2nd Day of Ash, 122nd Year of the Age of Steel
“Come with me.” Sabrione said as she walked quickly past Masagh in the tunnel from the warehouse. She and Cleon had just returned from a patrol. Masagh turned to watch them rush past towards the Grand Hall. They didn’t appear injured, so it must not have gone badly. Masagh turned and followed them into the Hall.
“Where is the Lady Creth?” Sabrione asked loudly to a pair of ghoul, unsworn, who were chatting near the front of the hall.
“Don’t know, why?” One said.
“She’s been up in the Mausoleum while you were gone. Talking to Lady Parthena, Weaponmaster.” The other said quickly, sensing Sabrione’s ire just under the surface.
“Right.” Sabrione said, leading the way. They passed through the underwater secret entrance that came out behind one of the relief fountains in the Mausoleum. The highly polished marble floors and ornate statues, the brightly lit corridors were all a stark contrast to what Masagh normally associated with home. But the Mausoleum was the legitimate business face of the House, hiding their real nature beneath a respectable Imperium sanctioned front.
One of Parthena’s Maligners was on the other side of the entrance and bowed her head to Sabrione. “Can I help you Weaponmaster?”
“Where’s Lady Creth.” Sabrione asked. The girl looked like she was about to ask for clarification on which Lady Creth she meant, but one look at Sabrione’s dark face stopped the words in her throat.
“Right this way.” She lead them down a few narrow corridors to a door and knocked. Parthena’s vibrant and healthy guise appeared in the doorway.
“Yes?”
“The Weaponmaster requests-“ The Maligner began and Sabrione pushed past them both. Cleon and Masagh followed behind. Leave it to Sabrione to drop the social graces and cut to the point.
“Mother, I’ve got word that a family of ghouls has been captured.” Sabrione said without preamble. Any protest from Parthena died at those words. It the order of possible precedent, the liberation of stranger ghouls was very high. It was a core duty of the Knights in fact.
“Ours? Who?” Emerande said from where she sat on one side of Parthena’s desk.
“No, some family from north along the coast. Some fishing village.” Sabrione said. “The Imperium is bringing them to the city by way of the Veris, should be offloading near the north road tonight and camping there until daylight.
“A family of ghouls we don’t know?” Emerande half stood and her eyes unfocused with calculations. “Are you sure they will be brought here alive?”
Sabrione nodded. “I heard there are experiments planned before they terminate…”
“Have you been there before? Can you manage?” Emerande asked, referencing something that neither of them needed explained apparently.
“Yes, close enough.” Sabrione said, turning and eyeing Masagh and Cleon. “I can bring these two and that should be enough.
“How many, do you know?” Emerande asked.
Sabrione shrugged. “Rumor has a pair and their children, don’t know how many they’ve got.”
Emerande touched her chest softly. “Children. It would be good to have some around the Compound again.” Her eyes shifted to Masagh briefly. “Very well, go and free these ghouls. Be quick, but I will not have my Knights dying for it.”
Sabrione nodded, hearing what she had needed to in order to act. “As you say, Lady Creth.” She invoked the traditional response when receiving an order. “You two, let’s go.”
Masagh and Cleon followed her out into the hallway.
“Mother, where are they going?” Masagh heard Parthena say to Emerande as they slid past her.
“Alright, here’s the deal.” Sabrione spun on her heal and said to Masagh. “We’ve got a ghoul family being transported in a reinforced cage apparently. They’ve been heading down the coast for three days, and kept alive during the day. I’m familiar with the region and can get us pretty close to where they will be making landfall on this side of the Veris. We’re going now.” She glanced between them. “We go in hard, kill whoever you have to but break that cage open. We bring any ghouls we see back here. Questions?”
Cleon shook his head. Masagh glanced at him briefly. He had many questions, but most of them were not pertinent in the tactical sense and could wait. He curled his claw-like fingers around the hilt of his claymore and nodded also.
“Great, just the way I like it.” Sabrione muttered as she turned. She invoked the Traversing Rune engraved on her forehead and touched the air before her. Aether and light swirled and a crackling tear in reality formed. Sabrione easily maintained the stability of the portal, ushering them both through.
Masagh had seen her use the magic before. She had stepped out of the portals unharmed directly in front of him. Yet he had never been in one. He hesitated. Dark energies unnatural to his world swirled and pulsed in the tear. Cleon stepped forward and out of sight.
“Oh come on.” Sbarione said, grappling his chest armor. A strong pull and he was sent toppling into the portal. Sabrione stepped through behind him. There was a world of swirling amethyst light and tendrils of glowing color. Panic settled in his mind and it was all Masagh could do not to yell out in fright. Sabrione was there, guiding him with her hand. It felt like only a moment and they were suddenly stepping through another crack in reality.
The three Knights stepped out onto a dark grassy hilltop overlooking a landscape of wild rolling hills and forests. To clarify, Sabrione stepped out. Cleon and Masagh stumbled out and heaved a bit, bent over their knees. When he steadied his stomach Masagh stood up and looked out across the wide open landscape. The glint of a winding river flickered below them, the moon reflected in it.
“Told you I could get us close.” Sabrione said, standing upright and unbothered by the recent Slipspace travel. She was grinning and pointing over his shoulder, eyes bright with malice. Masagh turned and on the edge of the river where the north road intersected, about two miles distant, there was a small orange glow. “Let’s go get into some trouble.” Sabrione hissed, the relish thick in her voice.
It was a short twenty minutes later that they crouched in the tree line beyond the camp. Masagh could make out five figures either sitting around the cooking fire or else standing just out of its light, facing into the dark night.
“They’re experienced, set a two man watch.” Cleon muttered, fingers grazing the hilt of his blade. “Got them facing out from the fire too.”
“You see any others besides these five?” Sabrione asked.
“No.” Cleon said.
“There’s the prison wagon. They’ve got another there, light inside.” Masagh pointed out.
“Right. Plan.” Sabrione said. “Masagh, you Dance your blade to block that wagon door, make sure you’ve got a spare in hand though. Cleon, you take out the watchman on the left, I’ll get the right. We strike on your move, Masagh.”
The grass was wet as Masagh crawled low through it. There was a copse of thorny bushes to the left that would provide a good vantage on the back of the second wagon. As he crawled he tried to peer into the prison wagon to see how many they had. It was to no avail though. In the darkness he could not make out details that far. He had to take it in faith that Sabrione’s details were accurate.
When in position Masagh drew his blade as silently as he could. The familiar shimmering was almost invisible in the night’s darkness as he crafted the Duplicate. His true sword spun into the air, catching the firelight as it expertly whipped about. He sent it at the door of the wagon with velocity. The blade sunk into the wood, across the door like a bar, with a hearty thwack.
The guards had just enough time to look at the sword before Sabrione and Cleon’s claymores tore through the air. Cleon’s embedded itself hilt-deep in the chest of the nearest watchman. He fell to the earth silently. Sabrione’s was a spinning rhythmic glinting of firelight as the blade dipped low and took the head of the other.
“Reaver!”
The shout came up from the camp and the remaining guards struggled to their feet. Masagh did not wait. He charged forward, spurred on by righteous anger. They wanted to hunt his kind? They would reap the fruits of their labor. One of them caught sight of him and turned a spear towards him. A round shield was held tight to his side with the other hand.
The ghoul-covered claymore lashed out, flicking the spear aside. Masagh stepped forward hard and thrust. His strike wound have gutting the man, but instead it pushed hard against the shield. The soldier yelled something at him he didn’t understand and thrust forward with the spear. Masagh knocked it aside impetuously.
Sabrione and Cleon were engaged across the fire. He and his opponent were just resetting when the wagon door flew open with a crash. His sword finally dislodged and cast aside. Three more men emerged in tunics but carrying weapons. Masagh wasted no more time as at least one spotted him and began a charge.
The pact blade returned to his side in the air. He and the pair of blades, one in his hands and one hovering about him, were a twirling harmony of motion and edges. He struck out with the blade in his hand. When the soldier moved to block it, the dancing blade lashed out and knocked the shield aside. With a furious snarl of victory Masagh drove the blade home in the man’s chest. For good measure the dancing blade spun quickly about and beheaded him also. Blood sprayed across Masagh’s lower face as he freed his blade and looked to the other men standing between him and the imprisoned ghouls.
He heard their shouts of encouragement now. Whoever was in that wagon knew someone was out here fighting to get to them.
