Chapter 32: The Twisted Ones (2/2)
“You know that an expedition through the Deathshield Woods was meant to arrive?”
“Yes.”
“Well, some of the early elements left the woods at dawn after running for the whole night. Reports are confusing, as they are wont to be after a rout. It appears that the expedition left with less soldiers than was wise and they paid the price for it close to their destination. The main body might have been overrun by a beastlings tide, or they are still holding. We are heading out to offer relief immediately, and I would be grateful for your assistance. You will be offered the standard rate for casters.”
“A search and rescue? Count me in. I just need to go grab my stuff.”
“Good. Meet us on the road, at the edge of the forest. Lady Bvarska and Captain Corel will be there as well.”
The two ran back, and were stopped on the way by women who handed them baskets of packed food. They refused payment and pointed at the wood to remind them of the urgency of the situation. It took them only a few minutes to get prepared since they did not have to worry about food. Viv decided that they would leave the sled here. She carried most of their food while Marruk picked up Solfis and the rest. They jogged to their destination.
There was no way to leave Arthur behind. The small dragon had felt the tension in the air, and she had taken off as soon as the door opened. Viv could look up and see the dragonling’s shape before the blue background of Nyil’s sky, keeping a lookout.
They could not have missed the gathering if they had tried. Corel was at the head of it on a warhorse with a small mounted detachment of well-armed guards in scale armor. They were at the head of a column made of a few wagons, mostly empty, and one large barrel-like thing that must have held water. The temple guard took the center of the formation with both Farran and Varska sitting in a fortified carriage loaded with archers. More guards in compact columns formed the back. Those wore leather armors and wielded shields with various weapons. Viv ran to Farren and climbed by his side. Arthur landed a moment later. A few people glanced her way without alarm, the tale of the witch and drake duo being old news by now. After a few minutes, the last stragglers had joined the column and the armed troop marched forward at a good pace.
The light woodlands that Viv trained in, and in which Arthur had become the bane of the local squirrel population, soon became denser and thicker as they penetrated deeper into the Deadshield woods. The local mana took a taste that Viv recognized as ‘brown’ mana. Brown mana was not just brown, it had a green aspect to it and was unique in this regard. It was also Varska’s specialty.
The change in the taste of the world also altered the black mana quantity by increasing it. Viv realized that Kazar was especially poor in black mana, partly because of the ward stones blocking it off. The woods were filled with life and death as well, with many of the taller deciduous still devoid of leaves. Numerous evergreens still provided enough color to block their views.
Ten minutes into their silent ride and Viv was struck with a deep feeling of unease, not exactly oppression but more a feeling of immensity. The Deadshield woods had stopped the black mana saturation for a simple reason. It was alive. I was ancient, and it was, more than anything, impossibly vast. Viv thought that ancient Germanic tribes must have felt the same way when they first delved into the untamed depths of the Schwarzwald, long before it was dotted with settlements.
Few people spoke. Whatever orders fused now and then were muffled by the dense layers of loam, and the infinite rows of gnarly trunks. Animals did their thing hidden in the distance. They could sometimes hear calls, roars, and the piteous cries of things dying to feed bigger ones.
Viv turned to watch Varska as the court mage finished her preparation. She had a short staff by her side the length of a nightstick. It was a delicate work and, just like her, it had been disfigured. Parts of the ornaments have been torched and mangled, leaving the rest functional but no longer whole. She also wore form-fitting armor made of very light mail under a green and brown tabard. Viv had always found the female armors in most fantasy armies retarded, what with all the exposed cleavage as if boobs had their own repelling force fields. She was glad to see that Varska’s armor was sensible enough to go up to her collar. She even had a mail coif, and a cute little hat made of leather and steel. By comparison, Viv was terribly underdressed.
Varska had checked all aspects of her armor, then lit every glyph on her staff one by one. After she was done, she inspected tiny vials she had in pouches and other tools Viv could not identify. Only when she was done did she turn to Viv and addressed her in a low voice.
“That’s your armor, yes? We must absolutely get you a new one.”
“That’s not my main defense though.”
“What is then?”
Viv pointed at the Kark woman by her side. Marruk had applied a strange paste to her face that added black swirls to her red skin. She had the health potions they had left on a bandoleer around her leather armor, except one that Viv had saved for herself. As they stared, Marruk repositioned her ‘shield’ which emitted a loud clang as she let it rest on the wooden boards surrounding them.
“Fair enough,” Vaska admitted, “now, am I right to assume that you have little experience fighting in an army?”
“Not one with magic.”
“Ah yes, you were a soldier. Stick with me and I will direct your efforts, if you allow me. Our first priorities are the large monsters and casters, in that order. If they are allowed to disrupt our formation, the beastling could overrun us. Leave the chaff to the soldiers. They know what to do.”
“What can I expect in terms of large monsters and enemy caster capabilities? The bestiary said the beastlings fought in waves.”
“Correct,” Varska said with a hint of approbation, “they will launch mass charge after mass charge and capitalize on any breach they find. Remember, beastlings always outnumber you. Always.”
“You seem certain that they will still be here.”
Varska’s eyes grow unfocused.
“I remember fighting them before during a cleanup campaign. If the Beastlings are numerous enough to attack a caravan, they will not stop until every person in it is dead and devoured, or until they have been slaughtered. We will meet them, and we will fight them. We must.”
“Alright.”
“Corel is in charge of the operation this time, with Lorn as second in command.”
“Is that the head of the temple guard?”
“Yes. I take it that you two have never met. The temple guards are veteran fighters and they all follow warrior paths. If it looks like we might lose, regroup around them. I assume that you did not have the time to recharge your stone?”
“No, I did not have the opportunity.”
“A shame. No matter. Assist me and the two of us should be able to disable the most dire threats before they endanger our lines. I hope you are ready.”
“Don’t worry, it’s not my first time,” Viv assured the mage, “I can take it…”
There was a small awkward moment when Viv realized that it was definitely an innuendo. Thankfully, language here probably functioned differently so Varska would probably not notice.
Viv looked at the mage.
She had noticed. One of her eyebrows was raised in amused consternation.
“Err, I mean. I have done this before. The action part.”
The second eyebrow joined the first.
She was just making it worse, wasn’t she?
“Do mages also tend to make sex jokes just before battle?”
“Of course, dirty jokes might just be… standard preliminaries.”
Groan.
Wait. Viv was a modern woman, the result of centuries of enlightenment and social progress. She was not going to be outdone by a woman in a goddamn tabard.
“I finally understand why you brought that stick with you.”
“I could give you an in-depth demonstration.”
E...EW!
“I think I have things well in hand.”
“But I know just how to hit the spot.”
How could she be that vulgar with her straight face and aloof noble look and that casual voice?
“What’s this thing called again? I have it on the tip of my tongue.”
“A wand. And I am always happy to help you explore… new venues.”
“Ladies, if you please?” Farren interrupted.
Viv stopped and realized that every archer was looking inward instead of keeping guard. A few looked extremely uncomfortable. One of them was drooling. Marruk had both her hands covering her face and she had turned a beautiful shade of burgundy.
“Perhaps… we could continue our contest later,” Viv finished, unwilling to admit defeat.
Varska nodded gravely, then leaned to the side and whispered in Viv’s ear. The mage’s warm breath tickled her. She still smelled faintly of flowers.
“It would be tragic to leave each other unfinished.”
Ok so maybe it was arrogant and culturally insensitive to assume that Nyil would not have its own snarky perverts. Varska’s dirty mind certainly surprised her. As they moved apart, Viv watched a genuine smile bloom on the mage’s face, the first one to show no brittleness.
It came and went like an eclipse.
“Fine. You win,” Viv confessed with an eye roll. The smile returned.
“I have no idea what you could be referring to.”
“Squee?”
Viv thought that Varska should be ashamed to make sexual overtures in front of the kid. Ah well.
Viv found that her mood had improved, which proved useful in the following hours as they started to find the first bodies.