Legend of Ransera

“Rava!”

Her head swiveled up at the sound of her false name. Rava was the name of her neighbor’s youngest daughter back in Auris. They used to play together in her backyard until their family moved to the countryside. It was easier for her to use familiar names, less likely for her to mess it up.

Kadyn was standing in front of her table, hands crossed as he inspected the jars of sinew thread and blood liqueur she had been working on. “Are you planning on stocking every hospital in Kalzasi? I think we have enough for us to last the entire year.”

Veriel looked out the window to see the soft golden light of the sun sinking between the trees, filtering through the cracked window of the clinic. It was then she felt the stiffness in her joints, the slight soreness as she straightened her spine. Maybe she was overdoing it. She laughed as she closed the last jar. “It’s better to be prepared and don’t worry, I am planning to charge you for the extra hours.”

“You’re planning on running me broke so you can set up your own clinic, don’t you?” he teased. “But seriously go home. You’ve made so much ichor, it must have been taxing for you.”

It was, but she really didn’t mind it. Still, it was getting late.

With a dramatic sigh, she made a show of packing up her things. Veriel peered into their mini ward, with all three beds filled. There was Miri, a young woman who fell off a horse and broke her arm. Ugur, the old man who lived alone on the edge of the village who had a hard time breathing these few days. And lastly, Jorgie, a child who had been having high fevers but still had the energy to keep playing hide and seek in the clinic. They all seemed fine so it should be safe for her to go home.

“Don’t forget to bring me Harr’s sweet rolls tomorrow,” Jorgie called out as she headed for the front door.

"Only if you promise not to hide in our supply closet anymore," she replied playfully.

It had been good, working at Kadyn’s clinic. The young man’s a physician from the city who preferred to work far from the hubbub of civilization. She mostly acted as his assistant and provided necromancy to help. Getting into a routine had always helped her forget about her reality, that she was still on the run.

Just as her hand rested on the knob of the front door, she heard the shrill bell. It had been a while since she heard it, but they all knew what it meant.

Bandits.

Safe Haven
19 Glade 118 AoS

Grigori's cloak was pulled up, shrouding his handsome face as he strolled towards the edge of the city. Strapped to his waist was his rapier, but he didn't feel the need to carry it in the open. Not out here. Often his walks would bring him to this side of the city, essentially into the wilderness, as he set out to think and meditate on his craft. The hustle and bustle of the city was distracting enough, but being a Kozoku's son brought with it enough attention that he would be attending people all day. That was Zevan's specialty; Grigori craved the silence of the wilderness.

Deft footfalls drew him slickly through the thinning crowds, and he made sure not to bump or make contact with anyone as he moved. Any attention would bring his identity to the forefront, which defeated the purpose of the walk. Instead, he made it a game of dodging in between the landscape and the citizenry, imagining that he was dancing through foes on a battlefield, using the terrain to his advantage as he flowed around the resistance. He smiled softly under the hood, letting his feet take him where they may.

He'd made the trek many times, countless even, to a small glade that Dalm had recommended so that he may meditate on his blade. It was secluded, and though it was sometimes used by youthful lovers as a secret meeting place, it was often the solitude that he needed. It was a place sacred to him, and one he would not suffer to lose due to losing his anonymity. As he passed a group of armored warriors, though, he raised his eyes enough to meet their faces, taking in their grim visages before sliding by them. He was unsure of their allegiance, but their presence felt wrong. It was too far from the city proper for a diplomatic retinue, and their donned arms and armor told him that they were here looking for something... Or someone. He continued on his journey.

It wasn't long before he realized they were heading in the same direction he was. At first, it crossed his mind that perhaps they were following him, but how could they know who he was? He was sure there was no glimmer of recognition from the warrior whose eyes he'd met, and he didn't recognize the sigils they bore on their shields and armaments. No, they had to be going in the same direction for a different reason. If he were a more curious man, he might instead dally so that he might instead follow them to their destination. Rather, he continued along the path that skirted by Kadyn's clinic, an off-the-beaten-path infirmary that prided itself on quiet and attentive care for its patrons. He'd passed the building many times, but rarely paid it any mind. This time, however, his focus was drawn to the building and he lingered for a moment, something pulling at his brain.

He was correct; the armored men stopped at the door of the clinic, and after conversing among themselves outside of his earshot, they began rapping on the door. The sound was loud and jarring, echoing off the growing forest to reverberate off tree and stone. Three loud raps, a pause, and three more. Whoever these men were, they meant business, and Grigori had a feeling that the business wasn't cordial. He instead crouched next to a tall tree, watching from afar as they men assailed the door in search of their quarry. If it was Kadyn, Grigori could not imagine what crime these men would levy against the healer. If there was another in the clinic... He doubted Kadyn would keep company with the sorts that would require a full military escort. Either way, the warrior in his instructed him to stay, to watch to see how this played out... And should it come to blows, perhaps get a few licks in himself. And so he sat, body coiled like a spring ready to leap into action.

Safe Haven
19 Glade 118 AoS

The noble son watched as the events unfolded before him. Kadyn, the physician that ran the clinic, answered the door, and immediately began to negotiate with the band of men. They were tense, Grigori could tell, but no matter what the doctor told them, they did not seem to believe him. One of them lifted a gauntleted fist and Kadyn fell to his knees, lacing his fingers behind his head. He looked back towards the clinic, seemingly trying to protect the infirm within, but Grigori knew that the warriors were demanding that everyone come outside for inspection. Certain these men were not just common bandits, Grigori began creeping forward towards the confrontation, using trees and shrubs to hide his approach. Each footfall was carefully placed, so as to not alert the men to his presence, though they seemed to be focused on whomever was in the building.

Out came the sick, a man, two women and a young boy. Grigori bit down on his teeth, clenching as he watched the warriors force them all to their knees. His fingers wrapped around the hilt of his rapier, and he waited to see where this would go. The men checked each of the ill, going between them and searching their faces. It wasn’t until they got to the final woman that Grigori realized what was happening: the warriors were looking for someone specific. And it appears they found her.

He flinched when the armor-clad man slammed her face to the ground and put his boot on her head. He knew that it must have hurt, but the woman gave little indication, and instead she laid there submissively. Grigori could feel the air crackling with tension, and he knew before Kadyn moved that he was going to. Even from where he was, Grigori could see the doctor’s fists balling and his legs tensing beneath him. Before Kadyn leaped to his feet, Grigori was already moving, darting forward to intervene and help the man and his charges.

Up Kadyn came, and he tackled the man whose boot held the woman on the ground. “Rava”, he had called her, and he told her to run. It happened in an instant, but it felt like an eternity; one of the men raised a sword to strike down the physician, and the woman reacted in a way that Grigori could have never expected… She summoned her blade and threw it into the warrior’s chest, stopping him cold. However, of all the Reaving he’d seen training with Dalm, he could not have expected the thousands of little cuts that erupted from the man’s flesh, and his scream was enough to curdle the young noble’s blood in his vein.

Adrenaline pumping, Grigori entered the scene just as the man bowed, calling the Reaver a title that made the hairs on his neck stand. “Dread Witch,” the Inquisitor called her, and Grigori could not imagine what a woman would have to do to earn such a moniker. Being behind the the group of men, directly facing Rava, Grigori’s heart pounded as he met her eyes beyond the bowing man. Something unspoken passed between them, and Grigori too allowed his aether to flow, drawing from it the slender rapier that he’d grown so accustomed to summoning. Like Rava’s, his weapon was meant for war, and as he approached the man from behind, he slashed at the thigh of one of the men holding the sick woman on her knees. Pact blade met the man’s flesh, and when he turned to look at Grigori, his face was full of surprise. Whether he had not expected another combatant, or he was surprised that the blow had actually landed, he faltered and let the woman go. Pirouetting around the now-bleeding warrior, Grigori intercepted one of the remaining four men on his way to grab Kadyn. He planted his feet and launched a stout kick to the man’s chest, knocking him back and allowing Kadyn to get his feet underneath himself. Kadyn and Grigori circled around to stand next to Rava, and Grigori locked eyes with the clean-shaven man who had called her a Dread Witch.

“My name is Grigori al Myros, son of Kozoku Khul al Myros. Before this charade continues, I demand that you present whatever evidence you have to accost this woman, and assault this establishment. Failure to do so will result in the full weight of Kalzasi law raining down on you,” Grigori said, holding the man’s gaze defiantly. It was not often that he would levy his father’s influence, especially when he sought so desperately to avoid being associated with his family. In this instance, however, he felt as though the weight of his authority might persuade the warrior to explain himself. It might cause him to falter at least.

Behind him, the forest stretched and began to thicken. They were only a short run to the hidden glade, and if the need arose, he would guide his new compatriots to that place to hide them. He could tell, though, that neither Kadyn nor this Rava woman would leave the other three, even if it meant an all-out battle with the remaining four warriors. He had no doubt that Rava could hold her own, but he worried about Kadyn, and he worried about the men using the sick people as bargaining chips, or worse; hostages.

Safe Haven
19 Glade 118 AoS

The Imperium. Grigori frowned, observing the man with a discerning eye. If this woman was in fact Laverial d'Revrinti, any crimes she had committed in Galeria would be hers to answer. In Galeria. Holding his ground, and Lionel's eye, Grigori allowed Rava her piece, absorbing the information. He did not know this woman, nor did he know this Inquisitor, but from the situation unfolding in front of him, he found himself believing the Reaver. His intuition was quickly proven correct, as she implored the apathetic inquisitor to release the others. It was the right move, but he knew before Lionel even answered that the man had no intention of doing so.

"If you truly believe this woman to be Laverial d'Revrinti, and you are here to remand her to the Imperium to answer for her crimes, you cannot in good conscience hold the rest of these people. Your fear--" he cut himself short as the air began to stir around them. He was not familiar with Elementalism in practice, but he could feel the air charge around him and knew that aether was being levied. Bending his knees, Grigori readied himself for combat. He'd never fought another mage that wasn't Dalm, and even then only in a non-lethal spar, but he knew that magic was dangerous, and it was obvious that Lionel would not stray from his mission. Not now.

"The law of Kalzasi does not allow a foreign dignitary to retrieve or extradite a criminal without consent of the Shokaze. It is not too late to end this altercation here and allow the law to reign. No matter the power afforded to you by the Imperium, I cannot allow you to simply seize her here. Her defense of her friend and ally does not incriminate this woman in regards to the crimes you have levied against her. Stand down, and this can be settled through the proper authorities," he said, "legally" he added. He watched for a change in the man, but knew none would be forthcoming.

"However, if you insist on pursuing this course, I am honor bound to defend the law of Kalzasi, and as such, this woman." Grigori moved his eyes slowly from Lionel to his remaining retinue, looking each man in his eye. He had to give them the chance to do the right thing, but this encounter had already soured him to the ways of the Inquisition already. These men would not leave her without a fight, and Grigori knew that Rava's first concern would be to protect the four innocents before herself. Already aware of his surroundings, Grigori began to devise a strategy.

The Inquisitors, now four after Rava's devastating blow to the man on the ground, had the numbers advantage. With the mage, presumably trained for combat, that made the fight all the more dangerous. But Grigori knew these woods, knew the terrain. He could use the trees and the clinic for cover, and with proper movement, it was possible to eliminate the men quickly without taking much damage. As his mind raced, he didn't know the suble movements from one of the men to Lionel's side, and then, in the blink of an eye, the man appeared behind Rava and wrapped his arms around her, binding her.

On instinct, Grigori spun and raised the hilt of his rapier, slamming the rounded pommel into the man's face and smashing his nose. Blood spattered from the shattered feature, gushing down the man's face. Dazed, he loosened his grip enough for Rava to break free, and the melee had begun. Grigori darted to his right, diving forward and rolling to create space betwen himself and Rava, opening their angle of attack. Stepping forward with his rapier raised, he stood between the sick patients and the Inquisitors, and no longer believing that diplomacy was an option, he set to the attack. He stalked forward, isolating on of the men, who drew his longsword. The two squared off against one another, Grigori light on his feet, the Inquistor planted and stout. Grigori watched the man intently, trying to discern his next move. His weapon was not meant to face multiple combatants, but if Dalm had taught him anything, it was that battle was not often fair, and almost never predictable. Going on the offensive, Grigori attacked.

He lunged forward, stabbing quickly with the rapier. The Inquisitor's armor would prevent slashing, at least on the majority of his body, so he had to hope that the razor sharp point could pierce the steel enough to score a blow. As he got close, the seasoned warrior batted his sword away, and Grigori allowed the momentum to redirect his movement, instead spinning around the man. The inquisitor followed, turning quickly and slashing with his sword. Grigori felt the force of the blow as he deflected the edge of the longsword with the flat of his blade.

That's going to hurt later, he thought, but focused instead on the man in front of him. With the longsword now pushed harmlessly to the side, Grigori closed the gap, pushing inside the weapon's range. Instead of using his rapier, Grigori lashed out and punched the inquisitor. The blow caught him by surprise, and gave Grigori enough pause to notice one of the other inquisitors closing the gap. Now two on one, Grigori fell back and readied his rapier, holding it out at the two men. Believing that Rava could hold her own, he prepared to engage both foes at once, just as the wind around them began to whip into a frenzy. Lionel needed to go. Looking at Rava over the men's shoulder, he had to hope that she would take care of the mage. She was definitely the more formidable of the two.

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Grigori knew that the inquisitors had found their mark, and as such, they were not as concerned with Kadyn and his wards. However, he had heard Lionel tell Rava that without them, the inquisitors lost a large defensive benefit, and as such, Grigori felt compelled to keep them safe. Between the inquisitors and Kadyn and crew, Grigori planted his feet and braced for an attack. If these two broke rank to chase the doctor, it would allow Grigori to focus on Lionel and the archer with Rava, but might mean losing the doctor and patients as well. Torn, he had to hope that they let the innocents escape, and from the corner of his eye, he saw them doing just that. Without taking his eyes from the warriors before him, Grigori shouted back.

"Kadyn! 80 F, 30 L, Sanctuary lies beyond the knotted veil!" It was a code, but one he hoped Kadyn would understand. The doctor was familiar with the woods, and while he may not know where the secluded grove was, eighty meters forward and thirty more to the left would lead him to a large tree whose thick leaves blocked the hidden entrance to the glade. He had to hope that was sufficient, because the two inquisitors used the opportunity to begin their advance.

The one with the longsword took a menacing step forward, and the Traverser drew a shortsword and a dirk. Before he could react, the traveling mage teleported behind him and kicked him in the small of his back, blasting the air from his lung and launching him towards the longsword, which was already in motion to intercept the young noble. Desperately sucking in air, Grigori tucked his head and rolled with the momentum, barely diving below the swinging sword. The air blew his hair back, but otherwise he was unwounded. Landing hard on his back and forcing himself to spring to his feet, Grigori turned to face the men once again. The mage was smiling, but the other was determined to finish Grigori so they could aid their leader. Grigori drew the mundane rapier from its scabbard, now holding a blade in each hand. One blade for each warrior, for better or worse.

The inquisitors separated, each approaching from a different angle. Grigori pushed forward with a cautious stab, testing their range and causing them to hitch their advance. The longsword had the reach advantage, but was much slower than Grigori's own swords, and the mage had to close the distance to attack, which he could do with just a though. Mind racing, Grigori weighed his options for attack and decided that defense would be the better play for now.

He wanted to check on Rava, to see how she fared against her opponents, but he could not move his focus from his own. He just needed an opening, and then he would capitalize. He didn't have a cursed blade, like Rava, but Dalm had taught him that in war, there was only one win condition: killing your opponent. And these men had come to war.

Now on his left and right, the inquisitors pushed their advantage. The traveler darted in quickly, using the speed and size of his weapons to allow him to get in close. The sword came in, and with deftly batted away by the mundane rapier, but the dirk was too quick to redirect his sword. The bulbous blade slashed into Grigori's shoulder, nearly causing him to drop the rapier. But Grigori didn't have time to even consider losing the weapon, because a devastating chop from the longsword on his left demanded his immediate attention. Sidestepping at the last second, he watched the larger sword slam into the earth, cutting a divet. Before the inquisitor could lift the sword, Grigori slashed at the hand holding it, clinking harmlessly off a chainmail glove. Unable to push the advantage any further due to the traveler, Grigori danced away and put distance between himself and his enemies. Once again, the began to circle to opposite sides.

Something had to change. He could not allow them to attack together; he had to press one and force the other to close the distance. Considering the traveler could do that instantly, he knew he needed to attack the mage and force the other man to enter to the fray. Spinning quickly, he rocked back on his heels and sprung forward, hoping to catch the mage off guard. He almost did, and the rapier glanced the man's cheek, leaving a thin line of crimson. Enraged, the mage leaped away and Grigori turned to face the longswordsman, who was closer than he'd have thought. The inquisitor was surprisingly agile for his encumbrance, and Grigori parried a blow with his pact weapon, riposting with a tricky stab from the mundane rapier. The blade finally found purchase in between the links of the chainmail, gouging at the warrior's shoulder and causing him to wince.

"Your pathetic pigsticker won't save you, idiot noble," the warrior growled, but Grigori could tell that the wound had taken him by surprise. He didn't have time to celebrate, as the mage teleported to his side. Once again acting on instinct, Grigori pivoted and turned away a stab from the shortsword before leaping back on his heels to dodge the dirk stab. Reversing his momentum, Grigori attempted to thrust with his Pact weapon, but it suddenly disappeared from his hand and reappeared in the Traversal mage's hand. Unfortunately for the mage, Grigori countered that by recalling the weapon instantly, once again pressing the attack. The thrust caught the mage unawares, and the pact weapon bit through the mage's shoulder deep enough for the tip to find purchase in bone. Howling, the mage retreated, brandishing his sword gingerly from an openly bleeding arm. Turning on his heel, Grigori instinctively thrust the sword in his off-hand and met steel chestplate, with the longswordsman standing within blade's reach. Instead of attacking with the sword, he kicked Grigori square in the chest, blasting him from his feet and onto his back. Now looming over him, the inquisitor raised his blade to finish the nobleman, but Grigori's foot came up and slammed into the man's genitals, doubling him over. Immediately, Grigori smashed the warrior's skull with the pommel of his pact weapon, knocking him unconscious. Leaping to his feet, he turned toward the wounded mage, finally getting a one on one fight.

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The Traverser wasted no time after his friend was dispatched, flitting in with a flurry of blows designed to throw off Grigori's guard. Blade rung against his Pact weapon, the clang of metal on metal loud and clear in the forest. The wound in the mage's shoulder was preventing him from attacking from a wide angle, and Grigori parried all blows towards the outside. The pain was uncomfortable, Grigori could tell, but would not slow the mage down enough to remove him from the battle. Circling each other, Grigori's eyes aligned with Rava and her fight, and he quickly realized that she had killed the archer.

In his heart, Grigori knew that these men would not allow them to leave, and they were unlikely to surrender themselves to the law of Kalzasi. Even if they did, it was likely they would just be returned to the Imperium and allowed to resume their hunt once again, this time perhaps taking Rava by surprise with no allies. He began this fight hoping to neutralize the inquisitors without killing them, but these men were at war, and as Dalm once told him...

"Only the dead know the end of war," Grigori said out loud, his hushed tone cutting through the rushing winds of sword cleanly. The Traverser heard his words, pausing slightly to look at the nobleman. A fire burned behind Grigori's eyes know, betraying a determination that the mage had yet to see in this fight. With exceptional agility, Grigori exploded into motion, launching a devastating whirlwind of jabs and pokes to drive the mage back and give himself some space.

The Traverser pushed back on his heels, Grigori slashed at the man's chest. The tip of the rapier glanced off the chainmail shirt, but the force of the blow knocked the air from his lungs. Gasping, the mage tried to blink away, but Grigori was faster. He lunged forward, plunging the razor tip of his pact rapier through the chainmail, pressing forward with all his force to penetrate the armor. He felt the slight resistance of the man's abdomen as he pushed, until it gave way and the blade slid cleanly into the mage's belly. A gurgle of blood rushed into his mouth, and as he attempted to speak, dribbled down his chin. Pulling the blade free in one clean pull, Grigori let the man crumble to the ground. He turned to see Rava dodge a thrown stone, and he knew it was time to help her.

Stalking by the inquisitor he knocked unconscious, Grigori casually stabbed the tip of his rapier into the man's throat as he passed, dispatching him without ceremony. Lionel was the true enemy here, the clever one who led them here and assaulted this clinic. Growling as he joined the fray, Grigori entered from the opposite side of Rava. Lionel, however, noticed his entrance immediately, and a wry grin crept over his face.

"Ah, now we're evening the playing field," he said with false bravado. He knew he was outnumbered, and his lieutenants laid dead behind the nobleman, but Lionel appeared unphased. Quickly, the ground beneath Grigori's feet shifted, throwing him into the air and into a tree. Slamming into the wood, Grigori groaned in pain and slid to the ground, holding his ribs. He looked up just in time to roll away from the stone spike that was flying at him, narrowing avoiding having his head impaled to the tree. Pushing himself to his feet, he held his ribs and gripped his pact weapon, watching as he and Rava squared off against the ekementalist.

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