Mace took a deep uneasy, nervous breath. Two, he counted two strange armored creatures and one wounded Wavern with flayed wings, torn scales and nothing else. Not another entity in the sky or one behind, he knew.
He knew the south was secure but what were the odds that faced him from the north?
It was something he didn’t quiet want to answer. He was outnumbered by one, disregarding the Wavern that was already injured, cornered and a more so against the taloned, winged creatures then Mace himself. In that case it was an even fight but Mace, however long he practiced, definitely wasn’t at all confident in his ability to wield the chained weapons effectively. Because of this he kept a tight magical grip on the crossbow he balanced on the blade of one drawn chain blade.
He couldn't take cover behind the brush far off in the distance like he would as a falconer because he was already discovered and in plain sight. He was completely out of his element and if he was to engage combat the very possible outcome were he lost didn’t seem too unlikely or too favorable.
The creatures both took one advancing step. Mace defensively stepped back and the wavern roared and hissed them away as it crushed a tree beneath its skin torn wing. One creature had its eye and its weapon set for the Wavern, the next had its eye on Mace but the halberd withdrawn but only for a moment before it decided that pony was a threat however smaller it was.
“Back!” he yelled as he threw a taunting blade arcing it around before catching it again.
At this the creatures sprang into combat, one flying into the air, the next standing on two as it flayed out its wings and held its weapons in both talions as it approached Mace with intent to kill.
This was it, this was why he practiced and it was for dire moments like this.
Mace opened up with an arrow aimed for its face however the beast was swift and with a flap of its wings dashed out of the way leftwards, as it kneeled to the ground. Another wing beat and it rushed Mace completely as it brought down its massive halberd head on the pony.
Mace couldn't believe the speed of such a large armored creature. He dashed north, out of the way and countered with an ark of his blade. The creature ducked back and away before advancing again with a thrust followed up by a swing.
Only one could be dodged the second was halted when Mace raised both blades in an attempt to block it. The force however was just too great and with the weight of the halberd, the force applied and the angle at which it struck, Mace’s light blades just couldn’t hold up for defense.
It was the armor that saved his life as he sailed through the air only to come crashing down against the dirt. He wasn’t hurt or afflicted with any mortal wound but was more so shocked by the power and force behind its attack. Not only that but its tactical movement it placed on him before attacking. This was indeed a formidable creature.
Catching his breath he slowly began to pick himself up. The creature was advancing albeit leisurely obviously giving Mace the grace of calvary and not just finishing him off right then and there as he laid dazed on the ground.
As Mace stood on two he looked past the beast only to see the Wavern in a battle of its own, and like Mace, a losing one. The creature all ways kept in the air as it flew left, and right and round the grounded wavern. It would try in vain to catch the stallions beast, even breathing fire occasionally but with its torn wings and ineffectiveness on the ground it wasn’t log before the creature dove down plunging the halberd deep within the nape of the dragon.
Its head fell to the floor, its body writhed as it began to swiftly die. Mace watched as the creature withdrew and reapplied the blade to the scales of the Wavern over and over until it lay still with blood that scorched the dirt and steamed into the air.
Carefully removing the halberd it balanced it on the neck of the beast and as Mace looked on, the creature sat with its armor and weapons and began watching. It watched Mace as he put up his defenses, but most of all it watched its own kin as it insured combat with the smaller threat. It wasn't precisely that this thing thought that his peer was capable of killing the pony on its own but more so the shame that would come with having to overwhelm a smaller opponent, so it sat and it eagerly watched.
Mace took a deep breath, calmed his nerves, regained his poise and readied himself for battle. His opponent that so easily stood on two took a wide stance and with wings flayed open readied himself for combat.
Igneous had said it was all about the first move; the way you open up that will determine the fight. Mace saw no such opportunity or had the ability to read particular movements. With no other option and tension bearing down he collapsed his blade to a spear and threw it forward like a dagger. His aim was perfected and the technique was sound and precise but it was not combat applied or proper in anycase.
The creature easily saw the forecasting of the attack and dodged out of its linear path letting it sail by. As the chained stricken it reached out and snatched it in its armored, razored talons. Mace’s heart skipped a beat and in that moment where he felt the control of his weapon fail all he could muster was one word. One word that embodied this moment, this dire moment of life and death itself and there failure there upon him. It was a word that was used for centuries, a millennia even and ever since the first day of pony was this word wrote into the ale suffering and jolly goodness. Only one word embodied this moment and only one word was all he could express himself with.
“Taff.”
Instantly he was yanked forward, tumbling over himself twice before flying past the taller creature. He tried to regain his ground and pick himself up but before he could the creature weaved its halberd around the chains in a tangle making it unable to be pulled free. With it he swung the halberd around and as a result so did Mace as his body was mercilessly wracked across the landscape around and around bouncing off dirt, grass and snow of all kind. Only after a few long arduous moments did he finally come to a sudden hard stop against a protruding boulder only after having his speed slowed down by a kindly trunk of a tree that happened to bloom in his way.
At this point he lost faith in his weapons. He questioned, how could chained blades be practical ever in any pony’s wildest fantasies? How could one even control them, it was ridiculous! This was the thing, this death trap was supposed to be the very same tool, weapon, that brought down the black dragon Aminus.
‘I couldn't be,’ he thought as he was thrown again and again against the surrounding landscape, armor withstanding but the softer bits of his body not as much as he was flailed left and right before the chains slipped and slung loose from the halberd sending Mace into the air only to come crashing back down to the ground.
His mind spun, his body exploded with pain all over and in an instance all energy, strength and will he had to fight, to stand for his life, fled his body and mind leaving him nothing but his senses and even then they weren’t savory. He couldn’t move, couldn’t act but could only endure as he laid there broken all over and very nearly dead. His crossbow had broken away, his wooden bolts laid strewn about the area and his chained blade stretched uselessly away from him as he ceased to even bother to lift them. There he laid in the snow that began to lose its pure whiteness for dark crimson red as he timidly began dying out with consciousness slipping fastly away.
He looked before him as his head laid in the snow and saw the creature untangle the chain its talons until the halberd fell free. Then it again stood on two and began making its way towards the pony who cared not to move but was too weak and injured to do so anyways.
By now Mace would have considered himself dead for the eighth time in his entire life. The first five were during his relatively innocent days when things were much simpler and he was a falconer fighting simpleton bandits, thieves and monsters. The latter three during his more malicious days in Carridian, the final one of those three being this moment as he saw his fate bear down upon hims. This time there was no doubt, this time he’d truly met his match but with tiredness setting in he only hoped he could last long enough to see it through till the end.
However he again found death seemed to favor the alternative and Mace felt he should have caught on by now that the last thing this world favored was the covenantor dying out leaving Noriphmy to the will of the plagued covenant. The last thing Mace felt was the ground shake beneath him as he laid there. The creatures seemed to panic and look past Mace before scurrying away and taking off into the air in retreat from some unseen entity, at least to Mace that was.
The last thing he saw was a shadow over take him upon the snow before he lost all vision.
When he awoke again there was no light, just white with the darkness of the night sky cascaded over the landscape. However it wasn’t that he was concerned about, more rightly the fact that he was oddly elevated off the ground as it shifted beneath him. It was interesting to the deliriously injured stallion and so he never thought much of it as he found it rather satisfying, this mind bending, law defying stunt he was performing. It was pleasing to see and for some reason lulled him back to sleep as he disregarded the deep set voices that spoke harshly around him or the heavy set figure that carried him on its back.
However Mace wouldn’t be so blissfully unaware for long because as daylight reigned his sensibility fell back into place as well as his judgment and general mind set could he actually see where he was.
He found himself lying in the dirt and at first glance he thought it was completely normal. He was traveling and he stopped to rest late in the night and soon he would be up and ready to travel further and deeper into Freth. Maybe he would even practice his magic and continue training with the chained blade.
He thought it would be a rather average day and so he laid to rest again but only a brief moment later did he realize what really happened the night before. He’d found a wavern injured and grounded, been attack shortly afterwards where he’d been brutally injured and left to die. Only then did Mace realize the light and the shadows that lingered before him.
In an instance he surged upwards in panic unaware of the situation and dreary to his surroundings. He heard a rumble come from the light and the shadows around it but as Mace tried to back away he tripped over something metallic and snakelike. Whatever it was it wrapped around his legs and binded him from moving whereas he began to panic and scream out for his life unaware just how lucid he really was.
In his panicked state there was only one thing that brought him down to his senses but it wasn’t something native to Carridian. Listening Mace heard a few words being spoken slowly and easily. They made no sense to him but through just listening alone he could tell that they were words of intelligence and ease.
Mace’s eyes had been rolling about and his legs thrashing too but at these strange foreign words he somehow found himself to be calm and as his body rested and he fell to the floor docile and calm did he finally make sense of the world around him and the beings in which he was in the presence of.
Looking around he found he was in a densely treed area where no lights shone through giving Mace the false impression of being in an empty area void of sun or light. The thing he tripped on wasn’t some snake or vine made of metal but his own chains that got caught between his legs in the panic. The light off in the distance also wasn’t his demise but rather a campfire but what stood about the fire Mace found truly interesting.
Standing all around, four in total, all facing Mace with concern written all over their face stood figures for which Mace could only describe as nothing more than Giants.
One stood forward before the rest. Its hooves seemed massive compared to Mace’s and in fact each and every one of them seemed to be larger by a count of one when it came to measurements. However the first, who stood forward, he had a Catalyst. He had armor made of hardened leather and held together by studs and bits of metal that draped over his sides and around his neck. His mane was braided with rings running through each knot and beads strung together with leather. Along his side hung a sword massive but simple with a standard hilt wrapped and bound, and a blade long and flat, sturdy and trustworthy. One his other side hung a shield round and made of metal, bound and made to protect.
Everything about this particular giant seemed immensely common with the ponies Mace had always associated himself with. Combat ready and willing to kill with a fire engraven in the eye as he charged for battle. However Mace saw no fire only concern.
Behind him stood an earth giant armored nearly the exact same way but much more heavily and with a face that hid behind a mask made of metal but lined with wool. Behind that were Celestials armored with what could only be described as the purest looking metal and blades that lined the feathers much the same way they did with Kara and her Falconering outfit. They stood with wings splayed open but not in offense but surprise when laying eyes on the small looking, what they might call, giant.
But of these giants Mace only looked to the first for it spoke softly, for a giant, and easily. He understood nothing of what he said but by the tone alone and the easiness of his speech he knew he was in no danger.
Slowly the unicorn giant took one step forward to Mace and then another. Mace looked down at himself and untangled his hoof from the chains and sat up from where he lay watching earnestly as the giant rested a hoof on Mace’s forehead.
As he sat there Mace felt something being drawn out, something little and soft and when he looked he saw a little white sprite in the hoof of the giant. The giant razed it to the ground bursting it and many smaller particles burst outward and grouped up at its ears, shimmered then darkened to nothing.
For a moment this giant stood there hovering over this smaller being armor and all but before to much time passed this giant spoke one word, “L-life... “ He spoke with a deep voice and one forcefully contorted to understanding and pronouncing this foreign language. Again it spoke this time a new word, “Exsi-existence.” It may have taken a moment but Mace soon recognized the words but he knew not why he was saying these particular phrases. “D-eath. Bir-rth. Er... Hunger, food, home.”
The giant then looked down to the pony as if for an answer to the words he just spoke but Mace couldn’t make sense of it or know what it was asking. Tilting his head Mace asked, “What?”
The giant shifted, looked away in thought then said, “These wo-words. You understand?”
“Yes,” he dumbly answered some what awestruck. “I do.”
The giant seemed to breath a sigh of relief. “A sh-show of intelligence,” it said in a deep voice. “Concepts of l-life and death. Fear you might ru-run pigmy.”
“Pigmy?” Mace questioned.
“Small…” he answered. “What do you call your kind pigmy?”
“Pony,” he answered. “Not a smaller giant.” He looked passed this giant who sat so innocently in armor and to the trio behind who now sat in place near the warmth of the fire but close enough to see him and the convention taking place between two different kins. “What do you call yourselves?”
“Oh, n-not a larger pony.” It seemed that was somewhat of a joke as Mace did just practically clarify that he was not a smaller large in his own term. “My kind,” it began by resting a hoof on its own chest armor. “We are h-horses. We r-rescued you from Griffons on our territory. I am healer, I fixed your bones and me-nded those wounds given to y-you.”
“Griffons?” Mace asked again. Pointing a north he asked, “those... things that attacked the wavern, yes?”
“Yes, Griffons,” he answered.
Looking the giant over and examining its blade Mace said, “I haven’t met too many healers who wielded blades as large as that.”
“War type,” the giant answered. “For a kind in w-ar all horses, me too, prepped for c-combat constantly.”
“Who are you at war with?”
The giant shifted in place and looked back to the fire and his peers. “May we speak by the flame? My kind would probably like to k-know more about your kind.”
Mace nodded but asked, “are you going to share that magic you summoned from me?”
“I cannot but once a day,” he answered. “Information is drawn on by power and one must be powerful enough to summon it away. Once a day pony... Now let us go, I can speak for them.”
Mace agreed and it wasn’t long before the smaller kin took his place by the fire surrounded by larger kins accompanied with the unicorn that spoke for them. The first thing Mace learned was their names. The unicorn that healed Mace turned out to be Mynearrith, healer among the group and alchemist too. He didn’t favor his blade as much as he did his magic but he had explained it was required amongst his kind to always be at reliable arms and so he dawned the blade and shield.
Mace would also meet the others in time as he neared the fire and fell into view before all of them. The celestials sat by one another, one seemed more of a mare while the other seemed strongly built with wide contemptuous form with eyes set for the pigmy that seemed equally scornful. If anything the two looked identical. The earth bound whose face was concealed by armor was the one who spoke first in a language Mace couldn’t understand.
Sitting amongst these giants really made Mace feel small like how a house cat might differ from a pony. The fire was big and a welcome warmth since he lost his wolf fleece in the battle and although the same could be said for his crossbow that he also lost, Mace actually spied it among one of the celestials but as to why he had it Mace didn’t know.
Mynearrith lowered his head and spoke for his friend, the earth type. “He would like to know your name.”
“Oh, uh, Mace is the name,” he said looking to the earth type. Mynearrith answered and specified that he was a pony too for that was the only word Mace recognised when he mentioned it.
The next question asked was from the celestial that wore his crossbow and Mynearrith spoke saying, “he said he will having you know that he leads me and the rest.” The celestial added something else and Mace could tell there was a degree of disrespect in his voice towards the pony. “He said his name is Nalth.”
“Nalth,” Mace repeated giving the winged horse a nod despite his outgoing rudeness.
“Now he has questions,” Mynearrith said as Nalth began to speak rather bruntly in his language. “He would like to know what happened back there, why you fought against those griffons… but… more importantly… he is concerned with why you found yourself on this land and what an earth type like you is doing with chains and crossbow.”
“Well, that's a lot of questions,” Mace muttered unsure where to start. “Will there be a time when I can ask mine?”
“Perhaps,” Mynearrith shrugged.
Nodding Mace took a breath, began with the first question and worked his way on down the list as Mynearrith translated for the others. “I was… traveling when I spied a grounded wavern. I… was concerned for the beast so I approached only to find the wings had been flayed and its predators not far behind. They ensued combat and I had no choice to fight for myself however it wasn’t long before…”
Mace was interrupted by Nalth as he spoke one single word. “He wants to know how you fought,” Mynearrith said. The celestial adding a few more words as Mynearrith explained, “you being… an earth type that can’t wield or control magic…” Nalth hoofed the crossbow dropping it to the ground near the fire as he continued to speak. “Strapped with chains and a weapon only magic types can use.”
If Mace could be honest with himself and the giants he would say he didn’t know why he could use magic or wield chains only saying that he could and that he was a Hexer. Infact a Hexer was probably the best explanation he could give for anyone and himself for he didn’t even know why most things these past months had ever come to pass, just that they did.
Fiddling with the chain Mace slowly drew one of them up in his magical grip until the blade leveled out next to his face in its crescent form. “I'm a Hexer,” he said with confidence as he then let crescent blade dangle by the chain before spinning it in a tight circle before them.
“Without the glow of a catalyst?” Mynearrith spoke as Nalth began to doubtedly ramble on while the two other giants looked on with great wonder. “Or catalyst on fore… he says it's impossible, and bearing a catalyst myself... I’d like to agree. What are you?” he asked with interest as he eyed the chain curiously. “I’ve never seen a weapon like this used by or made by horses. Are Hexers a... subspecies of your kind?”
Offering up the best explanation he could Mace began to explained unsure as to if he was even right. “They-we kill majins, magic monsters. We then... steal away their power and put it to our own use.” That was about all he knew and beyond that Mace really was just inferring for them and himself. “A Majin’s magic was… otherworldly containing… different properties that allowed not-catalyst bearing ponies to wield it but... only if they killed it,” he pointed.
Nalth spoke a few words the nodded to Mynearrith. “How powerful are they?”
“Very,” Mace assured forgetting for a moment that included him at the word ‘they.’
Nalth then leaned forward as he began to mutter something in a doubtful tone of voice as he eyed the smaller kin. “So you lost a fight against the griffons being… as other worldly powerful as you are? His words,” he assured fearing Mace might take him as being rude.
“I’m a novice,” was the only answer Mace could come up with. “And… the last of my kind.”
When Mynearrith repeated these words Nalth response was short and concise. “He…” Mynearrith began. “Wants to know… power, the power one possesses as a Hexer.” Nalth then added what seemed to be two words. “He’s… challenging you Mace. ‘Show me,’ his words.”
“What gives him the right?” Mace asked as he eyed the celestial indignantly.
Mynearrith’s explanation was simple. “The heir to the throne and one with great ambition,” he warned.
Mace nearly scoffed as he eyed the larger kin. “I should know the ambition of a prince,” he muttered.
“Please,” Mynearrith came. “Don’t dissatisfy him. It was by me he let you be rescued.”
“What does he want from me then?” Mace asked as he observed the heir even more hatefully now than previously.
“A display of power,” he answered quickly. “Any kind he finds sufficient, for you do say Hexers were powerful, no? You also say you killed a majin; beast of great power, yes?”
It was a rhetorical question and one that had already been answered so Mace forgo answering it for his own. “Why would he want to challenge me?”
Mynearrith glanced to Nalth before answering simply, “he seeks allies.”
Nalth stood up suddenly just as Mace was about to ask another question. Apparently he was growing increasingly impatient with Mace’s stubbornness to comply and so he trampled over the fire, splayed out his wings in a display of dominance. He causing Mace to fall back into the darkness but in full view of the armored horse in case Mace tried something he found unfavorable.
“Very,” Mace assured forgetting for a moment that included him at the word ‘they.’
Nalth then leaned forward as he began to mutter something in a doubtful tone of voice as he eyed the smaller kin. “So you lost a fight against the griffons being… as other worldly powerful as you are? His words,” he assured fearing Mace might take him as being rude.
“I’m a novice,” was the only answer Mace could come up with. “And… the last of my kind.”
When Mynearrith repeated these words Nalth response was short and concise. “He…” Mynearrith began. “Wants to know… power, the power one possesses as a Hexer.” Nalth then added what seemed to be two words. “He’s… challenging you Mace. ‘Show me,’ his words.”
“What gives him the right?” Mace asked as he eyed the celestial indignantly.
Mynearrith’s explanation was simple. “The heir to the throne and one with great ambition,” he warned.
Mace nearly scoffed as he eyed the larger kin. “I should know the ambition of a prince,” he muttered.
“Please,” Mynearrith came. “Don’t dissatisfy him. It was by me he let you be rescued.”
“What does he want from me then?” Mace asked as he observed the heir even more hatefully now than previously.
“A display of power,” he answered quickly. “Any kind he finds sufficient, for you do say Hexers were powerful, no? You also say you killed a majin; beast of great power, yes?”
It was a rhetorical question and one that had already been answered so Mace forgo answering it for his own. “Why would he want to challenge me?”
Mynearrith glanced to Nalth before answering simply, “he seeks allies.”
Nalth stood up suddenly just as Mace was about to ask another question. Apparently he was growing increasingly impatient with Mace’s stubbornness to comply and so he trampled over the fire, splayed out his wings in a display of dominance. He causing Mace to fall back into the darkness but in full view of the armored horse incase Mace tried something he found unfavorable.
“Alright!” Mace shouted as he drew up his chains. One came to him but the other became pinned beneath the hoof of the giant that tauntingly stood before him. “I’ll do it,” he said half to Mynearrith, half to the heir. “I’ll do it.”
The heir’s poise loosened at the words of the translation but he didn’t let off the chain. Mace then began racking his brain with the magic he had learned, but a quick overview of his venture he found everything he could show too insufficient to display.
What did he know? Simple alchemy and maybe some light magic. He had no bound weapons so he couldn’t perform dark magic and he wasn’t at all competent with his chains. The misuse of them during the fight with those griffons had proven that stomping any confidence he had within them to dust.
However just as Mace began to think his fate was assured he remembered one trick, if at all it could be called one. A perk more like to having joined the covenant of Guardian. He haddn’t tried it, and if he was being honest with himself, forgot it. What did he say he had to do? Draw blood intentionally or otherwise then… call his name. Guardian.
But how much of him? He said summoning his whole body would use up plenty of light magic but how much would it really be? How much was Mace capable of holding? What happened if he ran out?
Mace was drawn out of his mind and questions when Nalth made one step of an advancement in reminder of the stakes if he failed to deliver. Then Mace figured it mattered not if he ran out for if he didn’t he died and if running out of magic killed him he died and so slowly drawing up a single chain he set it against his hoof like smiths he saw before do as well. Wincing as he pushed down and pulled he pierced the skin with a deep and gradual cut that drew out a healthy amount of blood from his hide.
Panting from the minor pain Mace let the blood dribble to the grass as every horse looked on with interest, Nalth more doubtfully. With a single breath Mace drew he muttered, “Guardian, I summon all of you.”
With a rush of wind Mace suddenly felt like the air from his very being had been drawn away as a bright light enveloped his vision and a form took shape before him. Nalth stepped back in wonder and the others behind him backed away as the figure began to sharpen into its true form taking the shape of the white majin known as Guardian with a spiny tail and razor claws and lanky head with no eyes but many teeth.
Mace nearly fell over as just summoning this persona left him feeling suffocated of air but he breathed just fine with no pause of breath. When he looked to Guardian he could see through his very presence as it bore down in a predatory-like stance and defended Mace.
Nalth had flayed his wings in defence as the rest of the party fell back including Mynearrith who drew his sword. Nalth shouted something and Mynearrith spoke saying, “He Wants To Know If It Means Harm And By My Gods I Do To!”
“Guardian!” Mace called assuming he could hear him in this form. “Guardian!” he called again as he ran around to the front of the beast that sat there daring the larger kin to advance, daring them to attack and give it the reason to take action and slay them with its razor claws and spiked tail.
However when Mace called a third time only then did it seem to look down, for a beast with no eyes it seemed, and see Mace. But unlike when Mace had spoken and seen Guardian in the flesh, beastly as he was, guardian in person seemed more… intelligent and methodical in the way he presented himself, moved and spoke. Almost like the intelligence of a pony but here this beast seemed more war born and eager to fight.
Looking to the beast Mace felt an unfamiliarity towards it; it was guardian in form but it wasn’t guardian in nature. It was obedient but nothing more, like a domesticated dog and the faithful companions they are.
This thing was not guardian but it obeyed and seeing it wasn’t truly needed it disappeared with Mace’s word only after Nalth was made a believer of his power. The power not of a Hexer.
With his one final chained blade free of Nalths hoof Mace gathered it up and hung it at his side like the other. Then he looked to the giants, Mynearrith and the hair who muttered to Mynearrith for translation. “It seems whatever gods you worship favors you,” Mynearrith spoke in amazement equal to Nalth’s linguistic version. “He wants to know, are you a messenger of the aether or one bestowed with a duty?” Nalth then asked another question and his bladed wings folded up as he took his place sitting on the ground before Mace. “Or are you a demigod from high?”
“I’m…” He took a moment to think before answering, “us Hexers were demigods. We were many in number but after the days of Aminus we became raptured. Whisked away to join Forrulla, goddess of power and good health, our duty in Noriphmy was complete as each Majin had finally been destroyed.” A bit of history spliced with mythology surely would convince any outsider, or giant, of the agenda Mace strived to accomplish. “However it seems a curse looms. Perhaps you know or perhaps the griffons themselves as I see they occupy the north western part of Noriphmy and Freath, the accursed third nation.”
Mynearrith took his time translating for Mace while Nalth listened with peccant respect. However when Mace heard the nouns Noriphmy and Freath he saw Nalth’s ears perk up at the word Freath in particular. “That sunken bane in the mountains?” Mynearrith spoke for Nalth. Mace then witnessed Nalth look south, then north west then back to Mace before speaking again. “He... he wants you to come Mace.” Nalth waved his head for him to follow and the celestial and earth kin began making their way with him westward.
“Where is he taking me?” Mace asked Mynearrith as he too began to follow.
Mynearrith’s answer was simple. “To see the king.” Taking the crossbow from Nalth’s armor Mynearrith transferred it to Mace before finishing. “The king of our kind Mace.”