Birds of a Feather Flock Together - Book One

by anifreakazoid

Summary:

When Perf is killed by Glorion, Wren has a decision to make: save the Wizard and lose her Epic for good or let the quest fall apart and the companions perish alone.
Fortunately Wren doesn't have to handle such a decision alone for long...
After all birds of a feather stick together.

An imagining of what could fill in some of the gaps in information that we have in Seasons 1 through 3, with a heavy emphasis on new original characters as well as the original cast.

Chapter 1: Chapter One - Wren

Chapter by anifreakazoid, ZetaAlgiz

Chapter 1 – Wren

Glorious sunlight shafted through the trees, creating luminous emerald and gold patterns carpeting the forest flood. A stanza or two could be devoted to its beauty, Wren thought, if only one could ignore the deafening shouts of victory.
Ignoring them was the key here though, since she had bigger matters to attend to. Perf was dying. The magic potions she got in the boomtown? Yeah, those weren’t as potent as the potions she’d brought with her as the standard bardic student kit. Perf was lucky to still be breathing at the moment. Yes she had said sod it, and decided to help. Yes she would be kicked out of Bard University, but it would be worth it to save Perf. Only Perf wasn’t cooperating at the moment. Oh, he was alive still, if barely, but he wasn’t moving as he should or waking up or speaking. In fact he wasn’t doing any of the things that made him Perf.

“Wake up Perf, you have to wake up,” Wren whispered to the fluorescent-robed man. She sat there, hoping for a miracle, or at the very least a member of his party or Rilk even – no not Rilk not here – to show up. But no one was there.
Then in the distance Wren heard a distinctive sound. The sound of crunching leaves coming closer and closer, heading towards her at a dead run. Scrambling up she barely had time to fumble for a rock to grip defensively, before an unknown character skidded to a stop beside her.

The stranger was taller than herself but only by about an inch, their body obscured from head to toe by brown leather and blue cloth.

“Wren,” the stranger gasped dropping to their knees and gripping at Wren’s hands. Wren attempted to flinch back, but froze as their seemed to be something familiar about the stranger.
Even craning her neck Wren was unable to distinguish anything under the hood of the cloak. Not even if they have eyes, Wren thought uneasily. Suddenly realizing that the stranger still had her hands and there was something overly familiar about that, Wren straightened intending to give them a piece of her mind then stopped.

The stranger was smoothing their fingers over the palms of Wren’s hands almost frantically, searching for something almost. With a start Wren finally realized that her hands were covered in Perf’s blood still. “It’s not mine.” The hands stilled.

“Are you alright,” a melodic voice asked her. Alto? Wren thought. Definitely not a bass that’s for sure. “Wren,” the voice said more sharply. Wrenched out of her thoughts Wren looked directly at the masked face of the stranger. Huh? Wren thought tilting her head. That tone sounded familiar. “Wren, stop daydreaming and answer me! Are you alright? Whose blood is on your hands?”

“Oh! Uh, I’m alright just worried and it’s Perf’s blood on my hands. He’s –“ Wren cut herself off with a gasp, ripping her hands out of the strangers hands and twisting her body to position herself over Perf’s prone form. “I won’t let you hurt him!” Wren yelled out defiantly. “You won’t touch him Agent of the Wicked Kings!”

Wren got a very volatile reaction but it wasn’t the one she expected with this announcement. “Agent of the – Wren! What the HELL have you been doing! I leave you unwatched for 3 weeks to take on an escort assignment, simple no fuss, and come back to you with blood on your hands laying over your Epic’s protagonist, accusing ME of being an Agent of the Wicked Kings! What the rut did I miss?!”

Wren took a mental step back from the situation. So this hooded, masked figure wasn’t an Agent of the Wicked Kings? Or were they just trying to trick her…

“Unwatched? What do you mean unwatched?” she asked the stranger suspiciously. There was a distinctly awkward silence. Wren got the feeling that whoever this was, was quite embarrassed to have been ‘found out’ so to speak. “Wren,” they began tentatively, but the bard was suddenly struck by the fact that the stranger knew her name. So sue her - she was distracted by other things at the moment.

“How do you know my name?” Wren interrupted warily. “And where I was. If you aren’t an Agent of the Wicked Kings, then who are you.”

“Who- “ the figure suddenly cut themselves off. Taking a deep breath in, so that it was audible even through the thick leather mask on their face, Wren got the distinct impression that whoever was behind that mask was gathering their patience about them like a cloak. With a much more settled air about them the stranger spoke. “First things first: I’m not an Agent of the Wicked Kings. I would sooner die than work for them. And before you say anything Wren I know that’s what someone might say if they wanted to trick you, but you’ll just have to hear me out and make your own decision, okay?”

Wren sat back on her heels, having been forestalled by the strangers upheld hand during the second part of their speech. She nodded begrudgingly her assent.

“Good,” the stranger murmured. Wren could hear a slight smile in their speech. “Now Wren, you are unharmed yes?” Wren nodded. “But Perf was injured, correct?” Another nod from Wren. “May I see him?”

“How can I trust you,” Wren asked outright. “I don’t even know who you are.”

The stranger recoiled as though struck. “I guess I should have seen that coming,” she thought she heard them mutter. Then out loud they asked Wren plaintively, “Do you really not recognize me Songbird?” Wren jumped slightly at the old nickname, then narrowed her eyes at them.

She observed them for a moment. Something was niggling at her about the way they were sitting and the way they tilted their head. Taking into account what she knew – worried about her, knew her name, knew she was writing an epic, followed her without harming her, only a little taller than her, alto melodic voice, tilts her head a lot, would never work for the wicked kings – Wren suddenly froze. Staring very hard at the person she finally spoke.

“Cat?” she asked tentatively.

The tension visibly drained out of the strangers body. A relieved chuckle escaped the masked woman’s mouth. “Hey Wren, long time no see.” Despite Wren being unable to see her face she knew the older woman was smiling. This called for only one reaction.

“Ow!” exclaimed the other woman as Wren punched her in the arm.

“Long time no see?! You disappeared for 8 years Cat! What the rut?!” A pained moan interrupting Wren’s tirade.

Immediately both women were moving, Wren to try and prop Perf up, the other rummaging in her bag. After a moment the woman pulls a small drawstring pouch out of her larger satchel. Wren observes warily as the woman claiming to be Cat pulls out a tiny bean, no longer than her pinky nail, and leans towards Perf with it.

Wren grips her wrist allowing her no further. She cannot help the shocked expression that flits over her face as she feels the restrained strength in that arm. Without a doubt the woman claiming to be Cat could break her arm and force past her to Perf. But she doesn’t.

Instead the woman looks Wren deep in her eyes, her eyes are green Wren thinks faintly recognizing the familiar color, and says solemnly “What songs could a ‘cat’ sing with a ‘wren’?”

Understanding now that the woman is truly who she says she is, Wren takes a deep breath and a leap of faith, and says in reply “Only the most important ones.”

Wren knows Cat is smiling under that mask as she leans forward to feed Perf the bean.

Chapter 2: Chapter 2 - Cat

Chapter by anifreakazoid, ZetaAlgiz

Chapter 2 – Cat

I smile in relief upon hearing Wren’s counter phrase. Thank all that is holy that she finally believed me. I lean forward and feed her wizard the healing bean.

“Chew and swallow,” I absentmindedly admonish him too busy staring at Wren.

Gods it's been too rutting long since I last saw her. She was only 16 and just a sprig of a thing last I saw her. Now she’s all grown up.

Wistfully I reach out a tentative hand, afraid to be rejected again after such a short period of acceptance and am rewarded with Wren reaching out halfway. Our fingers touch and a feeling of peace that I have not felt in 8 years fills me. The only thing that could make this more perfect is if Starling were here.

My thoughts are interrupted by the sounds of a boisterous voice moving towards the clearing in which we are sitting. I shift on my feet, ready to jump to Wren and the wizard’s defense at a moments notice.

Into the clearing blunders a knight.

I narrow my eyes.

This is no ordinary knight but a known revenant knight, a blood knight, who cares for nothing but bloodshed. His deeds are notorious for their cruelty. A known sociopath who cares for nothing but war and death. And he is in the same clearing as Wren.

I subtly grip my broadsword tighter.

“What ho maiden, you have a friend with you now!” the revenant cries out joyfully.

I shift ready to pounce should he threaten us. I hear Wren behind me - she always was good with words – the fond thought drifts through my mind as she speaks.

“Glorion you got what you wanted.”

What he wanted? I look at her out of the corner of my eye. Could she mean the sword?

“So go ahead and leave us in peace.”

I watch the knight carefully, knowing from observation and rumor that this is not likely to end well.

“Yes, I have the sword, but I cannot in good conscience leave any left alive who witnessed this battle. My honor demands it!” the blood knight cries out.

I cast a quick glance back at Wren, sitting protectively next to the wizard, who was now breathing steadily with a more restful look on his face - bless her, and determine that no matter what Wren and the wizard will live.
Standing up fully I draw Protector and step forward blocking the revenants path towards the non-combatants in the clearing.

“Prepare yourself foul warrior, for today you meet your doom.” I always hate such pretentious pre-battle talk, but it always does work on these types.
And sure enough he redirects his focus towards me, foregoing all interest in Wren and the wizard. As it should be.

“I shall have you know stranger, that I shall show you no mercy but instead strike you down honorably,” the blood knight cries out.

I ignore him in favor of observing his footwork and form as I pace around him, subtly shifting him away from Wren.

His footwork is good, though he seems to favor his left foot, a possible weakness. His form looks more suited to bloody destruction rather than finesse, keeping with what I’ve heard about him. His lips move, he is speaking again, but I do not hear him the battle calm washing over me. The sword he carries is new, he is unused to it still, the hilt does not sit centered in his palm but gripped more towards the top.

He steps forward swinging in a deadly arc in my direction. I step into the swing and allow my blade to slide up his. A slight grin stretches my lips underneath my mask.

Anyone who threatens Wren in my presence deserves what they get.

Ducking underneath his swing I grab my belt dagger with the left hand and jab it in his direction.

Feeling it glance off his surcoat I realize that, while ugly as a hag’s hairy backside and unkempt as a dockside whore’s beard, the armor beneath is still tough enough to deflect my blows.
Like a trolls hide. Ugly as sin but just as tough to break.

Spinning out and keeping his arms occupied with Protector I attempt a side swipe at his face, forcing him to disengage or be cut.

He disengages. Predictable sod.

He then runs at me like a bull, using his shoulder to knock me off balance. Predictable and stupid, but strong I amend in my head. I turn the fall into a roll, neatly avoiding his sword on the way down.

In the back of my mind I’m aware of an annoyance, a sort of buzzing of talk, like that you would hear in a crowded village market, but there is nothing that could be making that sound so I ignore it.

Using my down time to my advantage, I spin my legs catching the knight about the knees. As intended he falls down like a sack of potatoes.
Unintended he turns and attempts to impale me on the way down. Not one to take any available advantage I wait till the last possible second then roll out of the path of the blade.

That might have been too close, I think, as I hear a Wren like screech in the background and see a few dark blue threads caught between the blade and the ground.
But the bastard’s sword is now stuck deep into the ground. A kick to the face sends the knight sprawling across the clearing.

I go in for a killing blow, when suddenly it is blocked by the blade once more back in his hand.

I pull back confused.

I look back at where the sword had been, but only a hole in the ground remains. What the hell?

I suddenly become aware of that sound again and decide maybe I really should tune back in and give a listen to what is happening.

“Oh yeah baby! Fight! Stab, Stab, Stab, Stab! Kill them!”

Shocked, I stare at what is unmistakably a talking sword that the revenant holds in his hands.

“Wren,” I say without looking back at her.

“Yes?” I hear her reply with obvious worry in her voice.

Warmth fills my chest and an overwhelming wave of fondness fills me. Wren’s worried about me, of course she is. Well best not give her any true cause to.

“Is that the sword of fighting?” I ask calmly wondering how on earth I’m supposed to beat it if that’s the case.

“Yes it is, that’s what I’ve been trying to tell you. He killed Perf right before you showed up in order to get the sword.”

“How is Perf,” I query, stalling for time as I frantically try to come up with a plan on how to beat a legendary arcane sword.
It’s working, the stalling that is, for whatever reason as the revenant seems to be taking a moment to catch his breath.

I don’t allow a smirk to cross my face as much as I want to – oh well a little smirk anyway.

“Perf is fine,” a new male voice says.

Without looking I know it is the wizard, recovered from my magic bean. I know this because the revenant immediately straightens and looks astonished in the general direction of where the orange robed man had lain.

“But I vanquished you.” For the first time since his entrance the revenant knight speaks without confidence, almost sounding confused.

Taking this opportunity I lunge forward and lock blades with him.

“Wren, quickly,” I shout, “tell me all that you know about the sword of fighting.”

Without waiting for her to begin, I quickly begin a strike-parry-lunge-twist combo attack, hoping to keep him on the defensive as long as possible.

“Um, um, the sword cannot be given away or or dropped. Nor can it be separated from him it just returns back to its wielder.”

“I didn’t notice,” I grit out having gotten pinned to a tree after my last lunge resulted in the knight turning with me and leaning all his weight onto his blade causing it to screech against mine.

I ignore the swords running commentary, particularly it’s comments about my personal appearance. Wanting a little more distance between us, I use my legs to brace against the tree and shove with all my strength.

I quickly whip my cloak off, leaving the hood still wrapped around my head, and throw it in his face.

Trapped the knight trips and falls, landing flat on the sword if it’s complaints are to be believed.

Using the distraction I speed across the clearing to my satchel which lays next to Wren and the wizard. The wizard, now sitting up with Wren’s help, looks much better now (i.e. not dead) although very confused.

Quickly searching through my satchel for my potions bag I remind Wren, “Anything else I should know?”

“Uh,” Wren says obviously panicking at this point.

“Hurry,” I state as calmly as possible while keeping an eye on the irate knight finally managing to wriggle out of my cloak.

Feeling the textured grip of the bottle I’m looking for I yank it out of the bag just as Wren says in a rush “Idon’tknowonlythatPerfwasthechosenonebut-thenGloriankilledhimwhentheswordturnedagainsthim –“

“The sword turned against him,” I question used to such outbursts from Wren.

“Oh yeah it did,” the wizard mutters bitterly to himself. Hmmm.

The sword’s sentience could be beneficial later on.

In the meantime.

Turning without a pause I throw the contents of the container down at my feet, just as the knight finally reaches me in his rage. Fool.

The potion immediately affects how my form appears to others. I waver and appear unsubstantial, even disappearing from time to time.

See-me-not is a very useful variant of the typical invisibility potion, I think as I trip the revenant with my sword. I only have about 2 minutes before the potion wears off.

I regret now not making larger dosage bottles, but I wanted to be able to use it more frequently as opposed to longer.

I use those 2 minutes as best as I can, but despite the wielder not being able to see me, the sword seems to sense my intent. It manages to parry every blow, with only a few making it past his guard without even a scratch to show for it.

Well at least he will have a few bruises in the morning is my last sour thought, before my world erupts in pain.

Stifling a scream I go down hard, barely managing to roll back to my feet rather than slamming to the ground as my body begged me to do. Switching Protector to my left hand I slowly flex my right. Sod it all. Somehow the bastard managed to dislocate my shoulder. My 2 minutes were obviously up.

I watched warily as the knight began strolling casually towards me, seeming to think that the fight was over.

Little did he know.

Not waiting for him to reach me I somersault forward, pulling one of my dual blades from my back as I go. I go to swing Protector, using it to hold back the arcane blade while reaching up up up with Vengeance to slit his throat and –

I stifle another pained cry as my back hits the ground. His knee had come up slamming into my masked chin and knocking me back to the ground. The sharp pain of my jaw snapping up combined with the pain of my dislocated shoulder hitting the ground makes me momentarily disoriented.

Then everything seems to happen at once.

Wren is standing in front of me crying out “Bardic Immunity”, I am reaching up to pull her out of the way and roll us to safety, the bastard is moving forward the sword of fighting poised to strike Wren through the heart, I hear the wizard shouting in the background-

Then there is an Ork man there taking the blade that had been aimed at Wren and suddenly there is silence.

Time seems to freeze for a moment. Then the Ork man attempts to grab the sword that hangs at his belt at the same time the knight kicks him in the chest freeing the blade.

The Ork falls, but Wren catches him crying out “Rilk” as she does so. Every part of me seems to seize up and freeze.

I know.

I know.

I know what he means to her.

And watching him attempt to wipe away the tears that are now pouring down Wren’s face I know what she means to him as well. After all he was willing to die for her.

And I know what to do.

Springing into action I cry out “Perf, magic beans, drawstring bag by my satchel, feed him one, make sure he chews and swallows it.”

Without waiting for an answer, I take a boot dagger and throw it at the blood knight. The sword of fighting automatically comes up to block it, but I expected that. But it gives me the distraction I needed.

Rolling across the clearing I manage to come up behind him before he’s even turned a quarter of the way he needed. Before he can fully turn a raven swoops down on him, dropping a rock on the blade of the sword, which automatically bats it away.
“Asswipe,” the bird calls rudely down at him, but before he can retort I am behind him.

With one hand I grip his chainmail cowl and rip it back, with the other I draw Justice across his throat.
With a gurgle he attempts to turn, the arcane blade automatically reaching for me, but his strength is already waning and it is nothing at all to block the sword with no power behind it.

It is finished.

And as the revenant knights body hits the ground, the sword of fighting falls with a clang beside him.

Notes:

So, fun fact. While writing this entire series I had a playlist I was listening to near constantly. If anyone is interested in seeing my playlist for the chapters/scenes to augment their reading please, please let me know.

anifreakazoid

Chapter 3: Chapter 3 - Cat

Chapter by anifreakazoid, ZetaAlgiz

Summary:

An introduction and a - rudimentary - plan

Chapter 3 – Cat

Barely a breath has passed since the dead knights body has hit the ground, but already I’m on the move.

Ignoring the pain in my chin and shoulder I crouch down beside Wren and the Ork, leveraging him into a seated position.
The wizard is already on his way over, stumbling slightly in his haste. In his outstretched hands is my bag of healing beans.

With a quick nod of thanks I retrieve a bean from within the bag.

Doing my best to ignore Wren’s quiet sobs as she holds the Ork, I lean forward and place the bean to his lips. He looks like he is about to refuse so I lean forward and speak to him in my most cajoling tone [Now then we wouldn’t want Wren to cry more now would we?] His eyes widen [You speak Orkish?] he gasps out. [Yes, but you won’t be able to for very much longer if you don’t eat this healing bean.]

He then opens his mouth obediently for me as I quietly direct him to chew and swallow. He does so then falls back with a quiet sigh.
Looking at Wren he smiles and reaches up to touch her face before he whispers her name.
Then his eyes slide gently closed. Wren begins to weep again, although I now suspect they were happy tears.

After checking on the Ork, everything seems to be fine, I clap Wren on the shoulder and say as cheerfully as I can “Well that was nauseatingly adorable.”

Using my leverage on her shoulder I push myself to my feet, unable to hide my wince as the motion jolts my still dislocated arm.

I absentmindedly pop it back into place, quite familiar with the pain associated with it, and turn assessing the clearing.

Wren is cradling the Ork, propping him up with her body, but the healing bean is obviously taking effect as he no longer appears in pain and the gaping wound in the center of his chest is rapidly closing.
Wren herself seems overwrought emotionally but uninjured. The wizard, Perf I believe, is once more sitting – this time next to Wren – and appears confused and exhausted but otherwise fine.
That would make sense considering I didn’t get a healing bean to him as fast as I did to the Ork. Finally I turn towards the knight.

He is lying flat on his stomach his arms splayed at odd angles.

He is very much dead, considering the pool of blood rapidly spreading from his neck and torso region.

The sword lays still and silent next to him.

I cautiously walk over to it, then nudge it sharply once with my toe.

Nothing.

I stare at it for a moment, then decide not to touch it without further information.

Using my toe, I tug it away from its former wielders prone body, then leave it lying there.

As I turn, intending to further assist Wren and determine the full story of what occurred here prior to my arrival, I hear a sudden gasp. I turn, dagger ready to throw, and see a…”Gargoyle?” I question out loud.

“No I’m not,” the creature states while obviously lying.

I observe it.

It appears to be gleefully watching the dead body of the knight.

“Were you a friend of his?” I question carefully.

“The best friend he could ever ask for,” it replies with a euphoric expression on its face.

I examine it carefully when suddenly I realize, “You have a curse laid on you so that you must always lie.”

“No I don’t” comes the automatic reply that I ignore.

“What time is it,” I ask, just to confirm my theory.

“Sunset,” the gargoyle states as the early morning sunlight shines down on us.

“Thank you and just one more question,” I tell it.

Retrieving my broadsword, Protector, and my dual swords Justice and Vengeance, I ask it “Do you mean any harm to me or any of my companions?”

“Oh yeah, I’m going to kill you all, I hate your guts.”

“Thank you for your time you are free to go then,” I tell it correctly interpreting it’s curses inversion of the truth.

It nods its head at me then leaves with one parting comment “I’m so sad he is dead right now!”

As he says this I hear a yelp in the direction he is heading.

Peering past the underbrush I seeing a black feathered cap dipping back out of sight.

“A black cap,” I mutter to myself as I continue systematically cleaning off and returning my blades to their proper place.

Just as I return the last dagger to its sheath I realize where I recognize that type of cap from. “Bard,” I say out loud.

Wren looks up questioningly at me as does the wizard – Perf, his name is Perf.

Walking over to them, and picking my now dusty cloak off the ground as I go, I ask Wren casually, “Do you know of any reason why another bard is following you?”

As her face pales then reddens dramatically I mutter out loud “I’ll take that as a yes.”

What quickly occurs is one of Wren’s famous tirades, with tons of creative swearing and plenty of enthusiasm.

I love every minute of it.

It’s been so long since I’ve seen one of these I think wistfully to myself. After she finally calms down, and Perf no longer looks shell shocked, I amusedly ask “The short version please?”

Wren looks embarrassed for a moment and opens her mouth, when a low groan is heard from the Ork man.
Realizing that we are still in the middle of a clearing with a dead body, with two recently injured people laying or sitting on the hard ground, I decide to speed things up.

“Okay, Wren, short version from you and you,” I say sitting cross legged on the ground and pointing to Perf who looks surprised that I am addressing him at all, “then lets get all of you back to that boomtown I passed on my way here. There should be an inn where we can stay for a bit to recuperate.”

“Who are you?” the wizard finally bursts out.

“I mean I’m grateful you saved us from Glorion but I have absolutely no idea what is going on right now.”

“My name is Catriona, Cat to my friends and family – you can call me Cat, and I am here for Wren’s protection. Why that is, well that’s up to Wren to tell you,” I say with a grin turning to look at Wren.

“Well I’m a bard,” says Wren.

“A bard! I always wanted to be a bard!” the wizard excitedly exclaims.

I clear my throat gently when it seems he would go on. He visibly restrains himself.
I chuckle under my breath and nod to Wren who continues. “And I was assigned to follow a quest to write down their story as an epic.”

“Who were you –“ Perf begins to interrupt, before I lean over and gently cover his mouth with my hand.

“Short version now, long version, and questions, later,” I kindly admonish him. When he nods his agreement I remove my hand.

“Well I was assigned to your…quest…” Wren slowly states.

“My quest –“ Perf begins to exclaim before seeing my raised eyebrow and covering his mouth.

How droll he is, I think, letting an unseen smile spread across my face.

Continuing with a nod, Wren says, “Yes, your quest. I’ve been staying out of sight for the last year, it’s one of the bardic tenants you see, but when you pulled the sword well. It became big news. And my headmistress, well that – that – Harpy! She didn’t want me to be the bard on this epic. So she sent Silver Tom – “

“Silver Tom is recording this epic!”

Seeing Perf’s dramatic eyes and hands clapped over his mouth, I can’t help it, I start to laugh.

Reaching over I pat Perf on his shoulder. I frown internally when he seems to flinch away, but relaxes once he realizes I’m not trying to hurt him. \

Saving that tidbit for later, I tell him “Don’t worry I don’t begrudge you your enthusiasm or curiosity. I only wish to get you and the Ork to a place you can safely rest as soon as possible.”
I think he can hear the smile in my voice for he relaxes further and even attempts to send me a tentative smile.

Wren continues with a tight smile of her own.

“Silver Tom is recording your epic now,” she states shortly. “He took my notes and my badge. That parts a lot longer to explain,” Wren directs at me while sending me a look, “but the shorter version is that I found out that someone was going to try and kill you Perf and I vowed I wouldn’t let that happen as long as I could do something. That goes against bardic law, interfering that is, so I guess I’m not a bard anymore.” Wren trails of at the end suddenly looking lost.

Hating that look on her face and knowing I can’t do anything to fix it at the moment I place a comforting hand on her shoulder. Then I ask the question I’ve been dying to since the battle ended. “So. Who’s the Ork?”

Wren’s blush tells me enough and I let out a quiet chuckle.

“His name is Rilk,” she begins a light blush still dusting her cheeks. “And why he’s here is part of the long version of the story. But he’s a friend!” She finishes emphatically.

“A friend, huh?” I tease her lightly already sensing the true nature of their relationship.
She nods firmly, a blush beginning to start again at my knowing tone.

Deciding to leave off on her for now, I ask Perf “So does that answer your questions about who we are for now?”

“I mean kinda yes,” Perf says with an unsure tone to his voice. “I mean not really, but I guess it’s good for now. I mean you did after all save me and stop Glorion.”

“Speaking of Glorion,” Wren says, “what should we do with him?”

“Leave him,” Perf says suddenly vehement.

I raise an eyebrow as I say, “No, we will bury him off to the side of the road and raise a cairn so that animals won’t eat him.”

“What, why?!” Perf asks, his confusion obvious.

“Because no one deserves to be left like that,” I state and say no more.

Changing the subject I ask them both, “So where is the rest of your party? Wasn’t there an elf and a pri- a cleric with you?” I curse the slip up but am thankful that neither of them seems to notice.

“I left Nara last night. I don’t know where she is now,” Perf says, a dejected note in his voice. “Carrow ran away yesterday.” My heart stops. “I haven’t seen him since.”

Licking my lips in an attempt to get moisture into my suddenly dry throat I say in a tone much lighter than I am actually feeling, “Well we had best find them then.”
Perf and Wren nod in agreement, but as Perf goes to stand he nearly falls almost knocking Wren down onto the prone Ork.

Quickly reaching out to steady them, I notice a slight tremor to my hands.

I consciously steady them, taking deep breaths as I carefully help Perf straighten with Wren’s help.

“Well,” I say in a tone much more cheerful than I feel, “it seems like the best idea might be to get us some assistance, hmm? We aren’t too far from that town, so I will see if we can get some help.”

Clenching my fists and deliberately silencing my thoughts. Practical matters before personal problems I remind myself angrily.
Drawing in a deep breath I call out “RAKE! Get down here you insufferable creature! I saw you before so I know you are here, there is no use hiding!”

A slight pause and then the flapping of wings can be heard, before a raven, slightly larger than usual flaps down to alight upon a nearby fallen log.

“You called,” he says in a nonchalant yet still insolent tone.

“Yes I did, you terrible thing. Although I must thank you for your assistance a few minutes ago,” I remind him with a mixture of exasperation and fondness.
He preens and says in a highly pretentious tone “Pray don’t mention it.” Knowing that he will now mention it for some time, I ignore his games and cut right to the chase.

“Rake I have a favor to ask of you.” The raven lifts his head and turns it towards me.

“Rake I need you to fly to that boomtown and go to the inn that is there. See if you can get a few people to come help us. Tell them we have some injured adventurers and a dead revenant knight on our hands.”

“What’s in it for me?” Rake asks. I hear a gasp from Wren’s direction but I am not surprised. Rake likes to keep up appearances after all.

“Three ounces of maple sugar candy,” I tell him knowing his love for the sweet treat.

I can see him salivating at the thought, both his pride and his love of games of pretend satisfied with this arrangement.

“Done,” he says after making a show of thinking it over.

Then in a moment of sentimentality he alights on my shoulder and runs his beak through the cloth of my hood as though preening me. He says much quieter than normal, “I’m glad you are okay humie.” Then with a flick of his tail away he flies.

Chapter 4: Chapter 4 - Cat

Chapter by anifreakazoid, ZetaAlgiz

Summary:

Talking Swords and Come on's, how fun...

Chapter 4 – Cat

As soon as Rake is out of sight, both Wren and Perf turn to me with questions in their eyes, but I forestall them with a hand.

“Remember our goal is to get back to the town for safety purposes. Then we can talk further. I may even answer more of your questions,” I tease them both.

They both grumble half-heartedly but I can see more and more tension easing from their shoulders.

Good, I smile slightly, my plan to put them at ease is working.

Leaning down I pick up my previously abandoned satchel. Digging through it I find the packet I am looking for.

Walking towards Wren and Perf I unwrap it revealing several smaller packets.
From within the largest of these I withdraw three green talismans, shaped like a neverending figure eight. Both stare at them in surprise.

Smiling I lean down and place one of the talismans around the Ork’s – Rilk I remind myself – neck.
Then I hold out the remaining two.

“What are those?” Wren asks.

Perf takes her surprise for confusion at what they are, but I know the true reason for the surprise.

“They are protective talismans,” I simply state not wanting to go into their full purpose and ability range.

Seeing Wren beginning to open her mouth, seeing the questions in her eyes, I quietly shake my head.

She frowns but subsides. I hand Perf a talisman then go up to Wren.

Placing the talisman around her neck I tell her quietly “Yes this is a new skill I have, I know Wren. But I promise we will talk more once you – we are safe.”

She stares at me a moment, then tells me “You are different.”

“So are you,” I tell her with a smile.

“We’ve both grown up a lot in eight years.”

She nods her head then turns away as the Ork begins to stir.

I bite my tongue to stop myself from saying more just then.

We decide – more like I decide and Wren and Perf don’t object – that I shall go looking for the remaining two members of the party, while Perf and Wren take the Ork – Rilk I really must remember that – to wait a little ways down the path, closer to the town.
No one says it, but we all mentally agree that it would be best not to be found sitting next to Glorion’s corpse.

The only thing none of us can agree upon is what to do with the Sword of Fighting.

None of us want it – Perf especially – but we all know better than to just leave it lying there.
Finally I decide that the best thing to do is get some information first.

“Perf, is it?” After the wizard nods his head in acknowledgement I continue. “Perf you said earlier that the sword betrayed you, correct?”

“Yes,” he states glaring bitterly at the blade lying in the dirt.

“So it is sentient then?” I ask wanting to clarify before any more decisions are made.

“To a degree,” he says while still glaring at the sword.

“Right, then.” And with that I stand up and walk purposefully towards where the sword still lies next to the fallen knight.

Feeling silly but unsure what else to do I tap it lightly again with my toe.

“Sword?” I say, speaking much more confidently than I am currently feeling.

“Sword can you hear me?” A few seconds pass before I hear what could only be described as an exasperated sigh.

“What?” I hear the sword ask.

“What should I call you?” I ask it, attempting to start off at least politely before moving into the threats.

“What?” it asks sounding confused.

“Do you have a name you prefer to be called?” I ask again, wondering what was so confusing about the question.

“No one has ever asked me that before,” I hear it mutter. A moment passes before it says with a little less ire “Just call me Fight.”

I hear a snort from the direction of Perf but ignore it. “Thank you Fight for the introduction.”

“Sure,” I hear it mutter before I continue on. “I am Catriona, also called Cat. I am sorry that we are meeting under such circumstances but –“

Here I am interrupted by the sword called Fight.

“Wait. You are a woman?”

“Yes, I am. My name is Cat –“

“So that crazy knight was beaten by a female?”

“Yes, that’s what being a woman means-“ upon which an insane amount of laughter erupts from the sword.

I wait for a full two minutes before I finally interject. “Fight. I wanted to ask you a question.”

“Go ahead lady,” the sword says still chuckling.

“What happens now? Who is your wielder?” There is a moment of silence then.

“Well technically it could be that limp wristed ‘Chosen One’ whose hands smell like lavender.”

“Hey!”

“Or it could be the one who defeated the one who held me last, which would be –“

“Me,” I finished.

“So what does being a wielder entail exactly?”

“Oh you know the usual, carrying the sword with honor, fulfilling the destiny foretold to it, giving me good fights, the usual.”

“So what exactly is the destiny foretold about you Fight?”

“Well. I’m supposed to be able to end the reign of the Wicked Kings and spark a revolution that will change the world.”

There is an audible pause in the clearing.

“Come again?” I ask not wanting to believe my ears.

“You hard of hearing sweet cheeks? Cause what I said was –“

“I know what you said, I just didn’t believe it at first. Also the name is Cat, not sweet cheeks, so unless you want me to call you Annoyance instead of Fight I suggest you use my name.”

“Touché. I like a woman who can give and take. Rawr.”

I ignore his commentary and turn to Wren.

“Why didn’t you tell me that the sword in your epic was attached to a prophecy about defeating the wicked kings?”

“Well in my defense I didn’t know you were around, which I am still unhappy about by the way and intend to express that unhappiness at great length at a later time.”

I grimace beneath my mask, but nod my head in agreement. She is correct after all.

“So whoever wields you is part of the destiny to defeat the Wicked Kings?” I clarify one last time to Fight.

“Yes. So you in or what doll?” I give the sword a look, then wonder whether it can even see that.

Obviously it can though, since it quickly backtracks. “Sorry, sorry, Cat. You gonna wield me or what Cat? Or am I stuck with lavender palms over there?”

“Hey! I don’t like you either you know!”

With a put upon sigh I pick up Fight. “Well. I guess we are stuck together then Fight.”

“Woohoo! I get to be with a sexy scary fighting lady! Sweet!”

With a few nods and encouraging statements I manage to see Perf and Wren off. They are walking slowly supporting Rilk between them.

I wait until they are out of sight then turn back to the Sword of Fighting, called Fight.

“Now Fight.”

“Yes, oh sexy wielder of mine.”

“Let's make a few things perfectly clear…”

And with that I draw the sword out of its sheath and face it head on, completely serious with not a smile in sight.

“If you ever try to betray myself or anyone I care about like you betrayed Perf, I will curse you so badly that you will wish that I had melted you into slag. Attempt to hurt or work against me or someone I care about? I will curse you so you can no longer speak. And if you succeed in harming myself or someone I care about? I will melt you into slag. I can use a slagged bit of metal to destroy the Wicked Kings just as well as a nice and shiny talking sword. Capisce?”

There is a long pause then “Can swords have boners? Cause I have one right now?”

Without hesitation I shift the sword to throw it, knowing it will return to my hand.

“Okay, okay! Capisce!” I nod my head then re-sheath the sword, but not before hearing one final rejoinder.

“Sexy.”

With that last line echoing in my ears, I secure the sword Fight to my belt and set off to find the remaining members of Wren’s epic. Hopefully I’ll find them without getting into too much trouble. Hopefully.

Chapter 5: Chapter 5 - Carrow

Chapter by anifreakazoid, ZetaAlgiz

Chapter 5 – Carrow

I knew that it was mistake to trust that woman.

I knew that she had corrupted me, changed me in some way, the moment my shoulder hit the tree.

The sudden stop in motion jolted me out of my trance or whatever it was she put me in.

I had used a blasphemous iconography against a member of my own party.

Against Nara.

Never in my right mind would I have done such a thing, particularly without knowing the results ahead of time.

I don’t even know if she’s alive or not. I don’t know what that iconography would do to someone.

Yes I was angry at her, yes I blamed her vanity and selfishness for costing me the answer to my question costing me the knowledge of how to leave this form, but not enough to kill her. At least I don’t think so.

Everything has been different since I…well, died. I’m not a monster. I’m not. I’m still a priest of Vieris but I….

Growling to myself I try and flip myself onto my back. No good, I think as I flop back onto the ground. I can leverage myself up on my elbows and try and drag myself, but then the incline of the hill on which I am stuck defeats me.

I can’t even call for help. That assassin might come back or someone else who might end my existence. Would that be such a bad thing though?

I wish I’d stayed dead. Bitter thoughts consume me and mysterious feeling creeps on me. Is this…hatred?

I feel it growing and growing, for that woman, for Nara, for Perf – especially for Perf, for Glorion who got us into this whole quest in the first place, for the priests of Vieris who denied me, for Vieris –

“Stop it!” I roar in an attempt to quiet my own self. Desperately I begin muttering every prayer I can think of.

An undeterminable amount of time later I realize that something has changed.

I pause in the midst of a prayer for peace and listen. The animal noises, which had started up shortly after my outburst, have ceased.

I hear a distant sound as of crunching leaves. It’s coming from the top of the embankment where Nara lays. I crane my neck to try and see, but quickly fall back to the ground as my balance is off.

Stifling a growl at my own helplessness I pay careful attention to my other senses.

Vibrations traveling through the ground – means something heavy is moving. Leaves rustle. Something drags on the ground. Then a very human sounding whoosh of air.

The ire in me rises again, it must be the assassin, come to collect her bounty for our bodies.

All is still for a moment, then the crunching of leaves begins to travel down the embankment towards me before suddenly stopping.

I freeze, despite already being still, but the sudden tension that fills the air is palpable.

I swear I hear an in-drawn breath.

Much more slowly the sound of the person’s movement creeps closer to me, almost cautiously.

They still next to my torso. I seem to hear a slow exhale of breath, almost a sigh, but that can’t be right.

I tense myself, ready to put up a fight even as helpless as I am. Then I feel the toe of a boot gently leveraging under my ribs, then suddenly I’m over on my back.

Once my back hits the ground I am growling and snarling, baring my teeth like the monster the world thinks I am.

“Really,” a melodic voice queries sounding mildly annoyed.

“I would have thought that a Priest of Vieris would know better than to make deals with the Pale Lady.” Surprised I stop, blinking upwards to the shadowy figure standing over me.

As my eyes adjust I am better able to see the figure standing over me.

From the lightness of the voice I would guess the stranger is a woman, although their clothing gives none of that away.

Plain leather boots, trousers, an over tunic or robe of some kind, and a thick leather surcoat over that, a typical adventurers outfit. Practical yet not offensive to the eyes. The clothing doesn’t particularly show off anything of the strangers shape, but my instincts still tell me that the stranger is a woman.

Squinting my eyes I manage to make out a dark blue hood and a thick leather mask covering the stranger’s face. Only their eyes are visible and one quirked eyebrow goes to show exactly their feelings about my display.

I swallow slightly embarrassed, but unsure why I feel so.

They continue speaking upon seeing me quiet. “Seems like you’ve gotten yourself into a mess, Priest,” they nod in a general way, obviously referring to my bisected body. “Can I help you out or are you going to try and bite my hands off?”

I swallow again, the strangers tone making me feel off put for some reason. “You aren’t the assassin,” I dumbly comment, then mentally kick myself for such an obvious observation.

“Brilliant deduction, Priest,” the woman says the sarcasm biting and I barely restrain a wince.

“An assassin would have left you to rot,” she continues, “rather than coming to look for you to carry you to safety, along with all of your friends.”

“My friends,” I repeat latching onto the last part of her statement. The fact that she was looking for me is something to explore later as well. Why would she do that?

“Yes your friends,” she repeats now crouching down beside me and appearing to examine my torso for damages.
“The elf maiden, who has the death veil upon her and don’t think I won’t question you about that later Priest, and the wizard who is currently in a clearing a bit of a distance away with my – with Wren.”

I catch the slip, but before I can ask who this ‘Wren’ is and what their relation is to the stranger, they continue with a statement that causes my mouth to drop open. “You knight companion is unfortunately dead.”

Glorion dead? How? I thought after 4 years with him that nothing was able to ever stop him.

“Wha –“ I begin, trying to put into words the many many questions now floating through my head but before I can even put one into being the stranger stands up once more, apparently satisfied with her examination, and tells me “But come, enough talk. We’d best get back to them Priest.”

I growl fed up with her referring to me as Priest.

It wouldn’t bother me so much if it weren’t so clear that I am no longer anything like a Priest.

“Why are you calling me Priest,” I demand of her.

“It is your profession is it not? Your life’s work, your calling?” she says in a light hearted manner, although I detect a slightly sharp note underneath.

“I have a name,” I tell her through gritted teeth.

“I’m sure you do,” she says a patronizing tone to her voice. I grind my teeth.

“However, referring to your title – Priest – is what I’m going to continue to do. Understood?”

“Then should I refer to you as Warrior rather than your name?” I bite out, having assumed from the amount of visible weaponry on her body that the woman is a fighter of some kind.

“If that is what pleases you Priest, then so be it,” she says mockingly. I growl at her, then suddenly notice that the entire time that we’ve been speaking the stranger has been moving rocks and other debris, creating a clear path up the embankment.

“Now, now,” and I truly hear a note of laughter in her voice this time, “it’s not nice to growl at your rescuer.” I bite back the impulse to say something cuttingly sarcastic to the woman, because I suddenly realize that she is correct.

Despite my misgivings about her motivations and despite not knowing who this woman is, she is obviously intending to help me in some way. Although I am now unsure where I stand with Vieris I still was raised with his teachings, which encourage acts of compassion and love, with gratitude towards those that help you expressed by those that receive such help. And despite – or rather in spite of – her sarcasm and mockery of me she is still acting towards my benefit.

But I can’t remove the sting of her comments, I can’t forget them, so it is very begrudgingly that I agree with her. “Fine,” I mutter, determinedly not looking at her.

“Excellent!” I hear her excitedly exclaim.

Surprised at the cheer I hear in her voice I look back at her, seeing from her expressive eyes that she is smiling.

“Arms please,” she then says reaching out expectantly with her own.

“What?” I question confused by the sudden change in demeanor.

“Your arms,” she repeats a patient and kindly tone now in her voice. “I need them so I can carry you. Unless you’d prefer for me to drag you by your hair,” the last part is said with a definite teasing note.

I sigh, unable to keep up with this stranger’s changing moods, but obligingly raise my arms into the air.

“Thank you,” is the pert reply, but before I can make a sarcastic comment my arms are gripped by strong but gentle hands. Without any seeming effort the woman hoists me into the air, then hooks her arms under my armpits.

I’m relieved that she isn’t going to carry me dangling by my arms, not that they feel anything, but am strangely distracted by an odd feeling through the cloth of my robe.
I can’t identify it, it is an odd sensation, like a feeling but yet not. I haven’t felt anything in a long time it seems, I realize, once more reminded of my state.

The stranger feels me tense and mistakes it for discomfort if her next comment is any indicator.

“Sorry about this Priest but I didn’t want to leave you lying there. Can’t have been comfortable! Only a little farther though.” This is all said in a breathless manner and I suddenly realize that despite the strength of her arms, that I am probably quite heavy for her. She shows no signs of stopping though, smoothly and carefully making her way up the embankment.

There is a slight pause in her steps as she passes the abandoned iconography, but the stranger remains silent. Reaching the top of the embankment I realize what those heavy vibrations from before must have been.

A long fallen tree limb, still covered in branches and leaves, lies on the embankment like a makeshift stretcher.
Upon it lies Nara, still and pale, her eyes open and her chest only barely rising and falling.

Something in me clenches. I think it is my heart. I close my eyes and grit my teeth.

Without a word the stranger sets me gently down. When my back hits the ground my eyes flash open in surprise.

I turn my head and see the back of the stranger heading back down the embankment. By shifting my head I realize I’m lying on a cloth of some kind next to the stretcher. I tilt my head and can see Nara.

I watch her until I have to look away, a feeling like acid bubbling in my chest.

The stranger comes into view, something wrapped in dark cloth in her hands.

Giving me an indecipherable look she places the object next to me, and then leaves in the direction of my legs.

A moment passes, then I hear grunting and then “Priest! Call your rutting legs off! They are going to kick themselves into a rutting tree.”

Unsure how to stop them, as they aren’t exactly attached to me at the moment, I call out, “Be Still! She means you no harm!”

A moment passes. Then the woman comes back into view a very amused look on her face.

“Be Still,” she asks a laugh apparent in her voice. “Is that how you calm all your misplaced body parts?” she asks sarcastically. I bristle.

“It was the only thing I could think of,” I say attempting to remain calm. “If you have any better ideas then say so.”

“No it worked so it’s good,” she says blithely.

I restrain the urge to grit my teeth and close my eyes to take some calming breaths.

“So how does this work,” the stranger asks sitting tailor style beside my head. I turn to look at her. Her quirked eyebrow and laughing eyes indicate equal measures of curiosity and amusement.

“How does what work,” I finally ask tiredly looking directly above me at the sky. Maybe a bird will fly by and drop a rock on my head to end this farce.

“This putting you back together thing,” she replies. I turn to look at her.

She’s completely serious.

“Putting me back together,” I carefully question.

“Yes. Reconnecting your legs and torso region I mean. Should we sew them back together or just stick them next to each other and they’ll reattach themselves – “ I interrupt her. “Who the hell are you?”

There is a pause. Then the strangers eyes crinkle in a smile.

“I’m a friend. You can call me Cat.”

Chapter 6: Chapter 6 - Cat

Chapter 6 – Cat

I smile to myself at Carrow’s – the Priest’s - skeptical expression. See, everything is going to be fine I tell myself, ruthlessly suppressing the negative emotions swirling, particularly the sick feeling of unease. Better to act as if everything was fine, sarcasm and witty comebacks are your friend, rather than let anyone see the truth.

I allow myself a quiet in-drawn breath however, as I contemplate where to go from here.

The elf maiden, Nara I believe, is alive but still under the veil of death.

I’m fairly certain she was dead or nearly there when I found her, I think grimly to myself, while outwardly maintaining calm.
She barely responded to the healing bean, but at least she is breathing regularly now.

I turn away from the Priest, unwilling to allow him to see my expression slip. My lips press into a thin line in remembrance of what I’d found.

The elf maiden was lying prone upon the embankment, cold as ice, with the look death upon her.
I had immediately fed her a healing bean, but that only got her breathing again, with no other outward sign of health.
Her poor state made me anxious to find the Priest, and upon seeing his legs lying upon the path with no sign of his upper half…

Well I think my heart about stopped.

I’m fairly certain it did stop for a moment when I found HER iconography lying only a few yards from his torso.

It does give me a lot of insight into his current condition, I think anxiously.

That She is here and wearing him down enough that he would bear her mark, says a lot about the situation, and explains Nara’s condition.
It’s probably the first time he used it’s power.

Turning back to the Priest I ensure that my expression betrays none of my turbulent thoughts.

“Now back to my earlier question – “

He interrupts me. “A friend? How are you a friend, when I don’t even know you?”

I bite back an oath. Of course He is the one to ask this.

“Well let’s leave the friend part alone for now then and just accept the fact that I want to help you, okay?” I tell him with a strained smile.

Please let him accept this, please let him accept this.

“Fine,” I breathe out in relief before his next words make my relief sour. “I am expecting answers out of you though.”

I truly wish that all of these people who I am trying to save would stop saying that, I think irritably to myself, conveniently ignoring the more sensible part of me which points out that I would be acting in much the same way if a stranger came to my rescue in this manner.

Wishing to get back on topic I humor him, making my tone as patronizing and sarcastic as possible to convey my displeasure.
I’m under a lot of stress right now, okay?!

“Fine, fine, I’ll answer your questions when we get you and your party to a place of safety.”

“Which would be where?” he asks with a snort which really shouldn’t be – focus Cat!

“I have already sent for help from the closest town, I just passed one, so I was thinking we should head back there to recuperate. There I can help all of you recover, we can rest, and you can get some answers!” I reply brightly, deciding in the meantime to try and put him back together with trial and error.

Hoping my bright tone can fool him, and hiding my eyes so he can’t see the horrified revulsion in them, I work to try and press his upper and lower halves together.
Hopefully I won’t need to stitch him back together, for I honestly don’t think I’d be able to without giving away my true feelings.
I hate – focus Cat!

Thankfully it seems that my first estimation was correct.
The death magic that keeps the Priest…alive…well sorta, also pulls his body back together when separated.

I watch in fascination as both halves of his body knit back together, his flesh hidden by his clothing, but his clothing sewing itself back together as well.

“Fascinating,” I mutter not paying attention to my surroundings.

A mistake I regret as I’m suddenly thrown the ground as the Priest tackles me with a growl.

My back hits the ground hard and my still tender shoulder makes its feelings known, as sharp needlelike pain races down my arm.

But I’m distracted from the pain as the Priest, the very undead Priest, is crowding into my space.
His arms braced over me, he thrusts his rotting face an inch from mine, his body hovering over mine.

“If you are here to betray me or my companions I will stop you. Am I understood?”

Not trusting myself to speak, knowing my reaction is unfounded given the situation but unable to help it, I quickly nod my head.

“Good,” he tells me a bit of sarcasm creeping back into his tone as he leans back out of my space.

He stands, and then surprisingly enough offers me a hand.
Looking up at him I can see he expects me to ignore it or even bat it away.

I look at his face. So many emotions flicker across his eyes, too quick for me to catch them all.

Instead of doing as he expects I take his hand with a smile, allowing him to pull me to my feet.

I laugh a little nervously as his strength nearly pulls me into him.

I quickly disengage our hands and resist the urge to rub that hand.

For a dead man his hands were not unpleasant. Cool to the touch and slightly stiff, but not unpleasant.

“Well, that was unexpected,” I awkwardly comment referring back to his earlier menace and valiantly avoiding the direction my thoughts took as a result.
Rutting hell Cat, pull yourself together woman!

Straightening my shoulders I determinedly press on. “Let’s get back to the others,” I tell him reaching for the blanket I had laid him on, but before I can grab the wrapped iconography he snatches it up.

I blink then frown slightly as he unwraps the bundle. He stares at it as I walk to him.
I roughly re-wrap the bundle.

“Don’t touch it with your bare hands,” I warn him.

He blinks at me and his hands loosen around the icon, allowing me to tug it from his grasp.

“Don’t handle it at all if you can help it.”

As I tuck the icon into a special pouch the Priest asks, “If it’s so horrible why not leave it here?”

Placing the pouch within my satchel I gather my thoughts for a moment.

“If you leave it here you won’t have it when She comes looking for it.”

I turn looking him dead in the eyes.

“The Pale Lady always comes looking for what she believes is hers.”

I see his throat work and know that he understands my implication. Good. He is right to be wary of her, I think bitterly to myself.

Turning around I walk back to the makeshift stretcher, bundling up the blanket roughly as I go.

Without another word I grab the end of the rope halter and begin to pull.

“Keep up Priest,” I call over my shoulder as I begin the march through the woods.

“Sexy,” I hear a mutter from the direction of my waist, but completely ignore it.

After I time I begin looking back to check on the elf maiden and see the Priest flanking me, scanning the trees as we walk back towards the others.

Nodding my head in approval of his caution I try to determine how best to proceed.

“You shouldn’t talk to her, you know.” I see his head turn in my direction with my peripherals. “It’ll make it worse in the end.”

“Who are you talking about,” he asks finally.

“You know who I am speaking of,” I retort sharply, giving him a piercing look as he begins walking parallel to the stretcher.

“The Pale Lady,” he replies pensively. “I didn’t know that’s what she was called. Where are you from exactly?”

I can tell from his tone that I’m treading on dangerous ground, but I can’t just leave it here without warning him in some way.

“She goes by many names, but the Pale Lady is one of her most common monikers,” I tell him completely ignoring his comment about where I was from.

He does not reply and the silence stretches on. Tension builds until you could cut through it before I finally speak my mind.

“Don’t talk to her if you can help it. She will erode and twist you until you become what she wants. Until you give in. Her promises are nothing but lies –“

“And what would you know about it,” he suddenly yells invading my personal space.

I clench my jaw but hold my ground.

“I know because I have already experienced her lies first hand. She will take what she wants no matter the price.”

We stand there staring at each other, before finally the Priest backs down.
He shakes his head a little then says “It doesn’t matter. I’m already dead.”

I pause and watch him for a moment as he heads a little bit in front of me.

“Do you really think that will stop her,” I ask him dread pooling in my stomach.

He looks back over his shoulder at me, then continues walking.

“It won’t,” I whisper to myself. “It really won’t.”

After catching up with the Priest we continue walking in silence for a few moments, before he finally asks how far we are from the others.

“Not too much farther,” I tell him neutrally, still unsure if I should try to warn him again about the Pale Lady.

I think the Priest senses my indecision, or else just doesn’t want to walk anymore in silence, for he begins a casual conversation about traveling.
Particularly navigating tips he knows. I allow myself to be drawn into the conversation, but it quickly devolves into an argument about the merits of using the stars and maps vs. locals’ guidance.

“All I’m saying is that the locals usually know the best routes to get where you need to go,” Car- the Priest is saying.

“Well what if the locals are trying to lead you astray, what then Priest?” I question very confused about how we got to this point in our conversation but enjoying it too much to stop.

“Well Warrior, I don’t know you tell me, what would you do?”

“See this is why using maps and star charts is much safer and reliable than local knowledge because you never know if –“

“Cat?”

I stop suddenly disoriented. I’d been arguing with the Priest so intently that I hadn’t realized that we had made it to the clearing I had promised to meet the others in.

I blink. Well that was…unexpected.

I shoot the Priest a glance out of the corner of my eye and see him blinking as well. Huh.

Wren is half standing an odd look on her face as she stares at the two of us.

It was her voice that interrupted our bickering and I am suddenly extremely grateful for my mask as I can feel my cheeks heating in an embarrassed blush.

“We will continue this later,” I mutter to the Priest, then pull the stretcher farther into the clearing sending an unseen smile Wren’s way.

“Here they are your last two companions!” I tell the wizard brightly.

He is sitting on a stump looking much better than when I saw him last, though still slightly unsteady.

Glancing around the clearing I notice that Rilk, who seems to be holding Wren’s hand, is awake and attempting to sit up at our entrance.
He seems to recognize me, but looks very warily in the direction of the Priest. As well he should, he is after all, undead, and death magic’s can be unpredictable.

Turning back to the wizard the smile that had spread across my face at Wren and Rilk’s antics fades slightly.

He is attempting to stand, his face white with shock, staring at the prone elf maid on the stretcher.

“Nara,” I hear him whisper an agonized note in his voice.

Something in me clenches. I understand then.

Determined to do all that I can to help her, not that I wasn’t before, I turn back to the stretcher and begin rummaging in my pack.

Without turning I sense the rest of the party begin to come up behind me.

Despite a lack of breath or heartbeat I know that the Priest is somewhere behind me watching as well.

I can practically feel the guilt oozing off him.

Before anyone gets closer I say under my breath, hoping he can hear me, “It wasn’t your fault.”

For a moment I think he didn’t hear me, then, “Yes it was.”
The palpable self-disgust is evident and I wince internally, as I hear him step off to the side.

As the wizard, Wren, and Rilk arrive behind me I have managed to pull what I need out of my pack.

Healing potions, my bag of healing beans, a few tinctures and herbs, a flask of clear spring water, and – a last resort – I tell myself, touching the bag in which the wrapped iconography was placed.
Without another word I set to work.

Humming under my breath and hoping the rest attribute it to something more absentminded, I take a small cup and mix one of my healing tinctures with some crushed feverfew, bringing it up closer to my mask as if I’m smelling it.
Feeling it settle, I place it on the ground next to me then lean forward.

I stare intently at the elf maiden, examining her much more closely than I had before.

I am not certain what I’m looking for but I know I shall recognize it when I see it. And there!

I sit back on my heels, slightly discouraged but not surprised.

With a sigh I open the bag with the wrapped iconography, but leave it wrapped.

“Priest,” I call unable to help the subdued note in my voice.
I feel rather than hear him step forward. Without looking away from the elf I hold up the wrapped bundle and tell him “Reverse it.”

The shock that goes round the clearing is palpable, but I ignore it.

I turn to look at him finally and see the denial in his eyes.

Despair and frustrated anger fill me, and it is with a much harsher tone than intended that I speak.

“You took Her mark, not knowing what it meant, and you used it, not knowing what it would do. Only you are able to reverse it. I can’t even touch it,” I trail off bitterly at the end.

“How,” I hear him say a lost note in his voice, quieter than I had heard him yet. Turning I feel – no –

The Priest stands next to me the wrapped icon in his hand looking lost and despairing and oh so small.

How can he look small, he is the tallest person here, I wonder inanely to myself.

Unable to help myself I reach up and touch his free hand.

His head whips towards mine, shock in his gaze.

I ignore the flakes of his skin I can feel coming off onto mine and tell him the only thing I can that may help.

“You can do this. You have the power within you. All you have to do is call it forth.”

He looks – I can’t even describe the emotions that flash across his face quicker than lightning.

Finally he seems to settle on determination.

Crouching at my side he quickly unwraps the icon and I cannot help but flinch back slightly.
Ignoring my reaction, which he must have felt, he holds it out towards the elf and incants “Undo what has been done, I call you back from the brink. Awaken.”

Power passes by, ruffling my hood as it passes, and I am unable to suppress the shiver that flows through me. Such power…

Then he sits back on his heels and I know he is finished.

The veil that covered the elf fading from my sight, I quickly lean forward, snatching up the cup and holding it to the elf’s lips.
Just as the last bit of grey fades from her face, I tip the contents of the cup into her mouth.

With a quiet sigh she swallows, blinks her eyes, then they peacefully close.

I swear I hear a sob behind me, but ignore it in favor for checking her over once more.
She is truly sleeping now, not unconscious or comatose as before, but a peaceful healing rest.
The tincture and feverfew should aid with that.

Turning I see the Priest re-wrapping the icon before handing it back to me, his face blank.

Without comment I place it back into the bag I had taken it from.

Quietly I tell him, as I pack the rest of my supplies, “I told you, you could do this.”

He doesn’t respond, but I didn’t truly expect him to.

My stomach rolls and I have to pause a moment to regain my composure.

A moment later I am finished packing my supplies.

One last thing: I take a small drawstring pouch and an extra blanket out of my pack. I cover the elf with the blanket and hang the pouch from my wrist.

I stand up, turning as I do so, and swinging my satchel back over my shoulders.

The wizard is glaring at the Priest, who appears to be ignoring him, while Wren and Rilk look warily on.

My lips thin. I don’t have time for this, nor the patience, I think slightly hysterically.
It’s been barely four hours past daybreak and already I’m nearly at my breaking point.

Clapping my hands I interrupt the tense silence.

“I’m going to bury the knight,” I announce.

That get’s their attention.

[Do you need help?] Rilk asks tentatively.

He seems nice enough I think approvingly, observing the protective arm he has around Wren’s shoulders.
The fact that she hasn’t shrugged it off yet says enough about her feelings.

Walking past him I clap him on the shoulder saying [No, but thank you for the offer. Instead,] and here I lower my voice slightly, [I need you to keep an eye on things while I am gone. Protect them, even from each other, but especially watch Wren.]

Seeing his decisive nod, I pat him again then suddenly switch to Westish.

“A moment of your time Priest?” Seeing his nod of assent, I then continue past Rilk leaving with one parting command.

[You are in charge Sergeant!]

[Hey!] I hear the wizard call out suddenly offended.

Whoops, I think to myself, I forgot that he could speak Orkish.

[Why is he in charge and not me?!]

[Are you a sergeant?] I call back, already on my way back to the clearing in which the knight was defeated, the Priest beside me.

I hear muttered grumbling from behind me and take it as the agreement it is.

[That’s why!] I shout back in answer.

I swear I hear a muttered query of [How did she know I was a sergeant…?] but ignore it.

The last thing I hear is Wren asking, a plaintive tone to her voice, “Could someone please tell me what just happened?”

With the Priest in tow, I only walk a few feet past the clearing’s hearing range before turning to face him.
He looks resigned, but I ignore that in favor of holding out the drawstring pouch wrapped around my wrist.

When he merely stares at it I sigh then tell him “Here,” as I take it off my wrist, then hold it out for him to take.

His brow furrows in confusion and my patience at the situation snaps.

With a put upon sigh I step forward and take his hand in my own.

Ignoring his flinch I place the small pouch in the palm of his hand.

Looking up at him, damn he’s tall, I tell him “This is for you.”

“For what,” he asks confused.

I feel his arm tense above mine and tighten my grip slightly, not allowing him to pull away.

“It’s getting worse isn’t it,” I say quietly staring intently into his eyes.

He freezes and his jaw works soundlessly. I nod grimly to myself. My theories are most likely correct then.

“I know you don’t trust me, but I hope that you can trust the fact that I don’t want you to devolve more while in the presence of someone within my protection.”

Thoughts shuttle rapidly across his eyes and I can see him making the connection.

“The girl. Wren. She’s someone important to you, someone you are protecting.”

Damn he is clever, I can’t help the admiring thought, before reprimanding myself to get back on topic.

“Yes,” I tell him simply.

He nods his head in understanding then asks “What is it?”

Nodding to the pouch and disengaging from him after realizing that he now is willing to take it, I tell him, “Some things I’ve picked up in the course of my travels. Meant to help with death magics. Try some. It should help.”

He stares at me for a moment. I hold his gaze but can’t help hoping…

“Okay.” His sudden concession surprises me out of my reverie.

“I’ll try it,” he continues.

He looks as if he’s unsure whether to say something else, then his resolve seems to firm. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I tell him slightly shocked that he even says something at all and unable to help the automatic response.

After another moment staring at him, with him returning the stare an odd expression in his eyes, I give myself a mental shake.

With another nod of acknowledgement to him, I turn on my heel and set off to prepare a cairn for my defeated foe.

Hopefully, this will be the last bit of excitement for a few more hours, I can’t help but hope.

I know how unlikely that is though.

Notes:

Sorry about the delay in posting. My computer fried in a lightning storm, then my job got crazy, and basically life. I'll be back to regularly posting now!

Chapter 7: Chapter 7 - Cat

Summary:

In which unpleasant tasks are completed and misunderstandings cleared up

Chapter 7 – Cat

I make it to the clearing before my breakfast makes a reappearance. Being violently ill is never a pleasant experience, but it is especially vile when in the midst of a quest.

I groan and wipe my mouth with the back of a glove. I wait a moment to ensure I am finished, before returning my mask to it’s proper place.

Rut, I’m going to die from nervous anxiety aren’t I, is the thought going through my mind.

My hands can’t stop shaking.

First Wren, then the fight, then all the questions, the elf, Her, and the poor Priest.

Shit I can’t handle this right now, I think, taking a seat on a rock for a moment.

I pull my hood off and tilt my head back to feel the mid-morning sun on my face.
I take my mask off once more, taking a sip of water from my flask, before allowing myself a moment to just be.

I hear a gasp from behind me and quickly turn in time to see that ridiculous bards hat duck behind a tree.

I scoff then turn back to the sun.

“I know you are there bard, you aren’t as quiet as you think you are.”

No answer.

“You know the only reason I haven’t gone in there to drag you out and beat Wren’s epic out of you is because she wouldn’t want me to. So think of it this way, you have your current measure of health thanks to Wren, the bard-to-be you stole from. Hope that makes you feel really good about yourself,” I end sarcastically before returning the mask to my face. Time to get to work.

Burying dead people is a nasty smelly job, particularly if they are knights who don’t know the meaning of personal hygiene.

There isn’t much to be done about it however.

It’s a thankless job that can’t really be made better.

I’m glad for the slight reprieve from the group however.

It is extremely stressful trying to keep them all safe and intact, WITHOUT giving anything away about myself or Wren in the process.
Hopefully it’ll get easier once we have a place to stay for a bit.

I finish stacking the rocks on top of the cairn I raised over his body and begin to wonder whether I should say a prayer for him or something, when a frantic flapping of wings breaks the quiet of the clearing.

A familiar harsh voice quickly follows, “Cat quickly! They need you back at the clearing!”

Fearing the worst I snatch up my things, hearing a faint “Tallyho!” from Fight as I run back down the path.

Buckling on a sword while running is just as difficult as it sounds and much harder than it looks.

I manage to have Fight secured, with Protector resting over my shoulder and Vengeance and Justice at my waist, by the time I round the bend and skid to a stop.

I blink my eyes as Rake alights on my shoulder. “Yeah things are weird now,” he mutters in my ear and I can’t help but agree with a nod.

The clearing was utter chaos.

Perf had managed to drag the makeshift stretcher to the other side of the clearing and was standing protectively in front of it while yelling something about betraying thrust?

I wasn’t really sure, it wasn’t very clear shouting.

Rilk was standing in front of Wren who was backed against a tree, with a blade at the ready, roaring in Orkish as Wren tried to break past him.

In front of him stood an Ork woman, her back to me, shaking an ax at him snarling.

Meanwhile, two men and a dwarf woman were menacing a snarling Priest, who looked like he was getting ready to pounce.

With a sharp whistle I caught everyone’s attention.

“What the hell is going on here?!” I roared into the sudden silence.

“Cat,” I see Wren attempt to leave her place of safety behind Rilk, before he stops her with a hand.

“Let her go, maggot breath,” a surprisingly familiar voice snarls at Rilk.

“Miad?” I ask suddenly disoriented.

At my query the Ork woman whirls around.

“Cat?!” Miad asks shocked delight spreading across her face.

The dwarf woman turns and I can see that it is “Daggy?!”

Suddenly the three of us rush towards each other, falling in a messy hugging heap in the center of the clearing.

Laughing and speaking over each other it’s a wonderful moment, until I hear a clearing of a throat.

I look up to find Wren standing over us an upraised eyebrow expressing her confusion.

“Wren!” I exclaim and scramble up. Pulling up Miad with a hand, who in turn pulls up Daggy, I turn with a wide grin to Wren.

“These are two of my best friends. Wren, this is –“ “We’ve met,” Miad interrupts with a smile.

“Oh?” I query wondering how three of the most important people in my life came to meet.

“Yes,” Daggy continues with a fond smile in Wren’s direction. “We found her passed out in the gutter outside our establishment, took her in, and cleaned her up. Then it turned out she had a gift for music, eh Songbird?”

“In the gutter?” I question aghast.

“How did – wait. Songbird?” Wren suddenly looks a bit shy and shuffles awkwardly.

“I didn’t know where you were so I wanted to take a reminder of you with me. Hence Songbird.”

For a moment I can’t think.

Then suddenly I’m squeezing Wren to me as tight as I can.

I feel a split second of hesitation, before her arms are wrapping around me too.
I feel a slight sob shake her form and shush her gently, rocking us back and forth for a moment.

“I hate to interrupt this…tender moment,” a sarcastic voice begins, “but a little help would be appreciated.”

I let go of Wren, who subtly wipes at her eyes, turning to face where the Priest stands still being covered by two men.

He no longer looks as if he’s about to pounce, but he’s definitely not relaxed, judging by the clear tension in his face.

Turning back to my old friends I tell them, “He’s with me. They are all with me.”

It seems that my assumption that the men were brought by them was correct, for at my statement Daggy turns and gestures for the men to back off.

“With you,” Miad asks aghast. “Hag’s breath, how did you end up with such a motley crew under your protection.”

“Eh, you know me,” I say laughing nervously while watching as the tension in the clearing slowly ebbs.

“Always picking up strays,” Daggy says a definite note of fondness in her voice.

“Catriona the compassionate indeed,” Miad says teasingly.

I force down a blush and then turn back to them.

“While it is amazing to see you both, and we have tons of catching up to do, I assume you are here in response to Rake’s request?”

Seeing my friends nod I continue.

“Yes well, we have three injured people and one recovering person to deal with. I was hoping you could help get them all back to the nearest town where we could preferably stay at an inn and rest. Do you know if there is an inn at the town?”

With a grin Miad slaps me on the shoulder.

I restrain a slight wince.

I had forgotten how strong my friend was.

“You are looking at the proprietors of the finest tavern and inn this side of Farfitall. We will have a room and a hot meal ready for you all once we get back to town.”

“You, you own the tavern?” I question delighted at my friends good fortune. Seeing their proud nods, I laugh out loud and congratulate them both.

“What’s this we heard about a dead knight,” one of the unknown men suddenly asks.

“He’s buried now,” I say simply.

“And did this -,” here he gestures to the Priest who bares his teeth at him, “dark creature do it.”

“No,” I say resisting the urge to glare at the man. It is after all a reasonable question.

“I killed him,” I say simply.

There is in indrawn breath across the clearing, as only two of the nine other people in the clearing were aware of what had actually occurred, and the shock is palpable.

Suddenly both men are aiming their weapons at me.

I simply raise an eyebrow at them, while Miad yells angrily at them to drop their weapons, Rilk mutters angrily, Perf yelps, and the Priest snarls.

I blink. Daggy on the other hand gets to the root of the issue, as usual, and asks “Why did you kill him?”

“He threatened to kill me and Wren for having witnessed his attempted murder of one of his own companions.”

There is a pause.

Then Daggy says in a trembling voice, “Come again?”

Understanding that she wants a more complete explanation I comply, walking a little further into the clearing as I do so and subtly adjusting Fight at my belt while watching the two unknown men.

“The knight attempted to murder Perf, why I know not, and when Wren and I witnessed it he threatened to kill us as well.
While Wren healed Perf, I fought the knight. When the knight injured me the Ork, Rilk, stepped in and was injured as well.
While Wren helped him, I then defeated the knight.
He died because he was a killer, willing to murder his own quest companion as well as any innocent traveler to cross his path.”

There is silence then the Priest speaks up. “You killed Glorion.”

I look at him. There is a strange expression on his face.

“Yes. He was a known murderer and frankly a sociopath who took joy in the pain of others.”

“Can’t disagree with that,” I hear Perf mutter but I do not look at him, intent still on the Priests face.

There is a flicker of indecision on it, before he inclines his head towards me. “I shall pray for his peace,” he murmurs and I understand what he is trying to tell me.

A wave of gratitude washes over me and some of the tension in my shoulders leaves.

“Well, killing a known murderer is not exactly a crime now is it?” Daggy asks a little too cheerfully for the situation.

I shoot her a sharp look and receive a mild glare in return.

Miad picks up the train of thought continuing to try and shape the townsfolk’s view of me by saying, “In fact I’d consider it a civil service. Thanks to you Lady Warrior, our town is safer now with one less murderer on the loose.”

I barely restrain my eye roll. Miad’s acting is as bad as ever.

Despite my friends obvious machinations the two men seem to take their words at face value and visibly relax.

With a few halting thanks to me for taking care of a dangerous man, and a few nervous glances towards the Priest, the men quickly begin to work towards the makeshift stretcher.

Perf hovers nearly getting in their way, before Daggy steps forward. I can’t hear what she says to him, but he visibly relaxes at her words.

Obviously there’s a story there, I think, raising an eyebrow in thought.

With Perf and the elf taken care of, I turn my attention to the rest of the group.

Miad is standing between me and the Priest, watching him warily, but he only has eyes for me.

I refuse to look at him though, concentrating instead on going to Wren and Rilk.

“So what exactly happened while I was gone,” I mutter to Wren, as I duck under the Ork’s other shoulder so he is supported on both sides.

“What didn’t happen,” Wren replies with a huff.

We take off in the direction of the town.

The two townsmen are pulling the stretcher with the elf on it in front, with Perf walking closely behind while supported by Daggy.
Wren and I come next, supporting Rilk between us. Close behind me I sense the Priest.
Knowing Miad she is closely covering him.

Ever the protective one, I think slightly exasperated.

Rake flies down once more and lands on my shoulder.
“Ahem,” he says with a pompous tilt of his head. “Extortionist,” I tell him fondly as I reach into my belt pouch and pull out the promised maple candy.
With a pleased caw Rake flies away with his prize, though I know he’ll be back soon enough.

As we walk I manage to get the full story from Wren and Rilk.

Once I left and the Priest returned, Perf began to argue with him trying to determine why he knew what happened to the elf, Nara, and why he was the only one who could reverse it.
The Priest made several snarky remarks, but no true answers, and seemed content to examine the contents of a drawstring pouch he was carrying.
When Rilk and Wren attempted to intercede, the Priest glared at them both.
Rilk took offense to that on Wren’s part and warned the Priest to be respectful, to which the Priest merely snorted and went back to the pouch.
After a few minutes of Perf shouting and the Priest ignoring him, Daggy’s group arrived.
Immediately Daggy and Miad attempted to pull Perf and Wren away from the rest, which resulted in Rilk going on the defensive.

[You left me in charge,] he says with a shrug when I give him a look at this point in their tale.

When the Priest attempts to explain the situation the townsfolk and Daggy went for him.
Apparently what Perf had been yelling about wasn’t about betraying thrust but betraying trust, specifically the trust that Perf had that the Priest wouldn’t hurt Nara.

Oh boy. This will be a doozy to deal with.

Taking a deep breath in, I hold it a moment before letting it back out.

Why couldn’t my life be simpler? I silently question.
I’d love to be a simple farmer or a bar keep or something, anything other than...this…right now.

My thoughts are interrupted by a gravelly voice. “Lady Warrior, a word?”

I turn back, quirking an eyebrow at the repeated phrase, to see the Priest watching me very intently.

Shag the tits off a harpy, I did not want to have the conversation I believe I was about to be forced into.

Restraining a groan, I give a nod of assent, then call Miad over.

“Take over for me for a moment would you?” I ask.
“Wait, what?” She questions, but I don’t wait for her to reply, instead ducking out from Rilk’s arm.
She quickly takes my place, shooting me a glare as I take up her position of rearguard with the Priest.

The undead dark creature her eyes seem to warn me.

I ignore her to focus on the most likely unpleasant conversation I’m about to have.

“You were the one to kill Glorion,” he begins, an incredulous note in his voice.

“I am,” I reply deciding to let him drive the conversation for now.

“And yet you told me, back when you found me, that you were there to get us to safety, that you were a friend.”

“I did say that and I am,” I reply, already sensing where he was going with this.

“And yet you –“

“Killed an unstable homicidal maniac who routinely murdered innocents, who genuinely felt no remorse for his actions and planned on continuing said actions without any repercussions? The man who murdered your wizard in cold blood, after Perf had defeated him in battle, who would have killed you without a second’s hesitation were he to see you now? Yes. I did kill him. He wasn’t a good person and the world is better off without him.”

There is a pregnant pause, then the Priest says, an awkward tone to his voice, “I was not expecting you to say all that.”

“Well it’s true,” I tell him hotly.

Taking a deep breath I remind myself that the Priest isn’t the one I’m truly angry at.

“Besides,” I continue after I have calmed myself a bit, “he was fully intending on killing me and Wren, and as we established before – “

“She’s someone important to you,” he finishes for me.

“Yes,” I say quietly. We walk together for a moment in silence.

“Did you try any of it,” I ask, genuinely curious.

I can feel him misstep beside me but decide not to comment.

“Yes,” he says after a moment.

When it seems that is all he will say on the matter, I nudge him with my shoulder and ask “And?”

He seems confused for a moment, staring down at his shoulder, before replying “It helped a little bit.”

I look at him. He looks back at me, then down at his feet, before facing forward once more.

“Before drinking some of that tincture, I would have attacked those men the moment they threatened me or –“ he catches himself, then continues. “But after drinking some of that tincture I felt much more in control of myself.”

“Good,” I tell him and pat him on the shoulder.

His surprise is palpable, but he says nothing more until we reach the town half an hour later.

Chapter 8: Chapter 8 - Cat

Summary:

In which sanctuary is found and answers demanded

Chapter 8 – Cat

“Beards and Bonnets,” I ask unable to prevent the snort that accompanies it.

“What?” Daggy asks defensively.
“It’s a good name,” she tells me as she helps Perf sit down at an empty table.

The rest of us file in, everyone but the Priest looking comfortable with their surroundings.

“Well it certainly is…something,” I say sarcastically.

Looking around the tavern I notice that it looks quite comfortable and cozy, surprisingly enough not smelling like vomit or piss or stale alcohol like most taverns I’ve been in.

“You’ve done very nicely for yourselves,” I say unable to help the slight tone of surprise.

My head is knocked forward and I express my displeasure as Miad walks behind me, Nara over her shoulder, slapping the back of my head in the process with the back of her hand.

“Don’t sound so surprised Kitty-kat,” she mocks playfully.

I growl at her, playing along, although genuinely hating that nickname “I told you not to call me that.”

“Whatever Cat,” Miad says over her shoulder as she heads for the far side of the tavern.

“Now, now children,” Daggy says chidingly.

Our playful banter is interrupted by the Priest.

“Where exactly are we?” he asks exasperatedly.

“We are at our tavern, Beards and Bonnets, where we have some rooms in the back for rent. You’ll like what we have for you Cat,” Daggy tells us, directing the last part at me.

She begins leading us in the direction that Miad went.

“What do you mean, for me,” I question Daggy curiously.

“You’ll see,” is the mysterious reply.

We go down a hallway with about eight doors in it, approaching the only open door, the last room on the right.

“The one to your left is Miad’s and mine is across from yours,” Daggy tells me as we get to the doorway.

“What on earth do you –“ I begin to say before I lose my voice.

The room is beautiful.

It has windows that are high up it’s walls, letting sunlight into the room and giving the impression of space.
The walls are stained a rich golden brown, with the floor a slightly darker stain.
Slightly off center an enormous bed, covered in soft furs, stands with a low table next to it.

I barely register Miad placing Nara on the bed, as I turn to look at the rest of the room.

A few trunks, with midnight blue pillows on them, and a table large enough to seat five take up the majority of the room. There is a wardrobe with one door standing open in the corner and I can just see a folding screen standing in an alcove.

The room looks like it came out of one of my dreams.

“ – mean,” I finally finish.

“This, this is,” I begin barely able to get my thoughts in order.

“This is for you Cat,” Daggy interrupts gently.

“You were the one to give us this idea in the first place and it was you who supported our dreams of being independent women. Hell you even gave us some of your earnings when you could spare them. This room is yours Cat. So you’ll always have a place.”

“But –“ I begin overwhelmed by such a show of friendship.

“No buts,” Miad interrupts now. “You deserve this.”

I can’t help it. I move swiftly forward and gather them both in a hug.

They embrace me back as I whisper to them both “I don’t deserve you.”

After a moment, they both pull back.

“Of course you deserve us,” Miad says bracingly.

“You are our friend. You’ve stood by us when not many would.”

Daggy wipes at her eyes then says briskly, “And I won’t hear a word about you or your motley crew paying a cent while you stay here.”

Before I can make any more protests, Daggy exclaims “I’ll get some grub started,” while Miad says “And I shall start up the boilers for some hot water.”

Then they are gone.

The finger I had held up in protest wilts and a moment of silence reigns.

Then I hear a snort from behind me.

Turning I see Wren perched on the edge of the bed.

“Well you sure showed them huh?” she tells me teasingly.

“Shut up,” I mutter trying to force down my blush.

Glancing around the room I realize that it is quite spacious and although it will be a little cramped with six of us, we will definitely be able to manage.

Walking a little further into the room, leaving the three males in the hallway, I peek around the corner.

In the alcove a little bathroom is set up, complete with large wooden tub.

Curious I peek in the wardrobe.

“Oh no,” I groan aloud.

“What is it,” Wren asks curiously, hopping off the bed where she had been checking on Nara and coming over to me.

“This,” I say opening the wardrobe to show her what I’m referring to.

“Well, that. That is something.”

“Is that a dress or a bird,” I hear Perf ask curiously behind me.

I groan aloud.

The whatever it is, is an…interesting shade of pink with many gathers all over it. To top it off ribbons and lace bedeck a good portion of it.

“They’ve got to be shitting me,” I mutter.

Moving the monstrosity aside, I see that there are a few plain dresses in about my size as well as plenty of room for my own things.

Closing the wardrobe door, I leave my satchel in front of it.

Perf is now in the room, eyes darting between Nara on the bed and Wren and I by the wardrobe.

Rilk is still in the doorway, looking unsure about entering.

I can barely make out the Priest, despite his height, for he is pressed almost completely against the opposite wall.

Rolling my eyes I invite the remaining members of our party in.

“Come in you two, there will be plenty of room once we move things,” I say as I begin to do just that.

I move the table, which is low meant for sitting on the floor as opposed to a chair, over towards the wall with the windows.

This leaves a huge open space for the males to sleep on. I’d already mentally claimed the bed for us ladies.
It looked like it would be big to fit three of us on.

I begin exploring the closed chests that stand between the wall and the bed, while Wren begins looking in the chest at the foot of the bed.

In my chests, one has towels, while the other has a few extra pillows, which I toss into the center of the floor.

The chest Wren is searching has what I was looking for.

Several large blankets and fur throws are neatly folded inside.
As Rilk and the Priest slowly come into the room, I begin arranging blankets and throws on the floor with pillows placed strategically.
Finally it is finished.

“Ta-dah!” I announce, proud of my handiwork.

[What is it?] Rilk finally asks.

[A blanket nest] I tell him, annoyed he couldn’t figure it out on his own.

[A what?] Rilk asks confused, but Perf makes a noise of understanding.

[It is a comfortable place to rest.] Perf explains.

The Priests forehead is creased and the lines around his eyes are even more pronounced.

I sigh, feeling much put upon, then explain for everyone else’s benefit, “It’s a blanket nest. A comfortable place for us to rest.”

Switching to Orkish I tell Rilk [And I really need to get you a better way of communicating with us.]

He huffs in what I think might be laughter for him, before coming forward to the edge of my nest and tentatively sitting down.

I bite back a laugh at his caution, then gesture for the rest to come and join him.

As the rest of the group, sans Priest who hangs back against the wall, make their way to the pile of soft things in the room coincidentally gathered around the table, I make my way to check on Nara.

Miad and Daggy return to the room bearing platters of food and drink, just as I determine that Nara is no longer in any danger and most likely just needs so rest.

We all sit down to eat, Wren inviting Miad and Daggy to join us.

With one exception.

“Come on Priest,” I call, patting the blankets next to me.

“I cannot eat,” he states an unreadable look on his face.

“Then come and drink,” I tell him looking meaningfully at the bag now wrapped around his wrist.

He hesitates, staring hard at me, then glancing at the others who I now realize have gone silent.

Then slowly he pushes away from the wall and approaches the table.

He hesitates for a moment, then nearly throws himself down next to me, the violence of his movement bumping my shoulder and nearly toppling me.

But his hand on my shoulder steadies me.

Raising my eyebrow at him, but a smile quirking my lips, I say nothing.

He rolls his eyes at me and my smile widens into an unseen smirk. With a quiet chuckle I turn to the meal.

For a while there is no talking just the sounds of food being eaten with gusto.

I notice that the Priest has withdrawn another flask of the tincture and is sipping it slowly.

I grin quietly to myself.

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye.

Already his flesh is beginning to look less…grey is perhaps not the right word, but that is how it looks.

Once everyone finishes there is a moment of hesitation.

I tense slightly.

This feels like question time.

Looking up slowly I see that nearly every person at the table is staring at me.

Even the Priest is glancing at me out of the corner of his eye.

I stifle several choice curses. It seems that my reprieve is up.

“So…” Wren begins, but I hold up a hand.

“Wait a moment,” I tell them.

I walk quietly to the door, shut then latch it.

Going to my satchel I pull out one of my many pouches and place it on the bed.

From that pouch I retrieve several wrapped bundles.

From the first bundle I retrieve the remaining protective talismans I had created.

I slip one over Nara’s head then hold out three of the remaining four talismans.

“For you,” I say giving a subdued gesture for Miad, Daggy, and the Priest to take them.

Daggy and Miad exchange looks before getting up to retrieve their talisman, each of them placing theirs around their neck.

The Priest does not move.

“It’s not an icon,” I finally say rougher than I would like but unable to help it.

Finally after another moment I walk over to him and drop it in his lap.

“Take it,” I tell him firmly.

Not allowing him a chance to refuse it I turn back to my pouch.

From the second bundle I pull out one of two charms.

[Here Rilk, catch!] I tell the Ork before tossing him one of the charms.

[Huh, what -] “- are you doing –“ Rilk’s sudden change from Orkish to Westish is cut off with a gasp.

As he holds the purple charm in his hands, eyes wide and staring at me, I allow myself a grin.

“Standard translation talisman. Not too difficult to make but difficult enough to ensure it lasts. That one,” I nod at the one in his hands, “should last for three years. Unfortunately, it only translates one way. Meaning that you will be able to understand and speak Westish but we won’t be able to understand and speak Orkish.”

Taking pity on his shocked face I encourage him [Don’t worry. You can still speak Orkish. You just have to concentrate on deliberately speaking Orkish. Just like any translator potion.]

Seeing his shaky nod, I smile and turn to the last little bundle.

“And now for the coup de grace,” I announce.

From out of the bundle I take ten tiny golden charms, each shaped like an x.

Placing the charms around the room, I manage to strategically cover every entrance or exit to the room with an x, as well as all the walls.

Returning to my spot at the table, and bringing my satchel to rest beside me, I sit tailor style with a grin at everyone’s shocked expressions.

“Now watch,” I tell them all with a wink.

“On,” I intone loudly while making an x with my hands.

Suddenly the charms hum to life, creating a glowing golden barrier, stretching between all the charms and creating a huge bubble around us.

“Pretty neat, huh?” I ask preening at their expressions, particularly Perf’s and Wren’s wondrous awe.

“But this – this is high level stuff,” Perf says, stammering in his excitement.

“What does it do,” Daggy asks staring around at the golden glow surrounding her.

“It’s a privacy barrier and a low level protective barrier. No one can hear or see what we are saying while we are in the bubble and it acts as an impediment to anyone who would want to hurt us while we are in it. Won’t stop them but will definitely slow them down in time for us to act against them,” I explain.

“And to turn it off,” Wren begins getting the picture.

“You simply say off and make the gesture,” I agree.

“But that’s not what we want right now is it,” I ask gently.

Everyone turns to look at me.

“Right now, what you want is some answers. And I did promise you some answers, now didn’t I,” I say with a self-deprecating grin.

Seeing their expectant looks I take a deep in-drawn breath and prepare to do some fast talking.

Good thing that runs in the family, I think with a smirk.

Chapter 9: Chapter 9 - Wren

Summary:

In which circumstances are revealed and Carrow gets in trouble

Chapter 9 – Wren

At Cat’s words, everyone snapped to attention.

I for sure had a lot of questions. After all I hadn’t seen her in eight years.

The first thing she did however surprised us all.

“Wren,” she asked gently.

Waiting until I looked her in the eyes she asked “How much did you want me to tell about us?”

The shock and discomfort I felt at her question must have shown, for her eyes softened in response.

“I thought so,” she seemed to say to herself.

“You’ll be in charge of that part then.” She then says with a decisive nod.

I’m thrown off for a moment, but then Miad gently reminds me, “You are up songbird.”

I nod shakily, then square my shoulders. This is no worse than going onstage and singing one of my original compositions and that turned out fine.

So I begin.

“So some of you might know this information, some of you might not, but we are going to all act in a civilized manner, okay? That means waiting until I’m done and then you can ask your questions. Agreed?”

Seeing everyone nod I internally let out a sigh of relief.

I know these people, well kinda, and I trust them fairly well.

But I don’t want to have to argue with any of them, particularly about what I am about to say.

“Okay. So my name is Wren and I am a bard. Well a bard-in-training anyway. Or I was. Well I’ll get to that, just…”

Hearing a gentle clearing of a throat, I see Cat breathing deeply and gesturing for me to slow down.

I take a deep breath as directed, letting it out slowly. Right.

“As you may or may not know bards have to complete an epic of their own as their graduation exam. I was given a ‘lame duck’ epic, an epic that was going on three years or more. Your epic,” I say gesturing to Carrow and Perf.

Gaining confidence I continue.

“I joined you three years into your journey and have followed you for the past year, recording everything that has happened. Then three weeks ago Perf found the Sword of Fighting and everything seemed to snowball.”

At this point Cat raises her hand.

Upon seeing my nod of acknowledgement, she clarifies a strained note in her voice

“Three weeks ago Wren? This all started three weeks ago?”

“Yes,” I agree slightly concerned at her tone of voice.

A sudden stream of expletives comes from Cat’s mouth.

The group of us stare in stunned silence at Cat as filth pours from her mouth.

Finally she finishes.

The room is silent but for Cat’s enraged panting, then suddenly Carrow says a note of sarcasm in his voice, “Crude language AND blasphemy. How charming.”

“Shut it Priest,” Cat grits out before dropping back into her seat besides Carrow, glaring at him.

What, I wonder to myself.

I feel my eyebrow twitch in confusion.

I know she knows his name, so why – a question for when we are alone I tell myself firmly.

“So…” I begin tentatively. “So three weeks ago was when I was called away to do another escort job,” Cat angrily replies.

“Which means that I could have possibly prevented this whole fiasco from the beginning or at the very least been a little less in the dark about all of this.”

“Wait –“ Perf begins to ask, before Cat holds up a hand stalling his question.

“After Wren is finished Perf,” Cat simply says then turns back to me.

“I would appreciate it if you would give a brief recounting of what has occurred in the last three weeks,” Cat asks a deliberately neutral tone to her voice belied by the fist I see clenched on her thigh and the tension in her shoulders.

So I comply.

“Well here is the fast version. The group found a riddle pillar, and Glorion ran off to try and solve it. Perf tried to run, causing Carrow to chase after him, so that he was shot by an Ork party hunting Glorion. Perf tried to revive Carrow, but accidentally reanimated him instead.”

I see Cat clenching her fist harder and speed up a bit.

“Perf and Nara fell into the dungeon where the Sword of Fighting was kept and Perf turned out to be the chosen one. Carrow rejoined the group after they fought off the Orks that were in Rilk’s party. Carrow, Perf, and Nara continued on, but were stopped by a bounty hunter/assassin lady. She led them through the City of the Dead, where they picked up an Ork Archaeologist. And about this time is when it no longer became my epic so I’m a little fuzzy on details after that.”

There is a moment of silence and I can practically hear Cat gritting her teeth.

“Okay,” she finally says, a lot more calmly than I believe she actually feels.

“I am going to want a full version of events of this quest, from everyone, but first lets have Wren wrap up and I shall give some information of my own. Then,” and here she punctuates every word with a stab of her finger, “I want every last sodding detail of this ruddy quest. Understood?”

Everyone nods, with varying degrees of amusement or ire.

“So I’ve been following you, unable to interfere or allow you to see me, bardic tenants and all that, for the past year. Then all of this happened and well – I got involved. Your epic became big news so they wanted to give it to someone else, Silver Tom, and so they wanted to take it from me. But they couldn’t without me having broken the rules, which I technically did when I got involved in the story. Eventually I stopped deliberately following you, but you were still in the area so I still saw a lot of it. Then –“ here I hesitate unsure of whether to continue.

I see Cat out of the corner of my eye and look up.

She’s staring intently at me, then she slowly nods.

“I know,” she simply says. “They should know too,” she continues.

I nod slowly then take a deep breath.

“After the events in the City of the Dead I overheard a puppet of the Wicked Kings.”

There is a palpable in-drawn breath.

“They were talking of their plans to destroy the world, breaking those that would oppose them. And killing the chosen one and his companions.”

There is a heavy silence at my words.

Then Cat breaks the silence.

“So just to clarify they said the chosen one, as a he, with HIS companions?”

There is an odd note in Cat’s voice.

“Yes,” I slowly say confused.

“Just checking,” Cat says blandly.

“So when you came to me in the clearing after Glorion – “

“Had stabbed you? Yeah, I had been coming to warn you about the Wicked Kings. I had decided to break the bardic tenants and get involved. You didn’t deserve to die, someone had to warn you. Only I was too late to do anything about Glorion. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, that’s fine,” Perf quickly reassures me. “I’m glad you were there at all.”

“So that explains why the bard is here,” Carrow interjects “but not why you are here Lady Warrior.”

“Let Wren finish,” Cat says tightly.

“Yes, well, apart from some details that’s the gist of my involvement. I’m a bard who was watching and following you, only now I’m technically kicked out of the college and – and I don’t know what I’ll do now,” I say discouraged.

A gentle but firm hand rests on my shoulder, then gives it a squeeze.

I look up at Cat and see a kind look in her eyes.

“Don’t worry Wren, we will figure it out.”

I feel another pair of eyes on me and look up into Rilk’s warm brown eyes.

I smile at him and think that even if I just got to meet him on the journey, it was a journey well spent.

“And that brings me to a question of my own,” Daggy suddenly says.

“How exactly do you know each other?” I freeze unsure how to answer and try to stall for time.

“We uh, we, that is to say –“

“Wren,” Cat gently says. I look to her.

She is looking around the room at the people here with us.

“Do you trust them?” She suddenly asks. I follow her gaze.

Do I trust them?

“Yes,” I finally say.

Cat squeezes my shoulder and says “Okay. Then I shall trust them with a bit of our truth. Is that alright?”

I feel her waiting for my approval, but I trust her. I nod my head.

“Wren and I have known each other since birth,” Cat addresses Daggy, but looking at the rest of the group making it apparent that she is referring to all of them in her next statement.

“The information I am about to share with you all could put the both of us in danger and only a very very select few are aware of this information. And by danger I mean the Wicked Kings and their minions, as I am a wanted woman in their eyes. Hence the mask and hood,” she says gesturing to her face. “If you cannot keep this information a secret, I suggest you take time now to leave.” No one moves.

After giving a nod of her head at everyone in acknowledgement of them staying, Cat gives them the simplest version of truth that she can. “Wren is my younger sister.”

A ripple of shock passes through the group and I swear I see Carrow’s eyes widen.

“That explains a lot,” the cleric suddenly says.

My sister chuckles a bit at that and inclines her head in his direction.

I get the feeling that I’ve missed something, but Cat continues before I can dwell on it further.

“Wren is not my only sister though. We have an older sister as well. Apart from my sisters the rest of our family is trash.”

The harsh note of Cat’s voice and the hard look in her eyes prevents any questions about our family being asked.

“Our older sister left many years ago and got married, later Wren.” I close my mouth.

“Eight years ago our family began to speak about…unpleasant things they had planned for me. So I left. I knew Wren was heading for bardic college so I figured she would be safe. I traveled, learned, did…things. Just kept myself busy in a general way.”

My eyes narrow at the very neutral and bland explanation of her last few years. We will definitely be having a talk later.

“Then a year ago I got wind that my baby sister was finally taking her graduation exam. So I decided to follow her. Keep her out of trouble so to speak. Only it wasn’t that easy, since about five months ago I found this.”

Here Cat goes digging through her satchel, then pulls out a stack of papers, before slamming them down on the table.

Hesitantly I begin shuffling through them.

“But – but these are –“ I stammer suddenly horrified.

“Bounties,” my sister interrupts.

“Yes, for the members of this party and myself.”

A tense silence falls over the group.

Cat eventually breaks it.

“Naturally I became much more cautious, even began worrying that maybe I should leave, give you all better chances. The less people being hunted in a group the better, was my thought. Only it hit me then, that Wren could be used either against me or against your group. After all not everyone adheres to the bardic immunity rule. So I decided to continue to follow my sister, to make sure she was okay. Then three weeks ago a merchant caravan asked for my assistance in escorting some precious resources over the Pale Mountain pass. I agreed. I’d been watching for three months and nothing had happened yet. I thought you’d be safe. I’d never have dreamed…” here Cat trails off a frustrated and unhappy look in her eyes.

There is a weighted silence then Carrow says very quietly, “It wasn’t your fault. Our fates are not your concern.”

Cat stares at him a moment, something that looks a lot like sorrow in her eyes.

“I should have been there,” she finally whispers closing her eyes.

Into the silence that falls we hear a slight noise.

Cat picks her head up, somehow realizing the source quicker than the rest, then hurries over to the bed where Nara has begun to stir.

“Come on now, wake up. You’ve slept long enough now,” my sister says a kindly tone to her voice.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Carrow shifting.

Perf stands as if to go to Nara but Daggy gestures for him to wait.

Nara suddenly sits up with a strangled shout of “Perf!”

Turning her head rapidly, eyes wild, the elf calls out “Perf! I’ve got to get to him before – “

As her head turns, her eyes fall on Carrow, and narrow. “You,” she hisses and reaches automatically for a bow that she is not wearing.

“Enough,” Cat tells her firmly.

Nara whips around so fast that she almost falls off the bed.

“Calm down. Perf is fine and here with us. You were injured –“

“Yes, by that traitorous bastard!” Nara shouts pointing at Carrow.

The Cleric gives a loud exhale and leans forward slightly, covering his face with one hand, as the room erupts into chaos.

Only Cat and I remain uninvolved.

Perf is standing up yelling at Carrow about how dare he hurt their friend.

His wild arm gesticulations nearly knock Rilk over, who is glaring at Carrow and muttering in Orkish.

Miad is holding her ax at the ready, looking as if she is just waiting for Carrow to make a move to take off his head.

Daggy looks no better, sending sharp looks at Carrow, all while trying to get Perf to sit back down.

The volume increases until –

“ENOUGH!” roars Cat and everyone shuts up in shock.

Perf drops down into his seat with a start.

“Priest, get over here,” Cat spits out anger contorting her face.

Carrow lifts his head to stare in her direction.

I cannot see his face, but I get the feeling that it’s not a good expression.

“Why? Are you going to put me out of my misery, Warrior?” comes the bitter rejoinder.

Cat’s face contorts for a moment before she says in such a sarcastic tone that I half expect acid to drip out of her mouth, “No, I’m only over here trying to save your skin, nothing beneficial to you at all.”

Surprise radiates around the room, then Carrow states “But I did attack her.”

Before anyone else can speak Cat continues, rage still apparent in every line of her body, “But were you under your own power at the time?”

Everyone freezes for a moment, surprise and bewilderment apparent.

Then Perf tentatively asks “What are you talking about –“ before Cat interrupts him.

“Did I save you from Glorion, Perf?”

Perf looks confused but answers “Yes, you did, but I –“

Cat continues over top of him.

“And did I or did I not revive Nara?”

“Yes, but –“

“Then I need you to trust me. Trust that I might have an idea of what happened and trust that I will get the truth.” Cat’s statement shocks everyone.

After a moment’s pause, Perf sits down once more and simply says, “Ok.”

Cat gives a sharp nod, then says “Get over here Priest.”

Nara looks like a cornered animal, equal parts fearful and angry.

Cat’s hand and furious glower are all that is keeping Nara on the bed still.

Carrow stands up slowly, then cautiously makes his way to the foot of the bed.

Upon reaching it, he slowly spreads his arms out, faces my sister and asks “What now, Lady Warrior.”

Ignoring his sarcasm, Cat addresses Nara.

“Nara isn’t it?”

Upon seeing Nara’s jerky nod, Cat continues.

“Nara. Look at me.”

“But –“ Nara begins to protest wide eyes fixed on Carrow.

“Look at me. Just at me Nara,” my sister tells her, her gentle tone at odds with her thunderous expression.

Nara turns to look at Cat and Cat moves slightly to the side so Nara’s view of Carrow is slightly obstructed.

“Now Nara I need you to think back for me okay?”

Seeing Nara’s nod, Cat continues, “Good good. You are doing so well for me Nara, thank you. Now Nara, I need you to remember something for me. I need you to remember what color the Priest’s eyes and face were when he attacked you, can you do that for me?”

I look around the room. Everyone seems confused at this turn of events.

No one seems to know what is going on.

Even Carrow seems unsure, standing with his fists clenched at his sides and a furrow creasing his forehead.

Nara appears to think for a moment then slowly says, “His eyes were – well they were completely black, no white at all. Like staring into a bottomless hole.”

I freeze and a shiver runs up my spine.

That description sounds creepily familiar.

“And his face was gray, like the gray of a stone. And cracking like it too.”

“I thought so,” I hear Cat say with a sort of grim satisfaction.

“Now Nara, I need you to do me one more favor okay?” Nara nods her head, a little more strength in it now.

“Good. Now I need you to look at the Priest right now and tell everyone what you see.”

Without giving Nara or Carrow time to protest, Cat steps abruptly to the side, leaving Carrow directly in Nara’s line of vision.

Nara recoils a little, but then her eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“His eyes,” Nara begins before trailing off.

“What about his eyes,” Cat prompts an edge to her voice.

“Their blue now. And his face isn’t crumbling and gray like it was before.”

Cat’s head drops towards the floor and her shoulders slump.

I swear I hear a muttered oath and something that sounds like I wish I wasn’t right, but I’m not completely certain.

“I don’t understand,” Nara whispers confusedly.

“That’s because what attacked you before wasn’t fully the Priest. What it is exactly, is hard to describe, but the only thing you truly need to know was that the Priest wasn’t under his own power at the time of the attack. Would you blame him for something he couldn’t control?” Cat asks raising her head and staring at Nara intently.

Nara and Carrow are staring at each other; Nara with conflict in her eyes and Carrow unreadable.

After a long long pause Nara finally replies quietly.

“No I wouldn’t blame him.”

There is a touch of sad understanding to Nara’s voice now.

Carrow’s shocked face says enough about what he had believed.

Poor Carrow, I think to myself.

“Good,” Cat says, a slightly lighter note in her voice now.

“Because it would truly be a shame as the Priest was the one who brought you back after all.”

Nara’s head whips up at that, going back and forth between my sister and Carrow.

“But I thought you said…” Nara trails off suddenly uncertain.

“Yes I am the one who revived you, but the Priest is the reason I even had anything at all to revive in the first place.”

Cat tells her simply.

Then Cat begins to help Nara down from the bed.

Nara, obviously still shocked and shaky, allows her to.

Upon seeing the two women moving, Carrow steps back moving closer to the door, then stopping and folding his arms.

“Now Nara,” my sister continues.

“I need you to go over and sit with Perf and everyone and eat some of the yummy food Daggy prepared for us. Why don’t you sit next to my sister, Wren, Hmmm?”

“Wha- what’s your name,” Nara asks obviously still slightly disoriented.

“I am Catriona, Cat for short. I need you to eat and drink something before you rest again, okay? Healing takes a lot out of the body, you know.”

As Cat is saying this she is slowly guiding the elf over to sit beside me at the table.

Once Nara is seated, she gestures with her head at Perf.

He doesn’t understand, but I do. I lean forward and begin making up a plate for Nara.

My sister nods at me in thanks and a bit of anger leaves her eyes for a moment. Then they harden once more.

“Priest,” Cat says a note in her voice that matches the strength of her eyes, “I think it’s about time you and I had a chat.”

Without waiting for his response she turns to Daggy and Miad saying “You’ll keep an eye on them for me for a few minutes won’t you? I’ll be back very soon and then you can get some rest, I’m sure you were up all night.”

“Uh, sure Cat,” is the hesitant reply.

“Wonderful,” Cat briskly replies canceling the privacy charm with a gesture.

“I’ll be back shortly. I’m sure you are all capable of staying HERE and out of trouble for half an hour, yes?” she addresses to the rest of us sarcastically.

Without giving us time to respond, Cat is snatching up the bag I had seen Carrow with earlier, and storming out the door, pulling Carrow behind her by his stole.

“Keep up Priest,” is the last thing I hear before the door shuts behind her.

Silence permeates the room.

“Well he’s in horse shit,” Perf finally says.

We all nod in agreement, as Nara finally begins to eat.

Chapter 10: Chapter 10 - Cat

Summary:

In which Cat loses her temper

Chapter 10 – Cat

Storming down the hallway of Daggy and Miad’s tavern, Priest of Vieris in tow, it takes all my self-control to not break into a sprint or begin screaming myself hoarse.

What the rutting hell?!

How can She – how can he?!

I can’t handle –

I walk quicker down the hallway, tugging the undead cleric behind me and break out into the midday sunlight.

Noticing his wince and instinctive flinch back, I veer into the shadows gathered at the back of the tavern.

Suddenly stopping I drop his stole, and as he pulls up beside me I toss down two golden x’s and automatically make the sign to initiate the privacy barrier.

As soon as the wards snap up I throw my head back and yell.

“What the –“ I hear the Priest begin to say but continue to yell, until my throat hurts to yell anymore.

Inhaling deeply I finally look at the man who is the cause of my current stress.

He looks taken aback and nervous, but also strangely amused.

With a snarl I grab the front of his robes and drag him down so our noses are practically touching.

Normally this would cause a mini panic attack, but I’m too sodding pissed off to give a damn.

“What was that you said earlier? About you being already dead and that it didn’t matter? Hmm?!”

“Well it doesn’t,” he says pulling back, so he’s not so close now, but I don’t allow him to get far, pulling him back down so we are eye to eye once more.

“Wrong, wrong!” I snarl. “She can do so sodding much to you, you don’t even know the half of it! She bloody well possessed you!”

I know I’m beginning to get hysterical but I can’t help it. This is too…too much.

“I wasn’t myself, but I think possession is a bit far, don’t you think,” he chuckles a mocking tilt to his lips.

“After all I am a dark undead creature now aren’t I –“ I let him get no farther as the rage over takes me.

Smack!

The Priest’s head snaps to the left as the force of my palm hitting his cheek strikes him.

“Don’t you sodding well tell me that load of horseshit,” I rage. “You are more than that and you know it!”

His head slowly turns back to me, his teeth bared.

Which quickly turns to shock, as I don’t let his expression faze me, instead grabbing him once more by his stole and shaking him saying “You are a Priest of Vieris, you sodding fool! Don’t let her lies and their fear turn you into something you are not! You are godsdamned more!”

“Stop being blasphemous,” he roars back at me, finally fed up with my ire and shaking.

“I hate Vieris!” I scream in his face.

The shock on his face snaps me out of my rage.

Realizing that I still have my hands wrapped in his Priests stole I quickly untangle them and step back.

Being careful to not leave the barrier’s perimeter I back up until my back touches the wall.

Tipping my head back and closing my eyes, I breathe deeply for a few moments.

“I’m not going to apologize,” I finally say with a forced calm. “I do hate Vieris,” I quietly tell him eyes still closed.

Hearing his indrawn breath I continue. “But I don’t hate his Priests,” I say finally opening my eyes and looking at him.

His jaw is clenched, as are his fists, but he hasn’t attacked me yet which I take as a good sign.

“Why,” he finally asks when he realizes that I do not intend to say more.

I weigh my options. How much of the truth should I tell him?

I wonder.

Seeing his feet shift, I raise my head and give him as much truth as I am willing to give at this time.

“If Vieris was such a benevolent gracious God, he wouldn’t have cursed me with the life I have had. He wouldn’t have put me in a position of unending sorrow, nor would he have taken so much from my sisters. And he would have forgiven one of his most faithful, for something that wasn’t even his fault.”

The Priest looks away from my face then.

“If Vieris was so great he would have healed you,” I whisper partially to myself, but from his flinch I can tell the Priest hears me.

There is a heavy pause.

Finally I do my best to make amends, as usual.

“I didn’t bring you out here though to talk about religion, or my lack thereof. I brought you out here to determine what exactly the Pale Lady has said and done to you.”

“What of it,” he finally says gruffly.

“She gave you her icon and somehow managed to possess you, enough to make you attack Nara. I need to know what she has said or done so I can help –“

“Help? You can’t help me,” he scoffs.

“You are just a Warrior looking out for their sister. You don’t care about us or our quest and you most certainly don’t care about me!” His last words ring between us. I swallow hard.

“You’re wrong,” I finally tell him quietly, unable to look him in the face.

“This quest, you and your companions…I care about all of it. More than you will ever know.”

“Cat I’m –“ at his use of my name I can’t help but stare at him in shock.

He looks surprised himself, at what I’m unsure.

There is a pause filled with anticipation.

But neither of us move or say anything, simply looking at each other.

Finally I break the awkward showdown, unwilling to further dwell on what just happened.

“Drink more of the tincture,” I tell him softly handing him the bag.

As he obeys me I take a deep breath.

“It’s okay,” I tell him.

“After all you don’t really know me,” despite me knowing you, I finish silently in my head.

“It is a lot to ask you to trust me after only knowing each other a few hours, I know, but I really do need that information. Please.”

After a moment, he appears to come to a decision.

Finishing off the tincture he begins.

“She first came to me after the City of the Dead. She tried to speak to me, but I used the light of Vieris to cast her away.”

My eyes narrow in confusion. That shouldn’t have worked…. “until the light blew my arm off,” he mutters.

That makes more sense I think unhappily to myself.

“Then I summoned an angel of Vieris to defeat the assassin holding us captive.”

“That didn’t end well did it,” I ask him dryly.

“No, it didn’t.” he replies, his mouth a thin line.

“I – I’m fairly certain I helped Perf and the Sword of Fighting defeat him, by removing his nimbus with…death magic.”

“OH YEAH I KILLED AN ANGEL!” comes the excited cry from my waist.

“Not now Fight,” I tell the sword, absentmindedly thumping it on the hilt.

“Ow!” It says.

“You. You have the Sword of Fighting,” the Priest says staring in shock at my waist.

“Hey, hey, hey.” I snap my fingers. “Eyes up here please,” I tell him gesturing to my eyes.

He blinks.

“So the angel was killed, what happened next?” I question to get him back on track.

“Uh. Well the assassin tied us up. I managed to free myself and Nara by…” there is an embarrassed pause.

“What,” I finally ask.

“He pulled his own arms off,” Fight suddenly pipes up.

“You did what now?” I ask the Priest, thumping Fight once more to get him to shut up.

“I pulled my arms off to free myself and Nara,” he finally tells me begrudgingly.

Raising an eyebrow I ask “And….?”

“She praised me for both instances. Called me clever and seemed to take an interest in…is this necessary information?” He finally asks, a definite note of skepticism in his voice as well as a hefty dose of embarrassment.

“Yes,” I tell him shortly not wanting to make him nervous with my reasons.

“Continue,” I command him.

“Yes, your majesty,” he tells me with a mocking smile and bow.

I can’t help the odd feeling that spreads throughout me when he does that.

“Don’t do that,” I tell him shortly.

“Fine, fine, whatever,” he intones a mocking glint to his eye.

“I saw, well something that would cause most men to have a reaction, but I had none. I feel nothing or next to nothing. She saw this and remarked on it. Said something about how I was progressing faster than she thought.”

I freeze. No.

Suddenly frantic I question, “Anything else? Anything at all?”

Pulling back slightly at my sudden questioning he says “Well yes.”

“Tell me,” I order him trying not to let my panic overtake me.

“Okay okay,” he replies gesturing with his hands for me to calm down.

Taking a deep breath in and out, I remind myself that this isn’t the end, that this is just gathering information. That he is still around. That she doesn’t have him.

Yet a traitorous voice whispers to me in the back of my mind.

“I’ve started being able to sense when she was near, which she commented on. She told me I’d make a good revenant. After I was chased off by a member of the town guard, brought on by the local Priest of Vieris, she attempted to commiserate with me. That’s when she left me her icon. She told me to use it if I needed it. She also told me that all men come to her, but not me. I was unique she said. Right around this time it began to hurt to go into the sun and I noticed that I began to act less and less like myself.”

“Like how,” I ask him.

“Saying cruel things to Perf, angry all the time, full of hatred, being much less compassionate, much more violent. Hungry, but not for food.”

There is a look of self-disgust on his face that prevents me asking what exactly he is now hungry for.

Seeing that I’m not about to further comment, the Priest continues.

“I can no longer set foot onto sacred ground. I was able to see the death of everything around me, piece by piece. She told me that she has never lied to me, nor hurt, threatened, or been rude to me.”

I suck in a deep breath. Oh no. I begin to tremble.

“She told me that we wanted the same thing, a return to normalcy.”

I stifle a moan. He has no idea what She’s talking about does he, I think wildly to myself. No idea what She’s leading him to.

“She told me there were ways to be healed, but I should trust my friends first. And then they let me down.”

This is new information.

“What do you mean,” I demand suddenly.

“I mean that they went to an Oracle with the express purpose of finding out whether or not I could be healed and they squandered two of their three questions, with Nara taking the third to satisfy her own vanity,” he growls between gritted teeth.

Ah. Well. That. That is…

“That is terrible,” I finally say out loud.

He looks surprised, but I can’t help but continue.

“Really? They couldn’t even ask a question to help their friend? Unbelievable.”

He shuffles his feet and looks unsure of what to say.

Huh? I suddenly wonder.

“Wonder if Wren asked the Oracle anything,” I say out loud then shake my head. Back on track.

“So they failed to ask your question. Then what?”

“I…well I ran off. While I was away She found me again and told me that Perf was alone, that now was my chance. That the Sword of Fighting was the key to toppling the rule of the Wicked Kings and that Perf was sure to mess it up. She told me that since I feared neither death nor pain I could topple the Kings and free the people, and that then Vieris would have no choice but to take me back. She told me to take the Sword, to kill Perf, and implied that that was what I wanted. Told me..” here he falters.

My heart in my throat, already horrified at the web She has woven around the Priest, I whisper “What.”

“She said that I screamed for it in my dreams.”

I close my eyes and clench my jaw.

“She then told me that if I killed Perf, if I took the Sword, then she would restore me.”

“And how did she say she would do that,” I ask intently.

“She said…She said that she cannot restore life without taking one to replace it.”

For a moment all I can hear is my heartbeat.

Oh.

Oh.

I tune back into the Priests words in time to hear him say, “She told me who better than the one who made me this way. She told me to do this for her and she would help me, heal me. Then she – then she.”

He falters for a moment.

“She what,” I ask dreading what he might say but needing to know.

“She kissed me.”

The world spins about me.

“What,” I gasp in horrified shock and – not the time Cat!

“I felt something filling me up and then I went off after Perf. I found Nara. I abandoned my marks of Vieris and carried her sigil proudly. I told Nara that She could help me and when she insisted that they could help me, I told her I couldn’t stay like this. When she tried to stop me, we fought, she cut me in half and I used the Pale Lady’s sigil to stop her.”

Licking my lips, still feeling overwhelmed by this all, I ask “What spell did you use.”

“Stop,” he simply says.

“You could have killed her, you nearly did,” I tell him horrified at how deep She’d sunk her claws in him.

“Don’t you think I know that,” he yells at me.

Suddenly I realize that for all that his story has been recited calmly, the Priest is far from calm.

Reaching out I gently touch his arm.

“But you didn’t,” I reassure him.

“No. I didn’t,” he says looking down at where my hand is on his bare arm.

My fingers tremble slightly and I curse my own weakness.

“Because of you,” he tells me looking directly into my face. “You brought her back and me as well. Thank you.”

I can feel myself flushing under his intense gaze and swallow roughly.

Looking down, attempting to distract myself, I notice once more the stole of Vieris that he wears.

Gently touching it once more, I ask, “I thought you said you abandoned this?”

He huffs slightly then adjusts the stole on himself, our fingers brushing for a moment, before I pull them back.

“Yes, well. I got them back after you put me back together.”

“Well, that’s good then,” I say with a brightness I don’t feel right now.

“That you have your….stuff now, right?”

He snorts. “I suppose,” he mutters.

Remembering what he’d told me a moment ago, I hesitate.

But I have to try.

“She could help you, that is true.” I feel him look at me sharply, but I focus instead on the mark of Vieris.

Such a simple sigil…

Then I look up. “But the price that she would ask of you would be too high.”

“The life of another – “ he begins before I cut him off.

“No. That is not what I’m referring to. To be restored by the Pale Lady is no true restoration. You would be her slave, a servant to her will, unable to do anything but wallow in Death. Is that what you truly want Priest of Vieris?”

“Then what am I supposed to do,” he asks harshly.

“We will find a way,” I tell him suddenly desperately aware of how close he came to going with her, to succumbing to her.

“What do you want me to do? Just rot away until I’m nothing?!” he yells angrily.

“No!” I disagree with a shout.

“Don’t talk like that, we will find something, I’ve been researching death magic’s – “

“What do you know about it? You aren’t a Cleric or a Wizard. You aren’t even a two bit hedgewitch. You are just a Warrior who enjoys sticking their nose into other people's business. You aren’t any good to me or to anyone! What do you know about it anyway?!”

“Because I’ve already watched one person pay for their mistakes with her and I can’t bear to watch you do the same!” I finally cry out losing my temper.

I stifle a sob.

Suddenly it is too much, all too much. I can’t do anymore. I can’t –

“You are right.” I tell him quietly, unable to look at him.

“I don’t know anything about any of it. Just consider this my good deed for the day than and do what you like with my warning.”

“Wait, Cat-“

“We’re done here,” I tell him firmly, canceling my privacy charms and hurrying away.

Chapter 11: Chapter 11 - Cat

Summary:

In which an unwelcome guest appears

Chapter 11 – Cat

I hurry past the outer wall of the town ignoring the Priest calling to me, making my way to just inside the edge of the forest, not too far from town.

I don’t want to be too far away from them should they need me, but I can’t – I just can’t right now.

Finding a small rock outcropping just off the path, I jam myself in between two rocks.

I rip my hood off, ignoring the slight pain of snagged hair, then more gently remove my mask.

Dropping both to the ground, I finally give in to the urge to scrub my face with my hands.

My eyes are burning but I refuse to cry.

Finding out that there was a bounty on my head was nothing new and honestly not that surprising considering my family.

But the stressful possibility of Wren becoming involved has weighed on me for the past five months.

To top it off, there is Starling’s situation, not to mention the Priest’s.

I clench my jaw until my teeth ache, but it doesn’t alleviate any of the frustration.

It doesn’t matter what I want or what I’d like to have happen, the fact of the matter is that I don’t know how to bring the Priest back, nor keep him from Her clutches if that’s what She wants, particularly when I so barely escaped myself.
And I don’t know how to help Starling. Yes, I know that Fight could be used to kill the Wicked Kings, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that killing them will break the spell. Not all curses are affected by their casters once the spell has left their control.

I knock my head back against the rocks, wishing there was an easy solution to my current problems.

“An easy button for my life,” I mutter disconsolate, tilting my head back to stare at the early afternoon sky above me.

A sudden flapping of wings alerts me to my friends arrival.

“Hello Rake,” I say morosely.

“Are you alright,” my winged friend asks me, his normal bravado and devil-may-care façade dropped in favor of concern.

Letting my head loll to the side I look at my friend. He looks as sympathetic as a raven can, that is to say not very much at all.

Allowing my head to flop back and my body to slide down slightly, I ask “So you saw?”

“Yes,” is the terse reply.

I chuckle at my own folly then mockingly say, “What a fool I was, to expect him, them, to trust me after such a short time, not like I saved their lives or anything now is it?”

“Catriona,” Rake says a softer note in his voice than usual. “It’s not your fault, none of this was.”

I ignore him and continue. “Not like I know them. After all I abandoned my own sister for eight years what could I possibly know about it – “ my torrent of self-disgust is ended when a clump of leaves hits me in the mouth.

Spluttering and spitting, I sit up and glare at my avian companion.

“What was that for?” I growl harshly at him.

“Moping and self-pity don’t suit you, Humie. You are a fighter and for good reason. Most would have given up long ago in your situation, as hopeless as it seems. But not you. It’s not like you to give up now.”

“But the bounties, Fight’s destiny, Starling, and the Priest, I –“

“Can do nothing out here, so you need to get back to it,” is the firm reply.

“It’s hard, but you’ve never shirked from what’s hard before. After all you wouldn’t even be here today if that was what you were like.”

I let out a long sigh.

“I know,” I finally tell him quietly.

“I know but I don’t have to like it.”

“Course you don’t,” Rake says a bit more of his normal jauntiness in his voice now.

“Cause that just means you are more likely to change it. After all that’s what happened in the Ice Pass of the Giants, two years ago, and what happened in the Forest Fires of Anduin four summers ago, and –“
“What happened in the Siege of Connol,” we both say in unison.

“I know, I know, Rake,” I tell the raven, sitting up farther and propping my knees up.

“I’m a miracle worker to most it would seem. It’s just different when it’s people I care about on the line.”

“People you care about huh? You know, you and that undead Priest guy, seemed pretty passionate back there. I mean I thought for sure at one point –“

“Thought what, hmm?”

I freeze.

Slowly lifting my head I see a person, thing, whatever, that I’d hoped to never run into again.

She stands just outside the reach of Fight, her long gray cloak covering her, shrouded in shadow.

The Pale Lady.

Surging to my feet I reach automatically for Protector, but my hand burns like cold fire, and I stop letting out an involuntary scream.

Rake dives at her head, but she waves him off, saying “Begone, pest.” I hear an unhappy squawk as Rake’s forcibly diverted from her.

“Rake,” I call out horrified, seeing his uncontrolled spiral straight into an oak.

Suddenly his flight is stopped.

“None of that, now,” comes the light admonishment.

Then suddenly Rake’s wings are beating double time and he is veering off, winging farther into the forest, his furious squawks echoing.

“You,” I begin furious.

“Yes, me,” She tells me, abruptly in my face.

Restraining the automatic impulse to flinch back, I glare at Her.

“Hello Catriona,” she purrs reaching out to caress my face.

I pull back asking her harshly “What do you want?”

Getting the message she allows me to pull back, but nevertheless continues “Why what I’ve always wanted Catriona.”

“Not going to happen,” I tell her vehemently turning my back to her and stooping down to collect my hood and mask.

“Oh but it will eventually,” She tells me brightly, instantaneously standing on the rocks above me.

“Not for a while yet, if I can help it,” I tell her replacing my hood now that it is clear that my short reprieve has ended.

“Ah, but it won’t be that long dear one, if you continue to involve yourself.”

“I’m not your dear anything,” I mutter.

“Not yet,” she whispers to me gripping my chin in icy fingers.

“No,” I tell her firmly, setting my jaw to prevent my teeth from chattering.

“You’ve refused me before, Catriona, but one day you won’t be able to.”

“You’ll never have me willingly,” I whisper to her unable to prevent the tremble from my voice.

“Ah, but we both know that’s not true. Your compassion, your generosity, your love for others will bring you to me one day. And on that day there will be a deal that you won’t be able to refuse Catriona. I know you. One day I will have something that you want, someone that you want, that you will make a deal for. And then I will have that beautiful power and the soul that controls it in my grasp. One day Catriona.”

And then she is gone.

I close my eyes and try to see if I can sense if she is truly gone.

Nothing.

My eyes snap open and I collapse to the ground no longer able to control the shivers wracking my body.

I cover my face in my hands and curl up in a ball.

It seems my twelve year reprieve was up.

And I knew just what deal I’d be tempted to make.

Notes:

This is my first time publishing any of my works on any sort of sharing site and this is also the first ever project I've attempted to fully complete.
If you enjoy this please like and if possible comment something you are enjoying about the story. If you do not like, well either post constructive criticism - INTENDED TO MAKE THE STORY BETTER - or move along please.
Many thanks and I hope you enjoy!

anifreakazoid

Series this work belongs to:

• Part 1 of Birds of a Feather