[Tariel POV]
As soon as he saw what Lierthan was so angry about, Tariel stood tall and began to rush forward to the head of the damned Alniyh’s tortoise. He couldn’t stop himself from jumping down from the massive shell and even before he hit the ground, Tariel began a Windcalling that pushed him forward at a blistering pace. Behind him, Tariel heard Lierthan call for him to slow down and wait for the rest of the troop, but he refused to. Instead, Tariel reinforced the Calling and blasted forward, lightning accompanying his every step.
In less than a minute, Tariel reached the smoking remains of the merchant camp that had set up within the mostly deserted township. He’d heard that this had once been a burgeoning city-in-the-making, but after one of the Moonchildren’s Bloodpriestesses staged a series of midnight assaults and slaughtered dozens night after night, the civilians had decided that the potential for profit on the Veratocracy’s most dangerous border wasn’t worth their lives.
Tariel feared for the worst when he saw the column of smoke choking the sky, but as he arrived at the destroyed camp, he realized that there didn’t seem to be a massive amount of casualties, only a single funeral pyre smoldering in the middle of the camp. The cracking thunder had announced his arrival, and the leader of the merchant caravan seemed to relax as he saw Tariel’s arrival. He was a fairly fit looking man, his shoulders broad under his fine travel stained clothes. His hands were covered with soot, and he leaned down and brushed them through the grasses a couple times before extending his hand and then, when Tariel stood at attention, let his hand fall awkwardly as he began to speak. “Praise be to the Gran Verat!” he cried out. “I don’t know how we survived those beasts’ attack, but I’m sure they’ll return soon. What is your name, soldier?”
Tariel snapped a quick salute at the merchant at the confirmation of the keelish attack, but was sure to retain proper decorum, as he was certain he was being watched by his commander and the rest of his troop as they continued to approach. “Captain Tariel Nahr. The Lieutenant Colonel will be here soon to speak with you. Are there any nearby?”
“Well, it’s been almost a day since they attacked, so I don’t know… Lord Nahr! I’m so sorry, I didn't recognize you!” The merchant bowed his head, and Tariel couldn’t help but quietly sigh at the show of respect. He supposed he was lucky that this person hadn't immediately prostrated himself. He waved a hand as the merchant continued, "We met at one of your family’s balls five years ago. I was there with the Waikala group?”
“We’re here, nearly at the border of the Wilds. I don’t think it’s wise to dwell on parties long past. Please, treat me as a captain in the army. The keelish attacked yesterday?”
“Yes, they–how did you know that they were keelish? I haven’t–” the man cut his question off. “I apologize, I only trained for combat in the Red Abbey, I never trained with the military, so–again, I apologize. Yes, hundreds. They came in the dead of the night, though I don’t know how or why we escaped their wrath. Frankly, we should have all died.”
“Tell the Lieutenant Colonel when he arrives.” Tariel didn’t care to listen to the man’s nattering, resolving to finally begin to take action. “I’ll begin scouting to see if they are still close.” The fear that Tariel had kept perfectly bound within began to slip its restraints, and he couldn’t help but worry that the frontlines would be ambushed from behind weakening them for an assault from the Nightchildren. Tariel didn’t listen to the words that the merchant spoke as he rushed off into the nearby forest.
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[Ashlani POV, the night before]
It didn’t take long to make our decision on what to do here. While we could benefit from killing all these humans, we couldn’t guarantee that there wouldn’t be any powerful Speakers nearby. If there were High Speakers, there was a chance that we could kill them, but we would have to pay a bloody price to do so. A part of me wanted to, to exhaust a High Speaker with waves of keelish until I could come in and seize the final kill, but the vast majority of me was quickly able to quash that hasty part of me. Maybe I could do that, and I would progress in some [Quest], but doing so would weaken the swarm as a whole. I couldn’t think of myself as a creature divided from the body of the swarm, not if I wanted it to grow to become a civilization, a true people.
With a personal determination for greater wisdom, I’d led the swarm in skirting around the dilapidated city right as night fell. There was only so much we could do to ensure that we remained undetected, since there were hundreds of bodies stalking through the night. Fortunately, with the exception of the few goats that Joral had still managed to bring with us, our number was made of ambush predators, so we made our way onward without much fuss. The Wave Wolfstags disliked the mostly dry ground we now found ourselves on, but even they made their way quietly onward.
I was confident that we could make our way completely past the camp without alerting anyone. I wasn’t thinking about anyone who was in the forest away from the camp.
Joral had been herding the goats alongside the fringes of the swarm ever since he’d captured them. He could keep them much calmer that way, since they weren’t fully surrounded by keelish that obviously wanted to eat them. The first indication that the plan wasn’t going according to plan was when one of the goats began to range a little further away from the herd than the rest, investigating some bush for a tasty morsel of something. Later, Joral told me that, since we were staying silent, he was struggling to call the goat back silently when it suddenly screamed and collapsed.
It didn’t take long to see the arrow shaft sticking out of its neck, and when Joral had looked around to see the source of the shot, he had locked eyes with the human who was happily climbing down from a nearby tree. Near as we could tell, they hadn’t known we were there, but as Joral charged out of the darkness to strike the hunter down, the man screamed, his voice amplified by a weak Windcalling. His voice echoed through the woods, and as I rushed to see what had happened, rallying cries went up from within the ruins of the city.
Once I arrived at the scene of the goat’s death, Joral had already long since killed the hunter.
“Don’t think it could see me.” Joral said as I stepped closer, his tone uncaring. “While it screamed, I ran in and ripped its throat out. It didn’t think about using its weapon. Are you sure these are the same ‘humans’ you don’t think we’re ready to fight?”
I sighed, pissed that our cover was blown. “Gather the bodies. Don’t want the humans to find them, and we might as well eat our fill. And yes, this one…” I couldn’t hide the distaste that rose in me at the idea of this spectacularly weak specimen, “is a disappointment to his people.”
Without another command, the swarm gathered the two bodies and we redoubled our speed into the forest, running ever further east, away from the Veratocracy and towards the promise of Nievtra.