Curse

Divine Freak · Aug 31, 2007, 07:13 PM // 19:13

Just found this series the other day. Gotta say I really enjoy it. I'll be lurking around the forums waiting for the next installment

Raxus · Sep 02, 2007, 07:16 PM // 19:16

You asked, I am here. Good stuff Minus(Melody). Keep it up! Would really like to see your stuff at the place I told ya about in the PM too. Totally upto you.

Vedruk · Sep 02, 2007, 11:04 PM // 23:04

I -am- glad to see Faith and company return

.

Minus Sign · Sep 10, 2007, 11:45 PM // 23:45

*14*

A scribe came to her tent before sunrise that morning, laden with sheaves of paper. Maps of the Shiverpeaks, intelligence reports about the Iron Horse Mine, the most recent suppositions of the actions in Anvil Rock, and one letter from King Ironhammer to the dwarves about the situation in the bowl.

She took it all in. What Rurik asked was more than possible. The Stone Summit was so busy blockading the Frost Gate passages that they’d done virtually nothing to the North in comparison. Who would want to go there anyway? The terrain only became harder the further you went, and talk of giant savages riddled some of the earliest reports about excursions beyond the Iron Horse Mines.

I’ll die in Deldrimor, Faith conceded, stepping out of the tent. The scribe was still waiting outside, and pointed her direction when she asked after the Prince. I’ll die in sight of freedom. But it’ll be worth it, to get my people out. To keep them safe…one last time.

“They want to help evacuate the refugees,” Faith told Rurik in the early morning where she found him. He was overseeing training of some of the new recruits to the RDF when she found him. His air as she came up the small rise was expectant, hopeful. When she spoke, he took a pausing breath. “Can you make that happen?”

“I can,” Rurik nodded, watching her. His hands shifted, revealing another folder filled with papers in his hands. “And you?”

Faith sighed relief. She hadn’t had to lie to her prince. Willamina was a good teacher.

“I’ll build you a team,” Faith said, offering her hand. Rurik took it.

“I need to promote you to a GL6 then,” he said, “and, as I said yesterday eve; the store—such as it is—is yours.”

“I won’t need a six man team, Highness,” Faith was already thinking of what she needed. “A monk and a nuke will suffice, if I can find them. Colin will be our forth.”

“But,” Rurik was looking at her questioningly, “you’d be better served with a six man team. More people might stand a chance—”

“Highness,” she cut him off, “how much of a chance?” the Prince said nothing, only watched her silently again. “If I can build a decent horde, we can get out of the mines alive but six people going in there will only mean 2 extra dead bodies in a week when we walk into the Bowl.

“Won’t they?” Rurik said nothing. “Even if I get past the Stone Summit, there’s an army of centaurs between me and Beacon’s Perch pushing its way toward you.”

Rurik nodded sadly. “The Deldrimor Bowl is nearly overrun with them. The Stone Summit give them free reign there, so long as they kill any human or dwarf that is not of their ilk. They,” he turned away from her, watching the training dispassionately. “They’ve taken the towns between here and Beacon’s Perch. As a basecamp.

“I wouldn’t ask you to try taking on the Deldrimor centaurs,” he continued. “We’ll keep them at bay while the refugees push out. It’s the ones massing in Anvil Rock that worry me. They stand the best chance of keeping us pinned up here, and flanking us if we move without trying to stop them.”

“But my team will still have to make it through the Bowl to get out,” Faith said quietly. “We’ll have to go through them, to get to you.”

“It’s a difficult task I’ve set you,” he nodded.

“Not so hard, when you boil it all down. The Iron Horse Mine, I can beat through. There will be fighting, but we’ll have a good chance. Then again in Anvil Rock. If the reports your people have showed me are accurate, we stand a good chance of catching them off guard; doing some damage.

“Deldrimor isn’t a fortified outpost or a staging area, however. It’s the main headquarters for an entire vanguard of fighters. Warriors, monks, necromancers, mesmers. They’ll all be there, and they won’t just ignore us like a few Minotaur might. They’ll know how we got there, know what—who—we went through to get there. And they’ll be out for blood the moment they see us.”

“That’s why I picked you, Faith,” Rurik said with some confidence. “I’ve spoken to Mhenlo about your abilities and Colin at length as well. You’ve only grown in the time between the Searing and now. If anyone can get my people back to me in one piece, its you.”

Faith shook her head. “Getting through that,” Faith stared at him with the realization. “You’ve never sent someone out to die before.” Rurik smirked, ready to tell her otherwise. Faith shook her head. “You’ve sent men and women to their deaths, but never given them a mission you knew they wouldn’t return from. Have you?”

The smirk died on Rurik’s face. He stared into her eye—it felt to Faith he was searching for her soul—and turned away again. “Am I so obtuse?” the Prince asked finally.

No wonder this has been so hard on him. Gods; he’s always hoped his people would come back? “Highness,” she said aloud, “is that the ‘miracle’ you wanted from me last night? To see these people through?”

Rurik nodded.

“I can’t promise you that. Even with my team, it would have been a very high risk assignment.”

“What if I spared a group to stay here?” the prince asked. “Then you could…”

“Make our way through the Frost gate after you’ve stirred up the hornet’s nest?” Faith smiled sheepishly. “I’d just be trading Stone Summit for Centuars. Unless you plan to break the siege completely, instead of beating a way through,” Faith shook her head, “it’d just mean even more dead that needn’t be.”

“Is there,” Rurik was stumbling again. Now faith knew it for what it was. The pauses, the jerky way he spoke to her. He was hiding a tic from her, trying to avoid showing his distress in front of one he would give orders to. “Is there no chance, do you think?”

If she said no, he would find another. “Yes,” she decided to say, but tempered to refrain from making it a total lie, “but it would truly be a miracle.

“I’ll do the best I can for them, if you’ll still have me. The mission, I can assure you, has a high chance to succeed. But four stands as good a chance as six to sneak out—we will try to sneak,” she winked. “And its less people you will need if Kryta turns on you later.

“You asked me if you could trust me, Highness,” Faith finished. “Now I have to ask you:

“Will you trust me?”

The folder he had been half hiding shifted in his fingers. The Prince of Ascalon stood rigid before her, saluting fist tto heart. Some of the passersby took notice and she quickly returned the gesture.

“I insist on a GL6 leading this operation, Mistress Faith,” she nodded, accepting his order, “because I insist on a six man team that has a chance of fighting if it has to.” Faith sighed, but did not argue the point.

“Will you follow me?” he offered her the folder.

“As you command, Highness,” Faith accepted the folder, “I will obey.”

Rurik nodded, all business. “Good.” The sudden change was refreshing this time; he seemed more in control, more like a young Duke Baradin might have been. This was a man she would follow if he asked. “Those are names of people who can replace your old team. Colin is with Mistress Peacebound at the moment, under guard. The RDF has orders not to let anyone in,” he handed her a small pin with the number 6 emblazoned on a gold and red lion, “unless they are Group Leader 6 or above.

“I suggest you begin building that team for me, Faith.”

Minus Sign · Sep 10, 2007, 11:49 PM // 23:49

Sorry for the hiatus. Blame GW:EN. I'm sorta writing myself out of a corner right now also, so chapters may be slower coming than my usual frantic pace. I'll post them as soon as i have them.

Divine Freak · Sep 11, 2007, 01:02 AM // 01:02

No hurry, it's best to take your time and create them at your own pace. Besides, I believe that GW:EN classifies as a Disease in GW terms, so it kinda spreads really fast and keeps coming back

Minus Sign · Sep 21, 2007, 04:19 AM // 04:19

*15*

Her next stop would have to be Colin, Faith decided. If no one else, Melody would be meeting up with him regularly over the next few days as he checked in on Alia. She could keep a secret well from people she didn’t know, but she’d share everything with Kali and Stephan.

“Colin,” Faith, bowed into the small private tent. The ranger was on the room’s only stool, sharing a quiet chuckle with the bedbound mesmer.

“Uh,” Colin jerked off the stool to face her, “hey Faith.” He seemed nervous as she took a place on the edge of the bed, nodding to Alia. “You two haven’t been properly introduced. This is Alia Peacebound; used to group with me back in Grendich.

“Ally, I told you about Faith.”

“Yez,” the mesmer replied, smiling at Faith in a familiar way. It was hard to understand her through the accent; like listening to a person with a mouthful of mush. “I ave…eard much about you in the last ittle while.”

“Lies, I promise you,” Faith said after a moment’s mental translation. “Can we talk?” she jerked her head toward the tentflap. “In private?”

“I am going.” Alia said firmly and Colin began to protest, “ I do not want to ear eny more rangher. I am going wit you and zat iz zat.”

“Where,” Faith drawled a little herself, delaying the question she dreaded asking, “exactly, would you be going Mistress Peacebound?

“Iron ‘orse,” the mesmer replied, unashamed. “And Anvil rock and ‘eldermeer..deldimoor—vhatever bowl. I am going wit you.”

“Well,” Colin shrugged. “I think she’s goin Faith,” and there was another short—embarrassed, she realized—pause from the ranger. Faith looked from Colin to Alia, a piece falling together. So, it like that was it?

But there was more pressing business to deal with than speculating the ranger’s lovelife. “Have you told Melody?” Faith asked.

“Uh,” the ranger shrugged, “no.”

“Colin,” Faith began.

“I haven’t,” Colin repeated, “told Melody about where I’m going at the end of the week.”

“He asn’t,” and there was a small smile creeping about the edge of Alia’s lips. “All ‘e cares about when she iz here is talking aboot me.”

“But,” Colin was still shrugging his way around something else. Faith held up her hand to forestall him.

“Colin,” the necromancer said, “its important that you not tell anyone about this mission. I don’t want my team involved in this one.”

“Don’t you think that’s their choice?” Colin asked, becoming a little defensive.

“Not this one,” Faith replied even more sternly. “I promised them when we came here, no more high risk assignments. I mean to keep it. Promise me Colin. Don’t tell Melody.”

Colin shrugged. “I won’t tell Melody.”

“Oh!” the mesmer squeaked prettily, pouting up at Colin through thick eyelashes, “you sneaky man!”

“What?” Faith glared at the pair. If he had lied about already telling Melody; if he planned to—“What did you do!?”

“I…uh!” Colin waved a hand defensively. Alia sniffed.

The tentflap fairly flew open as Kali shoved her way inside. She had to hunch nearly double to come face to face with Faith, and it was obvious the elementalist was in a foul mood.

“Someone,” Kali’s tone reeked of accusation, “is going on an extended Op. At least, that’s the crazy talk around camp!”

Faith snarled, turning her ire back toward Colin who was—belabored by a playful Alia holding him back—trying to slip outside and away.

“You said you didn’t tell Mel!”

“I didn’t tell Mel!” Colin swore, one hand touching his heart, the other in the mesmer’s grip.

“You lying son of a grawl!”

“Well?” Kali growled, ignoring the interchange.

“But,” Colin held up a finger, wincing slightly, “Stephan was another matter.”

Minus Sign · Sep 27, 2007, 10:06 AM // 10:06

*16*

“Balthazar’s Blood!” Kali swore. Stephan had squeezed in behind her and stood at the tentflap with arm’s crossed, the picture of a locked door keeping its prisoner firmly in her cell. “What the hell did we do to deserve this from you!” the elementalist raged.

Faith sighed, glancing at Colin. He shrugged a silent apology. She schooling herself back to calmness. “It is an extended Op.”

Stephan growled incoherently. Melody could be seen at the tentflap now, pushing on the warrior and grumbling about disrupting patients.

“Are you going through the Bowl?”

“I’ll,” Faith admitted. “We’ll have to. Its sheer cliffs down into Kryta if we try to take another route, and the storms coming in will make traversing the summit even more dangerous.

“It’s the Old Bowl Road, fall or freeze.”

“Lemme in,” Melody piped.

“You know centaur are massing in the Bowl for something?” Kali accused. It looked like the gossip mongers had gotten something right…damn their eyes…

“A few,” Faith lied, “which is why I have to take a small group.” Faith turned to Colin, thinking. Then she said “Except for Colin, Prince Rurik gave me my choice of anyone in Yak’s Bend. I’m still mulling over the other two.”

“Mulling,” Kali spit, “over?”

“That’s right,” Faith said, nodding without shame. If the cat was out of the bag, the only thing left for it was to upset her team so much they wouldn’t want to be around her. From the looks on kali and Stephan’s faces, that wouldn’t take much of a push.

“That’s a GL6 pin Faith,” Stephan pointed out. “Why would the prince promote you if he didn’t want a six man team?”

“I’m still hoping I can convince him that we can do this with only four people,” she replied simply. “With Colin scouting and my horde, it’ll be enough.

“Then,” Kali mouthed them twice before the words made their way out, “you’re kicking one of us?” Faith glanced to Colin. “Who? It can’t be Melody. You’ll need a good monk.”

“Mel’s not going,” Faith said simply.

“I am going,” Alia said immediately. Kali did take notice then. If the mesmer were not in her sickbed, she would liable to have been slapped.

“No you’re not,” Faith snapped. “In a six man, I could use you. Just four people, I need some fast damage to get things down. I’m sorry, but Colin is more than enough disruption in a team; two is overkill.”

“What’d’ya mean Mel’s not going?” Stephan asked.

“Where am I going?” came a small, slightly muffled voice from behind him. Faith could see meldoy’s arm wiggling behind Stephan, trying to squeeze between the tent flap and his side. There wasn’t enough room if she didn’t tear the fabric. “What’s going on—lemme in Stephan!”

“I don’t think she’s grouped enough to trust her with Colin,” Faith turned to the ranger. “No offense, but she’s been a little skittish the last few days; I’m not taking chances on this one. It’ll be hard.”

“Then…who are you kicking? Me or Steph?”

Faith forced her voice to iciness. “I’m not taking either of you,” she said, cold and matter-of-factly. “I’m not taking any of you.”

“Yeah?” Kali looked on, dumbstruck. She was confused, angry. Betrayal flared in her eyes as she looked on Faith. “Well, maybe we’ll just—just…

“Stephan,” the elementalist smiled venomously. “What do you saw for a few days hiking in the mountains?”

The warrior shrugged, and Faith winced mentally. Kali was riding a ragid edge between betrayl and rage. Why was Stephan taking this so calmly? He’d been just as angry as she when they came in. She needed them both mad—both of them hating her—if she was to keep them here. “I’m not regular army anymore,” he said. “We’ve gold in our pockets again, and I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

“Alright. Grab one of those dwarves and ask him to write us up a map.”

“No dammit!” Faith railed. If subtilty wasn’t getting through to Stephan, perhaps good old fashioned insults would. “I said you’re not going and you’re not going!”

“Like hell we aren’t” Kali rebuked. “I don’t know what Rurik is asking you to do but—”

“Rurik asked me to build him a team.” Faith snarled. “He asked me to pick the people that would get through alive.

“And I didn’t pick you! Get it yet?”

Kali stared on, poleaxed. Stephan’s eyes widened in surprise and shock. Yeah; he’d got that one for sure. Faith kept pounding.

“I’ve got my pick of any Ascalonian in Yak’s Bend. I’m picking my team. And I don’t need—a drunken sod!” Stephan’s eyes squinted slightly at the slant.

“A nutcase!” Faith rounded on Melody as she finally managed to squeeze her head inot the tent, and the little monk epped.

And last, Kali. “Or a powerhungry thrill seeker! I’m sick of babysitting you three. Rurik gave me a pick of anyone I want, and by the Gods I mean to get a kickass group together if I’m going to get down alive. I’m taking Colin because I have too, this Mesmer thinks she’s coming along, but I’ve got news for her: no freeloading halfassers this time!” Faith panted, staring up at the elementalist, face to face now.

Neither moved for a space of heartbeats. Kali blinked, turning toward the door.

“Comeon Steph,” Kali said, pushing against the warrior to move him out of the way, “Let’s get outa here and leave Queen bitch to her new crown.”

“No.”

Kali and Faith both look3ed at him. The warrior shrugged uncomfortsbly, but otherwise made no move.

“Steph, you heard her. She doesn’t want us.”

He ignored her, focusing his gaze on Faith.

“This isn’t Piken and I’m not Melody,” Stephan said after a long pause. Kali turned, thunderstruck to regard her lover. “What is going on Faith? Is it that bad out there?”

Sakura Az · Sep 30, 2007, 02:18 AM // 02:18

I just wanted to say that i love your stories and i can't wait for the next chapter^^.

Minus Sign · Oct 07, 2007, 08:13 PM // 20:13

*17*

“Screw her I said!” Kali snarled, refusing to look at the necromancer.

“Kali,” Stephan spoke with the patience he showed when melody was in a mood, “you know more about Faith than I do. But sometimes, I swear, you can’t see the forest for the trees.”

Faith was shaking her head. This couldn’t be happening. He should be ready to chew iron and spit nails after what she’d implied—after what she’d said all out! Why wasn’t he?

“What are you talking tank?” Kali asked at last.

“She’s always pushed us, Kali. The worse things get, the harder she pushes. Things are bad enough for her right now, she’s pushing hard,” Stephan nodded to himself and to Faith, “hard enough to push us away.

“What does the prince want of you Faith? What did he really ask? You can tell me,” Stephan nodded to Colin, who was trying for all to become a stitch in the tent wall, “or he can. One way or another, you know I’ma find out.

“And you always said he was a touch slow,” Faith chided to Kali, a smirk forcing the corners of her mouth up. The elementalist gawked.

“Pa always said: ‘a slow mind thinks its way through while a quick one runs the wrong way.’ I may not make decisions as quick as you or Kal, but when I find my path, I know its right. But don’t try to sidetrack us. Talk to us; we’re your friends. Even when you’re doing your damnedest to be a royal,” he nodded to Kali, “what she said.”

“How’d you know?”

“He’s right?” Kali asked, still not looking at Faith.

“Its one of your habits. I’ve been around long enough to notice em. Like I said; you pulled the same stunt in Piken Square the first day we met. That kinda first impression—‘sneakin’ a friend for their own good—is a lasting one.”

“He’s right?!”

“But you still aren’t talking,” he said, “Colin,” and Stephan turned to face the ranger, Melody taking the space to wiggle inside, “lets you and me go for a walk. You can tell me what’s what straight, or I can squeeze it outa ya.”

“Uh…”

“That,” Faith said quietly, “won’t be necessary. You…know the mission.”

Stephan’s eyes narrowed, thinking through what that implied. “You’re just to circle around and go through the Iron Horse Mines.”

“Yeah.”

“But that’ll send you through the Bowl to get back out.”

A whisper “Yeah.”

Stephan thought about this for a time, but Kali asked first, grudgingly. “You’ve got access to military intelligence again.

“How many centaurs are in the Deldrimor Bowl that you know of Faith?

“We may only see a few,” Faith began.

“But how many are there?” Stephan cut her off, annoyed. Melody’s head was bobbing between her three closest friends, at a total loss to understand. Faith could feel a push on her mind—the monk—but she kept her out. She didn’t want to group right now, even knowing Melody needed reassurance. The look of anger on Stephan’s face when she declined showed they were grouped, and he knew she’d refused. So what? She had to think, and scheming while linked was a tough task.

“It’s an army,” Faith snarled when Colin answered. He shrugged “I don’t want him sittin on me.”

“How big and how organized?

“Estimates are between two and six thousand,” the ranger replied. “Numbers are spotty because we lost a lot of rangers getting them, and the dwarves tend to fight anything in the Bowl right now to the death.”

“Its three times as bad as Piken ever was,” Faith admitted, the cat truly out of the bag now, “and almost twice as bad as Grendich.”

“That’s still no excuse!” Kali railed. “What’d we do to deserve this, eh? Why cut us out?”

Another whisper “Everything.”

“What in the five Gods names is that supposed to mean?”

Faith sighed, saying nothing. She felt another nudge on her mind and glanced at melody in frustration. The monk was chewing her thumb, eyes down in her own world right now. Stephan’s blazed in righteous fury.

“You can group or you can talk,” he glanced to Colin, trying to become a hole in the wall again, “or I can sit on you, like he said.”

“You can try Whammo,” Faith said quietly, but there was no heat in her threat. “You three did…everything. You stayed with me when people thought I was…unreliable. Fought beside me—fought for me—when I needed you most.”

She turned her gaze to Kali. “You kept the hole in my heart that Karim left small. No, not small, I still ache for him. But you made it bearable. You didn’t judge me a freak for changing the way I did. You accepted me, stood by me.

“You,” She chocked on the words, “loved,” they were foreign as a bubble in sand.

“Me.”

“So after all that, you do your damnedest to make us hate you?” Kali snapped. There was still heat, but it was a quiet flame. Even in her ire, the words coming from Faith were shocking. The necromancer never talked this way.

“I promised when we came here: no more dangerous missions. And I mean to keep it.”

“And after everything we’ve been through,” Stephan replied, “you think we’d let you off on your own?”

“No,” Faith chuckled, “I thought you’d do your damnedest to get on my team. Doesn’t matter Stephan. The orders are sealed by now. Prince Rurik’ll have you in the refugee escort. You three are getting out of here alive,” and I’m not losing my family again dammit. “this discussion is over. You’re not going.”

“Like hell it is!” Kali’s anger flared to full bloom again and she grabbed Faith by the front of her blouse, “I go where I want when I want necro.”

Melody whined, chewing resolutely on her thumb. Stephan patted her head and the little monk calmed.

“Not with me you’re not,” Faith replied quietly, not looking at any of them now. “Not this time.”

“Don’t you think that’s our decision?” Stephan asked quietly.

“No,” she said, not looking at Colin. “Not this one.” Kali shoved her away—hard—and the necromancer barely caught herself before she fell.

“Well,” Stephan answered with a nod, “then I guess its true.”

Faith had barely repressed a relieved sigh when his next words made her grimace. “Everybody’s got the right to be completely wrong once in their life.” She slouched lower with every word. Her last grand scheme in taters before her as Stephan—the dumb one—ripped it to shreds. “I bet Prince Rurik would be interested to know how we came to decide to join with the refugees. And I bet even with your objections, he’d give his eyeteeth to have you commanding an experienced team.

“What would he say if I asked for an audience and…explained…the situation to him in full? Would he be surprised?

Faith stared silently.

“Yer messed up on this one, Faith,” Stephan said and, taking kali and melody in hand, left the tent.

Faith sat down on the edge of the bed, staring at the tentflap. How? How could it have all gone so horribly wrong? She didn’t mind them being angry at her. She’d accepted when she started snapping at them that they would be—had hoped they’d hate her enough to blindly leave her alone until she was well away. Kali had bitten. Melody shut down. But...Stephan just bulled through like he could read her mind. How?

How?

“Excuse me,” a faraway voice called, “GL?” Faith turned, taking Colin in with dead eyes. Traitor, she snapped at him and he recoiled from her gaze as though she’d spoken the word aloud. “I think I’ll just make myself scarse, if that’s alright. I’ll go tell Prince Rurik…

“I’ll…go tell em we got our team.”

Minus Sign · Oct 07, 2007, 08:15 PM // 20:15

Thanks for the votes folks. I am sorry that its taken so long to get this chapter out. I'll not dull you with excuses; the next chapter should be finished quicker than the last.

Thanks to those who've replied. I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Minus Sign · Oct 09, 2007, 09:36 AM // 09:36

*18*

There were whispers over the next four days. Rumor flew that something “big” was happening in Yak’s Bend. Most dismissed such talk as idle rumor, but those who cared to listen did so with bent ear. To what was said. Whispers that the prince was in a fit. Some said he had railed on one of the new necromancer GLs for half an hour. No; she’d screamed at him. He was losing it; he had broken down in her arms. He had found a new lover to replace Althea—it was a woman, all the whispers agreed—and that explained why she was so often in his tent, and they so often alone. What was truly said was not known. The prince’s tent was now heavily guarded.

There were whispers…and evidence if one cared to look. “Look there,” one whisper flew on the wind. “Why is the RDF practicing so hard of a sudden?

“Look there,” called another. “Why is the Ascalon Vanguard mobilized—every day—and where are they going so often?”

And for every question asked, the same answer always found its way to people’s tongues: “War,” they would whisper in the the dark and cold of a mountain night. “Army starts getting ready for one, you know a war is coming.”

“Prince Rurik will see us down.”

“After what the Charr did to them, can we trust our troups against dwarves?

“Are we being attacked? Is it safe to stay? Should we flee?”

“They led us up here. They must know what they’re doing.”

“Like they knew in Rin?”

Whispers. Rumor. The people of Ascalon mumbled to themselves, their soft words haunting as a second chill breeze as passersby glanced to the huddled groups near fires.

And as often follows, some became more bold.

“What is his plan?” a voice would ask as a Vanguard member passed. The voice was loud enough to be heard, but the Vanguard only started for a moment, then hurried on his way.

“We followed him up here. We’ve a right to know what he means to do!” called another voice in the crowd.

“Are we under attack? We’ve a right to know!”

“Who’s all this food for?” called another—hungry—voice on the fourth day. “I could eat for a month on that much food!”

“A group,” the guard replied, “on special assignment.”

“One group?” growled another. “That’s over a weeks worth of food. Why do six people need that much good food?”

“Shut up Dallan;” called a voice from the gathering mob. “You might learn somethin. I used to run a dolyak team up to Piken when the supply trains were still safe. I seen groups like this before.”

A granled man had pushed his way to the front, squeezing his way through the mob to get a better view. One paulsied hand pointed to four of the refugees: a warrior, a monk, a mesmer and an elementalist.

“These guys,” the aged man said, “are Special operations. They need a week’s worth o grub cause that’s the nearest time they’re likely to see another body that ain’t tryin ta killem.”

“Special,” the man Dallan scratched his chin, “Ops?” many had given up staring greedily at the provisions being crammed into packs to regard the group. The warrior was leaning on a wter barrel, his whetstone stropping a longsword. The elementalist watched him with idle curiousity, keeping herself near in a proprietary manner. The mesmer stood aloof, away from the other three, while the monk seemed content to half-hide herself behind the two tallest members of her group, humming softly at a bundle in her arms.

“Is,” someone in the mob asked, pointing out the monk, “Is that a troll?”

“Trueshot!” someone snapped, and the mob growled as one. The name had spread like wildfire after his acquittal. Dallan rallied his courage and stepped back into the mob, picking up a rock as he did so. He had only just reared back to throw when a paulsied hand with surprising strength took him by the wrist.

“I wouldn’t,” the old man hissed in his ear, “less you wanna be minion fodder,” and he pointed to the ranger’s companion with his chin. A short, ghostly pale necromancer was leading the ranger

“Whozat?”

“Riven,” the old man whispered again. “The Dead Wind.”

“I eard bout er,” an eavesdropper replied. “They say you can smell death in the air, you know er orde’s walkin.” Others had stopped their glaring at Colin to inspect the necromancer before them. She was not overly impressive. Short, snow pale skin and hair made her look stunted and sickly. Her eyes where downcast, brooding inwardly as she walked by. A vile scar was just noticeable behind a lock of hair that covered her left cheek. If not for that scar, she might have been quite comely.

“Thats a myth,” Dallan rebuked, dismissing the woman. “Ain’t no Godspoken in Ascalon. Just some pumped up story the Royals lay on to keep our back’s bent.

“I seen er son,” the old dolyak driver replied. “She’s no myth; she’s a nightmare. Last run I made, it was her—and that there big nuke-girl by the warrior—took down three groups of charr when they’d already cut down our escort. Havin er walk us the rest of the way—that horde everywhere, surroundin us like that…I tell ya. It was like bein in Grenth’s hand those last ten miles. I’d a liked to piss my pants before we got there.

“This is Special Ops; no doubt about it; she was with Barradin when they retook the Square. I’ll never forget that face. That psycho’d eat you for breakfast—so I suggest you shaddap afore she hears you.”

Dallan decided that being courageous might not be prudent just then, letting the rock fall from his hands.

The necromancer heard none of this, of course. She walked to the other four, her gaze sweeping from one to another. Everyone knew the group was forming under her. When she turned to the elementalist, her pale cheek bloomed a deep red.

“I’m,” she whispered, “sorry.

“I’m sorry I tried to hide this from you. And I’m sorry I tried to trick you when you found out. Mostly,” she choked on the words, “mostly I’m sorry that I insulted you. I just…I’d rather have you hate me than get hurt. But I don’t want either. I wanted you to know that before…you know.”

The elementalist sniffed indignantly, and the warrior bumped her in the ribs. She grunted, rubbing them and pouting as she looked at him. He gave her a I-know-that-didn’t-hurt-but-if-you-don’t-make-nice-I’ll-try-again look and she sighed, turning to the necromancer again.

“Alright,” she said, still rubbing her side—or her pride, it was hard to tell, “that'll do for now.

“But you ever try a stunt like that again and I’ll pin your mouth shut.”

Faith smiled “Deal.”

“Faith!” roared a voice from the other side of the mob, and the group turned to see a large woman shoving her way through.

“Devona,” the necromancer called, the crowd giving the two space, ‘what news?”

“Cynn,” the warrior panted, holding out a slip of paper for the necromancer to inspect. “She found the bald bassard! His team wiped but he is still up there, trying to rez them. Mhenlo sent that with a dwarf runner, but he dropped at the foot of the bend. I didn’t open it; hope its good news.”

“Highness!” Faith snapped, opening the parchment and turning it away from the mob to read. Rurik—the prince of Ascalon—came rushing to her call.

“News?” he asked, his tone concerned. Faith finished scrolling the message, handing it to him with a sigh. He scanned it twice, then handed it back with a shake of the head. “We can postpone for a few days. Perhaps the snows will quail…”

“Highness,” Faith cut him off. Some people in the mob grumbled and she bowed respectfully, “the weather is the least of my concerns right now. If Mhenlo’s team was spotted and taken, they may be questioned. They know enough about what we’re planning to give the Summit time to organize.

Her tone soured. “If we don’t go now, we’ll be facing an organized defense when we get there.”

Prince Rurik seemed to sag as she spoke. He turned to the other five regarding the exchange, then back to her.

The Prince snapped to a rigid posture and did the unthinkable. Fist to heart, he saluted her. He didn’t return a salute. He saluted her. Then he turned to do the same to the others, but the four on their feet were already standing rigid as well, fist to heart. Melody was still humming to Cuddles behind Kali and Stephan, her back turned. The shock registered to her through the group link and she turned, looking quizzically at the group around her.

The mob gasped. Devona gasped. Rumor would fly as to what the Prince was sending these people to do. A Royal Salute…it was the stuff of myths and legends in Ascalon; reserved for only those who went to serve its people in the most dire time of need. Reserved for the living only when it was assured they would die.

Faith, stunned, returned the salute by reflex.

“God speed Mistress Riven,” Rurik said to her, holding out his hand, “I pray…

“I will pray.”

“Get our people out of here, Highness,” the necromancer replied softly. “that’s all…that’s all we ask.”

“On my life,” the prince swore, “they will see Kryta.”

Faith nodded, taking a calming breath. She turned to her team. “Alright you lot,” she called out, her voice singing with command, “get your packs on and weapons out; we’re a go!”

Divine Freak · Oct 10, 2007, 12:42 AM // 00:42

Very nice work Minus. Hope the story continues to move along easily for you, I know it's always frustrating when you hit a writers block (or just don't have enough time to write). I'll be eagerly awaiting your next installment

Sakura Az · Oct 17, 2007, 09:45 AM // 09:45

yay! more awesome story! i love reading it all, keep up the awesome work!

Minus Sign · Feb 04, 2008, 11:32 PM // 23:32

**19**

“We’re a go,” Stephan chuckled as the six moved out of earshot. Then, again, mock-seriously “We’re a go!

“I never knew you liked playing to a crowd that way Faith.”

“Oh hush up,” the necromancer snapped, her teeth grating, “it just…came out that way.”

A soft dusting of new snow was beginning to cover the icy hard pack road as they walked out of Yak’s Bend. The south entrance had been re-fortified in recent days, and several groups milled around the gates, shuffling their feet in the cold. A group of four RDF regulars slipped from the disorganized mob, coming to flank Faith and her team.

“Mistress Riven,” a man with a GL 6 pin called too loudly for the low wind and their closeness. Other members of the RDF turned to the throng, taking notice. “Prince Rurik sends his regards and bays us escort you through to the Iron Horse mines.”

Colin cocked an eyebrow at the four. “I hadn’t known we were so popular,” he said to Faith quietly.

“This mission’s that important,” the RDF GL replied, still loud enough for everyone twenty paces away to hear. Now that was how you play to a crowd, Faith mused.

“Speed is of the essence,” Faith told their escort. “We’ve got intel just now that suggests the Iron Mines Summit may be aware of an attack. We need to be there.”

“You heard the necro!” the RDF GL cut her off, “Clear a path for these six; I don’t want them lifting a finger until they have to.”

“That won’t be necessary,” Faith replied as the small group began to push south. Faith’s team settled into a slow jog just behind as two warriors and a monk rushed into a Whiteout; the other GL stayed to speak with her. “Just help us get to the crossroad and we’ll take our leave.”

“Not to worry Mistress Riven,” the GL, “my team has made this push more than a few times looking for refugees in the last few days. “The Summit are organized but predictable. There may be—damn!”

Faith heard it too. The sound of steel on steel, a clang and ring that echoed eerily through the muffling snow around them. She knew it was close.

“By your leave,” Nigel had already broken into a run and Faith nearly slipped on the slushy mud as she quickened to keep up.

“Sir!” a voice called, catching Nigel’s attention. It was the monk. “Bowdwarves up ahead, just south of the turn.

“They’re retreating to the crossroads.”

“You’re own your own here. We’ll scout further south and hold a line as long as we can; make sure you don’t get flanked by anything.”

“Thank you,” Faith said quietly, but Nigel was already running away.

Minus Sign · Feb 04, 2008, 11:33 PM // 23:33

*20*

“Lets hurry,” Kali offered as Nigel disappeared, the sound of battle whispering softly to Faith. It was so close. They could do something; help them out.

“Faith!” the elementalist called, and Faith jerked. “Let’s get moving and let them do their job.”

“E should move swiftly now,” Alia agreed when Faith faltered. It wasn’t in her nature to leave a fight. She knew better, but part of her wanted to charge the rise. She was already rationalizing it to herself: a good horde to start. It would slow them down to do it, but the added damage would quicken their pace as they moved into the Iron Horse Mines.

“I know,” the necromancer said at last, pointing north with her scepter and leading the group away from the sounds of battle to their left. “We’re going.” Despite her accord, she brooded, and the others felt her frustration through the link. Faith could feel their too.

“I’ve heard that accent before,” Stephan said, breaking the uneasy silence that followed. “But I still can’t quite place it.”

“Aye am Xulani,” the mesmer replied with a smile. “My parents,” the smile died, “they were ere as trade envoys when the Charr attacked you.

“It was to be my first post. I was to have my own chest; to become a woman in the yes of all Xulan. Zat,” the mesmer shrugged her shoulder, scanning the rise. “Zat is over now. Zee Xulani are a non-aggressive people. We—zay do not take up arms against odders. When aye avenged my parents, I became an outcast. Aye can never go home now.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Faith said, her inward brooding turning to regard the mesmer. Colin had spoken briefly of Alia’s past, but the six of them had been too busy this week to leave much time for conversation. She still knew little about this newest member of her team. And Alia seemed to be shielding herself as well. The link felt fuzzy when Faith focused. All she could feel from the mesmer was her presence. None of her mood, none of her emotion slipped through the link. And it was difficult to gauge her health under such circumstances.

We all have our secrets, Faith conceded, but I need to know if she can keep up. If she’s still weak… No. Mhenlo and Melody had both given Alia a clean bill of health before passing her t Faith’s charge. It was the shielding Faith did not like. Tasha—Melody’s therapist and a mesmer herself—had sometimes shielded herself in a group. But Alia kept it up, a permanent wall between herself and her team. It somehow felt…deceptive was the only word Faith could conclude for the emotion. Not just keeping secrets, but hiding truth. There was more to this woman and her story than she gave, and the truth between what she said and what was felt like a chasm to the necromancer.

“But aye tink,” the mesmer said, pulling Faith out of her doldrums, “We have more pressing tings to worry aboot right now.”

“I saw it too,” Colin said, Idiot growl/purring in sympathy to his master, “that bush on the rise. It moved against the wind.”

“Stephan,” Faith snapped command, “check it out. Kali; are you ready?” The warrior grunted, his axe spinning in his hand as he sprinted up the rise.

“I was never a big fan of fire,” the elementalist replied, the sword in her hand twitching irritably. “Without my earth armors, I can’t get up front. But I studied what you asked.”

“There’s—ahhh!” Stephan roared, spinning like a top as he crested the snowcapped hill. Magic projectiles lanced into his armor and Faith felt his pain slash through the group like whipcord. Melody reacted, blue enchantments shining across the warrior as he staggered under a weight of blows.

“Up the rise!” Faith roared, “Take the high ground now!”

“We’ll be exposed up there,” Colin warned, obeying her command even as he consoled against it. “Everything within half a mile will be able to see us.”

“We need to see what we’re killing,” the necromancer snarled back.

And they had a good view too, Faith realized as she crested the hill. The Stone Summit had massed a platoon—several groups milling around next to each other—on the other side of the rise to catch them unawares. Any hope Faith had that the Summit would not be prepared for her at Iron Horse floated away.

Ice Golems milled around, waiting the next order. Stephan still struggled under the weight of their first attack. Arranged around in separate groups, Faith could see…everything. Axe Wielders shoulder to shoulder with hammer wielding Crushers. Necromantic Howlers side by side with mesmer Sages. The ranger Scouts were further forward than they would have usually been, using their power over nature to keep the pet golems under control.

And encircled between them all, high atop a massive hairy doylak larger than any Faith had seen…

“What is that?” Kali balked.

“Shalis Ironmantle,” Faith replied. “I should have known.”

“I can’t,” Stephan grunted, icy bonds encasing his legs up to his thighs, “move.” The warrior took another painstakingly slow step, icy cracking nosily.

“Zen he wood be Saris Headstaver,” Alia said, pointing out a mesmer in the rear. “Let us zee if he is worthy of dee name.” Alia began to step down the rise toward her intended target.

“Wait,” Faith cautioned, scanning the groups again. “And Riine Windrot,” she pointed to a necromancer in another of the groups,

“Toris Stonehammer, too,” Colin said, also scanning the throng, “and if the sketches the dwarves gave us are any good, that’s Ulhar Stonehound; he’s a crack shot from what I hear.”

“Its every combat commander they’ve got!” Kali shook her head, disbelieving. “I count over thirty of them. Faith; this is more than we bargained for and then some.”

“Turn back now,” Toris Stonehammer growled, a massive war hammer pointing toward Faith and her group. “We spare you to deliver this to your prince: take your humans and leave da peeks.”

“Stephan,” Faith turned to Alia, nodding silently. Despite the shield, Alia nodded as well. Faith only hoped they both knew what they were thinking. “Keep walkin.”

Minus Sign · Feb 05, 2008, 07:27 AM // 07:27

*21*

“They’re not all one group,” Faith whispered to her team, “that many spirits would drown each other out if they were; they have to be separated.”

Melody? the call whispered through the link.

I’m maintaining Holy Veil on Stephan Ironwill. I’m casting Protective Spirit on Stephan Ironwill.

Good girl, Faith thought. “Stephan, get in the center and hit Shalis if you can,” Toris was close enough to hear most of it. His arm rose and his team retreated slightly, moving to protect their monk.

“If you can call it that,” the warrior grunted aloud painfully, forcing his feet to move. The ice cracked and fell away, bit by bit, and Stephan began to move a hair’s breadth quicker.

“It will be your only warning humans,” Riine said quietly. His voice sounded annoyed, a feral hunger barely contained at the thought of taking these human lives. “And more than you deserve for interfering in the first place.”

“Keep your veil atop him Melody,” Alia ordered, “Slow dee golems down and aye will remove zeez hexes ven dee time comes.”

The monk nodded silently, her hands twitching with need to reach out to Stephan, to do something to help him. Moving hurt him; she could feel it. That’s all she knew or cared about now.

Colin? Faith was still working on her team. The feint would only last past the first spell—she knew, and everyone needed to be ready.

I’m targeting Shalis Ironmantle. The Stalker took a preparatory step toward the ranger’s mark. “Easy idiot; not just yet.” Faith forced herself not to smile. The Stalker’s slight twitch was all Toris and the dwarves needed to know. Faith and her team planned to kill their monk first and clean up the rest of them without anything to heal their wounds.

You just keep believing that, Faith prayed. Stephan’s legs were nearly free of the ice and his effort was more feigned strain than real impediment.

Alia.

I’m targeting Saris Headstaver, and Faith tsked. Mesmers and their dueling mentality.

“I need a horde,” Faith said aloud to make certain the mesmer understood.

Alia snorted, annoyed, but her call came through the link clearly. I’m targeting Riine Windrot. “Happy?”

“What’re you doin?” Toris growled again.

“Not yet,” Faith replied.

“Ferget it Torus,” Ulhar Stonehound called, “we no need ta send all sic back. Half’o one be bedder message any way.” And—meaning to put action to words, the rangers drew his bow and pointed at Faith. She ignored the ranger, focusing on Stephan. His legs were free, he could move again.

“Kali!” Faith called, her voice a feral snarl to match Riine’s, “Bring the Rain!”

Minus Sign · Feb 06, 2008, 02:30 AM // 02:30

*22*

Stephan surged forward as Kali’s eyes went white. “Stop him!” Torin roared, the axe wielders and crushers moving to form a protective shield around Shalis Ironmantle, who in turn began laying enchantments atop them. Unbound by Melody’s crux, the dwarf sent smite enchantments into his frontline, bestowing them with greater damage as they slammed into the lone warrior.

The air around took on a palpable hue, brimstone, as Kali’s spell neared climax. Saris and his team moved to stop the elementalist—anything that took this long and took this much power to cast would be dangerous to them—but Colin was ready. Shifting his aim, he sent a fiery arrow into the mesmer commander, the projectile exploding on the dwarf’s thigh. Crippled, Saris bellowed as his sages scattered, the elementalist forgotten momentarily as they stopped to put out the small fires that spattered their clothes.

Stephan was a wall unto himself though, guardian enchantments deflecting their strikes, reversals of fortune flaring when they got through and the guise of a protective spirit hovering over him as the golems struck again.

Stephan shoved his way into the wall, roaring as his axe spun, red meting white as the snow around him was stained by battle. The wall twisted as he madly pushed into them, encircling him to trap him in.

“NOW!” Alia snarled, her own eyes taking a sheen. The water magic hexes shattered outward, mana-fueled ice exploding around Stephan with lethal consequence. An axe wielder fell, clutching his throat in a death grip and Faith stepped forward, her own eyes red in spellcasting. Riine had done the same; it would be a race to choose which necromancer exploited the corpse first. The clouds above the dwarf platoon had taken a reddish tone, like rain clouds at sunset.

The mob of dwarves had begun to retreat, to give Stephan space lest another deadly Shatter Hex spell was unleashed from the mesmer. But they did not move far or fast enough, and kali grunted from strain, pointing her sword at the largest clump, at Torin Stonehammer. Fiery balls of molten rock began streaming from the cloud laden sky, slamming into the group mercilessly. Controlled by Kali, and aimed precisely, there was no danger to the human warrior in the heart of the Meteor Shower. Dwarf warriors fell, howling in unison as the firey rocks began to sear and crush them. Kali added insult to injury, her eyes flaring again to send yet another ball of pure fire from her hand toward Torin.

But—even as the first meteor struck—the dwarf commander had scoffed. A signet flashed from his outstretched hand, and the guise of a doylak flared in front of him. He moved slowly, purposely, through the fallen bodies around him.

“I am no easy meat for man,” the dwarf bellowed, his hammer coming down on Stephan’s blue flashing body in a mighty blow. Stephan grunted, his shield ringing shrilly through the battlefield as it deflected some of the damage.

“G-Gurgle!” Faith’s smile showed both sets of teeth and two small bone minions exploded from the first to fall. She wasted no time on Torin, turning her ire instead toward Ulhal and his band of archers. She had been right. The confusion that flashed across their underlings faces showed Faith that the teams had been separated into casts; each commanding their chosen profession with a single will. But they had been c0cky as well, assuming their numbers would guarantee victory, that their brute force would be enough to kill a heavily protted warrior.

And that their interrupts would reach the casters in time.

Faith was on the rise with her group, barley in bow range when the first volley struck. She gasped, the arrow striking deep into her abdomen, next to the old scar a charr had left as a parting gift. She felt melody’s Spirit flash around her, soothing the wound, magically drawing the arrow back out. No sooner had the first struck than another. And another. The guardian spell melody used was powerful, but imperfect. It could not deflect a direct assault from six bowdwarves. Still Faith concentrated, ignoring the pain in her chest and body, the blood soaking into her clothes, and the small group of archers withdrew slightly to deal with the threat in their faces.

“Wucha!” came a call and Faith turned her attention back to the mob of warriors. More had fallen in the intervening space of time, and Riine Windrot was not wasting time. He had somehow managed to animate two bone fiends, their throat barbs already streaking the sky toward Kali. The elementalist screamed, arrows turning from Faith to her as the archers tried to outpace Melody’s prots. The monk huffed, turning her attention to Kali and blue flares began to light from the ele’s skin. Faith’s eyes flashed red for a space of heatbeats; a green glow began to form around both minions as they struck the archers in earnest, and a new “Grugle!” answered its mistress’ call, more minions pushing outward in all directions.

The rise was a place of chaos. Torin and Stephan pounded at each other in the center of a scene from hell, bodies smoldering around them as they pushed each other back and forth. Both warriors grunted as they struck and were struck and Faith could hear—a multitude of whispers staining the howls of battle—“Don’t hurt me; why? It hurts! Stop this.” Empathy hexes from Alia and the sages. Faith glanced; several Sages stared dumbly at each other as more droplets of fiery rain began to pelt them anew. They bellowed, moving distractedly—diverted, Faith realized—by the hexes Alia had thrown atop them. Faith’s slowly forming horde scattered, uncontrolled, to strike any threat nearby. There were too many for her to be choosy. The ice golems had been twisted—she’d counted four before—into even less human shapes than she remembered. They appeared to melt into the ground like snowmen in a spring day, writhing in their spellcasting. There was no snow on the rise or just beyond, fire lanced through the area, smearing the undergrowth with a golden light. She could hear her comrades and her foes voices. And she could hear her own—a low pitched scream that issued as arrows struck her side and chest, grazing her head and barely missing an eye. Saris managed to interrupt another of Kali’s spells, but the mesmer staggered in the doing, paying a fearful price as expending his energy expended his life; Alia had found time to cast Backfire, a deadly hex to use against casters.

Melody was a machine, transferring smoothly from one threat to the next. One monk could not stop everything that was being laid on the group, but much of it never got through. She panted under the effort, throwing her spells on all five of her friends, desperate to keep the pain at bay. Thus far, the dwarves had been more busy keeping death away to bother with a single monk.

Riine began to call forth another minion, and Faith was just about to rebuke her mesmer when a screamed “Die!” rocked the valley, Alia’s mana-enhanced voice lashing into Riine Windrot like a scythe. He staggered, staring hatefully at the bone fiend that grew up in front of him. A fiend he had not created. Faith turned to another corpse, the broken body of an axe wielder that had impossibly made it to the top of the rise before…someone killed it, she couldn’t tell what struck the final blow.

And then she was reeling, pitching back and forth on her feet, trying to remember her own name with little success. Her Soul Reaping energy still hammered her—promising she was alive, that others were dying—but her mind was a blank in the impossible pain that stopped her cast.

The Sages had entered the fight at last. Too many for Alia to stop when combined with her attention on Riine, they had begun to take their vengeance out on the slowest casters of Faith’s group first. Another roar issued from down the rise, taking everyone’s attention. Toris Stonehammer toppled with a pain-filled scream, falling in a heap at Stephan’s feet.

Melody screamed to echo him, head in her hands as she reeled in shock and pain. She stopped casting, white eyes turning grey, her face a mask of horror. “Wha-what? M-my Gods!

“WHAT’S GOING ON???”

“Mel!” Faith roared, “PnH, now! Cast it on yourself now!”

Melody whimpered, staring at the war torn stretch of land, the corpses, the bodies, the violence. She was dumbstruck. Faith lurched in pain herself, feeling one of the monks protective spells torn from her in violence, the mana intended to heal and protect twisted instead into harm incarnate. Kali squealed, dropping to her knees as unshielded arrows lanced into her. Still the elementalist fought, eyes white fury as an axe wielder topped the rise, standing over her with weapon raised. Faith had time for a gasp of terror as mana exploded from Kali, a ring of fire bursting out, a fiery bird—Kali’s phoenix—lashing down toward the sages below. But without Melody healing the damage, Kali was a pincushion; a bloody sack of flesh protruding arrows grotesquely from her front and sides.

“Colin,” Faith roared aloud and through the link, “on the sages; don’t let him strip her enchants again!”

“But,” Colin blanched, “the doylak!” Even as he called Shalis Ironmantle began to cast a spell, his effort thwarted as Idiot jumped up, biting down on the monk’s leg and holding on savagely. If Kali was a pincushion, Shalis was a porcupine, he and his doylak steed reeling back and forth from lost blood and punctured organs.

“Melody,” Alia, closest to the tiny woman, cooed and bent to help the monk to her feet. The mesmer positioned herself between Melody and the fight, a physical wall between the chaos before them and the fragile mind keeping death at bay. “Your spell. Your special spell. Wee need uo to use it for uz. We are urting Melody; please…”

Melody jerked, still hearing the roar of fighting. Faith snarled, turning back into the fight. She couldn’t stop now, not and leave them three people down. Alia was a mesmer; it was best left in her hands. The necromancer could hear no more as she walked carefully down the rise and into the heart of torment. “Let me worry about their monk”

Faith concentrated on the horde, turning the bone minions toward Shalis and praying the archers and sages would ignore her—just for a few seconds. Green light flashed around one of the minions—making three death novas pounding toward the dying monk—before another arrow lanced into her shoulder.

“Help!” Shalis screamed Unhindered by the ranger, he began casting enchantments on the two remaining axe wielders. Blue light flashed as they rushed to the monk’s aid, their weapons imbued with holy damage that scythed through Faith’s undead horde with righteous power. The minions dropped quickly

“Idiots,” she whispered triumphantly.

And as the three bone minions dropped, they exploded. The death novas burst outward as powerfully as Kali’s Fireball, bone and poisonous flesh stabbing into Shalis and his would-be protectors. The doylak moaned, one leg hanging as a bloody useless ruin, and rolled over, crushing its passenger underneath.

“Kill the necro!” Saris Headstaver roared, “She’s their leader; kill the necr—oh!” Saris bent, twisting with a look of surprise to lay on his back as he dropped to the ground. Stephan wrenched at the dying body, pulling his axe out of the mesmer’s chest.

“Shaddap.”

Another sage—smoldering still—dropped atop Saris who stared unseeing at the clouds above, his mouth still open in his last call.

“Stephan!” Kali called, somehow risen to her feet again, “the archers wanna meet you!”

“Colin!” Faith roared, taking Kali’s lead, “keep Riine and his little friends busy.” And she turned back to the untouched group of howlers protecting their commander.

Though not so untouched as she had thought. One howler lay in pieces, a boulder sized rock between his torso and legs. Another had simply crumbled, blood coming out of his eyes after casting through one Backfire hex too many. And yet a third was on the ground, almost sensuously entwined with one of Faith’s bone minions as it crumbled around the dwarf’s body. Riine was not among the dead though, and seven fiends had come to stand and flank their master. After bombing Shalis, Faith had some considerable catching up to do. She didn’t bother to look for corpses. Her Soul Reaping told her where the nearest bodies were and there were far to many to be picky now. As her horde began to swell, Riine’s charged the rise to meet her. To stop her.

And it would succeed too. Colin was busy keeping the Howlers from casting; he hadn’t the time or arrows to block off a horde. Kali was cleaning up the last of the Sages and warriors; the two groups had balled together again as the warriors moved to defend what casters were left. And Stephan had his own problems to worry about. Kali’s call had been a good one, but saying it aloud had given the archers warning. As the warrior had moved to take them on, they had targeted his legs, pinning him down to prevent him from closing to melee range.

Seven headless throats presented themselves and Faith snarled, still casting summons.

“Fail!”

The fiends jerked, looking at one another in surprise. Stephan, moving with agonizing slowness as he bled his way toward the archers suddenly staggered, refreshed. He glanced at his legs, snarled wordlessly and sprinted toward the remaining archers. They renewed the attack, balked by blue light as the warrior crashed into them like a wave at high tide.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” came a voice at her left like a mouthful of mush. Faith chanced a look at Melody. The monk was still visibly shaken, her hands wringing together with her staff on the ground, and she had the daydreamy quality of a person reliving a nightmare, but Faith could feel spells pouring out of her through the group link. Kali straightened, arrows shorn away as if wiped from her body by an unseen hand.

“Nice to have you back,” Faith replied. Riine’s horde renewed their attack and Faith felt two barbs piece her skin. Four others bent harmlessly away as the seventh fiend’s attack exploded in blue light, restoring her. Melody trembled, looking at her friend with questioning eyes.

“Both of you,” Faith said, turning her horde into Riine’s. Fiend struck fiend as the two necromancers began to battle. But no sooner had they begun that Riine’s horde seemed to lose concentration. The fiends looked at each other dumbly, still under attack from Faith’s still small horde. Then they lashed out; angrily attacking everything—even each other—in mindless violence.

Faith looked to Riine and the Howlers. Another lay on the ground next to the meteor. The last was cradling Riine, an arrow jutting through the necromancer’s chest.

“Quarter!” came a call from what was left of the archers. Ulhar had his bow in one hand, warding Stephan as the warrior pursued.

Minus Sign · Feb 10, 2008, 05:03 AM // 05:03

*23*

“Quarter damn you! I surrender!”

Stephan stopped, glancing back at Faith in question. She shook her head, turning her horde to flank the lone ranger.

“I’m sorry,” the necromancer said, walking down the rise, past Toris’ exploited corpse. “I’m sorry so many lives were wasted here today,” she stepped around the doylak, sparing a look at Shalis’ hand. It was all she could see of the monk. “And I’m sorry about this.”

“No!” Urhal snapped, dropping his bow. “I cried quarter; you have to take me back to your prince. My people will offer—”

“Your people have offered nothing but mayhem since we arrived here,” Faith snapped, silencing the dwarf. “You have killed refugees trying to reach us as we evacuated Ascalon. You have dragged us into your war with Jarlis Ironhammer after we repeatedly told you we wish nothing but safe haven and passage.”

“But,” Urhal beseeched her, “you have to take me back to Prince Rurik. I…surrendered.”

“I would so be bound,” Faith conceded and Urhal relaxed slightly. “If we were going back to the bend.

“But we are not.”

“You want war? So be it; the Ascalon refugees are at war with the Stone Summit. And I am on a mission that cannot afford to be slowed down by prisoners. Even half of one.”

“NO!”

“GURGLE!”

“Ya know,” Stephan said, wiping his axe clean, “I coulda done that and saved you a speech.”

“Shut up,” Faith said, but there was no venom. “I’m the group leader; it was my responsibility to pass sentence.”

“My Gods,” Colin said, staring at the blasted bowl they were now in the center of. “We just took out a whole platoon of them. I count forty two bodies, addin in the puddles Kali made outa them golems.”

“We got of lighter than I feared we would,” Faith said stoicly, and the ranger staggered. Melody had withdrawn momentarily, but burst forward when Idiot limped back to the group. The small woman was worrying over the stalker now, physically and magically soothing its wounds. Cuddles had managed to sneak from her pack when she fell, and the troll was chewing appreciatively on—Faith turned away from Toris’ and Cuddles with a groan. “When I first saw the platoon, I feared they would have the same scattered through the trail leading up to Iron Horse. All their commanders in the same place though—or at least, most of them; The Judge, Hussfar Ironfeast, and Ulrik aren’t here. They may be blocking the southern pass still with Inar Frostbite.

“Thank Melandru for small favors,” Colin relied.

“I might,” Faith replied, “later. But for now it looks as though whatever Mhenlo’s team disclosed, the Summit misunderstood. They think we mean to push a large group through here. If we’d been bigger, Toris and his commanders would have retreated back into Iron Horse with their teams. There’s a bottleneck up that way near the old resurrection shrine; they could have conceivably stalled a large force there for days with help from the centaurs on the way.

“But they were overconfident,” Kali concluded. “Figured we were a scouting party instead of…”

“The force they were warned to ward against,” Faith nodded. “They fought us out here, in the open where we could see them. But where they could wait for Rurik’s people too.”

“But we still don’t know what else we have to face,” Stephan offered.

“I’m betting little of none,” Colin replied. “If Faith is right then they never intended to have any serious fighting until we had pushed them back into the bottleneck, where our ‘numbers’ would be useless while their small teams could spell each other for…days.”

“Lets hope anyway,” Faith said, turning toward the corpses around her, checking over her horde. She had managed to keep six up in the short fight, 1 bone minion and five fiends. Thee were still a few corpses left she could exploit for fodder. “By the time I reach the mines, whats left of the horde I make here will be ready to drop no matter how hard Mel and I work. Speaking of which.

“Melody?”

The monk jerked again as if struck, turning her eyes to the necromancer. Faith smiled, sending confidence through the link. “Are you okay?”

“I,” the monk shuddered, “um,” she glanced at the ground around them. She could see the bodies around her. She knew what had happened still. Shattering Peace and Harmony had done far more damage to Faith’s team than anything the mesmers could have done.

“Mel-o-dee?” Alia cooed again, soothing the monk the same way she was soothing Idiot. “Your spell. Use your spell again por us. Please?” Faith suppressed a growl. Alia might had handled the fight adequately—even if she strayed from Faith’s orders a few times, but that was forgiven as targets of opportunity had presented themselves. But that deceptive shield was still locked in place, keeping Faith—keeping everyone out.

“But,” Melody looked at Alia questioningly, “I don’t…need to.”

“I like to see dee liddle flash. It is such a pretty spell and you use it all dee time. It has such a pretty flash. May I see it again? Please?”

“Okay,” Melody concentrated and Peace and Harmony flashed a gold and blue nimbus around her. She relaxed a little more.

“Very pretty; thank you.” The mesmer nuzzled Melody behind the ear, and the monk gave a confused giggle.

When Alia turned, her face was stern; the softness of her voice was gone and she spoke with clinical confidence. “I spent some time discussing er condition wit Zee Team. It seems that the more she applies her spell to herself, the more quickly her traumas dissipate. A few more casts and she will have forgotten what we just did, and to oo.

“We must make certain to shut down any mesmer who would strip her spell again, “Alia continued. “These dwarves are not like dee charr. They fight just as dirty, but they are more knowledgeable about what will break us down. It was not until they saw her elite that they considered Melody the threat. They will do everything they can to kill our monk.”

“Then we’d best get moving,” Faith replied. “Let me get a horde up, in case we need it.” The word “our” was the deciding factor in Faith’s decision not to send Alia back to the bend. Shielded or not, she had let her hand slip. She viewed Melody in a proprietary manner. A member of her team. Shield or no shield, Faith could feel the heat in Alia’s voice as she laid out the means to defend Melody from another Shatter Enchantment to Colin. Perhaps it was just a sense of obligation to one who had tended her wounds when she reached yak’s bend. Maybe it was more. But Alia would defend the group as best she could—she wouldn’t slack off or sneak out on her own.

She’d stick. And in time, she might even fit. Something in Faith knew that now.

Minus Sign · Feb 14, 2008, 08:37 AM // 08:37

*24*

“Looks like you’ere right,” Colin said a minute later. He had slipped out quickly in the intervening space between his talk with Alia and the team’s march north to scout ahead. His face promised good news. “Don’t see a hair nor hide of nothing up that way all up to the bottleneck. That’s as far as yer horde’ll git, right?”

“By then, they’ll be too decomposed for melody and I to waste energy keeping them alive. If you’re sure its clear, I’ll let them drop as we move and we can run all that faster.”

Colin nodded; he was sure. “Pick up yer feet necro; we got a walk to make.”

So the slow trudging march—punching their way through patrol after patrol—that Faith had dreaded turned into a run for their lives. No dwarf on the summit could have missed the display Kali had caused summoning her Meteor Shower. Something would be coming to check. Soon.

But, Faith wondered, trying to hide her own concern from the group through the link ,what will our reception be when we reach the mines? Are there more waiting for us, or are they expecting Rurik’s team to be stymied by the group here? I can’t set us wrong again.

I have to do this one right.

The last of her horde had collapsed when the answer came limping into view. Faith tensed as a hoarse “Faith!” issued from a weary Mhenlo, his robes in taters; his team…only Cynn seemed fresh. The elementalist was supporting Mhenlo. Faith nearly gawked. The testy—typically short tempered—elementalist had a cast in her eyes as desperate as Melody’s. Her face was still pinched up like a woman who ate nothing but lemons, but her eyes were fretful with worry for the monk in her arms.

“Faith,” Mhenlo called more quietly as she and the casters reached his group. They were hunkered beneath a resurrection shrine, soft blue/white light soothing away the worst of their wounds. To one side, a female necromancer she did not recognize—short dark red hair with a wide mouth—was breathing shallowly and lying on her back, unconscious. Beside her the bandaged head of a male elementalist had swung drunkenly up to regard the gathering group. He seemed to count them, shake his head mournfully, and sit his head back between his knees.. Melody reached out to the injured pair but Mhenlo waved her away. “Leave that off Mel. You’ll need your energy; let the shrine do its work.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his attention turning back to Faith and—she was surprised to see—Colin, “we tried to sneak through the north, but it’s crammed full of Etins.”

“I got your note.”

“Sorry,” Mhenlo said, not sounding sorry at all. He sounded harried, haggard from strain and exhaustion. “Lana and her half-ranger heritage. She kept trying to sneak just a little further into the mine; just a little more info on their numbers, you know? Next thing we knew, we had Summit on every side, Etins on our flank and alarm’s tolling through—” Mhenlo took a composing breath. “It got bad fast.”

“Where is she?”

“Yeah,” the monk rubbed his bald head, exhaustion giving way to true regret. “Not good to speak ill of the dead. She’s in there too deep and I can’t rebirth her without starting another fight.

“Looks like you’ve done enough of that,” Faith said off-handedly.

“Watch it necro.”

“Shut up Cynn.”

“Both of you,” Mhenlo snapped, getting four fiery eyes for his trouble. “Stop.

“Anyway,” he said, forcing himself upright so as not to rely too heavily on Cynn. The elementalist eyes shot daggers at Faith, but her hands hovered close, ready in case he looked ready to fall. Mhenlo looked perpetually ready to fall at the moment. “I’m sorry for the extra hassle to you and yours; looks like you fought your way through all of traveler’s vale to get here.”

“Just half,” Kali offered, smiling awkwardly.

“Heh,” Cynn laughed. Faith shook her head.

“Look,” Mhenlo continued, pointing to a group of shadows on the northmost path behind him. As the dwarves reached the rise of a hill, they stopped. Counting Faith’s team, the small group appeared to decide fighting would not be in their best interest, and began making their way slowly back north, away from the shrine and the humans. “They keep trying to scout up here. We’ve been lucky so far. They haven’t sent anything larger than a five man group.

“Its almost like they want to keep us here,” Cynn said thoughtfully.

“There was a platoon on its way,” Stephan said casually. The male ele groaned and Cynn seemed to slump under Mhenlo’s weight.

“They aren’t any more,” Faith offered, and Mhenlo perked at that, glancing again at the ragid state of her group. “But my guess is, if you’d stayed here like this you were going to find yourself sandwiched shortly.”

“What do you mean ‘they aren’t any more’?”

“We took care of it. The way down is clear; I suggest you take it while you can.”

“We will,” and exhaustion for his efforts turned to honest awe at theirs, Mhenlo held out his hand, taking Faith’s by the forearm. “Gods Faith; a platoon? I’ll let Rurik know you made it this far, and what you’ve done.”

"Tell him to move his ass; the Summit won’t sit still much longer now. They’re bound to retaliate once they know who died today and Yak’s Bend is too cut off a target to not be tempting.”

“Who died?”

Faith let Kali rattle off the list as she moved toward the red headed necromancer. She was covered in baby-pink skin. New skin, not woven or repaired. the rez shrine continued to hum in soft light, continued working to heal what had been done to her.

“What could do this?” came a soft whisper behind her ear, and Faith jerked physically. Alia knelt down on the other side of the necromancer, resting a hand on the woman’s wrist in a curious manner. “To burn it all off? It would kill her in the process. This skin was…

“Corrupted,” Mhenlo offered. “That’s the other thing you six need to know about before you head up that way. Faith…I am…”

“Stop saying you’re sorry,” she almost snapped. Mhenlo wasn’t like this; making apologies left and right for things he’d had no control over. The scout mission had gone bad. These things happened and he knew it. But something had shaken the monk in more than a physical way. His spirit had been crushed in the Iron horse Mine.

"There are these…things…up there. I’ve never seen anything like them before."

“What’d’they look like?” Colin asked, his own voice dropped to match theirs. He knelt next to Alia, examining the unconscious necromancer as well.

“Bugs,” Mhenlo said with a shaky whisper. Faith was right; the man talked as if reliving the battle. “On four legs. With big head, small bodies.”

“Dryders,” Colin said. “I’ve heard of em; never seen one alive though.”

“Its necromancer mana,” Alia offered. “iz it naught?”

“Yeah,” Mhenlo said. “It was like her flesh,” he sighed, shaking his head, “like it twisted off her. Her body…rejected it. I couldn’t heal her. Well; I mean I could but…Gods it’s hard to explain."

“Defile Flesh,” Faith supplied. “It’s a curse spell, and a nasty one. Your healing—anything’s healing—gets wrapped up trying to reduce what the hex does.

“Even a rez shrine, apparently.” Faith turned from her examination of the necromancer to Mhenlo, “is this why you’re so sorry all a sudden?"

The monk nodded. “The southern route is still defended, but there probably aren’t any officers reconnoitered there yet. It’s your best chance to get into to Anvil Rock. But that’s how we got out of the mines too; we broke through there because it was the weakest area. And when we did—when we were mopping up the last of the Summit that’d followed—these things, these dryders attacked us. For no reason; they just jumped us like we were a free meal.

“Olivia was already in a bad way when we got out of the mine. Those things went for her first and hard. She hasn’t woken up since,” he trembled as he laid a hand on the necromancer’s cheek. “Considering what that hex must have felt like when she fainted, I’m grateful for it.

“They weren’t that hard to kill but the hex…their hexes linger.”

“If those things’re that bad,” Colin said, standing up, “we can avoid em. We’ve all of us dealt with Etins and Summit before.”

Mhenlo shook his head. “The mine is mobilized; you’ll face a staunch defense if you go near it. The bridge south isn’t required for its defense,” and he pointed to a bright corridor beyond, the first flurry of snow beginning to pelt the ground beyond. Where they stood, in the bottleneck, the snow was a small thing. In the wide expanse beyond, the wind whipped it into a fury of white. It’s still going to be better than punching your way through the mines. Trust me on this; if you can hit the bridge and break out, you’ll stand a better chance getting to the Anvil.”

Faith stood as well, her lips puckered in a pouting frown. “You need to get back to the bend now Menhlo.”

The monk nodded, helping the elementalist to his feet. The other man looked at her, only one eye was unbound and it was watery, the skin around it bruised. He shook his head and began to shuffle away. Stephan helped Cynn—the most able of the group to retreat—rig a stretcher to carry Olivia. The necromancer made no sound as they shifted her from the hard ground to the contraption, made not a peep when Mhenlo and Melody checked her in turn.

“What’d’you think Faith?” Colin asked in that same whispered—almost conspiratorial—tone. He was looking at the fork beyond; the dark maw of the Iron Horse Mine to their north, the flurry filled expanse of white out trail to their south. “North side and through a wall of Summit or south and maybe meet your maker?”

Faith sighed. It was Grendich all over again. Two roads to follow; danger at both ends. But which was worse?

I can’t be wrong again.