The morning of Chaos 30th, 836, Naja and three others stood before Lord Gremmelt. She and the others had all been selected for an investigation request from the town of Waldenhauf.
Two of the men under her command had worked on a Jorging vessel before joining the Order. They were friends as they entered, and always fought side by side. Their experience hunting Jorgfinn on the vast Ennothian sea proved valuable when transitioning to the role of Witch Hunter.
One of the men, Carbrey, had a pale complexion, short, red hair and a thick Wyndegarish accent. The other, Orthos, was around the same height as Carbrey, but had a fine tan and brown hair that fell on his neck.
The last man, simply referred to as Beef, joined the Order only a few months prior. Before he joined, he was just one of many street thugs born to the alleys and slums in the port city of Denmor to the north. Having always been the victim of churlish insults about his red hair and fair complexion, he never seemed to take himself seriously.
Lord Gremmelt sat behind an old wooden table with an arming sword, leather pack, a couple of candles, and parchment before him. Behind him was a bookcase filled with various journals on lore, and a stand that held his shield and mace.
Gremmelt held up the parchment as he read aloud, “The town of Waldenhauf has requested aid from capable Witch Hunters in locating and destroying a werewolf. In addition, a woman has gone missing from town, and livestock has been mutilated.” His eyes moved from person to person, stopping on Naja and locking eyes for a moment.
“You will be the one in charge. If there is a werewolf, it is to be killed and its head brought back to the Keep. If you discover a pack, and feel it necessary, return for reinforcements.”
Gremmelt relaxed in his chair a little and began packing his pipe. “I’ve been to Waldenhauf. It’s small and completely enclosed by woods with only a single road leading in and out. Be careful of the woods—there is a Wolf Clan tribe known as the Greymane who have lived there far longer than we know. Some have taken to banditry, while others have integrated with the Aredesans that live there.”
“Understood,” Naja replied. She had plenty of experience with werewolves after what happened in Sossaboro, though she wished to have at least one more blade to join her. “And what of Ronso? Is she unable to make it?”
Lord Gremmelt shook his head. “No, she has come down with a fever and will be spending the next few days in bed rest.” Lord Gremmelt laughed. “Though we nearly had to tie her down to get her to agree.” A small smile broke on Naja’s face.
“Okay, is that all then?” she asked.
“Not quite. I’d like to remind you how close Waldenhauf is to the Wounded Peaks. Wyverns may land on the road, but they are poor sports in the forest. I suggest, if you do find yourself encountering one, that you take to the woods. It will be hard for the beast to navigate between trees.” Lord Gremmelt reached for his belt and grabbed the Shatterblade that hung there.
“Take this with you. It’s imbued with cold energy and should do the trick. Wyverns, Kobolds, and Crocodilians are all descended from the Great Wyrm Farbox, and each of them carries his weakness.”
Naja took the Shatterblade in her hands and held it carefully. No one in the Order had ever seen one used, and based on what Vassal Altera told them back in Sossaboro, a certain level of risk came with every strike.
“I’ll use it cautiously,” Naja replied.
Its sheath was made of leather and padded on the inside to prevent it from breaking prematurely. She fastened it tightly to her belt beside her own sword. Lord Gremmelt eyed the party for a moment, thinking over something in this head.
“Take this too.” He grabbed an elegant vial that was fastened to his belt, and carefully handed it to Naja. “This contains the Waters of Ay'tala that Bard gave us back in Sossaboro. I don’t think I’ll be needing it here at the keep, and I would rather it go with someone on the hunt.”
Naja took the vial, slid it into her belt pouch and said, “I'll only use this if I have to.”
“Good, if legend serves true, it can turn back a person’s time exactly one day. I looked over some of the lore we have on hand, and spoke to Lord Isle on the subject. By all accounts it is said to heal any wound and cure any calamity. As to the idea of resurrection, well, that is where the consensus splits.”
Lord Gremmelt stood up behind his desk and motioned for the door. “Careful out there,” he looked at the other three. “All of you.” The other Witch Hunters gave a nod in silence.
“It is time,” he said to Naja. “Before you leave, make sure you speak to the smith, an Emburian merchant brought several wares from both Verbosa and Frostolf. They should prove useful for the hunt. I have to see our new Initiate, that boy Eija. It seems Commander Derrik has sprung another whelp on me just as my last takes flight on her own.”
Naja smiled, asking “Has the boy opened up at all?”
“I haven’t spoken to him yet.” Gremmelt rubbed his chin. “ I find it strange that we didn’t pass him on the road to Eddlesreef, but there is more than one way to Witchbane Keep. From what Lord Isle tells me, he arrived a few days before we did with Benard’s arming sword and pack.” He showed her the blade, it was notched from hilt to tip like teeth of a jagged saw. He motioned to the pack which was tattered all along the bottom and sides. “But whatever danger the boy got up to, he’s keeping quiet about it now.”
“What about Blackgrave?” Naja asked. Ever since they returned with the bodies of their fallen kin, whispers of what happened could be found in every corner of the keep.
“We just don’t know,” Gremmelt replied. “Eija didn’t tell us anything we hadn’t already learned. Benard’s last words touched on the Daughters of Chaos, the importance of the number 13, and Blackgrave. As to why it cannot be searched for, there is just no telling what Benard learned while on the hunt.”
He shifted in his chair, pushing his shoulders forward and clasping his hands together on his desk. “If we are to believe the bard, he and Benard had been looking into both the coven and Blackgrave for some time. We’ve always known that his sister fell in with the Daughters of Chaos, but up until what happened in Eddlesreef there hadn’t been a shred of evidence as to their existence, save for Benard himself.” Lord Gremmelt shook his head slightly.
“For now, we continue as we always have. We cannot afford to let our other hunts go to the wayside while we hunt for the Daughters of Chaos. They will make their play again, and when the time comes, we will face them down like anything else.”
Naja nodded in agreement. “Well,” she said to the other Witch Hunters. “Lets buy what we can and take our leave. I’d like to reach Waldenhauf before nightfall.” They all stepped out, but as Naja was leaving she stopped and gave a final look at Lord Gremmelt. He gave her a half smile and she returned it.
“Naja,” he said softly.
“Yes, Lord Gremmelt.”
“Just come back in one piece.”
She nodded and left him to join the others.
It was a short walk through the keep before they were outside. The training pit was being used by two Witch Hunters. They were sparing using dull training swords and had a small gathering of others cheering them on. Beneath the awning on the west side of the keep, a few more looked on while they drank or ate. Naja and the others crossed along the wall and over to the opposing side of the keep where the blacksmith’s shop was set up.
“We should look into the Shabetsu steel while we are here,” Naja told the others as they entered. The smith politely nodded to them as they crossed the counter to the weapons.
“Have you ever used it before?” Orthos asked as he looked over the daggers.
“No,” Naja replied. She picked up a shortsword nearly the same length as her own. It looked roughly the same as her own steel sword, but with a glint of silver along its edge. “I’ve always just stuck with keeping a silver dagger with me, but if we end up running into a pack, it will be hard to rely on something so small.”
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“What about these,” Beef held up a chain hook that was made of black iron. He touched it and quickly recoiled his hand. “That’s hot!”
“All Emburian weapons are,” Carbrey told him. “You ought to be careful when you handle them or you're likely to get burned. But if you master them, they can be deadly in a fight.”
“Let’s not spend too long here,” Naja told them as she finished paying for the sword and a few potions. “Everyone grab a potion of witchbane, I have an extra just in case.” The other three nodded.
Each of them used up their royal stipend on potions and weapons, thanking the smith as they passed.
The smith waved as they left, saying, ”Don’t thank me - thank the King for his generosity!”
It was still morning when their journey began, and with the sun breaking through the trees above them, they were at ease. While they walked, they scanned the surrounding woods; Witch Hunters could make use of almost everything the forest had to offer.
While Naja focused on the road and for any obvious ambushes, the other three had jobs of their own. Beef walked along the right side of the path and looked for herbs and flowers. It was still early into the spring, but some flowers had already begun to bloom and with the right combination they could craft a plethora of different potions or poisons.
Carbrey walked along the left side of the path and watched for any deer, elk, or rabbit they could hunt and use for food. As for Orthos, he was ten paces back from Naja, routinely turning around to check for anyone following them.
They followed the wooded path peacefully for several hours at a steady pace. Waldenhauf was less than a day’s travel and they knew as long as they didn’t stop to rest, they would make it long before nightfall.
Things were quiet until a sudden loud clunk caught Orthos’ attention. He stopped and peered deep into the treeline. There, beside an old dilapidated shack, he saw a figure in a pointy green hood like his own fighting for his life. He couldn’t make out what was happening, but he called for the others and took off running through the brush. Before he broke through the tree line, everyone else was following close behind. All moving together as one cohesive pack.
The man they spotted was backed against the wall of the shack and as they neared, they realized he wasn’t fighting bandits or soldiers, but undead men. Decaying corpses covered in tattered clothes and yellow-stained skeletons dripping with rotting meat carried all manner of weaponry as they surrounded the Witch Hunter. When he saw the others, a flash or relief fell over his tan, sweaty face.
“Summon your flame!” Naja called as she slit her sword across her palm and sent the blade up in a blaze. “Hammers and maces on the Skeletons, fire on those with flesh!”
Naja had learned from Lord Gremmelt that zombies were quick to fall when exposed to fire, and skeletons were only held together by necrotic energy and could be felled easily with enough force.
Beef and Orthos hung back while Naja and Carbrey charged into the fray with weapons aflame. They were outnumbered, but the slow moving bones and dead flesh were no match for a trained Witch Hunter. Naja cleanly decapitated a zombie with a fluid strike, spinning between two skeletons as they swung around her.
Carbrey fought against two zombies in between several trees, using the trunks as cover to shield him from the bolts flung by a skeleton that held a crossbow. Unlike the other skeletons, the crossbowmen was adorned in an old, rusted breastplate and had a matching helmet on his head. The other Witch Hunter lit his sickle aflame with a quick slide across his side. He tore through a zombie’s flesh and it went up in a bright white flame before crumbling to a fine ash in an instant.
Beef, who was still new and held many Doubts within him, tried to draw a bead on the armored skeleton. He raised his hand crossbow and pulled the trigger, but when he did the bolt slid off and the string nearly snapped from the reverberations.
“Shit,” Beef whispered. He desperately loaded another but stopped when he noticed how close the string was to snapping. If I break this now I’ll never live it down. He tied the crossbow to his belt and unwrapped his silver chain hook. He advanced on the skeletons and swung his hook towards the crossbowmen, but he swung too high, and the chain got caught on a branch. A zombie stumbled towards him as he tugged on the chain. Panic stricken, he yanked it as hard as he could and it gave way. But to his horror, only half of his chain came down. The other half had remained in the tree.
Orthos saw the desperate situation and quickly landed an arrow in the zombie’s eye. It fell back and crashed into the dirt with a thud.
“Thanks!” Beef called out before he threw his chain down and grabbed his mace. What is going on today? While the zombie struggled to stand, Beef cracked him over the head, spilling brains all over the ground.
The skeletons’ and zombies’ numbers dwindled down to only a few, and the Witch Hunters were circling in to finish them off. Naja squared up with a zombie but as she swung her blade, her foot snagged on a tree root and she stumbled forward. The zombie slammed into her stomach before she could recover. Air shot from her lungs and she slumped back. A sharp pain echoed through her whole body. She clenched her teeth and steeled herself to continue despite pain resonating with every breath.
“Ahhh!” she screamed and kicked the zombie square in the chest. It slunk back and slowly moved towards her again, but with a single quick turn and a firm grasp on her sword, the zombie’s head fell. With only the heavily armored skeleton remaining, the Witch Hunters rushed it together and quickly destroyed it. Naja held her side firmly and knew the wound was greater than a simple strike.
“Are you okay?” Carbrey asked, and Naja nodded.
“Just a fractured rib. It shouldn’t slow me down too badly.” Naja wiped the pain from her face and looked at the other Witch Hunter. She hadn’t gotten a good look at him during the battle, but now that things were calm she could clearly see his face. It was Cha’Rak, a Crow Clan man who had been with the Order since it was legitimized by King Aylin Elrik II.
“What happened here?” she asked.
Cha’Rak caught his breath. “Akecheta, Ra’Selas, Everette and I have been chasing after an Ashenmancer the last few days.” He motioned into the woods away from the road. “When we found him he surprised us with an army of undead at his disposal. During the frenzy, I was separated from the others and had no choice but to retreat. I don’t know if the others made it out, but we agreed to meet in Waldenhauf if we ever were split up.”
“Where did you fight him?” Naja asked.
“First, at a cave somewhere along the Wounded Peaks. Then again when we fell back. He had many still outside the cave in the woods waiting for us.”
“Well we're heading to Waldenhauf now if you’d like to come with us,” Naja told him. “There might be a werewolf in town, so it's unsafe to travel alone.”
Cha’Rak nodded. “Let's burn these bodies before we continue. I don’t want to leave anything behind for the Ashenmancer to use.”
“First, let me get a chunk of flesh from one. I’ll use it to figure out if there are any more once we get to town.” Naja spun her shortsword and the flame that clung to it dissipated before she sheathed the blade. She took out her silver dagger and cut off one of the zombies fingers before placing it in an empty vial.
“Blasted Boney Jacks and Rotten Marys, the whole lot of them,” Carbrey said as he stepped around and burned the rest. Orthos helped Beef fish the remaining half of his chain hook out of the tree and he looked over the damage to his hand crossbow.
Orthos shook his head and sighed. “Hopefully someone in town can repair these. I have some tools I could use to maybe mend the chain, but you’ll need a new string for this.” Orthos gave Beef back his hand crossbow.
“Great!” Beef said sarcastically. He shook his head. “Hey Orthos,” he asked.
“Yes?”
“How come he,” he gave a slight motion towards Cha’Rak because he didn’t hear his name, “was able to completely turn that zombie to ash, and what was up with the flash of white flame?”
“Every Witch Hunter has their calling, and depending on what it is will change what they focus on. Did you see how Naja cut that zombie's finger off and stuffed it in a vial?” Beef nodded. “She already has the Arcane touch, so learning and casting rituals are easy for her. She uses those rituals to aid her in rooting out curses and strengthen herself in battle. Sure we all carry the ability to call the flame, but her training has been tempered to combating witches. Cha’Rak, on the other hand, is a spiritual man by nature. So he tempered his flame to combat the Curse of Undeath.”
“When will I get taught these tricks?” Beef asked.
Orthos laughed and patted Beef on the back. “Maybe when you stop breaking your weapons.”
The two of them joined the others and saw to burning the remains until everything was ash. It was past midday when they finished up, and with sunlight only remaining a few more hours, the five of them pressed on to the town.
Waldenhauf was just as Lord Gremmelt had said. Only one road led into it, and the entire city was in a large clearing in the shape of a circle. The road ran directly to a large church that was surrounded by a chest-high hedge bush that grew all around and opened up into small circles used for prayer.
Lining the hedge, and found all throughout the large garden that surrounded the church, were various flowers of many shades. Many were still yet to bloom. High up on the front wall of the building was the sixteen-pointed sun painted in gold.
Several large buildings made from stone or dark wooden logs circled the garden and church with their backs facing inward. There was the town’s gathering hall, an inn known as The Reunbaum, the general store, a smith's home and forge, and an elven woman’s shop that crafted bows and other wooden weaponry.
All of the homes of Waldenhauf were built up against the woods facing the church. The houses circled the entirety of the town, with some built closer together than others.
“I am going to head to the tavern and wait for my companions to return,” Cha’Rak said to Naja. “If you need me, that is where I will be.” He gave the others a silent nod from beneath his hood before leaving them.
“I reckon that big building is the gathering hall—probably our best bet.” Carbrey gestured towards the large building to the church’s right. “Might even find out who's in charge and be pointed in the right direction,” he added.
“I’d like to get my crossbow looked at before it gets too late, and I need to see about fixing this chain up at the smith's,” Beef said. “Let's just hope this town has some silver.”
“Fine,” Naja replied. “Orthos you go with him, Carbrey you're with me.” Orthos nodded and they all headed off.