FateGuard

The outburst startled Tahan, whose eyes widened in surprise. He reflexively leaned his body back when the blade was raised at him, causing him to lose balance and tip backwards from the rafter that he was sitting on. As he fell, he hooked his knee around the rafter, swinging downwards like a pendulum before releasing his knees at the apex of his swing upwards, allowing gravity to pull him down into an upright position and on his feet. This motion was executed with the grace of one well used to such gymnastics.

"We could take him." At this point it seemed that he ceased to be himself, instead becoming the voice of the laughing skull that was nailed to the Maltese cross on his pendant. His eyes were somewhat glassed over, the lids lowered to half mast to partially obstruct the pupils and iris. In this state, he gave no indication that he had heard or acknowledge Derek's accusation just moments prior.

Already, he was moving towards the werewolf. Whatever malice he might have been projecting before was replaced with innocent naivete. His confident motion towards the wounded wolf was underscored with a complete lack of fear for the predatory nature of the beast that lay before him; perhaps it was the same lack of fear that allowed Romulus and Remus to be suckled by the she-wolf. Without hesitation, he ran his hand through the thick fur on the head of the werewolf, matted with dust and grit from the previous struggles. His hand looked very small, easily lost in comparison to the size of the head. At this point, he seemed to shed the prejudice borne of the necklace that he wore. He seemed to just be another person, who for some reason felt a connection with what laid before him. The pupils in his eyes were sharply focused, and a small, awkward smile flickered at the very edge of his lips.
 
As though a man possessed, Leonardo turned into a blur of white until his robes settled. . . leaving him standing between Derek and Tahan. Loyalty or not, the look reflecting in his blue colored things that let him see spoke volumes about what would happen if Derek threatened Tahan again. For all the fellow FateGuard knew the boy was smiling that no one had been hurt during the struggle. Several of them could have died if the fight had gone any worse. Saint was thankful the battle turned out as well as it had, which caused an outburst at Derek before the man had silenced himself. Of course Derek composed himself after what came next.

"ENOUGH, Derek! There is a werewolf on the ground unrestrained and you care about a boy's smile? Gather your wits. We need to restrain the beast in case he recovers swiftly."

Leonardo looked over to Erilyn next.

"Use your chains to bind him. The silver should hold. We cannot afford to have him running loose."

Right after his words Tahan landed on the floor in a rather impressive display of acrobatics. Once the boy started to touch the monster who had their comrade trapped somewhere inside, Leonardo grabbed him by the shoulder before pulling him back. At any moment 'Ferrick' could get up to strike them down. Those without armor were even more vulnerable than the others. Saint had not forgotten Erilyn's advice from just minutes ago and back up with Tahan while holding the Combat Crucifix in his other hand. After the youth spoke in the strange tone similar to the necklace the bandaged knight looked over at him with curiosity more than anything in his eyes. To bring a werewolf victim in to the church?

Christ may forgive. . . but the Chapter House of Alchemical Runes. . . would they really aid Ferrick? Father Gregory might just skin him or take his fangs and claws. . . to use them for the armor research in some way.

"The only reason to keep him alive beyond tonight is if there is enough faith among us in the chapter house itself to leave him alive. If capturing the true monster that has tainted Ferrick can be guaranteed then taking him there makes sense. But if the beast spirit cannot be exorcised from him. . . then all you will be doing is letting the Church get the blood on their hands instead of your own. Until he is purified or killed Ferrick is a danger to all Gothenheim in more ways than one, let alone just to the FateGuard's reputation."

Saint spoke to all the FateGuard, not just Corben or Tahan. All within reach of his voice that rang with an uncompromising logic heard his words of warning. Of all the FateGuard present Leonardo was the most knowledgeable on the workings of the church both public and private save for Tahan. Due to his connections he knew how many members of the religious hierarchy functioned from simple monk priests to Bishop Wallstein. No one else seemed to understand the true ramifications of handing a werewolf over to the church and its Chapter House chop shop. Only Saint even understood the true situation of Tahan. No other soul could know the secrets Father Gregory had told him without a metaphorical price attached. In the end he looked over to the one he had been assigned to protect.

"If we take him to the Chapter House, we must assign at least one of the FateGuard to watch over him. Who do you think Father Gregory would allow inside? A monster cannot be left among men of God and expect to survive."
 
[DASH=gray]Things seemed to be happening very fast. Aloysius stood at the door, waiting for the beast to charge. Erilyn suddenly stepped between him and the beast. Aloysius, though understanding the motive for her move, was surprised at this action.

"Erilyn!" He simply said, not sure if he approved of the action or wished she hadn't done it.

All the other FateGuards now attacked Ferrick, now burying their kindness deep within to restrain the beast. After some battling, the werewolf collapsed on the floor. It was worn from the battle and now only small heavy breaths could be heard from it. The silence after the brawl seemed to be more deafening than the noise. Aloysius ignored Derrick's outburst at Tahan, thinking deeply. What Leonardo spoke out was true. If there was no way to cure Ferrick, he was a very serious and potential danger. Exorcism of a beast spirit was very difficult and there was a very real chance that it wouldn't work. Aloysius did not want to think about what would happen after that. Those thoughts would hamper him down and distract him. He had to focus on the task at hand.

"Leonardo," Aloysius began in a soft, thoughtful voice. "If Father Gregory approves, I would watch over Ferrick. Then you and the others can discuss what do; I'm afraid I have little knowledge and experience in these kinds of things."[/DASH]
 
"You mean to do this?" Corben's voice was harsh and rasping. The marshall rose from where he had fallen, clutching a neck now bruised from the werewolf's grasp. "To reveal this taint to the people we are sworn to protect?"

He steadied himself, watching the subdued beast as he reclaimed his blade. "Is it not enough that Eric has dwelled beyond the walls... that Alyss is bastard of the Farborn Field... that the Brothers Saint are scarred by Evil... that the Twins are feared and the boy is puppet to madness?" With each question he indicated his comrades with the sword tip. "Now this... another watchman accursed. Even now the rumours circle like vultures and you would have us reveal this too? Become freaks and monsters in the eyes of the people?"

He almost stepped towards Ferrick, but restrained himself, and with torchlit eyes swept the face of each FateGuard. "All that we have stood for will fall. If we are feared... if we are distrusted... then the alliance of Church, Guild and Crown will crack."

The blade swung, slowly, to fix its point upon the nape of Ferrick's neck. There was coldness in Corben's eyes - coldness instilled by the necessities of command. "I do not say these things lightly. But he is murderer... he is corrupt... and we must settle this amongst ourselves. I will not be indebted to Father Gregory."

 
Derek shook his head slightly after being told off by Leonardo. Of course he wouldn't see the smile the way Derek did. He was the boy's wet nurse, so of course he was going to act like the child was right and anyone else who felt badly about him would be wrong. It was in that moment he realized he was doing something similar to Ferrick. Trying his hardest to save someone who my very well couldn't be saved just because they were an close ally. Derek remained silent, not liking either of the options presented to him. Killing Ferrick would start with guilt but he'd get over it in the end, but Father Gregory? Derek looked around the room for any readable reaction from his allies before speaking.

"I can't, at least not in good faith, let Father Gregory get his hands on Ferrick. Last night, those dragons? He was rather frantic when trying to get at their corpses. Waving his little badge around as if anyone gave a rat's ass. When people finally let him through he looked like he was trying to pull parts off of the bodies, all while fawning over--" Derek came to an abrupt stop as a few gears started turning in his head. However the results of that train of thought would have to wait for another time, "...My point is he has this twisted fascination with the creatures of the wall. For what purpose I do not know, but handing Ferrick over to him would probably be worse than killing him. I don't trust him. As for what to do now..." Derek shook his head as he spoke.

After he said his piece Derek walked to the front of the house and looked out a window at the dark streets. The options were clear: This was just another bleak reality set before them by being FateGuard. The only difference this time was that it was one of their own. A leader wouldn't just allow his men to just die. A leader would have a solid answer...but Derek wasn't a leader yet, and where he had no solution Corben did, however distasteful it may be. After a pause he spoke one last time, "I cannot simply condemn Ferrick to die, but I do not know a way to save him myself...I don't know what to do."

Perhaps that fact was what Derek hated most of all.
 
Tahan listened quietly to the various exchanges. At times his head would perk up or droop depending on the flow of conversation, the way the various opinions of Fate Guard members shifted to align with or against his proposition.

"I don't know," he answered in response to Leonardo's question. Gears were grinding furiously in his head. For the first time in what seemed like forever, he was called upon to think for himself.

...

...




...





"W .. wh .. whe-whether or not we are monsters are defined by our a-actions."

He did not stutter from a sense of shame; the words flowed out clearly and were spoken with conviction. The flow of his speech was disjointed by the thought process behind them. His hands were squeezed until the knuckles were white, and most of what he spoke was directed at the floor. But as he finished, he raised his eyes to glance at the people Corben also mentioned. The corners of his mouth were turned down in a determined frown.
 

Alyss woke from her slumber, only to find herself within a cloud of blue pollen.

Worried for her mind-state, she moved from the bed and changed into fresh clothes and moved from the room- looking at herself in a worn and dusty mirror, trying to figure out if the pollen was affecting her.

As she looked into the mirror, all she saw was a monster, barely restrained by blessing and talisman- how could she lie to herself? The truth was that she was a tarnished being- and it wasn't smart to play pretend when the truth had been within her grasp the whole time.

Ulric slowly moved towards her, a shadowed look upon his face when she came to terms with her situation. "Tell me the truth." Her voice was cold as she poised the question, and the old healer gave a pained look as he came closer.

"No harm was meant... no one expected you to survive... I... I had hoped that you would have simply died that night... imagine my surprise when you lived and found your way back...." He sighed while Alyss turned to face him,confusion crossing her features. "Perhaps you have been blessed in the form of a curse that you ran upon in your survival... a mere bastard infant shouldn't have been able to survive... Alyss... Forgive me..." The man seemed to ask forgiveness from a higher being, instead of the evidence of the crime which was to come to light.

"I was... I was reckless... I shouldn't have laid with that woman that night- perhaps it would have saved us all... Alyss, a high-born woman became with child- with no husband yet- it would have looked bad for her... she hid her pregnancy- she had tried to dissuade a child from forming in her womb, but you were tenacious... that night, I was called to dispose of the child... I couldn't bring myself to kill you, so I laid you in a patch of Snow Alyss before a snow was to come, hoping the cold would take you.... I thought you had died. but a year later, you stumbled through our walls, for some ungodly reason, you came back... Of course the people laid you in my hands... I knew it had to be you... perhaps its the malice of our mistakes that formed you the way you are, or perhaps the woods took pity upon your soul and tried to help you...maybe a beast or demon found you- all I know is that a normal child would have died from that cold..." Ulric admitted, Alyss staring at him, her mouth agape in hurt and surprise.

"I had nothing left I could do from that point... I only hoped that if I raised you- whatever was inside of you would remain dormant if I took measures against it... I have hidden my sins well enough, in the form of one woman who everyone fears... you're the sole piece of evidence of my crimes, and I worried constantly about someone eventually finding traces of me in your face or behavior." He finished, leaning against a wall.

Alyss stood there, trying to digest the information that was now given freely....
 
The pain and the burning touch of the blessed silver had produced an unexpected effect, and that was to weaken the wolf's influence, beat it back just slightly, but it was enough. A dark sense of sureness came over Ferrick, a thought he didn't want to act upon by knew was the only way... only way to keep others safe.

The wolf gave a small nod to no one in the room, and slowly began to shift back, fur vanishing into his skin as his bones and muscles shrank and reverted to a human form again. When he did he let out a loud cry, underestimating how painful the wounds would be without the wolf's nature to dull them. He pressed one hand against he wound in his leg as he slowly rose to his feet, highly unsteady, quickly stumbling over to a wall for support.

His eyes were downcast, though he looked in Corben's direction he couldn't bring himself to look any of his former comrades in the eye.

"I'll... I'll go. Outside the city. Into the wilds... it's where a monster like me belongs." His voice was low, dark, weakened with the pain of the wounds and the pain in his soul. Was it penance or cowardice? Was he too afraid to die or did he want to suffer more by living, knowing that he was not human and could never be human? Did he even want to know the answer?
 
[DASH=gray]Aloysius, listening, caught sight of the wolf slowly changing its outline and shape.

"Look."
He simply said to the rest of the FateGuards, bringing their attention to the wolf.

The fur started to disappear and shrink under the skin while muscle and mass dissolved as well. Ears and teeth turned into normal human anatomy and the figure that was once a snarling beast was now a wounded human. Ferrick said he would leave. Leave the FateGuards. Aloysius suppressed a small sigh. It seemed so many of the FateGuards had sketchy backgrounds or troubling rumors surrounding him. In the past, Aloysius wouldn't have minded. Now, though, he knew there were some rumors that sometimes needed a good ear to listen.

Looking at Ferrick with a monotonous expression, Aloysius then turned to Leonardo and Corben. "What do you think?" He decided to keep silent on his opinion for now.[/DASH]

[SPOILI]Aloysius wonders what to do with Ferrick.[/SPOILI]
 
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It was past the witching hour, and dawn was creeping bloody from the fields. It lent the horizon a sheen of gore and embers, of dragon's fire and wolf's blood.

More shouts had sounded, more violent glares and heated words in that shattered house. But now they moved in silence. Bound in Erilyn's chains, Ferrick walked at the head of their party, prodded this way and that by his own spear which Arkavenn wielded. The giant moved him, whilst the others followed with steel unsheathed. Some of the FateGuard had departed, either wanting no part in this deed or complicit in distracting other watchmen or lantern-bearers along the way. The twins, Elayna, Alexander and Dyne - they had all dispersed, whilst Heinrich had stayed with the corpse on Helm Street. Those that remained did not look to one another, nor even ahead as their well-trained feet found the path to the Northwest Wall.

Having climbed the one hundred and twenty steps that scaled the perimeter, they stood in circle upon the battlements, dark against the night with only misting breaths to betray them.

And it was there that Eric tied the rope.

A noose, if Corben could have chosen. But each FateGuard was elected as warden of the city, and amongst their own had equal say in such things. They had decided, by majority, to grant this mercy... if mercy they could call it.

Having fixed the rope, Eric retreated to stand by the others. He was framed there by the horizon, the Far-Born Fields of forest and plain that stretched to the mountains. Only he had any inkling of what awaited Ferrick, out there in the night lands where all was changed in the sun's absence. The veteran stood a little paler for this knowledge, his eyes a little bleaker.

Heinrich had been tasked to take the body of Ferrick's victim and inter it in the Chapter House, with full regalia befitting a fallen FateGuard. They would tell the King that Ferrick fell to an assassin's blade - some terror of the Outside which had scaled the wall. And from now until the end of Gothenheim the coffin of Ferrick Litar would hold the corpse of the man he slew. In this was what little and what all there could be offered in atonement to the victim.

Ferrick set down the chains that Erilyn had loosened, then gripped the rope that plunged over the battlement's edge. Swinging out, he hung there, a man of rags and bruises, clinging to the edge and looking back to all that he had loved and protected. He had not told them how he came to be cursed. It was his secret to keep. And now his comrades had their own secret... and their own words left unspoken.

Each man and woman returned his gaze. It was the only goodbye.

Ferrick untensed his limbs and began his descent.... into darkness... into solitude... into the cold embrace of the Far-Born Field.

 
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"Did they ever see Ferrick again?" asked Helga, who had taken
to clutching a straw doll as her grandmother recounted the tale.

With a merry chuckle the old lady shook her head. "That's for
another story, dear."

Beside them, Finn was wrapped in a blanket almost too heavy
for his shoulders. He flailed around in it, trying to get
comfortable. "It's not fair! I want to hear about the Twins!
And the rich woman! And the man with the birds!"

The old woman's hands moved, firelight catching on white knuckles and black wrinkles as she
turned the pages of the book. "Not everyone gets to keep their part in stories," she replied.
"Some characters get forgotten. Others fade away. We're not all meant to be heroes."

"Is the body still there? In Ferrick's tomb?" Helga caught herself sucking on her doll and quickly stopped.

The grandmother chuckled again. "Why yes, dear, I would think it is."

"Can we go see?!" yelled Finn from under the blanket.

"Hush now," The woman folded over another page, "Don't you want to hear about the party?"

"Party?"

"Yes... the very next night. There was a great celebration... for it was said that the Queen had at last been blessed with a child."

"At last?" Helga snuggled closer to the foot of her grandmother's chair.

"Yes. The Queen had lost many children before they could be born. And some whispered that the King could not plant his seed. They said the royal couple had been cursed. So you can imagine their surprise when the happy news was declared by the royal heralds."

"What kind of party was it?"

The old woman turned another page. "One that the FateGuard would not soon forget..."

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FateGuard
Night Three: The Black Birth

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"GET SOME MORE ALE IN THIS ROOM BEFORE I SHIT MYSELF! WAH HAH HAH HAH HAH!"

King Ganthor leapt down from his place atop the dragon skull. Stumbling as he landed, he spilled half his pitcher over one of the servants, who earned himself a thump for getting in his regent's way. The skull of the slain male dragon had been mounted in his throne room, the bone polished to gleaming white and any missing teeth replaced with emeralds. It formed the centrepiece of the celebration... as did the the drunken king whose laughter and brawling echoed around the room. The tall, shaven-headed king was swaggering between the lines of noble dancers, fire-breathers and jesters who had been given no choice but to match his antics.

Everywhere was chaos and revelry, and from the throne by the far wall the Queen, delicate and beautiful, watched it all with a smile. Her belly showed only the slightest bulge for now. One side of the room had been decked with banquet tables, whilst the gallery was swamped with minstrels and gossipping courtiers. Everyone had been invited, from the heads of the powerful merchant families, to the rival sects of clerics and mages. In the eye-sockets of the dragon skull, two massive braziers blanketed the chamber in light.

"DANCE YOU BASTARDS! DANCE FOR MY SON!" The King was furnished with fresh ale and a haunch of deer meat, which he held aloft as he laughed. Truly this was where King Ganthor belonged - amongst the feast and the fury. He was not a wise king nor a patient king. He was a warrior. And at last the rumours of his shortcomings had been put to flight.

From the corner of the chamber, Marshall Corben watched it all, a half-filled goblet hanging idle in his hand. He sipped, slowly, as the banquet roared around him. Yet he took no pleasure in it. But one day had passed since Ferrick's death... and the night revels were welcome only as distractions from the questions that might have been asked. He had called for only a handful of comrades to assist him in representing the FateGuard this night. He knew they needed rest... they needed time alone to reflect on what had happened on Helm Street.

Taking another sip, Corben closed his eyes, sighing deeply, and did not see the trio of beautiful women who passed before him and into the crowd.

 
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Derek stood outside on a balcony overlooking a the city from the castle. Much like the night before he was clad in the Regalia with Alondite on his belt. Oddly enough it was both his battle gear and his most formal attire. Adamantite didn't scratch, dent, or dull easily; a testament to its durability. Derek had slept all day following Ferrick's death. Unfortunately as a FateGuard Lieutenant his own personal expectations didn't allow him to ignore the call. In fact if anything Ferrick's death would simply fuel him to do more. He sighed to himself for spouting such naive and childish ideas such as becoming stronger and never let anything like that happen again. The FateGuard were heroes of Gothenheim after all. True heroes weren't born unless innocent people died. The goblet sitting on the railing remained mostly full. He had only grabbed one because the King had insisted upon it when he saw Derek arrive. Turning his back to the city he leaned against the intricate metal railing and looked into the banquet hall. So much happiness in that room. One time. Just one time Derek would like to feel like a FateGuard triumph was more than just a fleeting victory. To be able to celebrate like the people inside did.

An air of sadness hung around Derek as he turned to face the city once again.
 

Alyss was silent.

Not that it was unusual- she was always a quiet person, but tonight she seemed swathed in an aura of anti-social behavior. Why she was here, was no more than a courtesy to The rest of FateGuard who she had deserted during that moment of truth. She hadn't asked what had happened to Ferrick, though she had her ideas. She was dressed simply- her nicest clothes that were free of bloodstains and rips.

She nibbled on a small portion of meat, and turned her gaze to Corben- then changed her thoughts to anything else... Her "high-born mother".... was she here?

No... don't think of that.

Her father... her father was still cooped up in their home, working on some patients and having his servants help him prepare various tinctures and potions... they hadn't spoken since that night... let alone see each other. They talked through the servants for now.

The thought of children and pregnancies was enough to make her uncomfortable on a regular day- though in this situation, she tried to ignore it. His appetite left her quickly, and she placed the portion of meat down somewhere, a nearby table perhaps. Her attention returned to Corben, her eyes focused on him for a few moments before gazing back at the crowd that were so absorbed in watching the King's actions and admiring the beauty of their queen.

She tried to slink into the celebrations, join in, in some small way- but people gave her such wide berth that it was rather hard to accomplish and she gave up after a few tries.
 
Before:

Sometimes duty is a downright bitch.

Previously Arkavenn had wanted as little as possible to do with the apprehension of Ferrick - It wasn't that he was hesitant towards stopping evil or anything, don't get the big giant wrong but he didn't want to add to the chaos. They had been arguing, voices had been raised, weapons had been drawn and used. The last thing they needed was a lumbering giant shouting in a voice loud enough to wake the dead while swinging an oversized blunt weapon that would knock the socks off anyone who was within his reach. Instead, the giant had resolved to stand at the door, making sure Ferrick was contained to this house while the others decided what to do with their cursed comrade.

In the end the verdict was that Ferrick was to be banished into the Far Born Field, where apparently he belonged. Arkavenn hated that notion. Ferrick wasn't a monster like the beasts that inhabited the accursed land - Ferrick was a member of the FateGuard. A hero. He had saved lives. Many innocent lives and he shouldn't have been treated like this but .. There was no other choice.

The giant grimaced as he prodded Ferrick down the path with his comrades. A measure done to mindless beasts .. It was a hard pill to swallow but he had a duty to fulfill. A man had to do what he had to do.

Arkavenn wanted to turn away when Ferrick was lowered outside the city walls but he respected his comrade enough although he didn't know Ferrick that well to accord him the courtesy of being there when he was .. Discharged? No. Not the proper word. Ferrick would be their comrade until the end of time, no matter what he was. For Arkavenn, you joined the FateGuard and you don't leave. Not even if you die.

Once Ferrick vanished into the darkness Arkavenn walked off, feeling extremely tired all of a sudden, although he hadn't done much. The hulking figure went home and he stripped his armour off, and went to sleep until noon the next day. Work could wait.

After:

Arkavenn strode through out of the doors. He had greeted the king and accepted his customary goblet of wine plus a plate of food that held enough to feed a grown man but was merely a light snack in the eyes of Arkavenn. The mace and heavy plate armour that made Arkavenn the war machine he was was noticeably missing. The ugly plate armour was definitely out of place in such a formal occasion and the castle had many fragile, expensive stuff. Carrying a giant mace the size of a teenager ensured Arkavenn that the day was going to end with at least one broken vase .. And that was being optimistic.

Walking to the spot beside Derek, Arkavenn looked out over the city too, in the same direction as Derek as he placed the plate of food on the railing that was wide enough to keep the food stable. "Thought I wouldn't see the day I would pass up the chance on getting drunk come," Arkavenn commented offhandedly.
 
Earlier that day. . .

Remaining with Corben due to his special weapon during Ferrick's exile, he presided over the banishment with all the silence of an executioner. One garbed in white as though a wingless angel of death ready to act at a moment's notice should anything go wrong. Pristine blue eyes were filled with a sadness that for once came not from self pity. Sunrise came to reflect in those eyes as he watched Ferrick descend ever lower along the rope into a self-chosen exile that might as well have been banishment into hell. None of them managed to save him from the spirit of the beast now trapped inside his mortal flesh. Each one of the FateGuard had failed him in their own way. After he could see his cursed comrade no longer, he closed his eyes and made a prayer within his own thoughts so as not to disturb the solemn silence.

With nothing but monsters and demons awaiting you, I pray that they meet their end by your hand. That even as a cursed man you continue to defend our city from the outside with all the love you felt for it while inside these walls. Though we cannot keep you here, I will keep you in my heart. May God watch over you despite the corruption you have suffered and one day, bring you back to us should you find a way to expel the curse. Amen.

Yet even after he started to leave the wall along with the others his night had not yet ended.

Leonardo made his way over to where all the shops of Gothenheim were clustered together into what made up the city's market square. Tahan did not accompany him here, instead sent off Enough time had passed that the sun no longer bloodied the horizon. Golden fingers of the dawn that shone with divinity had brushed that all away. None of the shops were open just yet. Although their owners were already rising from their beds in order to prepare for the day ahead. One such owner almost had a stroke when he found a member of the Fateguard leaning against the wooden street vendor's cart. Not even a speck of last night's ordeal dirtied him.

Perhaps he had gone home to clean up before coming here?

Beads of sweat formed along the simple merchant's brow even though the cool morning breeze should have prevented anyone from perspiration this early. Without a word he approached the bandaged knight with hesitation in every step until working up the courage to speak in a voice with the faintest tremble to it.

"Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing at all. I desired first pick of your wares before the rest of Gothenheim gets their chance."

Erilyn would find the item Saint had purchased at her home before the day had ended. Attached to it was a note detailing his thanks for not only protecting him during the dragon battle but last night as well. Not many in the Fateguard seemed to care if he lived or died. But she had treated him as though his life actually mattered. . . and that meant something to him. Perhaps she would realize at last that someone acknowledged her presence on the FateGuard along with appreciating it. Delivering this gift came in place of taking his usual place at the hospital. Today he needed rest from all that transpired and weighed so heavily upon his soul.
 
Prior:

Although Tahan had followed the death procession as they towed Ferrick towards his banishment, his thoughts were elsewhere - nowhere. He was unable to fully comprehend the consequences and deeper meanings of the words he spoke, for he was not properly socialized. Although he fully believed in what he had said, at that time, his personal interest in the affairs had quickly waned after it was clear that nothing he said would change the minds of those present.

An ant provides much entertainment, but if crushed is nothing more than a mess. He was not able to comprehend how far, or how deep, the cracks in the foundation of the fate guard had been sowed with the passing of that night's events; his mind had nearly completely detached itself from the past. Later, he reported to Father Gregory and gave him a placid rundown of what had transpired. Uncharacteristically, Gregory had said little, rubbing his chin and staring into the light of the candle for a long time afterwards, the flame dancing off the imperfections in the lenses he wore. After a little while, he took it as his cue to depart ...

.. Post

Where he stood in the corner of the party, holding a wooden goblet of wine in both hands. Every once in a while he hiccuped sleepily, a flush on his cheeks and a faint smile on his lips. The noise and bustle of the party bothered him, so he wandered around the large hall, eventually finding an opening that led to a balcony. There he stood, the cup balanced on his head, his arms draped over the railing as his half-lidded eyes gazed upon the flickering street lights below, a reflection of the starry night above. His attire was the same brown priest's robe, and if not for the necklace around his neck he would have been turned away at the entrance to the party. It dangled from his clothes, lazily twisting this way and that.
 
Time passed beyond her notice as she watched her hands move, the hours and the deeds lost to her, only the movements and the ever-shifting textures sliding beneath her fingertips keeping her attention on a tight, fine line. She applied her touch as the situations called for; the backs of her fingers brushing against the mud stained cheek of a crying child whose only wounds were ones made by fear and confusion which were quickly salved with quiet words and cooing noises. The next moment she discovered her hands firmly digging into a man's flesh as he writhed beneath her, mad with pain as she snapped his bones back together. It wasn't until his flesh was sewn and bound that he thanked her, the sweat dripping from his brow, the relief plain in his eyes before he slipped into unconsciousness.

She worked diligently; the countless hours spent toiling in the hospital akin to a single man chipping away at a mountain. The progress was steady but slow. All of the recent attacks and incidents were taking a toll on the smallfolk with the patients many and the healers few. Suturing, setting, bandaging and salving were how she spent her days and nights, getting just enough sleep to be functional before setting out again.

After what seemed an endless flow of new victims seemed to finally slow and Melody finally found she was able to relax. At least for a time. No sooner than she had planned a solid day of rest, there was a sharp knock on the door and a tray with a letter slipped beneath the door. An invitation.

She scooped it up and carried it to a candle, holding it over the flame until the wax seal became pliable. Peeling it open her pale eyes quickly swept over the words scrawled inside. After a moment, she let the letter slip from her fingers onto the table. She gazed down at it with slight disinterest before her mouth pressed into thin line. From what it said and how it was worded…there really wouldn’t be a way to refuse attending.
 
Derek glanced up as he heard someone approach the balcony, "Thought I wouldn't see the day I would pass up the chance on getting drunk come," came Arkavenn's voice. Looking at his own goblet he gave a single, curt laugh.

"Neither did I. Though I can understand why you wouldn't be in much of a drinking mood," Derek walked to the doorway and waited for a servant to pass, "Excuse me? Could I get a couple goblets of...I don't know...do you have any apple cider? Yes, I can wait," walking back to the railing Derek removed his helmet and set it down on the ground next to him, "When do you think it will end, Arkavenn? The day the FateGuard will no longer be needed? I'm not about to believe it will come in our life time but the events of last night have me thinking. When was the last time we ever secured a firm victory? Where it felt like we accomplished something besides just driving the darkness beyond the wall back to whence it came? I haven't had a good night sleep in ages. How could I? We're needed out there every night and day? Do the people respect us for what we do or do they take us for granted? When the last time I went to the pub with my friends and drank myself stupid? Tried to lay the foundations of a stable relationship? Sometimes...I wonder if this will ever mean anything in the future. Will future generations be able to look back on our struggles and smile or will the hell beyond the wall consume Gothenheim after we pass?"

Derek paused for a moment and chuckled awkwardly as the servant arrived with two goblets of apple cider, "Sorry. Its just...Last night has me thinking too hard. Here. If we're not drinking booze we might as well be drinking something else," Derek passed the second goblet to Arkavenn. He looked out to the balcony on his right to see Tahan. For the first time of the evening Derek drank from a goblet instead of sipping. After a few moments of watching he spoke again, "Something about him is off, don't you think? I don't trust him, but I can't quite place my finger on it...I have a suspicion or two, but it will take some leg work to figure out. What do you think about the little bastard, Ark?"
 
Arkavenn turned and leaned his back against the railing as Derek went to get a servant to bring them some apple cider. He tipped the goblet backwards, and poured all of the wine out of it. It made a big red splash on the rocky ground of the floor below them, and he picked up a piece of meat and munched on it as he waited for Derek.

The giant ran a hand through his hair, scratching his shaved scalp slowly while pondering the words that Derek had said. That was true - When was the last time they had actually won? When was the last time they actually struck a huge blow against the forces of Darkness ready to flood in through the Gates once they fell? They've been fighting a defensive war for too long .. And all of them were slowly getting tired. People didn't exactly see them as heroes; there were still those in the city that shunned them, feared them, ostracised. They all had a rumour that plagued them, rumours that may or may not be true but still flowing from the lips of the citizens of Gothenheim.

Arkavenn accepted the goblet from Derek and he sipped from it first, allowing the man to finish before he took his turn. He made a face at the sour taste - It wasn't his favourite drink, but it would do for today. "From the top, Derek," Arkavenn gave Derek an amused smile, obviously referring to the lengthy speech that the man had given before continuing, "I'm not exactly sure what we're fighting for any more, too. It just seems an uphill task - Impossible, even. We've constantly been defending and defending and defending and at times I'm not even sure if the true enemy is just out there. I mean, what about Gothenheim? The big factions can't work together; the Mages are always holed up in their towers and studying their arcane mysteries, the Church is definitely up to something. When are they not? But then we still fight on, no? I'm not sure about you, but I don't fight to get thanked and carried around and cheered on by the city. Sure, it does feel good but there isn't much of a point isn't it? It cheapens the entire thing. I fight because it's something I've known most of my life .. I fight because I know that even after I pass there'll be people, a new generation of FateGuard to take the fight and one day we'll unleash the light on the darkness outside."

As for Tahan .. Hmm. Raising the goblet to his lips again, Arkavenn took a large gulp of the sour beverage before providing Derek with his opinion of Tahan.

"Don't like him. I don't know him too well but .. There's something about him that just bugs me, like what you said. Don't like his attitude either. Corben's the boss here and we're all under him. Tahan .. He isn't a soldier, and whoever isn't a soldier just doesn't belong in the FateGuard, in my opinion. We're all soldiers one way or another, that's the way we stay cohesive."