“Gather bed sheets from upstairs to make fresh bandages for this man.”
“Why do I have to-…?” began the hobbit, but stopped short upon seeing the glare on Freya’s face. “…Sure thing…” He then turned, and scurried up the stairs as well.
Freya crouched down beside the abbot, who was leaning over Destin. “Well…? Can you help him?”
Abbot shook his head. “I can try, but there’s only so much I can do. I’m just an abbot; not a healer.”
“Well, isn’t there a healer somewhere then?”
Abbot’s skin turned a ghastly shade of white at the thought. “W-well…” he said shakily. “We did, but…”
Freya waited a moment for him to finish. “…Well? But what?”
“But… he was, uh…” Abbot looked over Freya, apparently trying to decide how she would react to what he was about to say. “…eaten…”
“What!?” Freya jerked in surprise.
Abbot nodded sorrowfully. “Oh yes… Terrible way to die, it is.”
“By what!?”
“By the cook, ma’am.”
Freya’s eyes slanted as she looked over the old abbot. Is this some kind of sick joke…? “That’s sick…”
“Quite, ma’am…”
“What kind of abbey are you running here old-timer?”
“Please, it’s not that simple,” the abbot explained. “We’re under attack. Even as we speak, all of us here are in danger.”
“Oh really…” Freya spoke slowly. She was beginning to suspect that the old abbot might not be quite in control of all his marbles.
Abbot took a deep breath. “Unfortunately… It is the truth. …You do have my sympathy miss, but I’m afraid you will never be able to leave this place.”
“I’ll be the one to decide that. What’s to stop me?”
Abbot’s expression became quite sorrowful at the question. “It’s too late for you to have any say it in… There’s no hope for any of us…” He gazed intently at Freya as he explained the rest, his eyes assuring her that not only was he sane, but he was… right… “Every night, our small out of the way abbey is beset by the undead. The blasphemous creations of evil; demons which should not exist in our world brought through by controlling the bodies of our own most dear. They attacked so suddenly… Anyone outside of the abbey at the time was… Well… There was never a chance for them to escape…”
“Wights…” Freya whispered.
“The very same.”
“Servants of the enemy… But why? What reason could they have to attack such a reclusive place?”
“I don’t know… I just don’t know… But what I do know is that it has been three whole days and we…” Abbot shook his head. “You’ve seen the door. That happened last night, just before dawn. Now that they’re through, we won’t be able to lock ourselves in any longer. There’s too many of them to have a hope of fighting; short of a miracle… there is no way we will survive the night.”
“Why not leave? Just run away. This place isn’t worth dying for.”
The abbot sobbed. “Perhaps not, but we have no hope of surviving. We stay up all night to try to fend off any of the wights that break through the door. …Not that we could sleep if we wanted to… And even if we could leave fully rested at dawn’s break, we would not be able to leave the forest before sundown. Not on foot…”
“That doesn’t mean you couldn’t survive. A runner made it to a nearby town.”
The abbot laughed hopelessly at Freya’s words. “A runner? We sent no runners. Three nights ago, there were twenty of us… Now, there are only six. The rest all fled at the first dawn. I tried to warn them, but they wouldn’t listen to me… Fourteen people left that morning… and you say, only one of them survived.”
“No…” came a hoarse voice from below. Destin struggled to speak in spite of his wound. “…The runner… died after we got to him… It was already too late…”
The abbot shook his head in grim satisfaction. “There, you see? Fourteen left… and none of them survived.”
“You’re awake…” Freya commented. “You’re stronger than you look. How are you feeling?”
Destin groaned. “Like I just left half my guts in a forest somewhere… …Oh wait… That’s right…”
Freya grimaced. Men… Just then, the woman called Siewyn returned with a pillow. “Here.”
“Thank you, dear,” the abbot said kindly, placing the pillow beneath Destin’s head.
Freya glanced up at Siewyn before turning back to the abbot. “What about the others? You said there were six people here; I’ve only seen three.”
The abbot sat back. He seemed exhausted. “Well, you’re already met Siewyn and Paugo. And of course, I am the local abbot, Faerweather, though most have takent o calling me ‘Abbot’. Then there are the two brothers, Amir and Bomir. They’re monks who’ve resided here since before I arrived. Oh, I only arrived here six weeks ago after the old abbot passed away.”
“And the sixth?” Freya inquired.
“That would be the scholar, m’lady.”
A glimmer of hope spread through Freya. “A scholar? That’s wonderful; perhaps he’ll be able to care better for Destin. Where is he?”
“She…” answered the abbot, “was last seen entering the eastern tower, before this whole ordeal began.”
Freya frowned, slanting her head. “You mean she hasn’t come down the entire time?”
“Well,” answered the abbot, “it isn’t unusual. I’m told that she arrived here seven months ago, asking to have access to the library. She keeps to herself mostly, often spending days locked in that tower, only to come down half starved and dehydrated. But when she hasn’t locked herself in the tower, she’s been a real boon to the abbey. Tending the gardens, and assisting with the chores. Not like many so called scholars who remove themselves entirely from the daily life of the abbey.”
Freya’s brow creased slightly. “Do you really think I need to know all that? She’s trapped here too, so the old bat can help out. Haven’t you tried calling her?”
“All of our attempts have met with silence. But I’m told that she has never responded to interruptions in the past, so…”
“Oh, never mind!” Freya growled. “I’ll go and get her myself.” Incompetent geezer… Without another word, Freya headed for the stairs leading up to the tower.
Freya soon reached the second floor, which seemed to consist of the dormitories and sleeping quarters, as well as the library. From the staircase, was a large open room filled with barren shelves with nothing more than a few books oddly speckled on various shelves. This room appeared to open up to a hallway with numerous doors leading to sleeping quarters. The abbey was most certainly large enough to hold many more people than currently resided there.
Continuing up the stairs to the tower, Freya found much to her surprise that the large oak door leading to the study was open. Upon entering, she saw the tower was filled with books, no doubt accounting for the barren shelves in the library… The entire room was littered with stacks of books, one upon each other, the only open areas in the tower being a modest bed, a wooden rocking chair by a still burning fireplace, and a desk… which also had a large stack of books on it.
Freya began to move about the tower, aware that the scholar was no longer present. Walking toward the desk, she examined the title of the book perched atop the stack upon it. A Short Treatise on the Practical Application of the Peanut- 300 Uses. …It’s over a thousand pages long… Shaking her head, she couldn’t help but ask herself, “What kind of person would actually choose to live like this?”
As if to answer her question, Freya heard the sound of footsteps approaching up the stairs. They paused for a moment at the door, and the sound of it being slammed shut sounded through the room. A few footfalls later, a figure came into view, carrying a large stack of books just slightly above her head, the last of the second floor library’s contents no doubt, which consequently concealed her features from view. Freya quickly moved out of the way as the scholar approached, seemingly unaware of her presence. The woman sat the books down in the middle of the table, then lifting the old stack of books and placing them on the floor, and turning to head back toward the door. Freya could then see the woman’s features, and was surprised by just how young she was. She’s a scholar? …She’s probably younger than I am…
Still unaware of Freya’s presence, the scholar had begun down the stairs. Freya could hear the ratcheting sound of a lock being moved into place. The scholar then returned up the steps, and began toward the desk. “Excuse me,” said Freya, “but could I talk to you?”
In spite of Freya’s question, the scholar seemed unmoved. In fact, she just continued on her way as though she hadn’t heard it. Freya scowled. “Look, I know you’re busy, but there’s a wounded man downstairs. And if there’s anything you can do to help him…”
Again, the woman remained unmoved. By now, Freya was beginning to become genuinely angry. “Hey, can you hear me or not? I said I need your help.”
The scholar picked the top book from her stack, and sat down at the desk, opening the book to the first page. She almost seemed completely unaware once again, but then she picked up her head, as though hearing something very faint. She slowly began to turn her head, and her eyes came upon Freya, standing just where she had since the woman arrived. She stared over Freya, her eyes moving from her face, to the spear over her shoulder, to her armor and sword, before returning to the face again. The woman blinked… and then jumped up with a shout. “Yah-ha!”
The scholar tipped over her chair as she jumped, tripping over it, and staggering into a pile of books before slipping on an old scroll carelessly placed on the floor and tumbling into several oversized stacks of books, downing them over on top of her.
Freya watched the entire spectacle at complete ease, and when it was over and the woman lay buried under a mountain of her own intellectual pursuits with nothing but her feet and the lower part of her legs revealed, Freya still felt not even the slightest sense of concern. “…What a humiliating way to go…”
With a sigh, Freya began to dig out the scholar, tossing the books covering her to the side without reverence. After several minutes, the scholar was revealed with her face quite literally buried in a copy of Down the Hobbit-Hole- Wonders of the Shire-lands by H.P. Sacksville. With a groan the scholar slowly lifted the book from her face, and sat up. “I hate that book…”
“Are you alright…?” Freya asked coldly.
The scholar looked up, a blank expression on her face. “Yeah… I think so, but I… Oh my gosh!” she shouted, standing up suddenly. “I’m sorry! I’m so terribly sorry!” she repeated insistently, bowing with each repetition.
Freya frowned, perplexed by this behavior. “What for?”
“I’m sorry…” the scholar said again, sadly. “I was careless, and wasn’t paying attention. Did you get hurt when I knocked the books over?”
Freya stared at the woman for a moment. You’re the one who they fell on… “No… I’m perfectly fine…”
The scholar breathed a sigh of relief. “That’s good… C-can I get you anything? Maybe some tea er…” She glanced around the room. “…I’ll, go get some tea!” She then made her way for the stairs.
“I didn’t come here to sip tea lady!” Freya explained, catching up to her. “There’s a man downstairs; a wounded man, who’s probably bleeding out in the main hall right now.”
“What!?” the scholar practically shouted. “Then tea would be a very very bad idea! I’ll go try to help him!” She hurried down the stairs, pushing the door as she went. Freya heard a slight thud. “Ohch! Darn it…” the scholar muttered as she unlocked the door and ran down the stairs.
Freya continued staring after her, even after she had gone. “…We’re all gonna die…” _____________________________________
When Freya reached the main hall, the scholar was leaning over Destin, the abbot having disappeared from sight. Siewyn stood over the scholar’s shoulder, nervously wrenching her hands. Paugo had returned with the blankets, and the scholar had begun using a knife to cut them into bandages. Freya approached them. Arms folded, she asked, “Well…?”
The scholar shook her head, casting a frown at Destin. “He’s unconscious again. There’s a needle and thread upstairs I could use to close the wound, but it won’t mean anything if I can’t stop the bleeding.”
“That’s not the answer I want to hear…” Freya grimaced. “Isn’t there anything you can do? Think of something!”
The scholar sat up straight, folding her left arm under her opposite elbow, pressing her lips lightly with her right hand. She seemed lost in thought for a moment before turning her head up to Freya. “If I, were… I-I… remember reading, a few years back… …A-about a treatment that might be able to help him.”
While it was rather uncharacteristic of her, Freya smiled kindly at the girl. “Well there you go… Do you have the means?”
“I-I… believe so…” the scholar answered hesitantly. She stood, turning to Siewyn. “Lady Rauschven, I have a favor to ask. While I know it to be repulsive work, I need you to watch this man while I am away. Keep pressure on his wounds to try and ensure he does not bleed out.”
Siewyn jolted at the mention of her name. She had been staring blankly at Destin’s wound, her face pale. “Y-yes!? Er… Yes… I-I’ll see to it Amerlynn.”
“Thank you, very much m’lady.” Amerlynn bowed politely, then turning to the squat little hobbit sitting in a chair across the room. “Mister Paugo, could you please fetch a needle and thread from the dormitories upstairs?”
“Oh, sure…” Paugo muttered indignantly. “Do I look like a pack rat to you? Where would I even look?”
“If you can’t be bothered to move those filthy feet of yours on your own, might I suggest searching my room? I have a sewing kit which should serve well,” offered Siewyn, a tone of contempt on her voice.
Paugo laughed. “Oh-ho! My! Well, this is quite an honor being invited into the lady’s quarters! I am truly not worthy of such a tremendous honor! Hahaha!” With that, he bounded off, and up the stairs.
“Just don’t touch anything else you greasy little ba-…” Siewyn stopped her sentence short at the abbot’s entrance from the chapel in the next room. “ba-(r)…na… cle…”
Abbot frowned, clearly not being fooled by Siewyn’s sudden change of words. Then turning to Destin, he shook his head. “Oh, dear… Unconscious again?” Freya noticed he was carrying a book of religious texts he had not had before.
Amerlynn nodded. “He asked you to read to him before he blacked out, did he not? I believe it would be wise to do so anyway. There’s power in such words.”
“I agree whole-heartedly Miss Amerlynn. And in these dark hours, we need a miracle or two more than ever.”
Amerlynn suddenly seemed perplexed. “Dark days? …I’m curious what you mean by that? You’ll have to explain it to me upon my return, but I mustn’t tarry any longer.” She then turned, walking to the wooden doors at the entrance. She reached to the latch, but her hand fell upon the empty space where the door had been broken away. She stumbled slightly, nearly striking her head against the door. “What in the world? What happened here…?” She glanced over her shoulder for a moment before forcing the door open. “I can see I’ll have quite a story to hear.”
Freya stared after her, a look of bewilderment in her expression as Amerlynn disappeared through the door. Then turning to Abbot, she asked, “She… does know about the wights… does she not?”
The abbot said nothing, only blinking with a blank expression. Freya let out a sigh. “I’ll go look after her…” she said with a groan.
“You needn’t worry so much,” called the abbot as Freya left. “The wights only attack at night.” ______________________________________
Freya followed Amerlynn to a small pond at the edge of the clearing in the forest. Once there, Amerlynn crouched upon its rim and leaned over it. She held out her hand over the water, and Freya could see a slight ripple spread across the surface, even though Amerlynn’s hand had not touched it. Amerlynn nodded. “Yes… This will do…”
Amerlynn stood up, and removed her vest, placing it carefully on the ground next to her. Freya thought that her violet robes looked somewhat incomplete, and plain without it. “What are you doing?” she asked.
Amerlynn looked up with a start, crying out and staggering back. Freya grasped her arm before she fell into the pond. “Let’s not start that over again…”
As Freya helped her regain her balance, Amerlynn gave a relieved sigh. “Thank you. But… what are you doing out here? Wouldn’t you be more comfortable tending to your friend?”
“He’s not my friend…” Freya answered simply. “But I’d like to know what’s special about this pond that would allow you to help him.”
“I… think it would be easier that I show you than tell you,” came Amerlynn’s answer. She turned to the pond once again, but then nervously glanced over her shoulder. “Could… could you turn around?”
Freya slanted her head slightly at the request. “…Why…” she asked hesitantly.
“I’d… like to remove my pants before wading into the pond so as not to get them wet… and… I’d feel embarrassed if someone were watching,” Amerlynn answered, her face turning slightly red.
Freya stared at her, perplexed. “But… we’re both… Oh, nevermind…” With that, she obliged, deciding it faster to just go along with it.
A few moments passed. Freya could hear the shuffling of cloth behind her. Then she heard a restrained yelp of pain. She couldn’t help but to turn around. “What is it?”
Amerlynn was standing with a knife in her hand, her arm bleeding. Incidentally, while she had removed her pants, her robes still served to preserve her modesty.
“What in the world are you doing…?” Freya asked, slightly disturbed by the girl’s self-inflicted wound.
“Don’t worry. It’s only a minor cut. I’ll be perfectly fine.” Amerlynn sheathed her knife, and lifted her robes so as to not get them wet. She then smeared her blood on each of her legs before wading into the water, submerging her wounded arm as well. Freya watched her from the shore with mild curiosity. A few moments later, Amerlynn let out a yelp, similar to the noise she had made when she cut herself.
“Are you alright?” Freya called.
“I’m alright! I know what I’m doing,” Amerlynn insisted, looking more than just a little uncomfortable.
In a short amount of time, Amerlynn yelped several more times before wading her way back to shore. Now that she was out of the water, Freya could see the cause of Amerlynn’s discomfort. Leeches had attached themselves to the wound on her arm, as well as to the bloody spots she had smeared across her legs. Freya shook her head. “You know, I’ll admit… Before, I thought you were a bit addled, but this… Well, this makes perfect sense…”
Amerlynn began removing the leeches from her arm, placing them on her vest on the ground. “In a book I read years ago, I found that leeches have an uncanny ability to cease bleeding. I’d never had the chance to test it before now…” She removed the last leech from her arm, placing it with the others, and then examining her arm. “See here? The cut has already stopped bleeding,” she explained, holding out her arm. Indeed, the wound had stopped bleeding.
Freya nodded reluctantly as Amerlynn began removing the leeches from her legs. “It’s certainly a peculiar method… but you do have a point. Are you sure that Destin’s wound will be so easily cleaned, however? It’s certainly not quite like a cut arm…”
Amerlynn picked the last leech from her leg with a frown. “I don’t know really… But I want to try this first. The alternative is to burn his wound with a metal rod heated in embers.”
Freya stared at her in disbelief. “Don’t you have any cures that don’t involve physical harm?”
“My lady,” Amerlynn began in what must have been a stern tone for her. “I may not have much experience, but I know this can work. Not all good things are so plain as you might be used to.”
Freya huffed, but said nothing. Amerlynn sat on the ground and blew air on her legs. The gust of air that she expelled however was well beyond what should have been possible, and soon her legs were both clean and dry. She hurriedly dressed, and then picked up her vest, folding it like a sack, the leeches still inside. The two of them returned to the abbey. _________________________________
“That is disgusting…” Paugo muttered in disdain. “That is really disgusting.”
“You don’t see me complaining…” Destin maintained a steady voice through his comment, though he did look somewhat unnerved.
Amerlynn carefully placed another leech upon his wound. “I’m terribly sorry, but if you’ll just bear with it for a while longer. The bleeding seems to be becoming more manageable, and I believe the leeches may also serve to prevent infection.”
Freya had gone around back, in search of the brothers, Amir and Bomir, who had been tending the garden, gathering whatever fresh produce they could find, while Abbot had retired for the day, resting until the evening came. Paugo sat in his chair, seemingly un-inclined to so much as lift a finger before had to… a common behavior for him… while Siewyn crouched beside Amerlynn, intent to help in whatever way she could, but also hesitant to so much as touch one of the leeches Amerlynn had returned with, limiting her helpfulness.
“Don’t worry about me,” Destin insisted, bravely. “I’ve survived worse than this; I’ll survive lesser later.”
That’s a very reckless attitude to have… Amerlynn smiled. “I appreciate your confidence, Sir Destin.” Wouldn’t it be better to avoid injury in the first place? “Okay!” she exclaimed with a clap of her hands. “Now we should just have to wait. The bleeding should subside soon… So then we’ll remove the leeches and sew the wound shut. I’m sorry to ask, but you’ll simply have to endure the pain.”
“Ah… a little bit of pain never killed anybody,” Destin replied with a slight chuckle.
That’s… highly untrue… Amerlynn smiled. “Yes… I suppose you’re right.”
Destin then strained to look down toward his wound. “Say, wha-do-you suppose is gonna happen to the little guys when their work is done?”
“Hm?” Amerlynn blinked. “Oh, well, I… suppose they’ll simply be thrown out in the yard.”
“Aw, well that’s just cold…” Destin remarked.
“Hm…? Are you cold, sir?”
“Naw, I just mean… These little guys are here trying to save my life. It just seems a bit cruel to just cast them out.”
Amerlynn slanted her head. They’re parasites… They’re trying to suck your blood dry. “Oh…? I hardly think they would make very good pets. Just consider what a bother it would be to try to feed them.”
Destin rested his head against his pillow. “Yeah… I suppose. But still, they deserve something more, don’t ya think?”
“What did you have in mind, Sir Destin?”
“A name! They gotta have a name. Like that one!” He pointed to a leech near the middle of his wound. “What’s that one called?”
Uh… “Uh… Oh, well, I suppose, I haven’t really given it much thought…”
“Ah, well it’s gotta have a name!” Destin insisted enthusiastically. “I know! It’s perfect!”
Amerlynn glanced at Siewyn and Paugo. They seemed as struck by this odd line of conversation as she was. “What’s perfect?” she asked.
Destin grinned, laughing softly. “Fred. …His name will be Fred!”
…I believe Sir Destin’s blood loss has addled his mind… Amerlynn laughed politely. “Very well. As you wish, we’ll call that one ‘Fred’, Sir Destin.”
Siewyn scoffed. “I think all that blood you lost has gone to your head…”
“I concur...” Paugo agreed.
Thank you! “Oh…” Amerlynn uttered softly. “Now the both of you; you mustn’t be so rude.” ______________________________________
Freya returned to find Amerlynn stitching Destin’s wound with a needle and thread, the leeches having been deposited in a small container. Destin seemed to have fallen unconscious again, making no movement as Amerlynn’s needle pierced his skin. Siewyn had averted her eyes to the act, while Paugo sat with relative interest as he watched Amerlynn work. The two brothers (whom Freya had discovered had each taken a vow of silence) entered after Freya, each carrying a small amount of produce in a basket.
Freya knelt down beside Amerlynn. “Well? How’s he doing?”
Amerlynn wiped her brow with a sigh before turning to Freya with a smile. “I think he’s going to be okay. His a bit delirious, but that’s to be expected after everything that’s happened.”
Freya shrugged. “Well… I suppose that’s one problem out of the way…”
“Oh, yes!” Amerlynn said suddenly. “That reminds me; whatever happened while I was studying? It seems as though everyone has left so suddenly, and the door is so badly damaged.”
Freya scratched her head. “How in the world did you get this clueless? Didn’t you notice anything while you were up there?”
Amerlynn lowered her head with a frown. “No… You see, whenever devote myself to study I drown out all outside noise. I find it helps me concentrate.” Amerlynn chuckled. “You know… the librarian at the last place I stayed said the dead could wake and I wouldn’t notice if I was studying! Haha… Funny thought, huh?”
Freya stared at her blankly for a moment… “…I hate irony…” ____________________________________
Amerlynn wrenched her hands in her lap. “Oh my… I had no idea the situation was so dire this entire time…” If I were… “It’s my fault… I should have been helping more…”
Freya stood. “How does it feel…? Now that you know so many are dead because you weren’t there…?”
“What!?” Siewyn shouted. “H-hey! You can’t blame her for this! She was doing what she was supposed to be doing! Nothing that happened is her fault!”
Amerlynn was shocked… N-no… Siewyn… She’s right… I should have done something…
“Does it matter?” Freya asked. “If she had been aware of the situation, would it have mattered one way or the other? The important thing is, that now she knows what’s at stake. So then,” she said, turning to Amerlynn, “scholar… What will you do now?”
“I-I… I…”
“Well, what is it?” Freya growled. “Lives are at stake here. If you’re going to hesitate, you may as well lock yourself in your tower and bury your head in a book, because you’re not helping by stuttering.”
Amerlynn swallowed, raising her head indignantly. “I… I want to help!”
A cunning smile spread across Freya’s face. “Good girl. Now, we’ll need a plan to survive the night. You must understand, however… The undead are not like us. They cannot be ‘killed’ so as easily as we can, and they will not tire. They have the advantage in that regard, as well as numbers. However… We possess one thing they do not.”
“Well? What’s that then?” Siewyn asked.
“Martial prowess… The undead are fierce opponents, but their minds are typically empty. They’re nothing more than shells controlled by a solitary being. I don’t entertain any belief of being able to slay whatever lich or monster is controlling them in the battle, but due to their nature, they lack the skill in arms which I possess. I can confront any one of them in combat and win without any difficulty. Only the most powerful of wights possess any amount of skill with a blade. It is their numbers which present a problem. I won’t be able to defeat all of them before they swarm me.”
“Stop, stop, stop!” Paugo shouted. “Now just hold on there… Call me a crazy halfling if you like, but it sounds as though you’re suggesting fighting this army of the dead yourself.”
“If you’ve another option, I would dearly love to hear it,” Freya answered angrily. Leaning over the hobbit, she added, “Or did you intend to stand by my side in defending our lives?”
Paugo paled slightly, shrinking back in his chair. “N-no… No, I just wanted to wish you luck with that…”
“Right…” Freya smirked in satisfaction. “As I was saying, though they do possess the advantage of numbers, their numbers are not of themselves inexhaustible. Even the undead have limited armies. Therefore, our only clear option is to devise a plan that would allow us to either eliminate a great number of them at once, or to scatter them. I can deal with those that remain.”
To deal with so many… Is it even possible? Amerlynn gasped as an idea came to her head. But that’s… No… That’s too dangerous… But… “Uhm…” she began timidly, “I… might have an idea.”
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Post by amerlynn on Oct 25, 2009 17:04:48 GMT -5
Chapter 3: The Mithril Spear
Darkness crept over the abbey. Freya solemnly stood outside the large wooden doors, which had been haphazardly patched with spare planks of wood. Freya knew it would not hold up to an assault…
Freya could see Amerlynn rushing toward her from the dark. When she finally reached Freya at the door, she was completely out of breath, supporting herself with her hands to her knees, and gasping for breath. “Well,” Freya asked coldly, “is everything prepared?”
Amerlynn raised her head with a nod. “Y-… Yes… Eve-… Everything is… *gasp*… Ready...”
“Good,” Freya said, lifting her spear and shield from the wall next to her. “In that case, return to your tower and await my signal.”
Amerlynn nodded, then stumbling through the open door and making her way to her tower. Immediately afterward, Siewyn came outside, and asked, “Are you sure about this? You hardly got any sleep at all. You must be exhausted.”
Freya shook her head, but allowed her eyes to close for a moment. After Amerlynn had explained her plan, Freya had retired to a bed on the second floor, resting for the evening. Even so, she couldn’t have slept for longer than five hours. It wasn’t nearly enough to be comfortable… but as a warrior, Freya knew it would be enough. It had to be… The alternative was far too grim. “It’s fine… I’m used to these conditions…”
Siewyn frowned, examining Freya’s face. Freya realized she must look exhausted. She huffed, cracking her neck with a smirk. “I’ll be fine… The scholar’s plan is a good one.”
Siewyn’s expression did not change with this assurance. “Still… It doesn’t seem right that you’re going out there alone.”
Freya shrugged. “The plan requires a level of physical ability which none of you possess… save perhaps Destin. And he’s in no condition to help. If you leave the abbey you’ll only be putting yourself in danger… and everyone else.”
Siewyn huffed, as though she were about to protest, but said nothing, instead clenching her fist.
“By the way…” Freya began. “Where’s Abbot? He should be awake in case he’s needed.”
“He woke up a few minutes ago. He should be in the chapel now.”
Freya smirked through pursed lips. “Well… That’s appropriate… We’ll need any blessing we can get.” As soon as she finished her sentence, a sound arose from within the abbey, echoing out throughout the forest beyond. It was a song… and one familiar to Freya. “What…? What is that?”
Siewyn turned back toward the chapel. “It’s Abbot…”
“He’s playing a song…?” It wasn’t until this very moment that Freya was able to realize that the song itself was actually the music of a pipe organ.
Siewyn nodded. “He has every night, even since before the wights began attacking. Ever since they appeared though, he’s been playing all through the night.”
So that’s it… “What’s the song?”
Siewyn shook her head. “I don’t know what it’s called, but… Abbot said it was a tradition here. I remember the old abbot played the organ every night as well.”
“So you were here even before Abbot?”
“Yeah… I’ve lived at the abbey for years now.” Siewyn turned to the floor. She looked as though she were recalling something she had nearly forgotten. “I remember… My parents thought I was too… free willed… They thought I needed to learn to be more humble… More like a lady… So, they sent me here.”
Freya glanced at Siewyn for a second before turning toward the yard. “That must have angered you… Too be cast out by your parents like that.”
“It… It’s not like they abandoned me!” Siewyn insisted quickly. “They just… Well…”
“So… Are you happy here?”
Siewyn looked at Freya for a moment, and then said with a smile, “I am. …I wasn’t at first, but everyone’s always been so kind to me. I think I know now why my parents thought this place would be good for me.”
“Really?” Freya asked, glancing at Siewyn for a moment. She then holstered her spear over her back, lifting up a burning torch attached to a long pole and moving out into the yard. With a smile she called back to Siewyn, “In that case, I am happy for you… But you might not wish to write home about this little detail.”
As Freya calmly walked into the darkness, she could hear Siewyn enter the abbey, baring and locking the door after her. She heard Paugo within its walls comment, “We’re all gonna die, you know…? That lunatic’s just too stupid to realize it.”
Freya scowled, but kept stride. Perhaps if just one wight were to get through, that wouldn’t be so bad… She smiled at the thought, but dismissed it. After all, there was no guarantee Paugo would gain the creature’s enmity. In fact, given his nature, it was highly doubtful.
Freya continued on into the dark, carefully watching her feet and the ground before her. Once she reached the middle of the open area between the abbey and the forest, she stopped. Here it is… She slammed the shaft of the torch, burying it into the ground, being careful not to allow the embers of its burning flame to fall. The sky was clouded, blocking out the moon, so the only light all around was the burning torch.
Freya drew out her spear, and sat on the ground next to the torch. She tried not to think about what she was doing. After all, she was in the middle of a clearing waiting for an army of the dead under a beacon on a moonless night. There was every reason to be frightened, and in truth, Freya quivered slightly from the cold and anticipation. This is the part I hate… The waiting.
Freya sat patiently. She cherished this moment of peace in spite of her discomfort, as it gave her time to rest. Once the battle began, it was doubtful she would receive another chance. And so she waited, accompanied only by the eerie song of the abbot’s old organ.
Over an hour passed. Freya sat half-asleep next to her torch when she first noticed them. Naturally, the darkness veiled them from her sight, and they were still too far away to hear the shuffling and cries as they made their way through the forest. No, what Freya noticed was the smell. The putrid stench of rot, and decay… The scent of the undead. It would not be long now.
Freya checked her sword. It was free in the hilt, and could be easily drawn should she need it. Lifting her spear, and gripping her shield, she brought herself to her feet. She could hear them now… and the scent was even worse. It was almost overpowering. Freya began to wonder if it was an oversight on her part not to account for the smell.
Suddenly Freya heard a whistling sound through the trees. Looking up, she could just barely make out several thin objects in the sky. Some of the wights were equipped with bows! Damn it! I can’t see… How many? She raised her shield, crouching behind it. A volley of arrows clattered against her shield, while others struck the ground. One of them grazed her shoulder. Freya cursed. I can’t be wounded already! This is bad…
The wound itself was little more than a cut; nothing that should concern even a child. However, it was not the injury which worried Freya. Wights are putrid, and disgusting creatures. If the arrow had not been poisoned, it was still very likely riddled with disease. If it was, Freya knew she would likely be in danger, even if she survived the night.
Freya lowered her shield. Four arrows were lodged into it. Quickly examining her surroundings, Freya counted. Eight… Possibly nine or ten… Eleven maybe? They’re organized… I can’t evade this spread. If I lose my shield in this fight I’m in trouble.
Raising her spear, Freya broke the shafts of the arrows still within her shield. As experienced as she is with her equipment, she could still feel the extra weight of the arrowheads, but it was negligible. It shouldn’t affect her. She then raised her spear to her shoulder, cutting it along the wound from the arrow. She hoped to bleed out any possible infection.
Another volley flew through the trees. This time, Freya was able to check herself, and avoided injury. Two more arrows clattered into her shield, and there shafts were soon broken.
Then Freya saw them… Rotting and mummified; a gathering of flies overhead. She gagged, stifling her breathing. With a roar, the wights broke through into the light. They were even closer than Freya had anticipated, and she quickly raised her defenses.
Three of the wights were slightly ahead of the others. One of them leapt through the air, raising its sword above its head with a piercing cry. Freya gripped her spear and lunged out with it, allowing her spear to fly slightly before she deftly grasped the end of the hilt, holding the weapon at its full length. The creature was surprised by this maneuver, impaling its own skull against the weapon, its sword clattering to the ground.
Freya tore her spear from the wight’s skull with a sickening cracking sound. Gripping the weapon midway up the shaft, she spun around, stepping quickly to the side and striking the second wight across the chest with a backhand swing. It staggered at the wound, but didn’t fall. Freya followed through, denting the creature’s skull with the side of her shield. It fell without another sound.
Quickly turning again, Freya deflected a blow from the third wight to the side with her spear. With a violent kick, she struck the creature’s knee, actually severing it’s loosely attached leg. The wight fell, to one knee, but still raised its arm to attack. Not giving it time to finish its swing however, Freya pierced its shoulder with her spear, severing its arm. The creature still persisted, roaring and biting at Freya. With another kick, she knocked the wight backward, and crushed its skull with the blunt end of her spear.
It’s time… Freya saw the other wights nearing her position. Rather than face them and risk being surrounded, she turned and fled back toward the abbey. To her surprise, she saw several wights already ahead of her. They had completely ignored her presence and were headed straight for the abbey!
Damn! I can’t let them reach the abbey… It’s too risky to fight so close to it. “Amerlynn!” Freya shouted at the top of her lungs. “Amerlynn; do it now!” ______________________________
Amerlynn leaned out her tower window. She could just barely make out Freya’s shouting. “Amerlynn! Amerlynn; do it now!”
But… It’s not time yet… “I-I… I can’t!” Amerlynn shouted. “You’re not clear yet!”
Amerlynn saw Freya jump over an obstacle in her path, but from her distance she couldn’t see what it was. Of course… she already knew… She was the one who put it there. Freya shouted in a harsh voice. “Amerlynn! Do it now, or I swear to all that is good an holy in this world that I will come back and eat your brain!”
Amerlynn stared down at her, suddenly forgetting the urgency of the situation. “That’s… an extremely blasphemous thing to say…” she whispered under her breath.
“Amerlynn!” came a sharp howl.
Amerlynn jumped, suddenly recalling her senses. “R-right! I’m going!” She turned from her window and hurried to the fireplace. It was still burning brightly. Taking a breath, Amerlynn reached into the fire. Although the flame licked her skin, she did not burn. It actually… tickled, slightly… She lifted a small amount of charred pitch from the fire and hurried to her window.
“Please… Save her…!” she whispered. ______________________________
Freya saw Amerlynn return to her window, and a moment later a burning flame was hurled from the window. It did not arc through the air, but instead hurtled directly for its target, seemingly of its own power. The flame struck the base of the torch Freya had planted in the ground. Sparks shot up from where the flame had landed, quickly zipping out in all directions, weaving through the swarms of undead which threatened to trample them.
Suddenly, one of the sparks disappeared within a swarm of wights, and a great explosion arose. Freya could feel a slight tremor from the blast. She kept running as blast after blast arose behind her, growing nearer. Suddenly, mounds of dirt were blasting off to either side of her, as Freya strained herself to anticipate and avoid them. A series of explosions erupted in front of her, lifting the wights that had gotten past her off the ground, and tearing apart their bodies.
The explosions had not ended yet however, and were only intensifying. Clouds of fire and dirt arose all around her, each blast feeling like a closer call than the last. Freya suddenly heard a crackling sound, nearer than she had expected. She looked down to see a trail of sparks weaving between her feet. It suddenly spun ahead, and Freya saw a small mound of dirt directly in its path. “Ah!” she cried out, raising her shield before her. An explosion arose from the mound in front of her, the blast wrenching her arm and slamming her shield into her. Freya staggered back but somehow managed to remain standing. She was about to breath a sigh of relief when a second explosion arose from just behind her. Letting out a cry, Freya was sent flying through the air as the flames of the explosion scorched her.
Thudding to the scorched ground before her, Freya lifted her head with difficulty. Her vision was temporarily blurred by the shock and heat of the blast. Strands of hair fell in front of her face, the bun she normally kept her hair in having been scorched. “Gah-ah!” she cried out, feeling a stinging pain in her sword-arm. The cloth of her upper arm had been torn asunder in the blast, and her arm burned painfully. The lower part of her arm however, below the elbow had been shielded by a leather bracer, and while the bracer itself was blackened and scorched, it remained intact, and had protected the flesh beneath it from the flame. Surprisingly, Freya was somewhat thankful for the burn. It had cauterized the wound on her shoulder, and likely scorched any contaminants as well.
Struggling to her feet, Freya moaned as an aching pain fell over her. The air stank of smoke and burning flesh, and yet again she wondered if perhaps she had made an oversight regarding the stench. She gagged, almost loosing what little there was in her stomach. She was however, thankful to have survived.
Looking around her, Freya could see the bodies and bones of the many wights that had been caught in the explosions. And yet, she heard more still beyond the reach of the blast, and others had been fortunate as she was, to have escaped destruction in the flames. Several wights moved over the blasted grounds, making their way toward her, and she knew she would not yet be able to rest easily.
Gritting her teeth to the pain of her burns, Freya brandished her spear, and raised her shield before her. She knew she had to finish off the wights that had survived the explosions before they were joined by the ones that were beyond. Now was the time to attack! Shouting a battle cry, she charged into the darkness. __________________________________
Thank goodness…
Amerlynn felt almost as though she would cry, and finally allowed herself to breath, realizing she had neglected to these past few moments. The spear-maiden was alive. “Oh, thank goodness…” _____________________________
“Is… Is it over…?” Paugo quivered, clutching a kitchen knife in his hands.
No answer came. The brothers stood near the chapel doors, stoic, but even Paugo knew they were nervous. Destin was awake, staring grimly at the ceiling from beneath his blankets on the floor. And as for Siewyn, Paugo doubted the girl had even heard him. She sat against the wall, wide-eyed and shaking, her breathing erratic and short.
“Well…” Paugo began, swallowing. “I-I guess… we’ll just wait, and see…” _______________________________
Behind!
Freya spun around, striking another wight down with the blunt of her spear. It squirmed on the ground, crying out it as it tried to regain its footing. Freya struck her spear through the creatures gaping maw. With a violent flick of her spear, she removed the wight’s skull from its jaw.
Freya panted, her entire body rising and falling slightly with each breath. Her vision hadn’t cleared yet, and her arms and legs were beginning to feel heavy. Damn… I’m more jolted than I thought…
Suddenly she looked up. Another volley of arrows flew through the air. Freya was about to raise her shield, when the glint of steel caught her eye. She turned her shield to the right, just barely blocking the blow of a wight’s sword. Another one? “Ah!” Freya cried out in surprise. Another wight suddenly appeared to her left, and again she just barely managed to block its attack with her shield. Staggering backward, she saw the rest of them. The last of the wight foot soldiers were upon her… and they threatened to swarm her with their numbers. No… Not now!
Blow after blow, it was all Freya could do to block their attacks. Time was running short, and the arrows would soon strike her down. If she raised her shield to the arrows she would fall by the blade of a wight. Her only hope was to force a reckless attack to gain some distance at the last second, giving her a single moment to raise her shield to the arrows. But performing such an attack would leave her open to counter from the wights. She had to get it perfectly.
This was not a situation Freya was prepared for. No mortal army would ever use such a tactic, as their arrows would fell more of their own men, but the wights were different. Their bodies were merely decayed skin and bones. An arrow would have no effect on them, merely passing through their ribs. It was an impossible situation…
With a cry, Freya quickly struck forward behind her shield, lashing out with her spear. The wights retreated from her shield, and blocked her spear. Good! Jumping back, Freya moved to raise her shield. But the wights were not so easily deterred, striking forward again immediately. Freya was forced to lower her shield to address their attack. No!
Freya scolded herself. Wights know no fear… Of course such a tactic was pointless… And now, it was too late for her to apprehend the arrows. She braced herself for their impact.
Just then, Freya felt a gust of wind blow through her hair. Glancing up, she saw the arrows deviate from their course, falling directly downward. Several wights fell as the arrows pierced through their skulls from above. Not wasting her opportunity, Freya rushed forward behind her shield again. She felt the weight of a wights sword against it as she slammed into it. This time, she swiped with her shield to the right, cracking a wights bones as she did. Then spinning full circle, she swung her spear in a sweeping arc, cleaving the brittle bones of two more wights to pieces.
Having cleared the wights closest to her, Freya glanced over her shoulder to see Amerlynn waving to her from her tower. The scholar… She saved me! Freya couldn’t help but to smile.
Ignoring the pain of her burned arm, Freya deftly flourished her spear in hand, stepping toward the wights and then turning, preparing for a strong blow from her spear. At the last moment, her movement shifted. Freya flung herself forward, slamming into a nearby wight with her shield, and tackling it to the ground. Rolling to her feet, Freya found herself surrounded by wights. Turning full circle once again, she arced her spear behind her, aiming for the wights that were now between her and the abbey. She severed the sword arm of the first wight, but the second blocked her attack. Immediately Freya swung her spear back the way it had come, severing the maimed wight’s other arm. The sweep of her spear also caused several other wights to dodge back to avoid being hit. The sweep came around full circle, once again being blocked by the same wight as before. The others that had dodged were now preparing to strike at Freya. Leaning into the wight which had blocked her spear, she struck into it with the broad of her shield, driving it to the ground beneath her weight. She could hear cracking of bone beneath her shield as she rolled over the wight, bringing herself to her feet outside the ring of undead. She ran away from her opponents, toward the abbey.
After having gained sufficient distance from the crowd of wights, she turned to face them once again. Freya shook her head. Damn… Not now… “Agh…” A dull pain was beginning to fill her skull. Blank spots distorted her vision, and no matter how often she blinked, they would always return. If this keeps up, I won’t be able to concentrate on the battle…
Freya had no further time to consider her situation however, as the wights were once again upon her. A wight appeared to the left, almost taking her by surprise. Quickly raising her shield, she blocked a blow from the wight’s sword. The impact was stronger than she anticipated, staggering her. Her head rang out with a striking pain as the impact jolted her. With a resolved expression, Freya growled as she raised her shield, bashing it against the wight’s body, toppling it over. The blow wasn’t enough to deal significant damage however, and Freya knew it would soon be at its feet. She attempted to follow through with her spear, attempting to crush the creature’s skull, but the wight disappeared within the blurs of her vision, and the blunt of Freya’s spear fell upon the grass next to the creature instead.
Realizing her error, Freya tried to retreat back, but her movements were clumsy, and unbalanced. As another wight attacked, it was all she could do but to bat its sword away with her spear. With a gasp, Freya lost her footing, tumbling to the ground on her back. Her head rang out with pain as she struck the ground. “Agh!”
Gritting her teeth and looking up through slanted eyes, she could see the wights beginning to surround her. One of them stood over her with its sword raised. Surprised, Freya frantically raised her shield before her, the heavy swing striking against the hard wooden shield with a clang as it hit one of the metal bindings. With a cry, Freya kicked upward, catching the wight between the legs and hurling it over her, onto its back.
As two more wights raised their weapons to attack, Freya lashed out with her spear, severing the leg of one causing it to stumble to the ground, and blocking the other with her shield. Rolling toward the second wight, she stuck upward with her spear, piercing its skull from beneath its jaw. The unholy energy animating the fiend released, and the dead weight of its form fell against her spear. Struggling with all of her might, Freya cast the corpse to the side and struggled to her feet.
Taking a burdened breath, Freya suddenly felt a sharp pain searing across her back. Letting out a cry, she stumbled forward, falling to her hands and knees. Blood trickled to the ground from a fresh wound on her lower back, as well as falling from the blade of a wight. She began to feel lightheaded, and with a cry called upon the last reserves of her strength. Suddenly on her feet again, she spun around, slashing the wight which had wounded her from its skull to its crotch, watching with a grim satisfaction as it fell in two separate directions.
Crying out in a rage, Freya lashed out at each wight near her. If you’ll see me fall… Three wights fell to her assault. Two others inflicted light wounds to Freya’s already scorched sword arm, and the side of her lower torso. …then… I’ll see two score more fall with me!
Tears of rage and pain ran down the Freya’s face. I… I am a soldier… Shouting out, Freya cleaved the two wights that had wounded her in twain. It is my duty… A sword pierced her already bleeding side. Freya swung her shield behind her, removing her attacker’s head with its rim. …to protect… Everyone!
Gripping her spear firmly, midway up the shaft, Freya lunged forward, impaling a wight through its ribs. To her surprise, the creature actually glanced down at the weapon protruding its chest, then turning to her with what seemed like laughter. Freya scowled. “Oh… I hate wights…”
The wight screeched, lashing out at Freya with its bony, but unarmed hands. Freya wrenched her spear, tossing it and the wight to the side. Quickly drawing her sword, Freya moved to swing, but her arm was caught by another unarmed wight from behind. Caught by surprise, Freya was unable to react as her arm was painfully wrenched backward, pulling her to the ground.
As she was about to raise her shield to try to bash the wight that had grappled her, the wight with her spear through its chest stomped down, crushing her arm under its boot. Caught between the rim of her shield and the iron boot of her foe, Freya could hear the sickening sound of bone being shattered. She screamed.
Waves of pain began to wash over her. Gritting her teeth, Freya struggled to remain conscious. The incredible pain however, threatened to soon consume her. Held down by her attackers, Freya could make out the blurred shape of a wight carrying what seemed to be a maul. It loomed over her, cackling as it raised the weapon above its head. Freya didn’t blink, nor did she look aware. She glared up at the monster before her without fear.
Struggling to stay conscious long enough to die with dignity, Freya was consumed by a brilliant light. _______________________
Siewyn cringed, covering her ears. She could hear the spear-maiden crying out as she charged her enemies. The clangs of battle rang out from outside, and though she was ashamed, Siewyn was afraid.
Make it stop… Please, make it stop…!
The sound of footfalls rose from the stairs, and a moment later, Siewyn looked up to see Amerlynn frantically rush to the floor. Paying no mind to the others, the scholar began to remove the plank barring the door.
“Whoa! Hey!” Paugo shouted. “What do you think you’re doing!”
“She’s in danger!” came Amerlynn’s reply. “She needs help!”
“From you!?” Paugo scoffed. “You actually think you’re going out there? What can you do!?”
Amerlynn turned to Paugo. To Siewyn’s amazement, her expressions was one of complete resolve, and courage. She didn’t hesitate at all. Siewyn had never seen her act this way.
Amerlynn glared, answering, “I can try.” Without wasting another moment, she forced the door open, running outside. Siewyn continued to stare after her in amazement, and a moment later, Amir and Bomir followed after, carrying staves.
Most surprising of all was when Paugo appeared at the door. “Wh-…What are you doing!?” Siewyn stuttered.
“What’s it look like I’m doing? I’m barring the door.”
“What!?”
“Hey, don’t judge me!” Paugo retorted with a whine. “I look like I wanna die?”
Siewyn couldn’t help but to clench her fist, for a moment even forgetting the danger before her. “You can’t do that!”
Paugo let out a groan. “Yeah… You’re right… Help me out with this thing, would you? It’s too heavy for me,” he said, gesturing to the wooden plank which he had been trying to lift.
“Are you insane!? I’m not helping you!” Siewyn shouted. She was actually insulted by the suggestion. “Those people out there are trying to save us! You can’t just abandon them!”
Paugo snorted. “Oh-ho! What’s this then? Little Miss Priss, suddenly got it in her head to act all noble? Ha! That’s a story!”
“Wh-… What…?” Siewyn asked slowly.
“Hmph… Don’t tell me you’re that naïve… Listen girly, and I’ll explain it nicely. People like that… out there, they’re a different breed than us. They can risk their lives fighting the freakin’ forces o’ shadow because they ain’t got nothin’ better to live for. You and I? We’ve got what you’d call fate.”
“…Fate…?”
“Yes’m! Fate! As in a grand destiny anointed from above. We’ve something greater to live for and they don’t. So just let em waste their lives away protectin’ us. It’s what they’re good for anyway.”
Siewyn was shocked to hear such a thing. She knew Paugo was always self-concerned, but this seemed to go to an extreme she never imagined. “How can you say that? We’re no different from anyone!”
Paugo shook his head. “Don’t be so stupid… You may be nobility, but you ain’t noble. That’s just a fact, and something I’d call common decency. Just sit back and enjoy it. Now are you going to help me or not.”
Siewyn turned to the floor before her, staring solemnly for a moment. Am I just… a noble…? Then she looked up, quite suddenly. In fact, the sudden movement actually caused Paugo to jump slightly. That’s it… Rising to her feet, Siewyn ran to Destin’s side. His swords were lain out next to him. He was unconscious, which was probably for the best. Taking one of his swords from his sheath, she rushed toward the door.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Paugo shouted. “What do you think you’re doing!?”
Siewyn stopped for a moment, looking him straight in the eyes. Her expression seemed to unbalance him slightly. She smiled at him. “I’m very sorry to disappoint you.” She then stepped past him through the door.
“What…? What are you….?”
“You didn’t want me to say it… But I really am that naïve. And you know what…? I don’t care.” With that, Siewyn rushed out after Amerlynn and the others. ________________________________
Amerlynn ran as quickly as she could. She heard footfalls behind her. Amir and Bomir no doubt. Ahead she saw the spear-maiden release her spear, which had been struck into a wight’s chest. She drew her sword quickly, but she didn’t see the wight behind her. “Look out!” Amerlynn shouted. But her shouts were unheard, and the wight had grabbed the spear-maiden’s arm before her sword had ever been used. Before Amerlynn could even comprehend the situation, the spear-maiden was pulled to the ground, and to her horror, Amerlynn saw a large, lumbering wight carrying a maul approach.
Frantic, Amerlynn reached into the pouch at her hip. Due to the bag’s enchantment, she was able to quickly find the object she needed. Drawing out the emblem of the church, she quickly uttered a prayer. Her hand began to feel warm around the object. Not hot… but warm. Soothing even. As she drew nearer, the large wight raised its maul above his head. “Get away from her!” Amerlynn shouted. As she spoke, the object in her hand erupted in a brilliant light, shining out all around. The wights cried out in pain, fleeing in terror. Some of them were even consumed by the light, falling as the lifeless heaps they were.
This was not a technique Amerlynn had ever attempted before, and she herself was even surprised it had worked at all. To her amazement, even though the light coming from the object was far more brilliant and pure than the light of day itself, she was not blinded by it. She was aware of it, and knew that she should be, but it did not hinder her in any way.
Finally, Amerlynn reached the shield-maiden. The woman seemed to barely be holding onto the last of her consciousness, her eyes staring blankly but not yet empty. Amir and Bomir approached. “Take her! Get back to the abbey!” she called to them. The brothers obliged, each moving to lift the spear-maiden, but stopped suddenly when she cried out in pain. Realizing the cause, Amir quickly removed the shield from her arm, and once again the brothers lifted her in their arms. She cried out again, but this was to be expected. The woman’s blood began to soak into their brown robes.
Just as Amerlynn began to relax, the light in her hand went out. “Uh-… Uh oh!” As soon as the light was quenched, the wights turned, and once again began to charge the abbey. Amerlynn turned to follow the brothers. To her chagrin however, she found that the weight of the spear-maiden slowed their retreat greatly. In spite of her lack of athletic ability, Amerlynn had soon caught up to them.
“Amerlynn!” a voice cried out.
Looking up, Amerlynn saw Siewyn coming toward them with a sword in hand. “What are you doing!?” Amerlynn shouted in concern. “Get back inside!”
“No! I’m going to help you.”
Amerlynn frowned. Siewyn… Don’t you realize that you… “There’s nothing you can do here!”
Siewyn finally reached them. “I don’t care! It’s not fair that you all risk your lives for us! I need to help too!”
Amerlynn shook her head, but smiled slightly. Oh, Siewyn… You really have changed… She nodded reassuringly to the woman. But… We need to do something… We won’t last the night if they wights aren’t delayed somehow… But we can’t possibly continue fighting them… There has to be something… Amerlynn glanced at the spear-maiden. She looked dreadful. Her arm and shoulder were burned, her other arm bleeding, there was a horrible gash across the lower part of her back along with a piercing wound in her side. Her hair was scorched, and while it had previously always been well kept in a tight, official looking netted bun, it was now drapped across her face, soaked in sweat and covered in bone dust. Wait… Bone dust…? …That’s it!
Suddenly Amerlynn’s thoughts were interrupted by a shout from Siewyn. “Look out!”
Quickly glancing over her shoulder, Amerlynn saw that the large wight had caught up to her. She leapt to the side as its maul crashed to the ground. The brothers hesitated in their retreat for a moment. “Go!” Amerlynn shouted. “I’ll take care of this!” The brothers obliged, and Amerlynn faced the large wight.
Reaching into her pouch, Amerlynn pulled out a handful of ash. Leaping back to avoid a sweeping swing from the wight’s maul, she through the ash into the air around the wight. As she gained her footing, she held out her hand. With a snap of her fingers, the ash ignited, bursting with several small explosions around the wight. The creature cried out. As the smoke cleared however, it revealed the wight to be unharmed. “Darn!”
“Haaaaa!” Siewyn let out a shout as she raised the sword she carried with both hands. She swung it down at the wight, but was blocked by its maul. Her sword now locked against its weapon, she grit her teeth as she pressed against it with all her strength.
“Get back!” Amerlynn shouted. But it was too late… Without even the slightest effort, the wight swung its weapon against Siewyn. It did not strike her, but force against her blade was enough to send such an unskilled fighter to the ground.
Dashing forward, Amerlynn gripped her staff with both hands near the end, swinging it from the side. She struck the wights ribs, but the wooden staff simply bounced off, seemingly ineffective. Angered, the wight swung its maul in an arc. Amerlynn was too close now to evade back, and instead quickly ducked. The maul passed nearly over her head. As the wight recovered from its swing, Amerlynn rose, jutting her staff upward. She struck the wight in its jaw, and seemed to stun it for a moment. However, with a quick shake of its head, the wight reached out, grabbing Amerlynn by the collar of her robes and lifting her off the ground.
Amerlynn unconsciously dropped her staff as she was lifted up. She frantically grasped at the wight’s powerful arm, trying desperately to free herself. As she did, she noticed a shadow over the wight’s shoulder… Suddenly the monster shuddered, dropping Amerlynn who fell on her rear. Recovering from the shock, she just barely had time to get out of the way before the creature’s massive form toppled forward. The shadow which had appeared over its shoulder tumbled forward, and both Amerlynn and Siewyn were shocked by what they saw.
“Paugo!?” Siewyn shouted in shrill surprise.
Paugo sat up after having fallen on his belly when the wight tumbled over. The kitchen knife he had been clutching in the entranceway was now lodged into the back of the wight’s skull. “Yeah, so what?”
“I… I just, can’t believe it…” Siewyn answered, still looking astounded.
Paugo cocked an eyebrow to her. “Now, don’t get the wrong idea missy… I just need one of you alive to bar the door.”
Siewyn stared slack-jawed at the pot-bellied little hobbit. Eventually she came to terms with the situation, smiling with a shake of her head. “Yeah, sure… Whatever… You’re really just a big softie, aren’t you?”
“Oh… shut up!” Paugo seemed to turn a slight shade of red at the suggestion. “Now, come on then! Let’s go before more of these nasties arrive!”
“I agree,” Amerlynn said taking Siewyn’s sword from her. “But first there’s something I need.” Stepping past Paugo, she proceeded to hack at the wights remains with her sword, until she had severed the creature’s rib cage from the rest of it.
Paugo blinked. “What in the world are you doing?”
Amerlynn handed the sword back to Siewyn, then lifting the rib cage over her shoulder. “I’ll explain later. Now let’s go!”
Soon, the trio had reached the abbey. In fact, they arrived just as the brothers did. As they all entered inside, Siewyn and Amerlynn barred the door shut behind them. Turning, Amerlynn explained, “Quickly… These doors won’t hold them for long. Amir, Bomir. The two of you take the spear-maiden to my study. Once you’ve done so, return for Sir Destin, and take him as well. Paugo… Fetch Abbot, and tell him to cease his organ grinding and join the others in my study. Siewyn; hurry up ahead and clear space for Destin, and the spear-maiden. Don’t mind where you put the books. Just clear room.”
“What about you?” Siewyn asked.
“I’m going to prepare our defenses… Now there isn’t much time. Hurry on! And don’t wait for me. Bar the door once you’re all inside. Don’t worry about me. I’ll join you shortly. If I succeed, I will simply knock and you can safely allow me in.”
“But… What exactly are you going to do?” Siewyn persisted.
“There’s no time for questions. Now everyone hurry!” And with that finality, everyone hurried to their assigned tasks. Amerlynn drew out her dagger, and began using the pommel to begin grinding the bones of the ribs she had brought with her into a powder. She could hear the banging, and scratching of the wights at the door. Time was indeed short.
In a short amount of time, Paugo and Abbot passed by on their way to the study. Amerlynn couldn’t help but to be relieved. Finally… I thought surely that dreadful music would drive me to madness… A few minutes later, Amerlynn decided she had enough bone dust for her purposes. Gathering it up, she began to spread it in a rough circle around the narrow of the staircase. Once that was finished, she positioned herself on the stairs above the circle, and began to speak the words of power necessary to complete her spell.
The wights finally broke through, and began filing into the entranceway. Amerlynn was just completing her spell. “…and protect the innocent from the maw of death… The wicked… The harrowed will not spill blood this day… Pray now! The damned… shall not pass!” As the final words were spoken, a wight leapt through the air, lashing out with its bare hands, seemingly undeterred by the spear protruding its ribs. As it passed over the circle, Amerlynn spoke the final words. A brilliant flash rose up, and with a cry the wight turned to dust before her eyes. With a clang, the spear fell upon the stairs, in the center of the circle. The other wights stood at the edge of the circle, growling and gnashing their teeth. They could not pass… lest they suffer the same fate.
With absolute calm, Amerlynn lifted the spear from the circle, and stood up. She looked out over the undead before her, without fear. Without hesitation, she walked up the stairs. _____________________________
Everyone jump when they heard the knock. Three sharp raps against the door. Amerlynn assured them from the other side that all was well.
Siewyn unbarred the door, allowing her in, and was surprised to see that she now carried the spear-maiden’s weapon. While indeed curious, Siewyn decided it best to leave such questions for another day. Paugo, however, lacked such restraint… “Where’d the spear come from?”
Amerlynn held out the spear in one hand. “The first wight ‘bore’ it…”
Paugo’s eyes widened. “Y-you mean… They’re here?”
“Not to worry,” Amerlynn said with an assuring smile. “I have prepared a ward to bar their path. It is not permanent, but it will last long enough. The danger is passed, for tonight.”
Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. “Truly,” began Abbot. “It is a miracle… You have my gratitude Scholar. Without you and the spear-maiden, we would surely be lost this night.”
Amerlynn glanced at the spear, thoughtfully. “This weapon… It truly is amazing.” She tossed it up slightly, catching it easily. “Its so light… And this silver color… Could it actually be made of mithril?”
“He is mithril…” came a hoarse voice from the back of the room. Everyone turned to see the spear-maiden. Her wounds were as of yet unattended, but she spoke with miraculous clarity. Siewyn couldn’t help but to admire the woman’s strength of will.
Paugo scoffed in the corner. “He? …He your lover too?”
Siewyn thought for sure this would warrant at least a dirty look, but to her surprise, the spear-maiden made no reaction at all. Instead her expression remained unchanged, and she answered, “He is my protector… My truest friend… And he has a name…”
Everyone was somehow captivated. Each word she spoke seemed the answer to a great riddle. She raised her eyes to the room. “Galadbolg. He is the radiance which protects me… and pierces the darkness.”
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Post by amerlynn on Oct 25, 2009 17:05:38 GMT -5
Chapter 4: The Shadow of Despair, And the End of Life
One more day…
Freya sat beside the window, as Amerlynn did her best to clean her wounds. With a heavy sigh, the scholar wiped sweat from her brow, but smiled with a satisfied giggle. Quickly returning herself to a grim countenance, she said, “Alright… M’lady… I’m ready to begin sewing the wound shut. If… you would like to lie down, I…”
“I’m fine…” Freya interrupted.
Amerlynn stared at her with concern. “B-but… I-I need to use a hot needle, a-and…”
“It’s alright…” Freya insisted. “I would do it myself if I could reach.”
Amerlynn turned pale. “Y-yes! ….Uh… A-alright…” She then lifted a needle, and brought it to the fire, holding it close enough to heat but without searing her fingers. A moment later she returned, and gently placed her hand on Freya’s back.
Freya turned away from the window for a moment, glancing across the room. Abbot, and the brothers had fallen asleep, Abbot in the bed, while the brothers were each sitting against a wall, their hoods pulled over their heads. Siewyn and Paugo were both still awake, Siewyn watching Amerlynn work with only mild discomfort as she sat upon Paugo’s back, a stack of books blocking his view to ensure he did not look the wrong way. Paugo of course squirmed about, trying to free himself in vane, frequently making muffled remarks concerning how such measures were unnecessary. Freya had learned to drown him out.
Freya again returned her gaze to the window. She could see the wights moving about far below. With a shock, Freya realized there was a pattern to their movements. “Ah! Damn it…” She cursed.
Suddenly she felt a sudden jerk behind her. “Ah-ah! I-I-I’m sorry!” Amerlynn shouted.
Freya glanced over her shoulder with a calm expression. She hadn’t even noticed when Amerlynn had begun, but she looked nervous. Freya’s sudden shout must have frightened her. “It’s alright… Continue on… It’s just…” Freya turned grimly to the window.
“The wights…?” Amerlynn asked, slowly.
Freya nodded. “They’re clearing the field. Removing all the corpses, and weapons.”
Amerlynn swallowed. She likely would have become even paler if it were possible. “Y-you don’t think… Th-they could bring them back…?”
Freya shook her head. “Wights have very limited requirements. If you deal enough damage to put them down once, they stay down. There’s just nothing left for them to animate. But you said you used bone dust to create that ward.”
“Yes. That is correct… But why does that matter.”
“Obviously… I was thinking of a plan that would allow us to escape… But now,” she added as Amerlynn’s face seemed to regain a small amount of color, “we won’t have enough bone dust to make it work. We’re stuck here… Again…”
Amerlynn slumped down a little. “O-oh… I’m sorry…”
Freya grimaced. Damn it, with all the apologies…! With a shake of her head, she said, “It’s not your fault.” Returning to gaze out the window, she added, “Please… Continue tending my wound. I’ll try not to disturb you any further.”
“Yes ma’am…” Amerlynn answered, sadly.
Some time later, Freya heard Amerlynn’s voice. “M-… m’lady; I’ve finished.”
Freya jerked her head to look over her shoulder. Amerlynn had bandaged her wounds, and burns, leaving Freya with cloth tied around her waist, torso, and across her shoulder, as well as on several places along her sword arm. “That’s good work. I think I feel better already.”
“With respect, but that’s impossible…” Amerlynn spoke frankly.
Ignoring her words, Freya pulled her shirt down. Siewyn had earlier assisted Freya with her broken shield arm (with a great deal of prompting and instruction from Freya of course) and it was now kept in a sling. Since it was mostly the right side of her body which had been harmed, Freya had only needed to remove her sword arm from her shirt while Amerlynn worked. Consequently, Paugo’s insistence of his treatment being unjustified was somewhat understandable, given that only her back had been revealed. Not that she didn’t enjoy it when Siewyn suddenly sat on him.
Turning to Siewyn, Freya spoke. “Alright, I think you’ve tortured the hobbit long enough. Thank you for you concern, Miss Siewyn.”
Nodding, Siewyn sat up, and asked. “How is your arm?”
Freya smiled in assurance. “It’s good. You did well.”
Siewyn clapped her hands together with a bow. “Thank you. I’m glad I could help, m’lady.”
A low voice came from behind the stack of books she had been sitting beside. “M-my… back…”
Freya tried to restrain a laugh. “The gratitude is mine. …To both of you,” she said, turning to Amerlynn for a moment. “You’ve both been a tremendous help to me.”
Amerlyn quietly spoke, one hand on her wrist with her other in an unclenched fist pressed nervously to her lips. “You’re the one who got hurt protecting us… I-I don’t know if I can ever repay something like that, m’lady…”
Siewyn nodded with her arms folded.
“Gaaaaaahhhhh!” Paugo shouted.
“Gee…” Siewyn began, glancing down to the hobbit at her side. “What’s the matter with you?”
With a frustrated expression, Paugo almost shouted. “I’m getting sick of hearing that! …Over and over, it’s ‘m’lady this’ and ‘m’lady that’. Why the heck do you figure she deserves so much respect?”
Siewyn scowled, clenching her fist. “Why… you ungrateful little…; She saved our lives! The least you could do is show some gratitude.”
Paugo raised a finger, matter-of-factly stating, “Yet… She hasn’t saved our lives yet, dear, and honestly, that’s not even the point.” Then pointing his finger to Freya, he stated, “The point is, that we have no idea who this woman is! We don’t know where she comes from, her history, or even for heaven’s sake her name! She could be anyone… Goodness, we even know more about her bloody spear than her!” He then huffed, and in a childish gesture placed his hands on his hips. “I for one would at least like to know your name.”
Freya tilted her head, somewhat amused. “Oh… would you now?”
“Uhm…” Amerlynn whispered. “I-I would like to know myself… Miss! …Er… m’lady! Ma’am!”
“I see…” Freya then turned to Siewyn. “And you?”
“Wh-what!? Er… Well! It’s not as though I would actually condone this mongrel’s behavior… But… I would, somewhat, like to know…”
“So that’s it then,” Freya said slowly. “Well, if that’s how you feel… Just between us then, my name…” The others seemed to inch closer slightly to ensure they would hear. Then with a quick, but heavy laugh Freya finished, “…is irrelevant in our current situation.” The group groaned and spoke in protest. Paying no attention to them, Freya leaned back against the wall, and with a stretch of her arm and a yawn she said, “That’s enough for tonight. You should all get some sleep.”
_____________________________
A world shrouded in darkness… I wonder… Is this the world you chose…? …Father…?
The stone door of the crypt slid open by the combined strength of Amir, and Bomir. “Miss, I am afraid I really must repeat myself… Are you absolutely certain this is safe?” Abbot asked.
Freya held her hand to her mouth as the rank stench of the crypt seeped out into the room. She could feel the fresh air rushing past her to fill the newly created opening. “The wights you’ve all been facing have come from the forest. It is unlikely that they are the dead you have buried here.”
“And that means,” added Amerlynn, “that we should be able to make use of their remains.”
Siewyn gagged as she was hit by the stench of the crypt as well. “Ugh… Honestly… Don’t you have even the slightest of qualms toward grinding up the bones of the dead?”
“Well,” Freya smirked, “they’re not using them.”
Siewyn paled. “Well… yeah, but… Uck… It just seems so… I-I mean, I can’t imagine having my skull ground into a fine powder.”
Amerlynn glanced between the two during the conversation before blinking, shouting out, “Oh!” Suddenly having drawn the gazes of everyone in the room, she blushed, shrinking back slightly into the corner before finishing her statement. “O-oh… I-I didn’t realize… Is it really so strange?”
“Oh yeah!” called Destin, who was leaning against the wall. He was well enough to stand now, but his injury still troubled him, and he perpetually kept an arm over his bandages at all times. “It’s very weird. Most people just expect that when they go they’ll be sat down in a pretty little wooden box and then left there for all eternity. I’m sure more than a few of them would protest to their remains being ground up.
“Of course…” he added, “Considering our current situation, I’d say anyone that protests is a real whiner…”
“Well excuse me for being considerate!” Siewyn shouted, clearly offended, as her face turned a bright shade of red.
“Whoa! Hey! I-I didn’t mean you! The dead people! I-I meant the dead people, I…” Destin tried his best to defend himself, but caught in Siewyn’s glare, there was little he could do. He finally resigned himself with a sigh, muttering, “Oh, why do I bother…” before leaving for his floor mat.
“Even with all the training in the world… No man can ever stand against such a thing…” Freya whispered to herself.
Amerlyn glanced at her, confused. “Huh?”
“Nothing… Amerlynn; you’re with me. I’ll need you to carry a torch.”
“Uh… Ah…! Right!” Amerlynn replied in a startled tone, as she offered up an awkward salute. Grasping her staff in hand, she headed off down the stairs into the darkness, performing an exaggerated march.
Freya shook her head with a sigh as she approached the crypt. That girl… Turning to Siewyn, she held out Galadbolg. “Here. I’m trusting you with my companion. Take care of him until I return.”
“Hm? …But why…? What if you need him?” Siewyn asked as Freya dropped the spear into her hands.
“With only one arm and limited room to move, a spear is less than ideal. Part of being a good soldier is being proficient in a range of martial styles to suit the situation. In this particular situation, a sword is better suited.”
“O-oh… Alright… He’ll be here waiting for you when you get back.”
“I’m counting on it.” Freya said, offering a slight smile.
“Hey…” whispered Paugo. He forced himself to mutter, “Y-you be careful down there… We still need you to pull us through this thing…”
Freya nodded without turning to him. She descended into the darkness.
As she proceeded deeper, less and less light reached her from the entrance. When she had finally reached the catacombs, she couldn’t make out anything at all. “Amerlynn?” she called out.
“Over here! I’m jus-… Ow!” Freya could hear a thud slightly further on ahead.
Freya growled, “What are you doing? I told you to carry the torch!”
“Sorry! I just… I thought I could… Uh… One second… Let me just… Ah! Here we go!” After a moment of shuffling around, a soft light emanated through the room. Freya could see Amerlynn holding a white crystal in her hand. The crystal glowed with a white light, which somehow illuminated far and beyond what would have been possible with a mere torch.
“I see…” Freya said with a smile. “Well done.”
“Thanks!” replied Amerlynn with a satisfied grin. “I was trying to make it work as I walked, and then I bumped into this big smelly thing over… here…” Amerlynn slowly turned her head as she spoke, becoming slightly paler the further she turned. That’s when she saw the ghastly countenance of the figure she had bumped into, hanging slightly askew from his burial shelf.
Amerlynn began a slight shriek as she staggered back, but it was cut short. Freya, having anticipated this reaction, had closed the distance between them, and covered the girl’s mouth with her hand. “Quiet!” she growled.
“Mnm mn’nm….” Amerlynn replied.
“What’s the matter with you?” Freya scolded as she released her. “You’ll make the others worry if they heard you.”
“Sorry… It’s just… It was right there…” Amerlynn whimpered.
“Don’t be such a child! This is what we came here for, remember?”
“Yeah… I know…”
Freya let out a sigh. Honestly… It’s just every little thing… Clearing the thought from her mind, she said, “That light of yours seems to be lighting up the whole room pretty well. I’ll take a look around. You start robbing graves.”
“Eep!” Amerlynn squealed with a jolt.
“What? What is it?” Freya asked, quickly turning toward her again.
“I-I… Er… I-it’s nothing, I… just realized why Siewyn thought this would be so weird…”
Freya cocked her head to the side with a bland expression. “It’s not really a fairy tale, is it? Well… that’s life, unfortunately… As often as not, things tend to be tinted a different shade of grey here.” Turning again, she added, “Just… do your best, alright?”
Finally having a moment to explore her surroundings, Freya was amazed by just how many bodies lay buried beneath the abbey. And more importantly… she was amazed by just how many bodies were unmoved. For some reason, the dead were not rising from within this crypt… “Hey, Amerlynn… Do you know anything about all this? Who are these people?”
“What do you mean?” Amerlynn asked.
“It just seems strange that there would be a crypt here doesn’t it?”
“Not really… Farmers and villagers from all around used to come out here before any sizable towns sprang up. And some people still do come here regularly. But recently I guess it has become rather secluded. So most of the people buried here probably attended services here. I think some of the old abbots are buried here too.”
“What about the last one?”
Amerlynn looked up. She’d already heaped three bodies together on the floor. “I think so… Why?”
“It’s just a theory… but… Isn’t it possible that he and his predecessors had some way of preventing this from happening?”
Amerlynn blinked. “Huh…?”
“What if… just, what if, they had some sort of ward, or charm to protect this place, but the old abbot died before he could pass on what it was to the new one.”
“Oh! I get it! Yeah, that might be true!” Amerlynn stood energetically. “So, what should we do?”
Freya thought for a moment. “Do you have any idea where he might be buried?”
Amerlynn shook her head, sinking slightly in shame. “No… I’m sorry.”
Freya nodded. “It’s fine… It was a long shot anyway. Don’t worry about it.”
A few minutes later, Amerlynn had piled up nearly ten bodies, and began moving on to the opposite side.
“Hey,” Freya called. “It looks pretty safe down here. Mind if I leave you for a minute to get Amir and Bomir to help?”
“Not at all. I’m fine, thanks.”
Nodding, Freya began to make her way up the stairs. Suddenly she was stopped by Amerlynn’s call below. “Wait!” Quickly turning and rushing back to her, Freya found the girl peering over a body, as of yet untouched.
“What’s wrong?”
Amerlynn raised her shaking finger, pointing it at the corpse before her. “I-it’s… the abbot...!”
Before her was a figure not quite as decrepit as the other members of the tomb. He wore white ceremonial robes, and held a relic in his hands. Freya looked the man over, before turning to Amerlynn. “Great… But what has you so frightened?”
“I-it’s… it’s just that I…” Amerlynn stammered.
Freya sighed. “Yeah… I get it… Do you want to leave? We can go get some air.”
“N-no! I’m alright… You don’t need to worry about me…”
Freya frowned. “Well, okay then…” Then looking over the corpse of the old abbot for a moment, a thought occurred to her. “Hey…”
Amerlynn looked up at her. “Hm…?”
“That relic in his hands… Could that be what’s been preventing the bodies here from rising as wights?”
Amerlynn turned to the relic. She then let out a gasp, her eyes widening.
Freya nodded. “It must be… We should take it with us. It could come in handy for making it out of this alive.” She held out her hand to take the relic.
As Freya’s hand grew nearer, Amerlynn seemed to break from her stupor. With surprising agility, she shot to her feet, violently grasping Freya’s wrist. “Don’t touch it!” she shouted.
Freya was shocked. She met Amerlynn’s gaze, and for the first time she felt something she had never expected… at least from her. She felt fear… The look in Amerlynn’s eyes was absolutely horrifying. The scholar absolutely glared at her with frightening resolve. “W-what…? Amerlynn… What the hell do you think you’re doing!?”
“I’m sorry… But I cannot allow you to take it!” Amerlynn shouted, as she shoved Freya backward.
Recovering her balance, Freya glared at Amerlynn… “Foolish girl… I don’t have time for this… We’re talking about our lives here! If there’s even the slightest chance that that thing he’s holding can help us, I’m taking it!”
“No!” Amerlynn shouted resolutely.
“Stand aside!”
“No!” Amerlynn cried again.
“Why the hell not!?” Freya shouted, gritting her teeth.
“Because it’s not fair!”
Freya’s eyes widened suddenly. Her expression softened as she saw that Amerlynn was crying. “Amerlynn…”
“It’s not fair! …It’s not! …Not fair!” shouted through her tears.
Freya relaxed her muscles, her expression becoming blank once again. “That’s right… So that’s what it is…” she spoke softly. Amerlynn sobbed at every word. “You knew him…”
Amerlynn nodded with a sniffle. “He was good… He was a really good man…”
“You came here when he was still alive… You… didn’t know where he was buried… Oh, Amerlynn… I’m so sorry.” In an instant, Freya understood everything… Amerlynn came to the abbey to study. She’d done the same in many other places, and then moved on. A quest for knowledge… But during her travels, of course she would meet nice people, like the old abbot. She would make friends… and then she would leave again. The old abbot was her friend… He died, and she did not know where he was buried, even though it was right beneath her feet. She didn’t know… which meant. “It’s not your fault… Whatever it is, it’s not your fault.” The abbot died, and was buried… while she had locked herself in her tower studying.
“You don’t know…” Amerlynn sobbed. “He was my friend… He was my friend, and I wasn’t there for him! I couldn’t help him, I couldn’t… I couldn’t do anything! I couldn’t even see him buried… I’m… bad…”
Freya held her broken arm, her eyes closed silently. She’s so young… I never understood until now… just how a scholar could be so young… But now I understand… She’s an orphan… She’s been reading through dusty tomes her entire life… She never had a mother… or a father… So the old abbot… Oh, Amerlynn…
Amerlynn fell to her knees, sobbing. “I’m bad… And he died… and the only thing he cared about was protecting these people from becoming wights. It’s not fair…! It’s just not fair…”
Freya took a breath, but then smiled softly. Speaking quietly, she said, “You idiot…”
Amerlynn blinked. She ceased sobbing for a moment to look up at her.
While her words might have otherwise seemed harsh, Freya’s voice was… compassionate. She even surprised herself, in fact. “He didn’t do it for these people, idiot. They’re dead. It’s kinda a given of his faith that they’re in a better place. No wight or dark magic can change that. No… he’s grasping that relic, even in death… for you.”
“Wha-… wha-do… *hic* you, mean…?”
“Well…” Freya said, sitting down next to Amerlynn. “For everyone here really. He didn’t want the wights here in the crypt to become wights, because he knew they would overrun you. This relic, is his final gift.”
Amerlynn wiped her eyes with her sleeve “Really…? Oh… I… I think, that makes sense…”
“Yeah… So Amerlynn… Why not? Why not use this gift he gave us?”
Amerlynn shook her head. “No, it’s still no good. It only protects the crypt here by stopping the dead from becoming wights. It won’t have any affect on the others.”
Freya frowned, gazing at the dirt before her. “Are you sure…? Amerlynn, are you absolutely certain?”
Amerlynn nodded. “Y-yes… Yes, I am. I know it’s hard, but… I-I know…”
Freya let out a long, drawn out sigh. “Great… Just, great…” Rising to her feet, she nodded. “Alright. I believe you. We’ll leave it here.” She held out her hand to help Amerlynn to her feet.
“Thank you,” Amerlynn whispered softly, taking Freya’s hand.
“Now, we’ve still got a lot of work to do. How much bone dust do you really need for this anyway?”
Amerlynn thought about it for a moment. “Oh… Well, actually, I think this will be more than enough… I’m sorry… I guess I just sort of lost track…”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ll get Amir and Bomir down here to help carry up the bodies. I’d rather have too much than not enough.” ________________________________
“Alright, here’s what we have so far…” Freya explained. “First, we gather enough bone dust for Amerlynn to create a ward to protect us for an entire night while we make our escape. If it works, the wights won’t be able to approach us. We will also construct a wooden barricade, to protect from archers. There is only one area where we lack preparation. That being, we have no defense against fire. If our barricade is set on flame, we won’t have any alternative but to abandon it.”
“But I thought wights were vulnerable to fire?” Siewyn asked.
“They’re just dried up husks. And even if they were vulnerable to it, that doesn’t mean that they wouldn’t use it if they must.” Freya glanced around the room. “Look, I don’t know that they’ll use it either, but I’d rather not find out while we’re stuck holed up in a ward for the night. We need to take every precaution available to us.”
“Couldn’t we just fasten metal plates to the barricade?” asked Destin.
Freya shook her head. “Do you want to carry it around? It’ll be difficult enough with just the barricade and bone dust. Besides, where would we get the metal, or melt it down? And don’t forget, the barricade is basically going to be a wooden tent. We’ll have holes to allow air in, but we’ll have external vents to prevent arrows from entering. The ward will prevent the wights from getting close enough to dismantle it.”
“Well… what if we doused in water before we left?” suggested Siewyn.
Again, Freya shook her head. “We’d be leaving in the morning, so it would be dry long before nightfall. And if we did it at night it would still not be enough. We couldn’t very well douse the barricade after we’re within it.”
“Uhm… I-I have an idea… I think…” Amerlynn suggested, raising her hand, meekly.
Freya turned her attention to her. In spite of the girl’s quirks, she seemed to be reliable. Her unique abilities would be essential for escaping. “Yes…? What is it Amerlynn?”
Amerlynn nervously lowered her hand, fidgeting with it as she looked around the room. She seemed to shrink back even further for a moment before stating her idea. “I-I just… I-I mean, I could try, something… I think that once we’re inside the barricade, I could… uhm… sort of just… make the ground… crawl up on it…”
The room was silent for a moment. Creating fire, and bombs were one thing, but what Amerlynn seemed to be suggesting was a little out there. “You mean to cover the barricade with earth…?” Freya asked. “You can do that?”
Amerlynn nodded. “Y-yes… Er… I think so. I’ve never really tried it but…”
Freya sighed. Naturally… “So, that’s a maybe… However, we don’t have the luxury of time to worry about that now. We’ve got a lot of work to do if we intend to be able to leave tomorrow. Right now we need to gather the wood and materials to construct the barricade. We’ll rely on Amerlynn for the ward and as for the fire, we’ll rely on Amerlynn if we have to, but I want everyone to keep thinking on it. I don’t intend to fail just because we overlooked something.”
Paugo leaned over Amerlynn. “Gosh, no pressure for you, eh? Heh-hehheh…” he smirked. Freya could hear a slight noise from Amerlynn as she seemed to tremble at the thought. Damn it all, Paugo… This isn’t the time! Fortunately, she was spared scolding him herself, as a swift thump from Siewyn resulted in the hobbit’s form being sprawled across the floor.
Freya restrained a laugh, hiding her expression as she turned to the door. “If there’s no further issue… I’d rather finish before nightfall.” __________________________________
Amerlynn took an uneasy breath. It had all happened so fast… To think that yesterday, she had not even the slightest concern. And now… she was grinding bones to dust in order to save everyone. Now that she had time to think, she suddenly felt… unclean…
The other night, it had been instinct. She drew upon the knowledge she had gained and acted. Truth is, she had never thought about the situation, or what she had been doing once. There were wights, and she ran to protect a woman she hardly knew. They were about to die and she dismembered a corpse to create a ward. And yet now… she was all too aware just how bizarre a turn her life had taken. And also… in spite of the spear-maiden’s assurances, she was still concerned about what the previous ‘owners’ of these corpses would think if they knew what she was doing to them.
It’s so… wrong… It’s just so wrong… If it… If it were me, I… Suddenly she shook, uncontrollably, the tool she had been using falling from her hands. The image of her own bones being ground up sprang vividly into her mind, and with it… the horrifying realization. Oh, my… O-oh my…! I… I… Her vision changed, and she could see the floor drenched in blood. She felt the sting of a blade, as it pierced her chest; her arms fell limp and her head drooped to the side as the wight that had struck her raised her up, like some disgusting trophy on a stick. And then, she could see her face... her expression in death. Amerlynn’s voice shook, “I’m going to die…”
Suddenly, Amerlynn felt something. Something touched her shoulder. Her mind rattled at the thought of each bony finger ripping into her skin. Throwing her arm back with a shriek, Amerlynn tumbled across the floor as she cringed. She was afraid… Too afraid to even look. And so she didn’t… Squeezing her eyes shut, she couldn’t find the strength to move, or do anything more than tremble.
She heard the shadow come closer. Her heart beat frantically as she awaited what she had in her hysteria convinced herself would be a painful end. To her surprise however, no pain came. Instead, she felt two arms wrap around her, one over her back, and the other cradling her head. And rather than the cackle of a wight, she heard a voice, comforting and gentle. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. You’re safe now. It was just a dream, alright?”
A-A… dream… I just… It was just… a dream…? Amerlynn began to control her breathing as she attempted to organize her thoughts. Yes… I’m alive… I’m still alive. I… That voice… I know that voice… But… Amerlynn strained to remember. Who… is… holding me…? Suddenly she knew. She remembered who it was; the owner of the voice. Immediately, she could feel her face become hot. O-oh no! It’s him… Th-that man, that… That, Destin man. Crying out, though in a notably separate tone than before, she shoved Destin away, sliding back a bit further herself before tucking her legs up to herself and covering her mouth with her palms as her face continued to blush all the more deeply.
Destin sat shocked for a moment. Then coming to his senses, he began to frantically plead, “S-… Sorry! I… I didn’t mean… I, mean… I wasn’t trying to be… inappropriate… o-or something… I just… I… er…” Amerlynn was surprised by this reaction. It seemed as though he was just as blushed as she was. Delivering a quick kneeling bow, Destin finished. “S-sorry! Please, forgive me, m’lady. I-it was, terribly rude of me.”
Amerlynn blinked, amazed by the sincerity of his apology, and continued to watch him from behind her hands as he nervously went back to work grinding bones, fumbling about with the tools more than normal as he tried to avoid looking at her.
B-but… But I… Amerlynn swallowed. I-it… i’it wasn’t rude a-. She shook her head with a slight growl. Words! Words, dummy! She nervously raised her eyes to Destin, then quickly glancing away. Raising her head, she quickly looked from side to side, spotting two slight forms hiding behind a doorframe, one substantially taller than the other. Upon realizing they had been discovered, the two forms disappeared, and after some shuffling and whispering, Amerlynn could hear quiet footfalls departing.
Hiding behind her hands once again, Amerlynn nervously raised her eyes to Destin, who himself was nervously absorbed in his work, making a point not to react to anything else. Lowering her eyes again, she stealthily glanced to either side once again. Satisfied, she took a breath and lowered her hands, sliding herself across the floor to her original position. Picking up her dropped tool in both hands, she sat silently for a moment. Then in a quavering voice, she whispered, “Th-thank you… f-for y-your k-k-kindnes-s...”
Destin jerked, the bone he had been grinding sliding away from him. “Y-you’re…” He let out a sigh, retrieving the bone. Then in a soft, clear voice said, “You’re welcome, my lady. …Amerlynn.”
Amerlynn’s face, which had been recovering resumed its bright shade of red. “H-he…” she whispered softly. “He said my na-” Less words! Less words, idiot! _____________________________
The hours ran on, and Freya found herself wishing she had more time. They would barely manage to gather the wood they needed by nightfall at this pace, and even then, the barricade would need to be constructed. Working all through the night wasn’t acceptable, as they would need their rest, but they couldn’t leave the barricade unfinished either. If they had to, they could remain another day at the abbey, but Freya was not keen to resort to it. It had only been a single night, and yet she had already failed to protect everyone. If it hadn’t been for Amerlynn...
With a thud, the wooden planks she had carried in fell to the floor. To Freya’s surprise, Amerlynn was nowhere to be found. Several satchels and bags sat along the floor, and the entranceway had come to stink of death.
Destin sat alone, still hard at work. At the very least, it didn’t look like having enough bone dust would be an issue. If they had to, they could rely on the wards to stay another night at the abbey, but Freya didn’t like the idea of relying so heavily on such ‘magic’. It’s simply too difficult to gauge the strength and endurance of the incorporeal.
“Where is the scholar? Why is she not here?” Freya asked.
Destin glanced up to her, then in a slow voice said, “She… said she needed a break. Headed back down into the catacombs.” Freya noted that he seemed to avoid eye contact.
Freya scowled. Damn it… Not again… I can’t have her breaking down now. She’s too important! “Thank you…” she answered simply.
Descending into the darkness of the catacombs, Freya was glad to see the soft white light of Amerlynn’s crystal. Unsurprisingly, she stood silently over the fallen abbot. Freya took a moment to compose herself. In spite of their dire situation, she knew that getting angry would not help Amerlynn. She had to try to contain herself.
Stepping in beside Amerlynn, Freya spoke in as soft a voice as she could. “Hey. You doing okay?”
Amerlynn nodded. “I am… I just, felt like I needed to see him, and say goodbye for myself…”
Freya glanced to the side. “It’s never easy to lose someone. …I’m, truly sorry, Amerlynn,” she whispered, earnestly.
They stood together silently for what seemed like a very long time. It only ended when Freya noticed something. A detail she had previously overlooked. “Amerlynn…” she whispered.
Amerlynn turned to her. “Y-yes? What is it?”
Freya held out a finger, and pointed above where the Abbot lay. “That. That pipe there…”
Amerlynn glanced at the pipe, and then back at Freya. “Yes? What about it?”
“Doesn’t it seem… at all strange to you?” Freya asked.
Amerlynn shook her head. “No… Not really. Should it?”
“I don’t… know…” Freya answered hesitantly. The pipe was a dull, rusty color, though the material itself seemed to be in pristine condition. It seemed to have descended from up within the abbey, and then set off down the varying tunnels of the catacombs. Holding out her arms cautiously, Freya touched the pipe, and found that it felt like some sort of metal, but a very malleable type. It almost seemed like clay. “I’ve never seen a metal like this before… What do you suppose it is?”
“I’m… not sure…” Amerlynn answered slowly. “It doesn’t seem like a common variety… It could be a low quality copper, but… No… No wait… This looks a lot like… It, could be…”
“What? Out with it.”
“It’s… crazy but… The, material, the texture; that color… It… sounds absolutely crazy, but it looks like it could be…” Before Amerlynn could finish however, Freya flicked the pipe with the back of her finger on a whim. The slight tap of her finger created a deafening reverberation that echoed all throught the tunnels, causing both women to quickly cover their ears, causing pain to Freya as she instinctively tried to move her broken arm.
After fifteen seconds, the echoes died. “What the hell was that!?” Freya shouted.
Amerlynn nodded. “It is… It’s crazy, but… It really is! This is fantastic!”
“Oh, would you get on with it already!” Freya shouted angrily.
Amerlynn turned to Freya with a wide smile. “You’re not going to believe this! But I think this metal is orichalcum!”
Freya tilted her head to the side with an angered expression. “I believe it. But only because I don’t have a clue what that is. I’ve never heard of it.”
Amerlynn looked absolutely giddy. “It’s an ancient and rare material with a natural conductivity for what you might consider mystical forces or magic. Wizards used to do spectacular things with orichalcum, but there’s so little of it left in the world that it’s rare to actually find anything. I thought it was a myth! Can you believe it!”
“Again… yes! So let’s see if I understand this… What you’re saying is that it doesn’t naturally amplify sounds to an absurd level?”
“Yes!”
“So someone ‘chanted this stuff to do that on purpose?”
“Yes!” Amerlynn answered with a frantic nod.
“…Why…?”
Amerlynn suddenly began to laugh, more heartily than Freya would have thought possible. She glanced between Freya and the orichalcum pipes, one after the other, never losing her smile. Finally, she answered with a tone of incredible joy. “I don’t know!”
“What?” Freya asked in surprise.
“Haha! I don’t know! I really don’t know!”
Freya growled, “Then why are you so disgustingly happy!?”
“Because! I don’t know; get it!? Because, I, don’t, know… Isn’t it wonderful! Haha!”
Suddenly Freya understood. And in the face of Amerlynn’s display, she couldn’t help but to chuckle a little herself. And as she did, her chuckle began to grow, and grow, until finally it was a hearty laugh, and both of them were laughing without reserve. __________________________________
Paugo lay sprawled across his bed. It’s an absolute crime to make one such as I work so hard… Patting his round belly, he let out a sigh. Not good… Not good at all. These folk a practically starving me! Don’t they realize the delicate balance of delicacies my body is used to!? My, it’s absolutely criminal for me to live this way.
He stretched out his neck, which creaked as he did. A clear sign he had been overexerted. Or… at least, in his mind. He lay at his leisure for quite some time. During the course of his relaxing, a thought occurred to him. A thought which might have otherwise been obvious, and certainly had occurred to him before, but never had quite had the impact that it did now. …My… Could I… really… …die here…? He shook his head. No! That’s absurd! I can’t die! Not yet! There’s still… that… Slowly, in an effort to reassure himself, he reached into his vest pocket and removed a watch. Flicking it open, he saw the time was just past a quarter to six. He reasoned in his mind that all he wanted was to see the time. He reasoned that the constant ticking of the hands would assure him that he was alive, and just as they would continue on… so would he. No… No, it was absolutely impossible the portrait held within could have any meaning to him. It was the clock he wanted to see… Not her.
Down on the floor below, he could hear what it was he feared most at the moment. Not truly the wights, or darkness which threatened him, but instead a shrill calling of his own name. For a moment, he considered crawling under the bed before he’s discovered, but decided against it, largely because he just felt no need to move at the moment.
So it was inevitable then, that eventually the screeching of his own name would come closer, and finally be upon him. It was inevitable that Siewyn would barge into his room. “There you are!” she shouted. “What on earth do you believe yourself to be doing!? This is no time to be sleeping, Paugo. Now get up!”
Paugo made no effort to turn, argue or in any way act. He simply answered. “No.”
He was sure Siewyn’s face must have been quite a site. A shame that he couldn’t bother himself to look. There was no doubt in his mind that he was a lazy hobbit, but in his mind, why shouldn’t he be?
Then quite suddenly, the pocket watch he had held in his hand simply vanished. This was enough to warrant his attention. “How you can amuse yourself with some shiny bauble at a time like this is completely beyond me! However, if it is a distraction to you it seems best that it be removed,” Siewyn scolded.
“Petty thief,” Paugo scowled. “Now return my belonging at once, and I’ll forgive you.”
Siewyn smirked. “No.” She then turned, and left the room.
Paugo stared after her in disbelief. How… dare she!? Suddenly finding himself enraged, Paugo leapt from his bed to chase after her. Rounding about into the hallway, he shortly caught up to her, shouting, “What in heaven’s name do you think you’re doing! Now you disgusting longshanks, return my watch or else!”
Siewyn scowled down at him. “I already told you, the answer is no. You help us with the barricade, and then you get it back.”
“Stupid girl! What do you think the point of that will be!? It’s not as though we’ll finish today!”
“The point is,” Siewyn began, angrily, “even if we don’t finish today, we will be closer to finishing tomorrow, and then we can rest.”
“I will not wait two whole days to receive what is rightfully mine! Now, mine is mine, and hand it over!”
Siewyn stopped, and glared down at him. “ ‘Mine is mine’? What’s that about? Anyway, it’s just a watch. What could possibly be so precious about it?”
Paugo clenched his fist. “I won’t ask again… Now, give it back!”
Siewyn ignored Paugo’s pleas, instead opening the watch herself to peer inside. Paugo’s heart sank as she did. Siewyn stared at the contents in amazement. “W-wha-… What is this?”
“I-I… I won’t… ask again… N-now… Please…” Paugo pleaded.
Siewyn turned to Paugo, her expression now completely changed. Girl… Stupid, stupid girl! What is it!? What is that look? Stop it… Stop looking at me like that! You don’t know anything! He couldn’t say it. Right then, he could hardly bring himself to breathe. With a nod however, Siewyn slowly lowered the watch into his hand. “Alright,” she said.
Paugo clenched the watch in hand, nodding to Siewyn. It was as close as he would likely ever come to a ‘thank you’. “Just one thing, though,” began Siewyn tentatively. “Who is she?”
It’s none of your business! “…No one… Just some stupid hobbit girl.”
Siewyn nodded. That was all she needed to know. ________________________________
Freya dropped the hammer from her hand. Gritting her teeth, she slowly raised her hand to the opposite shoulder. Damn this arm… If I hadn’t been so careless… Letting out a sigh, she turned to the nearby window. The last rays of sunlight just barely managed to peak out over the horizon. That’s it… We’re out of time.
“Everyone,” she called out, “thank you all for working so hard. We’ll have to stay an extra night however. So this is the current situation… We’ll take the lumber we’ve gathered, and as much of the barricade as we’ve constructed up to the second floor, and lock them away in the rooms. With any luck, this will prevent the wights from making off with what we’ve accomplished so far. We’ll retreat to the tower again, and set up three wards. The first at the base of the stairs, just as before, the second at the staircase on the second floor, and the third in front of the door into the tower. If one ward fails, we can simply activate the second, and then the third if we must. This should hopefully allow us to make it through the night with limited issue.” Turning to Amerlynn, she asked, “Can you manage this?”
Amerlynn nodded. “Yes. The first ward will probably last for only five or six hours on its own. So I think we should be able to activate the second ward after four hours, and then the third after another four. That way, we won’t have to stay on guard the whole night.”
“That’s good. Alright! Everyone, let’s finish up. I don’t want to be caught out here when the wights show up.” As the group began to set to work again, Freya stopped Siewyn. “Miss Siewyn, where has Abbot gone? He should be here before Amerlynn sets up her wards.”
“He said he wasn’t feeling well, m’lady. I think he went into his study to lie down.”
Freya nodded, and began to move to fetch him, but stopped when she saw Abbot enter the room. He immediately approached her instead. “Hello, dear,” he said in a kind tone. “How have you all fared today? Is everything ready?”
Freya shook her head. “Unfortunately not. We’ll have to rely on Amerlynn’s wards to protect us for the night. We’ll finish the barricade tomorrow and depart the following morning.”
Abbot frowned. “I see… So the Scholar really is the key…”
“Abbot?”
Abbot immediately turned to her with a cheerful smile. “Oh-ho, it’s nothing, child. Well, if that is all, I will return to the chapel.”
The old abbot turned to leave, but was stopped by Freya’s hand on his shoulder. “Hang on, Abbot. That’s not the best idea. Amerlynn’s only setting up wards to protect the stairs. We don’t have enough bone dust to secure the entire abbey. Sorry, but you’ll have to wait to play your hymns.”
The two of them stood silently for a moment, and Freya grew increasingly aware that the abbot’s disposition seemed to have changed. A realization that became increasingly clear as he spoke his cold words. “Do you really trust in such a craft…?”
Freya stared at him for a moment. What…? What is he thinking? Shaking her head, she stated, “I’d rather see the wall defending me… But I trust Amerlynn. She’s more powerful than I would have thought.”
Abbot suddenly began to laugh. Or maybe it was more of a cackle? “Trust? What lunacy… Is that your answer? If it is, you’ve clearly missed the entire point.” Then shaking his shoulder free of Freya’s grasp, he continued on his way, saying, “Mark my words, warrior… I will be saved… But it will be by my grace… Not hers!”
This was a side of Abbot which Freya had never seen before, and she found she could make no argument against him. What he said… ‘Craft’… Does he…? Does he consider Amerlynn some sort of witch? Turning, she saw Amerlynn and the others all working to clear out the room. In the short time she had known her, Freya had thought many things of Amerlynn, and not all of them flattering. However… Not once had she ever believed Amerlynn to be evil. No… If there was one thing she could be sure of in her current situation, then it was this. Amerlynn was good. __________________________________
“You shouldn’t be here,” Freya whispered. “This is foolish enough as it is.”
After her discussion with Abbot, Freya had spoken of it with the others. She had decided that the best course of action would be for herself to protect Abbot, and if need be… to force him to safety. This was in spite of Paugo’s insistence that if he didn’t want to be helped, he should be left behind. Freya wouldn’t hear of it. I will not forsake him… She turned to see Abbot preparing himself at his organ. Not even a fool; I could never abandon someone to death.
Destin laughed. “Well, I couldn’t very well just let you be the hero. Heck, I normally get paid to protect people. You’ve pretty much been stealing the show this entire time. Now it’s my turn.”
Freya frowned. Amerlynn had also wanted to come, but Freya had convinced her otherwise. She was of course the only one who could activate the wards. She was crucial to everyone’s survival. Why…? Why are there so many people so willing to throw their lives away…? “You shouldn’t push yourself. You’re hardly in any condition to fight.”
“Yeah?” Destin laughed. “Well! Look who else is talking! At least I have both arms.”
Freya couldn’t help but to chuckle. Well… I suppose I can see their reasoning… “I suppose you do have a point.” She looked over to Destin. He held both of his swords in hand. He put on a good show, but to Freya’s experienced eye, she could tell he was struggling with his wound. “Hey… You specialize in the halberd, right?”
Destin nodded. “Yeah. It’s sort of a family thing. My father taught me.”
Freya’s eyes narrowed. His father…. So, he must fight with his father’s style as well… Nodding, she held out her spear to him. “Put away those swords. Use my spear to defend yourself.”
“What?” Destin asked in surprise.
“It’s your specialty,” Freya answered plainly. “I am at a disadvantage. With only one arm, a sword will prove more useful. Take Galadbolg and defend yourself with him.”
Destin examined Freya’s eyes, as though he expected some sort of joke. “You’re serious, aren’t you?” Then with a nod, he sheathed his swords, and took Freya’s spear. “It’s a lot shorter than what I’m used to. …Lighter, too.”
Freya smiled. “Indeed… He is an elegant weapon. But his blade could cleave that butcher’s blade of yours in two. Rely not on your strength, but your own talent and the strength of his blade. Together, you will find no equal.”
Destin looked over the length of the spear, and with a reverence which Freya was pleased to see. “It sounds like this spear really means a lot to you.”
“More than you can ever imagine…” Freya answered as she drew her sword. She held it before her so she could examine its blade. Then with a sigh, she flourished the weapon and allowed it to hang loosely in her hand. It was an inferior weapon to him in every way, but this was the most logical course of action.
As the night dragged on, and Abbot began his hymn Freya began to hear the distant cackles and moans of the wights within the forest. She had already failed to defeat them once. By all logical reason, it was stupid to try this again, and with her injury no less. Furthermore, she worried for Amerlynn and the others. If Amerlynn’s ward failed, or if something unforeseeable were to happen, she would not be able to protect them. A thought then occurred to her, and she eyed Destin through the corner of her vision. “Say… Aren’t you at all worried about everyone else?”
Destin eyed her, curiously. “There’s not any reason to, is there? The wards will keep them safe.”
Freya nodded. “Indeed, that is the plan. …However…” She paused for a moment, intentionally building up the tension. “If… something, were to happen… who would be there to protect them. As a soldier yourself, I’m sure you know that these sort of plans rarely proceed without incident.”
Destin seemed to pale slightly. “Well… I, uh…”
“Hey… Why not just return to them? I can more than handle myself.”
Destin sighed. “You know, I can’t do that… It’s the very same reason you are here. I won’t abandon someone… And, besides… I trust Lady Amerlynn…”
Freya eyed him thoroughly. It was hard to tell with their limited lighting in the chapel, but it seemed as though he grew slightly redder in the face by the time he had finished. Curious… Freya laughed. “You really are a stupid man, aren’t you?”
“I-I…! I don’t, think I completely deserve that…”
Freya smiled. “You most certainly do, though you might not know it yet.” She ignored the glance Destin gave her, but added, “Hey… Stay alive tonight, alright?”
Destin took a moment before nodding. “Yeah. The same goes for you too, you know.”
The two of them waited together. Abbot’s song filled the chapel, and only seemed to darken the mood still further. The cries of the wights were growing closer, and Freya knew it would not be long now before they were upon them.
“There’s something I’d been thinking,” Destin spoke quickly. “I’d been speaking to Amerlynn, and she said that the previous abbot had some sort of relic, or charm on him when you found him in the crypt.”
“Yes… and if you’ve been speaking to Amerlynn about this, she likely already told you that it has no effect on the wights. It only serves to prevent the dead in the crypts from rising.”
“I know that… It’s just, that proves that the previous abbot knew about the threat the wights possessed right? He knew this could happen, right?”
“That does seem to be the case… Now, what’s your point?”
“Well, it’s just… If I were him, and I had that type of information, I wouldn’t leave passing it on down to chance. I would have made absolutely certain that whoever took my place later would have been able to prevent the abbey from being attacked by wights. I would have made sure that something like this could never happen.”
“Well clearly, the previous abbot wasn’t you.”
“Yeah, but… The way Amerlynn was talking about him, I can’t imagine someone like that could have been so careless.”
“He was still human after all. He probably just overlooked it, and… then…” Freya stopped in the middle of her sentence. The only sound all around was the echo of the organ’s tune. Slowly, she turned to the organ as Abbot played. “…How… could I have ever been so incredibly stupid…?”
“What…?” Destin asked. Before he could do anything more however, Freya was off running toward Abbot and his organ. She could hear the pained cries of wights just outside, and scratching against the inner chapel doors and boarded windows. They were inside… Freya could only hope Amerlynn’s ward protected the others. She didn’t have much time if she was to act.
Idiot! Stupid, stupid idiot! How could I have been so blind? How could I overlook it this entire time!? “Abbot!” she shouted. “Stop playing! Stop the music!”
“I cannot,” Abbot said calmly. “I will be the one… I will protect this place… I will save them…”
“I’ve heard enough of your ramblings old man!” Freya shouted. Having finally neared the Abbot, and already angry at herself for her oversight, she kicked the abbot from his seat, knocking him to the ground. The final note he had played echoed through the chapel.
“What in heaven’s name do you think…!”
“Shut up!” Freya shouted, holding her sword to within an inch of Abbot’s nose. “Shut up and listen… because all of this is your fault.”
The sound of cracking and splintering wood rang through the chapel. She heard Destin calling to her, saying, “I don’t know what you’re doing back there, but hurry up!”
“Tell me, Abbot… When did you lose your faith?” Even as she spoke, Freya’s sword didn’t move. It remained perfectly still as though locked in time.
“Wh-what are you talking about! That’s absurd! Now cease this madness and allow me to resume my song!”
“Your song indeed… Do you even recall the title? Do you remember anything of what’s been passed on?”
“O-of course I remember it! But I’d never share such a thing with a devil woman such as you!”
“Oh-ho!” Freya laughed. “A devil, am I now? My my…” she smirked, “that has a nice ring to it.”
“D-don’t… don’t mock me…”
“I don’t believe I have an alternative… You’re nothing more than the hollow shell of what an abbot should be… And yet you even take it as your name. Pff… What insolence!”
“Th-at’s not true!” Abbot screamed. “You’re the one! You’re the devil! All of this is your fault!”
A great crash came from the doors. The cries and cackles of wights echoed throughout the chapel as they streamed into the room. “Guys!” Destin shouted.
The sound of battle rose as Destin engaged the wights. Freya knew, it was Galadbolg… The sound gave Freya pause, as she closed her eyes. Sing for me… Galadbolg. To her, the sound of Galadbolg’s blade as it cut through the air was nothing less than a sweet melody. Freya’s eyes again opened, her resolve all the more striking. “No more lies… You lost your faith, Abbot. But now it’s too late. Like it or not, you’re stuck. You can’t change your road now. And because of your hypocrisy, you’ve allowed the deaths of those you were charged with.”
“No! It’s not my fault! It’s you! You’re the cause! You and your false hope!”
Freya relaxed. She knew she was right. “So, what is it? The name of the song?”
Abbot started. “I-it’s…”
“You don’t know… Because you’ve forgotten. The song is lost to you, and because of it, you’ve allowed the dead to return.”
“N-… No…” Abbot pleaded meekly.
“But that’s not enough, is it? Not playing the song alone wouldn’t be enough to remove its enchantment. If you had never played the song, the magic would have remained after all this time. The dead would never have risen… But you couldn’t accept it… You couldn’t accept that you were imperfect… And because of that, you played the song from memory… and added to it your own despair.”
“I-I… I didn’t…”
Freya nodded. “I believe you.”
“Wh-… What!?” Abbot exclaimed in surprise.
“You never intended any of this… But your fault is that you did not believe. You didn’t think there was any magic in the song. You never took it to heart. And by this point, you had already lost your faith. Your despair… Your sin, created a new song, that canceled the magic of the old. You released the enchantment which protected this land, and because of it, everyone you should have protected died.”
“I… I didn’t know…” Abbot wept. “I just… I… I…” He seemed so sincere for a moment… But then… he shook with rage. “I am not responsible for this!” He held out his hands, raising them above him. “I am clean! I am pure! I am salvation!”
“Stupid old man!” Freya shouted. She raised her sword above her head, tilting the blade to grasp it underhand before slamming it down. Flecks of blood spattered across the floor.
The abbot’s hands shook, not with resolve or dignity, but with fear. In a single swing, Freya had cut both his hands, slicing a clean cut down the palm of each. “Wh-what… Wh-…why? What have you done?”
Freya knelt down on her knees, her head lowered. “No man is pure, or clean… and no man can save anyone… by his own grace…” She raised her head, meeting his eyes. “The wounds on your hands are shallow. They will heal with time, but they will never be free of the scars. Remember that, old man… Because as a rule… gods don’t bleed.” Abbot could do nothing more than tremble, and yet he could not seem to look away from Freya’s gaze.
Standing to her feet, she strained her broken arm, freeing it from its sling. The pain was great, but she ignored it. Grasping onto the old man’s robes, she pulled him to his feet and forced him after her as she ran through the central aisle. A wight attacked her, but she make quick work of it with a single cut from her sword.
Up ahead, Destin was surrounded by wights, and Galadbolg sang. “Destin!” shouted Freya. “We’re leaving! Cut through!”
“It’s about time! Hyaaah!” shouted Destin. He actually seemed to be enjoying himself.
Together, and with Abbot in tow, the two of them cut through the swarm of wights in the entranceway. Freya was impressed by just how much easier it was when there were two of them. Even with Abbot slowing them down, the wights proved little resistance. But she also knew that the thirty seconds they would spend in combat hardly compared to a prolonged fight.
Even so, the numbers faced were far greater than before. They swarmed in from all around. It was with great relief that the reached the ward. “Mind not to disturb the bone dust!” Freya shouted. “We can’t risk ruining the ward!”
Destin took his place just outside the ward, holding back the horde of undead as Freya helped Abbot across. To her relief, he did not attempt to disrupt it. His resolved seemed to have disappeared, and even while they were surrounded by wights, he could do little more than stare blankly at his hands. After they were clear, Destin leapt over the ward himself, shortly followed by two nearby wights, each of which dissolved into dust as they passed over the ward.
Exhausted by their frantic escape, the two warriors stared out over the wights before them. Somberly, Freya turned up the stairs, pushing Abbot ahead of her. “Come on,” she called down to Destin. “Let’s go.”
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Post by amerlynn on Oct 25, 2009 17:06:14 GMT -5
((continued))
“You’re all safe! Thank goodness!” Amerlynn smiled brightly as the three of them entered the tower. Freya suspected that she must have been a nervous wreck a moment before. The extra piles of books fallen to the floor seemed a likely indication of that.
“Something seems wrong…” Siewyn pondered. “What happened down there?”
Freya glanced at Abbot, and then to Siewyn. “It was the song. The abbot’s song was what had stopped the wights from rising before. Unfortunately, the song was… corrupted… when the new abbot here took over.”
“That makes sense…” Amerlynn mused. “Knowledge holds its own power to those who wield it properly… In the same way, words and writing themselves can hold great significance themselves. That’s partially why knowledge has power itself. By association… So it stands to reason that music can hold just as much power as words, or knowledge.”
Freya nodded. “That’s what I thought… Only I don’t think the words… or… notes, are really so important. I think the real power lies within the heart of the person who performs it.”
“That’s very bright of you, m’lady! I think you might be right!” Amerlynn beamed excitedly. “Heheh… First orichalcum, and now the power of song! This is a wonderful day, isn’t it?!”
Paugo glanced at Amerlynn in disgust. “You’re really easily amused, aren’t you…?”
“That’s actually something else…” Freya commented. “I think the orichalcum pipes are part of the organ. That’s why the song echoed through the forest whenever he played.”
“I see! Yeah! That makes sense! Hehe! This is fantastic!” Amerlynn was practically hopping with excitement by this point.
“But… even without the song, the wights haven’t stopped…” Siewyn observed.
“Obviously! That’s because Abbots new corrupt song only canceled the original good song!” Amerlynn explained.
Freya scratched her head with a slight grin. Well, of course… If I could figure it out…
Siewyn folded her arms. “So… if the song were pure… the wights would all stop attacking…”
Amerlynn nodded, and seemed about to say something, but her attention was diverted. “D-Destin? A-are you alright?”
“Y-yes! Y-eah… I’m fine…” Destin assured her. Freya did feel he looked a bit pale, however…
“No… No, you’re not… Oh, gosh! You’re bleeding!” Amerlynn exclaimed in fright.
She was right. Destin’s bandages were drenched in blood. “Amerlynn!” Freya called.
“Right!”
Suddenly, Siewyn took Freya’s arm. “Lady spear maiden, please! You have to help me!”
“W-what?” Freya asked in surprise.
“Please! If that’s what caused all of this, I know I can stop it!”
“N-now!? You want to go now!?”
“Please… I just want this to be over… A-and I have a plan! Please!”
Is she crazy…? “Siewyn… Are you sure? Do you even know the song.”
Siewyn nodded. “I’ve lived here for so long… I know, I can do this!”
Freya could see it in her eyes… A resolve she had never expected from Siewyn. Somehow… she believed her. Releasing a sigh, she muttered, “This is crazy…”
“I know… But maybe it’ll make a great story some day!” With those words, she ran off down the stairs.
“Story…” Freya mused to herself. Then with a huff, she added, “Right… I haven’t seen one dragon since I got here…” ________________________________
When Freya reached the second floor, Siewyn had already drawn out what they had so far of their barricade. “What do you intend to do with that?”
“Like I said, I have a plan. Just follow my lead, alright?” Siewyn explained as she propped down the barricade one the stairs. “Alright! Here it goes!”
“Wait!” Freya shouted. But it was too late. Siewyn had already knelt down upon the wooden barricade and propelled it down the stairs crying out as she did. Growling in frustration, Freya chased after her, screaming, “Why, oh why, am I constantly surrounded by crazy people!”
When she reached the ground floor, the wights had been scattered by the makeshift ram, the barricade itself now shattered to pieces. Freya rushed into the chapel, lopping off the heads of fallen wights wither her sword at her own convenience as she ran.
She found Siewyn already seated at the organ, and could hear the wights rallying behind her. “I hope you know what you’re doing!” Freya shouted. She turned to stand her ground against the wights.
“There are a lot more buttons than I expected!”
“Whaat!?” Freya screamed, shrilly.
“Just kidding!”
A wight leapt forward at Freya. Dodging to the side, she impaled its head with her sword, then kicking it off. “Really… not the time!”
Siewyn made no response, but the music of the organ began to play. Another group of wights charged in through the doors, each armed with cleavers. Freya dodged between the middle and left ones, sweeping out the middles leg as she did. Spinning around, she parried the left’s attack, shattering the bones in its back with a powerful kick. She ducked under a sweeping attack from the right, following through with a powerful sweep from her own sword, cutting the wight in two before finally delivering a lethal stab to the back of the middle wight’s skull as it tried to regain its footing.
Freya heard a scream from behind her, and when she looked, she saw a wight bearing down on Siewyn. One had gotten past! It was too far away to catch now. A credit to Siewyn’s resolve, she continued to play without error. In fact, it wasn’t until now that she realized just how beautiful the abbot’s song was… when played properly. It was serene, and peaceful; a sharp contrast to the current situation. The wight was now raising its weapon, prepared to strike. There was no hope to reach her in time… And yet… It’s too soon for the music to stop. Out of options, Freya stepped toward the wight with her right foot, using it to pivot and balance as she took a long stride forward with her left, the entire time, arcing her arm forward. She released her sword from her grasp, allowing it to fly through the air. With remarkable timing, the sword impaled the wight’s skull, striking it to a wall just before it could begin its swing.
Letting out a laugh, Freya momentarily forgot herself. Turning around just a moment too late, she suddenly felt her feet lifted from the ground at a sharp pain her chest. A wight slammed into her, tackling her to the ground. Freya fought to keep the bestial monster away as it bit, and clawed to reach her. Ignoring the pain it caused her, she forced the creature back with her broken arm as she grasped the thin column of its neck with her right. Straining with all of her strength, she cried out as she tore the wights head from its body. The monsters struggling instantly ceased.
Now however, among the swarm of wights already inside, a lumbering form entered, carrying an axe. Most of the wights passed by Freya, moving straight for Siewyn. The large one with an axe, however, seemed intent on finishing Freya itself. It bore down upon her. Freya frantically scrambled backward to escape, even hurling the last wights dismembered skull at the beast, and to little effect at that. She couldn’t escape… and the others would soon be upon Siewyn. Stupid! I should never have agreed to this! Gyah!
The axe-wielding wight raised its axe above its head. I have to move… Now! “Gaaaahhh!” Freya rolled to the side, kicking out the wights leg. It fell to the ground with a massive thud, its axe falling after it, impaling into the creature’s skull. In spite of its mortal wound, its arm raised up with one final groan, before falling.
Freya breathed a sigh of relief for the moment, but knew the many other wights would finish the job. “Siewyn!” she shouted.
Rising to her feet, Freya found herself surrounded. The entire chapel had been flooded with wights. However, none of them were moving. All of them simply stood in place, motionless. It was surreal, and for a moment, Freya felt as though the entire world was standing still around her. All at once, the wights raised their gazes upward, releasing piercing cries, and then all was silent. The unholy life within the wights had vanished, and they all fell to pieces all around. Dust filled the room.
As the air cleared, Freya made her way through the piles of bones to the organ, which still played its melody. Siewyn still sat before it, her hands calmly gracing the keys, her eyes closed and a serene smile on her face. She then turned to Freya. “You did it. Thank you, m’lady. For everything.”
Freya nursed her broken arm, returning it to its sling. To her surprise, the pain seemed dull. The injury still clearly remained, but the pain itself was more bearable. “There’s something I’ve been wondering…” she said. “That song… What’s it called?”
Siewyn returned her eyes to the organ. “It’s called… ‘The Light of Dawn’.” ________________________________
The following morning, the sun seemed somehow brighter. The world was open and free, and best of all… No risen dead within the immediate vicinity. It was the perfect day to set out on a journey. And yet, Siewyn found that she wasn’t entirely sure where to go from here herself. Could she simply return home after all that had happened…? After everything, living a life of luxury seemed somehow… insignificant…
She sat at beside the door in the entranceway, simply happy to finally see the clouds without fear. A clanking and rattling noise sounded from within, and after a moment, Paugo exited, carrying with him seemingly everything he owned, and the kitchen itself.
“Good morning, Paugo.” She said pleasantly.
“Good…? Heh… You really must have bonked your head something fierce in that scuffle last night.”
Siewyn didn’t humor him with anger, but instead laughed. “You’re leaving already? That’s too bad… I think I might actually miss you.”
“Why thank you! And I take great pleasure in the fact that the feeling isn’t mutual,” Paugo said hotly. He began once again to set out.
Siewyn smiled. “I hope you find her, Paugo.”
In an instant, Paugo stopped right in his tracks. “…Yeah…” he said slowly. “Me too…” And with that, he once again began on his way. “Hey… See you, Siewyn.” ____________________________
Freya stepped through the abbeys broken doors, Abbot following behind her. She’d already decided to take him someplace where he can atone.
As the two of them made their way down the road, a voice called out behind them. “Hey!”
Stopping, Freya turned to see Amerlynn, rushing after them. Even though they hadn’t even reached the tree line from the abbey yet, the girl was completely out of breath by the time she reached them.
“H-hey… Y-ou… didn’t… even think… to say goodbye…” she wheezed.
“Mercenaries don’t get goodbyes, Amerlynn. They do the job, get paid, and leave.”
“B-ut I… never thought of you that way…” Amerlynn said, sadly. “I… think of you as a friend. Friends say goodbye.”
Freya couldn’t conceal her surprise. That was genuinely something she hadn’t expected. “Don’t be ridiculous,” she said coldly. “Our relationship ended last night. I’m just a mercenary without a name.” Turning again, she began to walk away.
“O-oh? Oh yeah!? Well, then, why aren’t you getting paid!?”
“Because you’re cheap. Last time I work for you guys,” Freya called, not even breaking her stride.
She thought that would be the end of it. However… “Freyathyn!”
Suddenly, Freya couldn’t move. It’s not as though she didn’t want to move… It’s just she couldn’t. She slowly turned to face Amerlynn. “How do you know my name?”
Amerlynn nodded. “I knew it… It is you, isn’t it…?” Taking a step forward, she continued, “I met him, once… A long time ago… He talked about you. I was just a girl back then… but I still remember the way he fought. You’re just like him Freyathyn.”
Freya lowered her eyes. “So that’s how…” After a silent moment, she raised her head again. “Hey…”
“Y-yes!?” Amerlynn asked quickly.
“I prefer Freya.” _______________________________________________ _______________________________________________ _______________________________________________
Epilogue: The Hero I Choose to Be
Three weeks have passed since that fateful night…
Balancing delicately on a ladder, Amerlynn reached as far as she could, gingerly returning a book to its place on a shelf. As the book slid into place, she couldn’t help but release a sigh. “There…” she said in a satisfied tone. “I’m finally finished.” Sliding down the length of the ladder, she made for the stairs, humming to herself with a slight skip in her step.
Destin and Siewyn were already waiting for her when she reached the entranceway. “There you are!” proclaimed Siewyn. “It certainly took you long enough!”
“I’m sorry…” Amerlynn replied with a bow. “I lost track of time again.”
“That really happens a lot, doesn’t it…?” remarked Destin. “Well, no matter… Are you ready?”
Amerlynn nodded, lifting a large pack from the floor, and hefting it onto her back. “Yes. I’m ready.”
Destin smiled. “That’s great. Let’s get going then.”
The three of them began on their way, and Amerlynn couldn’t help but to notice just how different Siewyn now seemed than when she first met her. Rather than the white dress she so often wore, she was now attired in a clean, but worn set of commoners clothing, and her clean brown hair now tied and bound atop her head. The gold ornament which kept her hair in place, and of course her striking beauty were the only indications remaining of her noble birth.
“Uhm… Miss Siewyn…?” Amerlynn began.
“Yes…? What is it, Amerlynn?”
“I-I was just wondering… What are you going to do now?”
Siewyn frowned. “Well, I guess that’s hard to say…” Thinking a moment longer she explained, “I think I want to have adventures, just like the whole ordeal we just went through. Only… I’d like to do more, you know?”
Destin tilted his head at the suggestion. “I don’t know if I’d call being attacked by an army of the dead an ‘adventure’… It seems to me you’d have to be pretty crazy to want to go through something like that again.”
“Lady Freya seemed to think you sure enjoyed yourself, Sir Destin,” Amerlynn commented without thinking.
Destin hung his head with a sigh. “I still can’t believe she stayed an extra day just to sit around talking to you…”
Siewyn nodded. “Yeah. And to think that we wouldn’t even know her name if it wasn’t for Amerlynn.”
“So hey…” Destin began, “what’s the story with that anyway? How did you get her to tell you her name?”
Amerlynn lowered her gaze, clasping her hands as she pressed her lip with the joint of her finger. “Oh… well… I-I guess I already knew it… I met her father when I was a little girl, and she reminded me of him.”
Destin turned to her in surprise. “Truly? …Wow… That’s one heck of a chance encounter.”
“So what did you talk about?” Siewyn asked.
“Lots of things,” Amerlynn answered, simply.
The three of them continued on their way, speaking of whatever crossed their minds almost endlessly. Amerlynn had never considered herself to be a very sociably person, but the joy of have traveling companions was an amazing experience to her. She had never regretted all of the lonely journeys she had made in her life, and yet, for the first time, she was actually enjoying one of them. This was a journey where she did not have to be alone. She couldn’t help but fear what would come when it ended.
Finally they came to a small clearing, and Destin stopped. He didn’t say anything at first, but Amerlynn noticed that his hands were shaking.
“S-sir… Destin…?”
Amerlynn’s voice seemed to break Destin from his daze. “O-oh…? Uh, sorry about that. I was just thinking about something…” He paused again for a moment, then shaking his head. “Do you two mind if we wait here a moment? I lost something around here the first time through.”
Destin began searching the clearing, and after a brief amount of time he stopped. Bending over, he lifted a halberd from grass. He looked over the weapon with an expression which Amerlynn could not place. If anything, she supposed it would have been similar to the way Freya looked at Galadbolg. Suddenly Destin swung the weapon through the air, holding it at the apex of its swing. He smiled as he lowered the weapon. “Thank you for waiting. Do you two need to rest for a moment?”
There was something about all of this… Something in this moment struck Amerlynn; about Destin; about the weapon in his hand. And so, Amerlynn began to come to a very important realization about the man before her. “Destin…” she whispered to herself.
Amerlynn’s thoughts however were halted for a moment by a poke in the ribs from Siewyn. Siewyn gave her a coy smile before turning to Destin. “Hey! I’m going to go ahead a little and clear my head. How about you guys rest for a moment and then catch up?” Amerlynn suddenly had the very distinct feeling that Siewyn had the wrong idea as to what she was thinking about.
“Well… Okay, but… I don’t really see why…” Destin’s words trailed off as Siewyn gained more and more distance between them. Turning to Amerlynn, he said, “You don’t need to worry about it if you’re tired. We’re not in any hurry.”
“U-h…!” Amerlynn began with a start. “Th-ank you…” After a few moments, Amerlynn resolved to speak her mind. “Uhm… Sir… Destin…?”
“Yes?”
“I was just… thinking… That halberd… It isn’t rusted at all.”
Destin turned to his weapon. “Huh… Yeah, you’re right. Lucky, huh? Haha!”
Amerlynn shook her head. “No… Not really. That crest on the blade… I’ve seen it before…”
“Oh…?” Destin answered slowly, his expression beginning to sink.
Amerlynn nodded. “It’s the… crest of Arlos… Not just that, but… its a special emblem. I read about the House of Arlos… I remember that the House is most famed for their blades of enchanted steel. Their weapons are extremely durable, indestructible even, and the blades never rust, no matter how long they might be left in the rain. Particularly, and more recently the head of the Arlos family is known for his supreme skill with the halberd… as well as… …th-e… one known as the lost son of…”
“That’s enough…”
Amerlynn cringed back. It wasn’t as though Destin had spoken in an angry voice. In fact, his voice was somehow calming. But still… Amerlynn couldn’t help but feel that she may have overstepped a line. “I… I’m sorry…”
“I’m just the captain of a small towns militia… Nothing more, and nothing less. The halberd is just a tool… but… a great tool. And one which I cannot seem to part with. I’m really, no one special… and if you don’t mind, I’d like to stay that way.”
Amerlynn nodded. “Y-yes… Yes, I understand.”
Destin sighed. He seemed relieved, and his voice was most earnest when he said, “Thank you, Amerlynn.” ________________________________________
The following afternoon, they arrived at the small town Destin defended. While Destin went to report in, and give the unfortunate news to the families of the militiamen he had lost, and Siewyn left intent on purchasing a sword, Amerlynn was left to wander.
She had already made up her mind. Even before speaking to Freya… But the spear maiden’s words only served to add to her conviction. She wanted nothing more than to be able to use the knowledge she had gained in a way that she would not regret. She didn’t want to let the darkness in the world torment people. She had decided… There is a power in knowledge… There is more importantly, a meaning in action. She would use the knowledge she gained to help people, in any way that she could find.
In spite of her conviction however, Amerlynn did not so much as know where to begin. And so, she had no course but to wander the town for now. That’s when she smelt it… The scent of freshly baked bread, lofting out of an open window. She had stumbled upon a bakery, and could not help but to peer inside. What she saw however, was anything but what she expected.
Attending to the bakery was a cheerful old man, a smile struck up on his face that seemed as though it could never be removed. This was not, however, the expression the old man had worn when last she met him. This was the man formerly known as ‘Abbot’. And in that moment, she remembered one particular conversation with the spear maiden known as Freya, which had remained with her more than any other.
…I eventually began to wonder… If it is possible, do you think that… the dead could forgive Bard? …To forgive him… for not striking his arrow true sooner.
The answer is quite simple if you put your mind to it. The truth of the matter is, that if the dead were capable of offering such a thing, or of withholding it… their response… would not matter in the slightest.
The world is a dark and frightening place. Many evils lurk behind every rock and yet… the world continues, and hope itself prevails. Therefore, worry not my friend of the opinions of those who are lost. Instead, cherish the lives of those who were not. They are the ones who deserve your attention, as they are the ones standing before the darkness along side you. And if you do indeed cherish them, and their memories, and hold hope in your heart, even the dark will not frighten you, if for the glory of the light at the coming dawn.
…The story continues… ever…
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Post by Deveon on Oct 25, 2009 17:26:00 GMT -5
((Very Very GOOD! - you are keeping on the edge of my seat waiting to see what happens next!!! Quick question, is Freya a char you play on LOTRO or any of the others like Paugo?
Keep up the good work, love it!))
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Post by Tallaith on Oct 25, 2009 17:33:43 GMT -5
Wow. I'm not sure what else to say but you have talent! You're an awesome storyteller!
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Post by amerlynn on Oct 25, 2009 17:58:45 GMT -5
((Thank you. I truly appreciate your kind words, and will try to keep up the standard I've set with the following chapters. As to the characters, Freya is in fact an alt that I play; currently a lvl 15 Warden. Destin is of course a captain, and Paugo is a burglar. Interestingly, Siewyn was original just an extra character, but as I thought about the story I began to grow fond of her, and actually created her in-game as a Minstrel, which fits rather well with her personality and abilities. Incidentally, I deleted Paugo to make room for her... Heheh. I'll recreate Paugo when I get the Adventurers pack.))
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Post by Tallaith on Oct 25, 2009 18:31:14 GMT -5
((Thank you. I truly appreciate your kind words, and will try to keep up the standard I've set with the following chapters. I'll recreate Paugo when I get the Adventurers pack.)) Two things. One. You're an awesome storyteller and we're proud to have you! We all love sharing and reading what each other has to say. And two, sounds like you're an altaholic too! *winks*
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Post by maddux on Oct 25, 2009 20:26:22 GMT -5
Excellent work. I look forward to reading more.
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Post by brendur on Oct 26, 2009 11:01:22 GMT -5
;D This is great stuff! I LOVE your prologue, very strong wording and very profound thinking.
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Post by amariedan on Oct 26, 2009 13:05:40 GMT -5
really delicious pizza! er... i mean, wicked awesome story! ((sorry am eating delicious pizza while i read)) Amerlynn reminds me of Agent Paper from Read or Die, really cool nerdy bookworm type and all that, love it!
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Post by amerlynn on Nov 6, 2009 2:15:01 GMT -5
Alright! Chapter 3 has been added! I hope everyone enjoys. I know I had a great time writing it.
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Post by Deveon on Nov 8, 2009 20:04:52 GMT -5
My thoughts so far; The abbey in general reminds me of Hotel California by the Eagles. Like a very very creepy version of that song.
Amerlynn is brilliant! Easily distracted, foolishly brave, and yet powerful beyond belief. Freya is hardcore, I love her resolve this last chapter. And presenting Galadbolg at the end as a cliff hanger of sorts, nicely done.
A lot of care has gone into character development without overdoing it. Paugo is my favorite. Self-absorbed, narcissistic, yet the heart of gold... well maybe lol.
This was quite the action packed chapter. Once more a great read, keep em coming.
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Post by amerlynn on Jan 7, 2010 1:24:53 GMT -5
And, after a great deal of putting it off, and procrastinating and such... I've finally finished the fourth and final chapter, and added it to my original posts! Though, not without incident... I've gotta say, I am very impressed with just how much text you can put into one single post, and yet... it still wasn't enough!
I am tremendously proud of how the story turned out. As I went, it just kept getting bigger and bigger, and before I know it, I'm finally getting to write down the word 'Epilogue' on page 64. While I certainly am proud of my work here, I also believe that like all human endevours, it is fundamentally imperfect, and so I'll greatly appreciate any comments or feedback anyone might want to give. Other than that, I just sincerely hope you enjoy the finale, and expect the 'Epilogue' within the next two days. Thank you all, and happy reading.
P.S.
Ah, and also, it occurs to me that I took some substantial liberties with the 'source material'. I hope it doesn't bog things down at all...
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