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[Memory] The Dawn Will Come (I)
Posted: Sun Jul 24, 2022 8:56 pm
by Laveriel
The Dawn Will Come
68th of Glade, Year 390 of the Age of Sundering
No matter how many times she had seen it, the scale of destruction the Cult of Mending left behind would never fail to make Veriel’s heart sink. What must have been sturdy stone houses had been destroyed into barely recognizable rubbles, the stones scorched dark by flames. Wooden roofs had cracked and collapsed into themselves. It had been a small town in the middle of a clearing called Weaver’s Rest, known for the baskets they made out of plants from the nearby river.
The Siltori climbed off her horse as she made her through the beaten path, three knights trailing behind her. It didn’t take long for her to start noticing the corpses here and there, rotting and abandoned. She looked back trying to assess her subordinates. It was very likely the first time they saw decaying bodies. Sergeant Jerys Kern’s brown wings fluttered in discomfort, while the younger knights visibly paled.
A traveling peddler had come to their Dawnmartyr camp two days ago, alerting them of its presence. In response to that, the knight-commander had chosen Veriel to be in charge of finding out what happened to said town. The Pathfinders had deemed that it should be a quick and safe exploit since most sightings of the dead had been seen coming from the southwest. Their trackers had also found evidence that it was where signs on the cult had been found.
Meanwhile, the town was located in the north of their camp. All she needed to do was gather the survivors and bring them to the camp so they could help them relocate to a safe city. It would only take about a half-day ride to the town. Easy. So, the young Siltori had chosen two freshly initiated knights and a sergeant to accompany her. It shouldn’t take more than a day or two.
Taking the lead, Veriel summoned Iratallin in her hand and scanned their surroundings. “Stay alert and look for any signs of life.”
“Yes, lieutenant.” The dejectedness of Knight Erich Reisinger’s answer almost made her smile. Behind him, Knight Lorgan Arrel parroted the same lifeless reply as he steered the horsedrawn cart.
All of them had grumbled about being chosen by her. About a few dozen knights had been dispatched near Central Ecith to intercept the rising dead that had been growing at a worrying pace. With suspicions of the cult’s involvement, the Dawnmartyrs had gone to investigate and deal with the threat. They must have imagined that it would be full of action and fighting. A battle would be inevitable, of course, but fighting was not the only thing a Dawnmartyr did. Helping civilians who had been affected by the Graveplague was also a big part of their responsibility.
Still, the young woman could empathize with their frustration. She wasn’t any different when she first survived her Reaving initiation. It had been exhilarating and she felt invincible. All she wanted to do was swing her blades. But after years of violence and losing friends, Veriel had learned to enjoy the quiet missions, the ones that allowed her to breathe and still bring some good to the world.
Fortunately, she spotted no threats. The only movement she had caught was from the only building left standing after whatever disaster had struck this place. Perhaps calling it standing was a bit generous. The roof was sagging down to one side with wooden shutters barely hanging on its hinges. A pale face had appeared peering from one of the windows. Veriel assumed that the survivors had gathered there for protection.
Jerys stepped forward and sheathed his blade, raising his hands in a gesture of peace. “We’re the Dawnmartyrs. We’re here to help!”
The face disappeared and she immediately heard movements from inside the house. Just like that, the door opened with a painful creak. Villagers covered in dried blood and dirt slowly filtered out, eyes taking in the symbol on their armor.
Despite Erich’s earlier lack of spirit, the young man was the first to approach them to help a limping man out of the house. “You’re safe now.”
Men and women alike burst into tears at his words, perhaps seeing hope for the first time. Veriel turned her head back to survey the eerie silence of the ruined town. There was nothing that she should be alerted with. Yet, her eyes settled on a marking on the wall of a ruined house - eerily resembling a pictograph. It was most likely just leftovers of what the cult had used to destroy the town.
However, Veriel still couldn’t shake the apprehension settling in the pit of her stomach.
Re: [Memory] The Dawn Will Come
Posted: Fri Aug 05, 2022 3:21 am
by Laveriel
Sixteen survivors had been holed up in the building that had been a blacksmith for almost two weeks, elders and children alike. They had been trying to survive by scavenging through the ruins and hunting near their town. With five people heavily injured, they did not dare risk the journey to the nearest village over usually would take a day of a horse ride.
Veriel watched as Lorgan and Erich helped bandage an old woman who had broken her leg. Once all the townspeople had packed up what little belonging they had left, they should leave as soon as possible. There hadn’t been anything suspicious for the past three hours, but the young woman could not shake off the unsettling feeling. She had even ordered Jerys to take to the sky and scout their surroundings, but everything seemed fine. Perhaps the weeks of travel had made her edgy.
“We should start getting ready to leave,” the Siltori announced loudly so that everyone could hear. She turned to the young man with green eyes and dark hair who had been the first to introduce himself as Jakob, the son of the local alderman. “The cart won’t fit everyone so you should decide who gets to ride and who goes on foot.”
Jakob nodded somberly and jogged towards his people, pointing and explaining. The young man had acted as the leader of the survivors when his father had left with a couple of the men to find help from nearby villages. Unfortunately, more than a week had passed and no one had heard from them and no one ever came. No one dared to go too far from the village after that.
He had also told her what he had gathered from his people. No one really knew how the attack first started, most only have bits and pieces of the story. Strange men and women had come to the town and buildings started catching fire. When people fled their homes, the attackers were waiting and killed anyone that was in sight. They took food and horses, but Jakob said that it seemed like that wasn’t their focus. Instead of leaving after getting supplies, they prowled the town and murdered every last person they can find. The old stone walls that had always served as protection now trapped them inside.
Jerys’s landing beside her broke her thoughts. “You seem troubled, lieutenant.”
“Whoever did this… They have something in mind, some goal.” Most bandits and highwaymen would simply rob and threaten, without causing such a level of slaughter. Not to mention the destruction they caused in a single night… No simple criminals did this. “They want someone to notice.”
The Avialae paled a little as the idea sunk into his head. “Do you think they wanted us to notice?”
“I’d rather not find out.” Veriel’s grip on Iratallin’s hilt tightened as she strode over to where Erich was helping the last elder climb the cart. Everyone else seemed able-bodied enough to walk for at least a few hours. They could rest and make camp once it get dark. “Let’s just leave as soon as possible.”
Was it a stretch to imagine that they want the Dawnmartyrs to take note specifically? The word of their presence had spread through the villages like wildfire. A random peddler had even known where they were to be able to give this information. It was common knowledge that their order would often assist struggling towns.
And here they were, standing in a remote town surrounded by dozens of the dead. The young woman’s silvery eyes took one last sweep of their surroundings. Jakob would drive the cart with the other survivors following behind. Erich, a Warforged, was already taking his position, guarding and leading the front. Lorgan was still checking into houses further away, making sure that there was no one else left in the ruined town.
“Arrel, let’s go!” Jerys called out to the younger knight.
“I think someone is in here!” Lorgan replied back.
She watched as Lorgan approached a pile of rubble. It was indeed shaking slightly. Alarms started ringing inside her head. “No, wait-” Her warning was cut off by the crashing of stones as the Spellforged pushed the wreckage with aether, freeing whatever was trapped inside. He bent down it to get a closer look. Veriel broke into a run toward him.
Everything slowed down in the Siltori’s eyes. Whatever Lorgan saw, it startled him. He frantically moved back only to trip on debris and fall right on his back. He opened his mouth and closed it again. The fear in his voice when he finally called out to her made her veins run with ice. “Knight-Lieutenant!”
A part of her, in that split second, prayed that it was nothing, that he was merely startled by something mundane. But the young woman didn’t believe it herself. No. As she ran, Dawnstrife materialized in her hand.
In front of Lorgan, from that rubble, a rotting corpse rose.
Re: [Memory] The Dawn Will Come (I)
Posted: Sun Aug 14, 2022 3:03 am
by Anton
Review
Lore: 6
Points: 8, 2 of these may be used for Reaving
Injuries/Ailments: None
Loot: None
Notes: I always love looks back on the Age of Sundering, and the cliffhanger with the undead was a very fun way to cap it off