Silvester sat underneath a tree looking at the river he had just crossed. The stream had swelled to an unrecognizable torrent in the endless rains. As he sat there he wondered if others would be able to make the journey back to Runeheim if the flooding persisted. He was lucky to find a large tree that was practically bridging the flow, making the crossing quick and easy. He figured Felix would try to and that he would make Gil as well. Damian would probably try as well at Felix’s urging but he would definitely be complaining the whole time. If they had their wagons though, totally out of the question.
The knights… probably not. Her ladyship would have a hard time as well. He couldn’t imagine Madam Leonora even attempting the scramble he had. He assumed that because her ladyship didn’t make the trip the rest of the Valariens wouldn’t be making the trip from Raven’s Castle.
Shrugging to himself he shouldered his pack and turned his back on the river. It was time to find a dryer place to rest and after that he would see who, if anyone, made it to back to the Keep this time.
Become a mage
Failure that’s the only word he could think of as he watched Java leave. He did not become a mage, he bled at dominion, he couldn’t save the Doctor from the Inquisition , he couldn’t stop her from leaving. Truly a failure. So he did the only thing he could think of, He fought. And Felix and Damien watched. With Felix’s sword in his left hand and his own in his right he faced down the Knight of Spades. He discarded his bow that would bring him comfort he knew and for this fight he knew he didn’t want it. He fully embraced his house and fought with swords.
A sword of pure black flashed out of the night and Silvester twisted his body to the side, the knight of spades blade missed by inches. Silvester jumped back and raised his swords, the knight raised his sword and nodded, a whispered “good” was barely audible. This was all he had said in their minutes-long fight. So far, each hit earned a “good” , each dodge “good” and each block ”good”. Silvester started to recite the incantation as he fought every “good” received the next word until he finished, once he completed Silvester restarted and on it went
“Good”
“Relix”
“Good”
“Narez”
The sword in his right hand hit the ground and the black blade missed him again by inches, He had to be better. Do better. Marzana’s words came back to him “I’ll come for you if you become a mage.” He circled momentarily distracted from his incantation. He had to get his sword back.
Don’t stop, don’t lose tempo, that’s how you lose. Silvester pushed hard with Felix’s single sword to create the space he needed to retrieve his fallen sword or to throw off those words he wasn’t sure, It worked
“Gooood” almost a purr as Sir Jacqueline swung his sword of night at the place where Silvester’s hand had been moments earlier.
“Relit”
And they continued Silvester’s gambit to reclaim his sword had put the town in his view and the fire light now cast shadows from the Jester over his sword. He could see the Valarien banner, the tavern, the people all seemed so happy, another victory for the town. But at what cost? Was this town worth it?
Once again Marzana’s promise and threat came back to him “I’ll come back for you.”
He attacked. Jokeri defended. The incantation continued. And Felix and Damien persisted in their silent vigil. He felt Felix and Damien’s stares as he fought; he wondered if they could see his tears in the fire light. Silvester was reminded of when he had first met the two Porters, a stark contrast to where he was now, a town left to smolder as Silvester looked for his parents, a town saved. Two brothers loudly talking as they walked through the ruin, two brothers silent, watching. He ran last time, he fought this time. Once again brought back to the present by a clash of blades, Silvester tried to create some space, stumbled and crashed to the ground when he raised his head. He found a black sword that reflected the moon pointed at his throat.
He grimaced “Another failure”
“It was a good fight”
“Mamuri”
Trap’s Design
“I was hunting for the stupid bear cub for Sir Jacqueline. So he can raise it or whatever.” I had been tracking a deer so the trip wasn’t a waste, ya’know?”
Damian nodded slightly as the boys rolled down the road in the wagon, so Silvester continued complaining about the continued pressure from one of the house’s knights.
“And honestly what is even gonna do with it? Is he gonna ride it into battle?!?” “Anyway quite by luck I thought I had found one or at least that’s what I hoped.” I found a few tracks near a stream that should have been small but was bigger than what I expected.” The tracks were faded so I wasn’t completely certain but they had the right look and indentation. So I laid a few non-lethal traps and went looking for a deer or rabbit to bring back.”
“Oh, brace yourself Gil, nasty looking rut here.” Felix called out!
Silvester braced and saw the strangest thing the “sleeping” Damian also braced for the incoming bump. He immediately reached for a sack and threw it at his chest. A satisfying grunt of pain came from Damian. As Silvester shouted “I knew you were fucking listening. Next time I’m using your ass to bait the trap.”
Joy of a Job Completed
Damian was late and that was weird. He had agreed to meet at dawn in Mecorton a day and a half ago. Silvester checked his satchel again he had the hide, he checked his quiver next all his arrows were there, he resigned himself to another day of waiting and headed towards the tavern to look for something to eat.
In the tavern he practiced while his food was being prepared. He kept his hands under the table, wary of wandering eyes. Even with one old man in the corner and a bartender he didn’t want to cause alarm. He whispered the phrase he knew in portions. And all the while he thought, thought of how much longer it had taken to hunt this time than the last. Thought of the battle the inquisition had forced on Runeheim. Thought of his parents and how they had died.
In his rumination Silvester missed the door creak open, missed a figure in black pause in the threshold and looked around, eyes finally landing on him. Missed the figure across the room to stand directly in front of him. It wasn’t until the scrape of the chair that accompanied an accusing voice asking “are you practicing?” Silvester looked up, shaking himself from his thoughts, and his hands faltered for the first time since he started. “Yeah, yeah I am. And you’re late.”
Damian was here and he could finally leave. Damian surveyed the tavern, “Where are Pablo and Onson?” “They had something else to port and couldn’t wait until you showed up. They left this morning.”
They talked some as Silvester ate. When he finished they left some copper on the table and headed out it was time to rejoin the Porters.
Hunting Trip
Silvester fell to his knees in front of the deer. He was breathing hard, blood was thundering in his ears. He skinned it. He needed to buy time, to think. The acrid smell still hadn’t faded, and whenever he glanced at Arvid, the head of the deer caught his eye and stared back accusingly. He found it better to keep his head down and finish the work he had set before himself.
Finally, when he finished, he looked at the impassive mage. “Are you done wasting time?” Silvester nodded, a forced calm spreading across his face. He slowly got up from the grass where he had been working. Bent down and grab the flank he could carry. The rest of this kill he left for the wolf’s and other wildlife of the Forest.
As he turned his back and prepared to head back into town he could have sworn he heard his name behind him. When he looked back it was only the deer carcass. With a shudder he shouldered his pack, sheathed his knife, and began to walk the same path back to Runeheim.
At the edge of town, Arvid stopped them both and they surveyed Runeheim. They could see the inhabitants of Runeheim going about their lives. The tavern loudly complaining as people entered or exited, the purple livery just barley in sight, a meeting on a porch of a log cabin a little closer to the forest then the rest. “This is where I leave you. I will be back for the next forum. To begin your initiation.”
Silvester just nodded, too numb to say anything. With that, Arvid turned on his heel and headed back into the forest.
After watching the town go about it’s routine preparations –and other tasks he hadn’t taken the time to notice before– Silvester finished the walk from wilderness to civilization with one thought on his mind, “He needed to talk to Java.”
As he was passing the cabin he heard a familiar voice.
“Heeey Silvester,” Felix called out, jogging out to meet him, “I hadn’t seen you in a while. Just wanted to see how are doing?”
With a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes Silvester looked at Felix, “Yeah, things are good, thanks for asking.”
Flip a Coin
Silvester was Tired
He had been in and out of combat all day and had barely slept either of the last two nights, fighting off waves of gargoyles, bandits, crows, spawn, and whatever else this land had decided was fit to throw at her ladyship. And now here he was again walking amicably up a hill with Java and Father Erasmus to hopefully save Mari-Lywd and protect Runeheim from these Vulgaris .
“So what do we have to deal with these mages?” He asked the group.
“Just my sword today, but if you fall here I can get you back to your house,” the Father promised.
Silvester nodded in thanks and glanced at Java, who was quieter than Silvester had come to know from her. She looked straight ahead and marched past him.
“Just my magic.”
Instantly, he was back. In the woods, in front of Java as bandits surrounded them. Her magic keeping them at bay, doing her most to protect them.
Then, in the dark, a scant few torches lighting up the shadows of the monastery courtyard. Just enough to know they were surrounded. The knot at their backs, the pain and frustration of a losing battle.
“Hey friend, we are friends. Come on, you don’t want to do this…”
A familiar voice. Tearing his eyes away from the Shadows, from the spawn, to see Java slam Lucian into the ground. He drew his bow and fired on instinct. What was happening!? Java looked at him with a slight head tilt, almost confused. Then her hands started to move.
“We’re here,” whispered the Father.
Silvester glanced around trying to collect himself. A snow packed clearing, two mages and the skeletal spirit they had come to rescue impaled on a spike. Yeah, they were in fact here. He was _here_ . The three of them looked at each other, nodded, and stepped into the clearing. As Silvester drew back his bow he wondered… which Java would he get this time?
Silvester’s complaints
Man, I’ve had it with bears. Don’t get me wrong, they’re cool to look at and all, but why do they gotta break everything? doors, spears, even bows—nothing’s safe from those big furry battering rams. It’s like they wake up every day thinking, “What can I tear apart today?” I know they’re just doing their bear thing, but it’s hard not to get pissed when all they leave behind is a mess for someone else to clean up.
And don’t even get me started on people in charge. How do some of these idiots even get the job? Like, you’d think running something—anything—would require basic common sense, but nope. They’re out here making the dumbest decisions, acting like they’ve never lived a real day in their lives. It’s frustrating watching people screw up stuff that shouldn’t be that hard to figure out.
At least the forest is still out there. When it gets too much, I can just head out, breathe in the fresh air, and walk around for a bit. No trash, no clueless nobles—just trees and quiet. It’s the one place where everything feels normal, and honestly, that’s all I need sometimes.
A Final Letter Home
[A letter transcribed by Gisla, sent from Runeheim with a courier going south.]
Mom, dad, I know what we are now and I know what a sacrifice is.
I know what we’re trying to do here.
I don’t think we’ll be writing any more.
I hope you’re proud. I love you.
[A lock of Vogel’s hair and a shitty doodle by Gisla of the five Greywolves are tucked into the envelope.]
A Second Letter Home
[A letter transcribed by Gisla, sent from Runeheim with a courier going south.]
Hi mom, hi dad. Great news. Virgil and Olof survived as well. They wandered in, two months after us, and I guess Olof carried Virgil out of the mountains. No surprise there. We hope the rest of the party is still out there, and we’ll see them soon.
I saved the hunt. Java took us down a winding path and we got surrounded by Skoder’s offspring. We had to fight our way out, and barely did. Vestri and I looked around after we got out, and came to the same conclusion, and I had to run. And it worked. I drew seven of its offspring away, and kept them busy long enough for the rest of the party to kill Skoder. But that should have cost my life. I was lucky enough to be saved by the priest that was with us. I shouldn’t be alive.
They’re saying I’m gonna be a branded man.
I don’t want that.
But Runeheim needs it.
Is my life decided for me already?
Thanks for your advice, dad.
PS I still see the eyes of the offspring. Green eyes in the branded.
[A tuft of Scogerblodi’s fur is tucked into the envelope. It has a very strong smell – like a wild beast, but not any one in particular.]
A Letter Home
[A letter transcribed by Gisla, sent from Runeheim with a courier going south.]
Hi mom! Hi dad! I just wanted to write to you to let you know that I’m still alive. We got through a blizzard! We got lost in the mountains and I thought I’d lost everyone. By chance, Vestri and Gisla and I reunited and we made it out of the blizzard and the mountains to this town called Runeheim.
This is a very important town. There’s a knight here, a lady, a mage, and at least one branded man? And there are so many different people. The knight thinks we fight well, and that makes me proud. I don’t think the lady knows who we are, but it’s pretty cool to see her. Also, you lied, the mage is super friendly! There’s also this branded man, whose skin is so hard they say it’s made of stone. I don’t believe him, but he got stabbed three times and it didn’t look like it hurt.
(The knight is Sir Knut Witchbane, the lady is Lady Vindicta Dragomir, the mage is Java, and the branded man is Ragnar Stoneskin –Gisla)
We met a greater spirit, called “Skoder” (Scogerblodi –Gisla). He commanded us to hunt him next season. Do you have any advice? Have you heard of this before? Here’s some animals and some plants from around the forest if that helps.
I think we’re gonna stay here for a while and help the town. They seem like they need it.
With love,
Vogel
PS What’s a sacrifice?
[the line was written and then scratched out]
[A shed lizard skin and some leaves are tucked inside the envelope.]
