Rodin Everblaze
I had gotten up in time to share breakfast with Sophia, something I’ve actually had the time to do, recently.
But it’s looking like that luxury is being denied to me today.
In exiting the gatehouse, juggling both Sophia’s food and my own, I am forced to maneuver through a rather large crowd of guards. Many of these guards are stark naked, and I make sure to shield Sophia’s eyes as we move. I am not all that surprised; I’ve seen and heard of the sergeants coming up with some rather draconian punishments over the years.
It isn’t until after we made it through them that I realized that I recognized their faces.
Many of those faces I last saw twisted into visages of death, their bodies torn apart or crushed beneath their armor. Briefly, I relive those events, the smell of ash and blood returning to my senses. I shake my head.
Did I just hallucinate them? I wonder.
Turning, I see that they are very much real, and still very naked. Well, at least the view isn’t as awkward from behind, I think silently, grinning in spite of myself. A quick head count confirms my suspicions; there are more guards in that crowd than are supposed to be currently alive.
According to Samuel, we lost a significant fraction of our people in that battle and even more had been seriously wounded, yet Mender had pulled them through for us.
Apparently only around a third of the force that originally set out had returned conscious and ambulatory.
While I ponder this mystery, and continue to question whether or not I’m actually still in my bed dreaming blissfully, Sophia tugs on my hand and points behind me, away from the crowd of guards.
“Daddy, what is that thing?” she asks, voice full of curiosity.
Turning around quickly, I find that all my confusion evaporates at a familiar sight. “That is Discord, Sophia. He always looks like that.”
I’m somewhat surprised that she hasn’t seen him before, but I suppose it’s relatively easy to miss seeing a god if they don’t want you to see them.
‘The chaotic one’ is hovering near a small group of guards, headed by Samuel himself, if I’m not mistaken, and a small crowd of men and women, headed by our fair Governor. This easily explains the dead walking again; tales have told of the gods resurrecting fallen heroes, though the occasion is a rare one. It would seem that this is something our worlds have in common.
As I approach the god and the crowd, I catch the tail end of something that was probably important.
“Only one day?” Governor Birchwood is asking. “We’ll be hard pressed to get everything ready in so short a time.”
“As I said,” Discord mutters impatiently, “It’s out of my control, so do what you can. Moving forward! You humans need magic.” He snaps his fingers, and a bright light washes over us. “There, you have it.”
I look down, feeling for any differences in my magic. Nothing seems immediately apparent… so I quickly cast my sight spell, my eyes glowing their usual red.
As the world’s color twists into new hues, I can see right away what has changed. Normally my body is suffused in the reddish light of my aura, and that is the only color present in my body. Now, that aura is still there, but my skin shines with trillions of little pinpricks of light. Looking closer, each pinprick is of a different color, and isn’t even fixed. They shift around, flowing slowly in strange currents and eddies.
The strangest thing is that I feel no different.
Looking around me, I see that Sophia’s aura looks a lighter hue than normal, likely due to how her skin shines with her own pinpricks. From a little distance, they appear to mesh together to form a white light, yet combined with her orange aura, the effect is that of a light orange color wherever her skin or hair shows, and a familiar, darker shade of orange where her clothes cover her.
In examining the crowd, my suspicions are confirmed, as their skin and hair also shine with the pinpricks of light. It seems that we were all given this new magic, and yet Sophia and I have kept our Rune Calling as well.
Glancing at Discord-
Wow.
I can’t believe I’ve never bothered to look at him with my magical sight before… Where the Immortal I faced had a singular spark of Divinity in the eye that made up his being, Discord’s form is flooded with that golden energy.
And that energy burns.
Flames of radiant gold flicker away from the god in all directions, the waving tendrils of energy catching my eyes and my mind. I nearly can’t tear my eyes away from the spectacle, and have to force myself to disrupt my sight spell prematurely.
My eyes ache something fierce, and I can feel wetness around them. I think my eyes are bleeding a little bit… damn.
Carefully wiping away what indeed turns out to be blood, I do my best to focus on my original task, ignoring the worried looks I am receiving from the Captain. Well, worried for him equates to a raised eyebrow and a stony glance, but that’s just how he shows it.
“Well that’s certainly interesting,” I state, drawing the attention of the crowd. Till now they’d been awkwardly trying to see if they could use this new magic. “We all do have magic now.” I turn to Discord, trying on a hopeful smile and a pleasant query. “How do we use it?”
Something about Discord’s demeanor thus far had given me the impression that he’s rather upset about something; usually he’s more… laid-back than this. Or at least more jovial. My question seems to alleviate some of whatever was stressing him out, but unfortunately, his expression is now one of utter deviousness.
“Oh, that’s for you to figure out. It’s tradition!” He declares, before vanishing in a puff of bright blue smoke. Even as he disappears, what can only be described as the giggling of a god can be heard echoing away.
Well then. I have my work cut out for me. “Challenge accepted.” I mutter quietly.
To my surprise a scroll appears in front of me, which I catch out of reflex, juggling my breakfast which is growing colder by the minute.
The others look at it with curiosity, but I snap it open and quickly read it before anyone gets a chance to comment on it.
It’s a short message. When it’s over, I can’t help but groan at my own foolishness. Stowing the scroll, I turn and head back into the gatehouse, Sophia in tow. If I can work while we eat, I might be able to make progress before noon.
The Challenge: Learn the basics of your new magic, and name it, (make it a good name!) before 24 hours have passed.
Because you didn’t hear, we’re moving you all out of what remains of that castle tomorrow morning. Have whatever you want to take with you either on you, or in a wagon or something. Your new home will have a lot more space, but no existing infrastructure. Be prepared.
If you win, I’ll give you a present. If you lose… I teach Sophia some new runes… I think I’ll start with ‘Transform’!
Break a leg!
Samuel Weathers
There’s too much to do in too short a time.
I would personally love to let everyone have the day off, just to celebrate those who are returned to us. There was much rejoicing at first, but then I had to deliver the news that killed it.
I had taken a moment to appreciate the baffled and shocked look on Norton Fletcher’s face, apparently just hearing for the first time that we had gone to war as revenge for his death.
Personally, I had thought vengeance wasn’t the ideal motivator for a war, but we did need to eliminate that threat if we wanted to survive, and the council had spoken. Regardless of even my wishes, I could not go against the council.
Scattering the celebration and allocating work parties took the better part of an hour. We needed guards to go cut trees, haul the lumber, and guards to start fashioning them into carts. Thankfully I had lots of civilian labor; apparently Birchwood had anticipated my needs and sent the Woodwork family and a few others my way.
I had an unpleasant conversation about quantity over quality with them though. “I don’t care if they do break down after a few weeks of use, we only need them for a few days anyway! More than anything, we need as many carts as possible! Or are you volunteering to leave your equipment behind?”
They took some convincing, but they told me they’d see what they could do. As much of a pain it is to deal with civilian backtalk, I have to admit, their expertise made the process much easier than it might have been.
By this point, with the sun a few hours past noon, the camp’s been a flurry of activity for several hours. While Bill is directing efforts to tear down and store the more temporary structures, Vern is overseeing the mobilization of what food stores we’ve managed to stockpile in the last few days.
I have Derik overseeing the collection of what loose building materials we have left over, and cannibalizing what we can of the wall that rims our little castle. If nothing else, the raw materials should help jumpstart any building efforts when we get wherever we’re going.
As the sun passes noon, the first few carts are finished. As I watch, I realize that we’re going to have to get creative if we want to take the carts anywhere. We don’t exactly have beasts of burden to pull them for us.
Everywhere I look, I see guards and civilians working side-by side. Birchwood seems to have spread the word quickly and efficiently, nobody has even complained about the fact that we have to leave so far. I haven’t seen him for several hours, but I see the evidence of his work. The people labor with enthusiasm and good humor, focused on tearing down what has been their home for nearly a month now.
Ah. There he is. Our Governor is helping with the removal and packing of our furniture. Come to think of it, that’s a good idea. I don’t fancy sleeping on the ground while we make new beds all over again. I’ll have to do a little re-calculating on how we’re packing the caravan to make room for it all though.
Let’s see…
James Mender
Even while Haley and Devin are in and out of the hospital, packing and loading our stores of medicine and bandages, I sit on one of the few remaining pieces of furniture, not lifting a finger to help them.
The two former paladins sit across from me, on a cot. Despite their best efforts, I made sure they got some sleep last night. It would seem that their grief was all consuming, yet they had collected themselves by my time limit. I might have been impressed by their control, but I had already expected it for the most part. The tales surrounding paladins are inspiring, to say the least.
I am not overly surprised to find that our creators arranged to send two of them with us.
They had declined my offer of something to drink, so I drink my tea alone, the three of us forming an eye of calm in the organized chaos that otherwise fills our little village.
They are silent, waiting for me to begin. Collecting my thoughts, at length I speak. “Some several weeks before the end, you two appeared in our village, sent under the pretext of needing my skill in healing to mend your injuries. The task proved too great for me, yet no message I sent inquiring about where to send you next ever received a reply.” I take a sip, gauging their reactions. The man, seems lightly concerned, his brow furrowed, while the woman simply stares at me, silently commanding me to continue.
“So you remained in our village, heavily in stasis, with wounds that would not close, when the end came. We all expected to die. It was the natural conclusion of months and years of fighting a losing war against them. Our village was rather far to the northeast, and nestled among forest and plain; if they were coming for us then Wisdom was already lost.”
A flicker of emotion passes across the woman’s face. I might have pegged it as regret, but it was too quick. I could always just open my ‘eyes’ and read them like a book…but… no… that way lies ruin.
“All we know about what happened next was that everyone in the village and whatever they were holding at the time were picked up off of our world and planted in this one. The trip was disorienting, but the presence of the gods was still felt during it. I have no doubt in my mind that our gods saved us from the destruction of the world.”
The man seemed like he wasn’t that far off from openly weeping, and the woman too was suppressing tears.
Still they remain silent, waiting for my words. Hmmm.
“Now though, our gods are no longer with us, for this world is not theirs. When we arrived we were alone, though placed here among shelter and bountiful forest. The forest presented danger, but through luck and the actions of our guard, we persevered.” I raise my cup and drink; letting my shift in topic sink in a little.
“We have been here for approximately 21 days, and in that time we have drawn the wrath of an Immortal and then killed him, met with a physically present god, who then decided to claim us as his own, and generally tried our best to survive.”
The expressions on their faces amuse me, as it is good that sorrow has given way to incredulity. Unfortunately, they look like they don’t quite believe me.
“It was the god who healed you of your wounds at my request. And it is at the god’s request that we now gather our belongings, moving to a new home.” I pause, hoping to catch them off balance with my next question. “What caused those wounds of yours, by the way? I’ve never seen anything like them.”
The man opens his mouth to speak, but a glare from the woman silences him. He raises an eyebrow in return, and the woman’s expression slowly fades from one of warning to one of thoughtfulness.
Now I am impressed. Were it not for the vows a paladin swears, I might think these two were married. Silent communication is the hallmark of those who have work together often. Or they might be dabblers in magic that allows telepathy…
I wait for them to respond, my hope for a quick, spontaneously truthful answer shattered.
“A man, wielding an unholy blade, which he claimed was forged by the gods,” the woman says evenly, she’s either devoid of feeling or skillfully suppressing her emotions on the matter. “He possessed a dark power, which proved too much for us and our companions, and he cut us down. His blade shorn through our own like they were so much butter. We both lost consciousness before the fight ended.”
It sounds to me like this was some sort of holy quest, yet they did not seem to want to give me details. Actually, some of the legends surrounding paladins suggested that they are sworn to secrecy more often than not. Which raises the question of how the legends spread in the first place… Hm… Rodin would appreciate that irony.
“I see,” I reply. “All things considered, the truth of the matter is that our village has stayed together in this new world because we are bound by bonds of family and duty, not to mention the demands of survival. However, things are looking up again, and you two have no true obligation to help us. Should you wish to leave and explore this world, that choice is yours. I only ask that you speak first to Captain Weathers, as he can give you a short lesson on the other races that exist here, and what we know of them through the god. If you wish to join the last of humanity in re-building, however, I’m sure the Captain has a place for you in the guard if you want it.”
That being said, I show the two ex-paladins to the door of my hospital, and start helping my assistants with the preparations.
Katharine Winter
The man in front of us is a little taller than average, and solidly built. He wears his armor even now in the heat of the day, as if expecting an attack at any moment. His eyes carry the weight of his years, but they carry them with strength and determination. If I didn’t know better, I’d say I was looking at a fellow paladin.
“I don’t have the time for this,” the man growls at us, “make yourselves useful or scarce. Once we’re underway I might have time do debrief you.”
I frown, but am willing to admit that mine and Sir Fisherman’s need for information on this world do not come before his duty to his people. So we will have to wait.
I am rather conflicted. On the one hand, for the first time in my life, nothing is tying me down, and no one wants anything from me. Nothing guides my steps but my own will, for the gods are as far from us as they can be.
I inwardly wince, as that wound is re-opened slightly, and push my thoughts in a new direction.
What would be the point of wandering, anyway? Sightseeing? Bah. At least here there is an obvious common goal to strive for. Survival. With humanity diminished to just these few hundred lives… I can think of worse lives than one protecting the future of humanity.
This moment feels charged, as if I have only seconds to make this choice for the rest of my life… Leo’s life too, come to think of it. He always did follow my lead…
Turning to him, I can see that he looks to me for direction even now, with our powers striped from us and our lives shattered. I’m as lost as he is… but perhaps we can find purpose here.
After all, we have nothing left to lose but our lives.
My decision made, at least for now, my gaze returns to meet that of the Captain. “Point us to where we can help, Captain.”