Liam had never felt so confident. These Orcs would soon die by his blade, as would the Vampyre.

He would rescue the Lord of the Keep and the captives would laud him as a hero!

As he took a step forward, the grin still on his face, Liam felt a tug at his leg. The hook of the bill he’d so easily dodged moments before had been pulled tight against his ankle. In an instant the Orc wielding the weapon dragged him off balance.

The unexpected move showed Liam he still had a great deal to learn, and he felt rage boiling up as fell to the floor in a clatter of armour. A distant part of his mind registered shock at being so easily knocked to the ground, but his anger grew to overwhelm any conscious thought. He narrowed his eyes as he looked up at the Orc.

He would make it pay.

Raising his shield to deflect a spear thrust from a second Orc, Liam swung Lehat Chereb in an arc at the pole that now held his ankle raised off the floor. The burning blade smashed through the wood, sending a shower of smouldering splinters into the face of another orc who was charging towards him. It was about to leap when the splinters struck, as did a quick casting of flame, which ignited the wood.

The Orc bellowed in pain as the twin assaults burned into its flesh, but it didn’t cease its assault. Its spear lunged forward, striking Liam’s chest and skidding off the Mythril to slam into the stone of the floor. Liam brought his shield up to protect him from the second thrust as he tried to rise.

He felt something strike his head, looking towards the orc who wielded the now broken billhook. It had thrown the haft of its broken weapon at his head and now stood staring at him in sudden fear. Liam snarled as it backed away.

He fended off another blow from the spear as he rolled to one knee. As he rose, he glanced over his abilities. The ease with which they had knocked him to the ground infuriated him. Liam felt a growing need to embarrass these creatures as he slew them. They deserved humiliation.

He needed to make them bleed.

He would use his two shield abilities. From what he knew, they would automatically strike the target, regardless of any other actions. Covered strike he knew would allow him to hide the direction of a thrust or slash from his blade from his opponent, while he wasn’t sure what Parry could do in a situation like this.

Activating the Parry skill, he supposed now was the time to find out.

The next blow from the Spear Orc nearly cost Liam his life. He was so focused on parrying the spear that he’d not noticed the other Orc pull a hand-axe from its belt.

A flash of dissonance from his magic sense warned him just in time. Leaning back just enough that the axe struck the pauldron guarding his shoulder, Liam took a step back into the doorway.

There was no point trying to fight while surrounded by foes. It was better if he reduced the number of angles he had to worry about.

Resetting his guard, Liam parried the charging orc's axe with an angled shield. The axe clanged off the Mythril rim, tilting it back further so that it slammed into Liam’s unprotected head, dazing him briefly just as he activated his Parry ability.

The next blow slammed into the shield and Liam reacted on instinct. Driving the axe to one side, he saw an opening.

Raising the shield slightly, he brought its lower edge down.

Hard.

The ovoid shield slammed into the Orc’s shins just above the ankle, splintering bone and causing the orc to stumble back in pain. It crashed into the Spear-Orc with a howl, knocked to the floor by its enraged fellow as it charged Liam, spear couched.

With another step, Liam activated his Covered Strike ability.

Next, he brought his sword up behind the shield. Its point angled up.

Liam thrust the shield forward once more, slamming the Aesium layered barrier into the spear just as the Orc lunged.

The force applied by the Aesium caused the spear haft to splinter, forcing the orc to stop its charge in confusion.

The confusion on its face lasted less than a second as Liam’s shield dropped to reveal the thrusting tip of Lehat Chereb. His burning blade slamming through the Orcs ugly face.

Liam wasn’t sure what to expect from the ability. When he saw the effect, he was stunned.

The Aesium coating the core of his blade expanded the wound channel instantly, tearing the Orc’s head apart as though made of rotten fruit instead of flesh and bone.

Liam was so stunned at the effect that he almost forgot about the wounded orc at his feet. A meaty hand grabbed his ankle, however, and nearly pulled him off his feet once more. With an enraged cry, Liam slashed down, removing the arm at the elbow. He thrust down once, ending the orc’s misery.

The room had grown quiet now, and Liam looked around the small corridor he found himself in.

Ahead rooms stretched to the left and right of him, and at the end of the hall a stairwell lay, leading both up to the second floor of the keep, and down to the cold larder. His magic attunement told him that four humans yet lived below, as well as something deeply dissonant.

It must be the Vampyre.

Liam knew that if he was to secure the prisoners, he’d need to kill every wicked thing in this desecrated keep. Most of the Orcs were upstairs and seemed to mill around one larger figure. Liam could sense the power radiating from it.

He could feel a rage bubbling in him he’d never felt before. He rubbed at his chest as he felt it itching at his skin, and he let out a roar of challenge.

Another orc was coming down the hallway, this one armoured in a heavy chainmail that ran from neck to knee. At least some of these orcs were better equipped than their peers.

He inspected it quickly.

Orc Bloodguard

Level 23

Health 2000/2000

Liam knew that this was an opponent worthy of his time.

He grinned viciously as he stepped forward to meet its charge, thrusting his shield forward to intercept the orcish battle-axe. The axe slammed into Liam’s shield, and he had a hard time keeping it faced towards his foe.

Once more Liam activated his Parry ability and with the fingers of his sword hand strummed the harp of Bragi once more. This time he channelled Inferno around the Orc, causing its armour to turn a light yellow and burn the cloth padding beneath. The orc roared in response to the pain and redoubled its efforts to break past Liam’s shield.

The slower movement speed of bearing the shield was currently acceptable in the tight confines of the entry hall, and Liam parried each blow aside. His opponent's heavy wooden shield rebuffed Liam's answering thrusts and slashes, although the damage he inflicted upon the wood was showing.

As he parried another blow, Liam stepped forward and used Feinting Slash. The effects of his ability were different now, held the blade with a shield equipped. He stepped forward into the reach of the Orc and slammed the shield forward, knocking his opponent’s shield to the side. Slashing forward with a cut to the neck, Liam found his blade unexpectedly blocked.

The orc had somehow swept its battle axe around Liam’s guard, hooking his shield down. The dark-metal haft of the axe held at an angle to bind the burning Mythril blade.

Liam expected his sword to cut or at least damage the Orc’s weapon, but the black metal of the haft was unmarred.

“You use Mythril human!” The Orc said as it maintained the bind. “Have you discovered another dungeon? The Master will pay the Chief well for such knowledge!”

Liam’s fury mounted at the challenge implicit in the Orcs voice. As the Orcs shield rim flew towards his head, he bent backward and simultaneously kicked out, pushing off the Orcs body. The move tore the Battle-axe free from the Orcs grip as Liam flew back, his shield rim still anchoring the blade of the weapon.

Liam nearly dropped Lehat Chereb as he landed but clung on. The Orc gave a bellow and charged forward as Liam struggled to his feet. It seemed to want to use its shield as a weapon to smash Liam into the stone doorframe. Liam looked about quickly and realized his greatest skill still had not been used.

He reached out with his telekinetic field and lifted the battle axe behind the Orc. As it slammed into his shield, Liam brought the blade slamming forward. Its relative speed was immense and as Liam felt the air rush from his lungs, a spray of warm black blood spattered his face.

The Orc stumbled back, also dazed from its charge, but also confused. It reached up to feel at the weapon protruding from its thick skull and Liam stared as it pulled the weapon out in a fountain of blood and gore.

He couldn’t let this opportunity pass, however, and Liam, out of breath and bruised, pushed off the wall and lunged with all his strength. His weapon slamming into the Orc's torso just below the rib cage.

He angled the point of the weapon upwards as the Aesium core forced black steel links apart. Liam felt the convulsions of the orc’s heart as it shuddered to a stop. Then watched in awe as the aesium tore the bisected organ to shreds.

Liam chuckled at the look of rage on the orc's face. It quickly faded into slack disbelief as the Orc died.

Liam had never felt so empowered in all his life.

He took a step forward and doubled in pain, clutching at his chest.

Something was wrong. He stumbled against the wall and tore at his armour before remembering he could store it within his ring without having to take it off.

Doing so, he also stored his mail and then tore open the neck of his undershirt, staring down at his chest in horror.

There, embedded in his flesh, was one of the thin claws of the Vampyre.

He pulled at it and almost threw up as pain threatened to overwhelm him. Looking down, Liam could see that the nail had formed barbs that now protruded from his skin. Pulling on the nail only seemed to embed the barbs deeper into his flesh. Releasing the claw sent another shock of pain through him, and the claw seemed to thicken as he watched.

It was growing within him!

He howled in fury, gripping the barbed claw with his fingers once more. Liam stopped himself before he pulled at it.

Liam sheathed his sword and leaned the shield against the wall. For what he planned, he’d need both hands.

Setting the blade of Camwennan against his own chest, Liam plunged the blade into his own flesh. The dirk pushed through his skin, cutting down to the barbs. Each slice causing pain far beyond what he thought he’d encounter. He screamed as he pressed the knife through the muscle of his chest.

He knew this shouldn’t hurt him this much, but somehow, the claw was amplifying the pain he felt. Gathering his will, Liam pushed the dirk deeper. He knew he had little time. A clattering from the stairs drew his attention, and he bared his teeth, his desire to kill again growing within him.

More Orc's appeared before him, and Liam pulled the dirk from his flesh and Lehat Chereb from its scabbard. He lunged forward, wearing armour only upon his arms and legs.

A distant part of Liam knew he was being foolish, but he could no longer control his battle lust.

He fell upon the nearest Orc in a frenzy of fire and blood. Its fellows pushing forward, trying to get past its armoured bulk to surround Liam. Their advance was blocked as Liam’s mad unarmoured charge knocked the Orc back into the narrow stairway, blocking the way into the entry hall. Lehat Chereb swept down, severing the Orc’s arm at the elbow and forcing it to drop its sword.

It looked up in horror at Liam, seeing only death approaching. It desperately thrust out its shield to knock Liam away, but he simply ducked the blow, stepping in close. As he moved, Liam thrust his sword through the Orc’s arm, separating the thick corded muscles of its bicep with a horrific snap.

As he lunged, Liam slammed his dirk repeatedly into the orcs neck. causing geysers of black blood to coat him from head to toe. He relished the look of death coming to the Orcs eyes. Its blood tasted… Sweet.

A blow to his chest made Liam look down and he saw a spear thrust over the orc’s shoulder had slammed through the right side of his chest. It was buried deep into his lung.

Liam almost didn’t mind the pain, but a moment later, he coughed blood. He coughed again, staring as his own red blood mixed with the black of the Orcs.

He marvelled as he felt no pain, but then a sharp twisting agony jolted through the claw in his chest. In an instant, Liam came to his senses. Staring up the stairs past the still dying orc, terror flooded him. The remaining Orcs were pushing forward. As soon as this Orc fell, he was doomed.

The surge of terror warred against his bloodlust. Fighting the desire to kill, Liam froze up for a moment.

The spear twisted in his chest as the Orc dragged it out of his flesh and more red blood splashed across the stone steps. The sight of it was enough to snap him out of his fugue as the pain of the wound dropped him to one knee.

He felt at his shoulder, his fingers touching the spear wound there as the dead Orc toppled forward.

Out of time, Liam did the only thing he could think to do.

He activated Camwennan’s ability.

Then, cloaked in shadow, Liam fled.

The Orcs shoved past their exsanguinated companion and tried to pursue, but as Liam entered the courtyard, they stopped. The gloom of night now covered the courtyard in an inky darkness.

Liam moved slowly as the Orcs glared about at the shadows, trying to find him as he crept towards the ruined tower.

One of their number sniffed at the air, and Liam’s breath caught–thinking it might smell his location. The thunderous sneeze that echoed across the courtyard put him at ease.

Liam crept up the staircase and into the ruined tower, where he sat for a moment, cancelling Camwennan’s ability and taking stock. Something was wrong with him. He’d lost control completely and almost died!

It must be the barb! Liam thought, rage clouding his mind once more. He took a deep breath and forced himself to calm down. He’d get his vengeance later.

Liam used Magical Attunement to search out his surroundings. He could sense five figures clustered around the doorway into the keep. The closest was still within the group, and all seemed to be reluctant to move from the light of their torches.

Safe for the moment, Liam returned to removing the barbed claw.

His healing song spell had long since worn off as Camwennan cut free the remaining barb, and Liam pulled the splinter of claw from his chest. He immediately felt drained, as though removing the object was sapping his will. He inspected the claw as it came out, blood running freely down his chest.

Vampyre’s Mark.

The claw of an evolved Vampyre. This claw marks its foe, embedding itself in their flesh.

This Item is cursed.

Curse Effects:

-1 Faith per minute.

Pain reduction: 80%

Bloodlust.

Vampyre is aware of the location of the victim.

Additional Effect:

The Vampyre’s Mark causes a change to the victim’s mind. The longer the mark infects their flesh, the more they reflect the will and desires of the Vampyre who infected them.

Soul wounds may occur if removed without magical support.

Curse and additional effects end when the item is removed.

Liam swore softly. He’d managed not to cry out as he cut the Mark from his chest, but now he suddenly noticed the fear and disgust it held at bay.

A sob nearly escaped his lips, but he covered his mouth, restraining the horrors of his recent actions. For the next few minutes, Liam continued to pluck barbs from his flesh, matching each to a cut stem. He needed to make sure that he got all of this hellish item out of his body.

The words of the vision assured him that the rage-filled actions he’d taken reflected the Vampyre’s will rather than his own. It worried him that the Vampyre’s desires had found a ready home in his heart. He had relished the feelings of power the rage gave him, and even now he was tempted to embrace that rage again.

What was worse, he’d acted on his rage before the Vampyre even marked him with its claw.

He knew the entire invasion of the keep had been an emotional decision spurred by his desire to be a hero. Nothing about his attack resulted from prudent planning or thought. Rather, he’d let fear for his friends kindle his anger. That anger had burned into rage when he overheard the callous words of the men in the gatehouse.

He was lucky he had faced foes that were so far beneath his level. If he’d tried this with enemies at his own level, it was likely he’d already be dead.

Hoping to reassure himself that the vision was accurate, Liam looked over his Attributes. He could see his Faith had dropped significantly. He had not kept track of the attribute, thinking that it was merely a reflection of his piety. Now, however, he felt the change. It was as though he had become less connected with his own soul.

The feeling was odd to Liam. Different from how the mark had affected him. It weakened him. As he cast healing song, he watched as the wounds on his chest knit together.

Oddly, the location where the barb had been pulled formed into an ugly scar, raised and broken as though the flesh beneath did not remember how to heal. The spear-wound–which seemed worse–healed perfectly.

Looking at the difference in how his wounds had healed, Liam thought he understood what had happened.

He was experiencing the effect of a soul wound. His body could not recover as long as his soul was damaged.

He grimaced at the idea that the enemy had weapons that could affect his spirit to such a degree. These were far more dangerous than any he’d ever heard of before.

Now the barbed claw was out of his chest. He could already feel the difference in his emotions. Now he was thinking with greater clarity.

Back in control of his feelings, Liam knew he never wanted to lose control of himself again. He let out a slight sob of relief. He’d never felt that intensity of rage or hate before, and through killing, he felt it somehow completed the cycle of horror.

It was as though the Mark had nourished all the worst qualities of human nature. And it had found those qualities within him. Anchoring itself in the worst of who he was. What he could become.

Liam knew that if he wanted to protect himself against future attack, he would need to better understand those parts of himself. But meditation could wait. For now, he needed to rescue the people still trapped by the Vampyre and orcs.

Slowly, Liam reached out with his Magic Attunement, reassuring himself that the Orcs in the courtyard below were not approaching the tower.

He could sense where they were. The monster's attention was on the now empty courtyard, and Liam could sense the fear rising within them.

Of course! They have no way of knowing what happened. He thought. To them some berserk warrior just stormed the keep alone after defeating forty humans and a Vampyre!

He could use that fear, but he wasn’t sure he had to.

He could hear them bickering, and tried to listen in, but the guttural tones told of a language far different to anything he’d heard before.

Liam lay his back against the stone wall and took a deep breath. Lacing up his undershirt as best he could, he replaced his chainmail and armour. He’d had to leave the shield behind as he retreated. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to recover it for now, and so he planned how he’d rescue the trapped humans.

The most worrying thing he remembered was the sense of power emanating from the rooms above. He thought it was probably the Orc chief.

Liam wasn’t sure even the Cave-Troll he’d faced could defeat him. Maybe even the Troll of Glistening falls would have trouble.

For Liam, it was a simple decision. Whatever he did, he’d need to avoid that creature and its minions as much as possible.

He’d have to go straight for the Vampyre, defeat it, and then fight his way free with the prisoners.

That is, if they were in any state to move.

Damn. Liam thought. I can’t just leave them though!

He’d seen what the Orcs had done to the villagers outside. Liam could only imagine what horrors the Vampyre had inflicted.

But there was another way. Liam withdrew the Map of the Master dungeon and carefully read it, memorizing the locations described by the parchment.

The map showed a network of tunnels that lay beneath Berwick. Its entrance lay upon a hill just outside the town.

At a place called Halidon.

Ensuring he knew the location and the path through the tunnels by heart, Liam stood, drawing Lahat Chereb and activating its burning flame. He cast Ward and Healing Song and stepped out into full view of the Orcs below.

“Gath-Fol!” One of the orcs cried out, pointing up at Liam with its spear. More shouting followed as the other orcs formed a defensive knot around the entrance of the Keep.

Holding his position atop the wall, Liam shouted down at them. “HOLD! I wish to speak with your Chief.”

The force of will behind Liam’s voice caused the Orcs to pause in shock. One, taller than the others, shook his head. “Why, human? You kill the Bloodguards! Why should we listen?”

Liam took a gamble, hoping that the Chief’s greed outweighed the desire for combat.

“I wish to trade. I know your chief is powerful, and a battle between us would weaken us both. Perhaps so much the Vampyre could take our experience. I offer the location of a Master dungeon.”

Orcs nodded. It seemed that they disliked the Vampyre too. A larger orc ducked through the door of the keep, turning its massive shoulders side-on to fit. It was armoured in a thick, black breastplate of dark steel. The design was something Liam had never seen before, being what looked like a single piece of metal held with straps to the chest of the Orc.

Chainmail protected its flanks, falling to below its knee. Heavy boots crunched in the courtyard's snow as the Orc turned to face the wall where Liam stood.

“Speak then, human.” The Orc bellowed.

Liam quickly inspected the monster. It stood a foot taller than its fellows, and large yellowed tusks sprouted from its heavy lower jaw.

Gurtak of Arashu,

Race: Great-Orc.

Class: Chieftain.

Level: 41

Health 6392/6392

As he’d suspected, the Orc out levelled him by a considerable amount. Its health was beyond anything Liam had encountered so far. Likely the result of its ascended form.

“I offer you a trade. The location of a dungeon on this planet for you and your tribe to leave this keep!”

The orc folded its arms. No armour covered them, and the muscles bulged through the skin. Liam had never seen arms so powerful. These were the size of his torso. Veins bulged and Liam knew that even his Mythril armour could not withstand that kind of power.

“What makes you think I can’t kill you and take it from your corpse, Human?” The Orc growled.

Liam bent down and retrieved the barbed claw. “You know what the Vampyre is capable of.” Liam began. “If we fight, I will kill your remaining Bloodguard and will at least wound you. What makes you think the Vampyre won’t take the opportunity to gain a few levels by slaying you?”

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The orc considered for a moment, and Liam knew he had him. “My death will not provide you with much experience, but access to a dungeon will. Even if you sell the information, it is worth far more than this Castle to the one you call ‘Master’. Perhaps enough for it to grant you anything you wish.”

The Orc roared. “He is not my Master.”

It paused, clearly thinking for a moment. “You will give me something else too! You have slain four of my warriors. I will take your shield as wergild.”

Liam agreed without hesitation. The shield was a burden he no longer needed, and it still lay within the Keep. If he refused, they could simply take it, anyway.

“Done!” he said. He realized he could enforce this deal using the System.

“I need you to swear you will depart and not return once I leave you the map! I swear by God that I shall not follow or try to reclaim it from you!”

Liam glowed as the system accepted his oath.

The orc chuckled. “Done!” It swore the oath. “We shall leave in ten minutes. Leave the scroll at the gatehouse and we will depart.”

Liam nodded, watching the glow surrounding the orc fade. He wasn’t sure he could trust the creature, but it was worth the chance. He knew he had little hope of slaying the monster directly, and his options and time were limited.

Ten minutes later, the surviving orcs marched from the keep. Their Chieftain in the lead.

Liam was standing in the gate of the curtain wall and placed the Map of the Master Dungeon upon the ground. Phase-shifting once more to the wall above.

“I honour my bargain Chief Gurtak!” Liam yelled down.

The Orc Chieftain slammed a thick palm to its chest. “I too, human. You bargain with honour. May your death bring it too.”

With those words, the Chieftain bent down and picked up the scroll before marching through the gate with his guards and leaving Liam alone on the wall.

As he did, Liam saw a vision appear before him.

Congratulations:

You have traded the Castle: Cadzow with the previous owner Gurtak of Arashu.

As the new owner of Cadzow Castle, you may make upgrades.

Current population 5/5.

Warning: If you lose control of the keep to forces not sworn to you, Ownership privileges will be lost.

Happiness: Dismal

Wealth: Bankrupt.

Condition: Sacked.

Liam stared in shock at the message. He'd not intended to take control of the Keep. Besides, the Lord of Cadzow was the rightful owner. If he could rescue him or any of his kin, Liam determined to transfer ownership back to them.

An icy wind blew over the battlements as Liam realized he was now alone in the keep with the Vampyre and her prisoners. At least now he stood a chance of rescuing them.

Putting his coif up and equipping his helm to minimize the amount of chain exposed, Liam moved back into the main hall of the Keep.

He could sense through his magical attunement the prisoners were still alive, although one seemed to fade from his senses. It was the smallest form. Likely a child.

The sense of dissonance grew as Liam hurried down the stairs down into the cold larder. He had little time if he wanted to save them.

A stench of rotten flesh and death rose from the place, and Liam nearly gagged as it permeated his senses. He moved slowly, Camwennan and Lehat-Chereb drawn. He had activated Camwennan’s ability but kept the active flame ability off for the moment. He had no desire to give his position away too carelessly.

As he reached the Cold larder, Liam looked around. Instead of a cavern as most larders were, this room was a stone-walled cellar with doors lining the walls. It appeared the Lord of the keep had spent a great deal of money improving this space.

Bodies lay in piles within each room. Liam did not bother searching them. He could sense their presence through Magical Attunement. The monster had turned the Larder into a banquet of innocent blood.

Ahead, Liam could sense the magical resonance of living humans came from a door at the end of the hall. A dissonance also echoed from within.

The Vampyre.

It was time for it to die.

Rather than open the remaining door, Liam took a moment to be sure of what lay within the room. He smiled, knowing he had the perfect skill for such an occasion.

He activated Deepscan.

A moment passed before a vision appeared before Liam. It was a map of the keep, showing all the spaces, rooms, furnishings, and fittings. The room before him had been converted to a prison. Chains hung along one wall. Focusing his Magic Attunement, Liam knew that his was where the humans hung.

At the far end of the room, a bed lay, and within it Liam could sense a dissonant presence.

The Vampyre. He could feel its body healing from the damage he’d dealt it earlier.

He wouldn’t give it the chance!

Liam activated the flame effect of Lehat Chereb and felt the Vampyre stir. Knowing exactly where it lay, he activated phase-shift, appearing beside its bed it in mid-swing.

Liam’s blade cut deeply into the Vampyre, severing its newly regrown arm and cutting deep into its chest. Liam didn’t stop there, twisting the blade so that the Aesium core pushed the flesh even further apart.

Leaning forward before the monster could react, he lunged with the Dirk. It punched through the Vampyre’s free hand and deep into the wood beneath, preventing its claws from once more sinking into his flesh.

The monster screamed in pain, still alive despite the horrendous wounds it suffered.

“HOW!” It screamed. “There is no way for a human to be as powerful as you!” It coughed and lunged forward, trying to bite him. Liam simply rammed his sword further into the Vampyre, pinning it to the bed.

“I tasted your blood! I know what you are, Ascended!” It coughed through the blood bubbling at its lips.

“My master will hear of this! When he finds out God sent his minions to the Mortal realm, all of hell shall rejoice! You have betrayed your Gods Will!”

Her cackling laughter sent a shudder up Liam’s spine.

Liam ignored its mutterings and retracted Lehat Chereb, swinging it forward once more to decapitate the monster.

The blade fell through empty air as the Vampyre spoke one last word. A pendant at its neck, hidden from his view, flashed with a dark red light. In an instant, the Vampyre vanished from view.

Liam cursed, spinning as he suspected a trap. Instead, the room remained empty. He reached out with his Magic Attuned sense once more and felt no dissonance in the area. Now only the human victims of the monster remained.

Wherever the Vampyre had disappeared to, it was far beyond Liam’s ability to sense.

Turning to the four figures hung upon the wall, Liam was nearly sick. They had been tortured horribly. All four had their tongues cut out, and their moans were awful to hear.

The two females were mostly intact, the older woman having lost one eye. Their long hair stuck to their skin, matted with blood while their bodies hung limp, covered in filth. Liam wasn’t sure what horror they’d seen, but the unseeing expressions on their faces told him it must have been hellish. Both were covered in bite marks.

The men had received the worst treatment, however. The skin of their faces had been removed, as had their noses, ears, eyes and lips. Neither man had legs, being supported instead by hooks that the Vampyre rammed through their shoulders.

Their hands had been cut off as well, leaving them moaning piteously upon the walls.

It shocked Liam that they were still alive. He moved forward, knowing he needed to help these poor people in any way he could.

No one should suffer like this. Liam thought, looking at their forms.

With Regrowth, he could eventually heal them all, but for now he needed to ensure they didn’t die.

Pulling them down from their shackles, and resting them gently upon the filthy ground, Liam cast Healing song over-and-over, ensuring that all their wounds were closed.

The woman–clearly the girl’s mother - tried to speak, her one remaining eye glaring from Liam to the girl frantically, and Liam nodded, focusing his healing on the girl first. Fortunately, her wounds were the least severe, and as soon as Liam was done, she scrambled to her mother, weeping piteously.

Next, Liam worked on the others. Their wounds were all severe, and as he healed them, he saw the same horrific scarring to their bodies as he’d received from the Vampyre’s mark.

Liam used Magic Attunement to examine each of them for similar Marks and found at least two claws buried in each of them. He cut them out as quickly as he could, the woman struggling as he began, but she quieted as he explained what he was doing.

He inspected them as he pulled them free. They were variations of the mark that infected him. Some caused greater pain, others to inflict terror. Each carried some type of curse, and he watched as the survivors calmed as they slowly regained control of their thoughts.

Finally, he had them all healed to a point where he could move them. The men were still in a horrific condition, and both were blind. Only the woman and child could see. Liam picked them both up and carried them carefully upstairs. Through his Deepscan skill, he’d seen that much of the Keep's Master bedchamber was intact–despite being soiled by the Orcs.

He carried them to a bed, and gently placed them upon it, returning moments later with the men. There he left them as he drew some water from the well in the courtyard. He left as the women helped the men to drink and wash. He returned a while later after scavenging some clothes from an armoire and some food and small beer from the tents.

After giving the women some privacy to dress, Liam returned to the chamber once more.

There he helped the women to feed the men some steamed vegetable gruel that he’d found simmering in a cook-pot in the guardhouse. As he did, he took the time to inspect each of them. He started with the girl.

Claire FitzGilbert

Level 2

Human

Then he moved on to her mother.

Mary FitzGilbert

Level 1

Human

Liam couldn’t understand why they were so low levelled. Surely, they had tried to build their experience and Levels after the horns had blown!

Liam then moved on to the men and encountered something odd.

?

Level 3

Soul-Damaged

Liam could see the name of the women, but this man’s race had changed from what must have once been human to “Soul-Damaged”.

Liam looked at the other man and saw he had a much higher level, but the same racial characteristics.

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Level 12

Soul-Damaged

Liam gestured to the men.

“Lady FitzGilbert,” Liam began, causing the older woman to turn and look at him askance. He gestured at the man with the higher level. “Is this the Lord of the keep?”

She shook her head, pointing to the other man. Her one good eye tearing up as she looked at the broken mass of flesh before her. Even though her wounds were healed over, his face was a mass of scar tissue, making it seem unlikely that she’d ever see the face of the man she clearly loved again.

For the next few hours, Liam gathered his Magic and regrew the lost flesh of the survivors of Cadzow keep.

He regrew the young lady’s tongue first, seeing her whole at the insistence of the mother. He smiled as she looked at him with eyes that had seen far too much. “Thank you.” She said, her voice quavering fearfully, as if not believing this was real. “Can you fix mother and father too?”

Liam smiled at her. “I can only try.” He said, turning to the girl’s mother. The girl had darted back to her mother and clung fearfully to her skirts.

Within an hour, the Lady of the Keep could speak. Liam had also healed her eye. While it was still bloodshot and itched constantly, she could see again.

The two men were quiet, not making any sound at all now. Each was told of what was happening by the excited young Lady Claire as Liam worked. Her running narrative speaking of the wonders of Liam’s miracles. They did not seem to react to the words. Questions went unanswered, and Liam feared their minds were gone.

The lady rolled her tongue around her mouth as she gave her daughter a smile of reassurance. then she turned to Liam.

“And what is the name of our saviour?” She asked warily. Her eyes staring at him suspiciously.

“I apologise, lady. My name is Page Liam de Lamberton. I am page to Lord James of Douglas.”

“I’m sorry for what happened to you, Milady.” Liam said. He opened the Keep interface, and looked for a way to transfer ownership. When he inspected the Ownership text, it appeared before him. Liam quickly transferred System ownership of the Keep to the Lady.

She gasped as she read the visions before her. When she was done she glared at Liam. "And how do you propose to explain how you came to own my Husband's keep?" she demanded angrily.

"Milady." Liam paused a moment, unsure how to explain the matter.

He decided to keep it simple. "When the Orcs left, the system granted me control of the Keep. I've now returned it to you, as the Lord is not able to accept."

"If you wish to transfer it to him at a later time, simply inspect the Ownership text in the Keep's Vision and you can designate who you wish."

The lady frowned at Liam and visibly relaxed. "I apologise for my suspicions of you. Page Lamberton. It has been a difficult time for us, and trusting never came easy to me. How ever did the Lord of Douglas do without your services?" she wondered aloud.

Liam grinned. “I'm afraid it was not by choice. I was separated from Lord Douglas as he travelled to Cadross to see the King. Have you heard news of them?”

The lady shook her head, but Liam’s words sparked an odd reaction from the higher levelled man. He began waving his arms oddly, moaning loudly as he repeated the word “Ukasth”.

Liam frowned. “Do you know Lord Douglass?” He asked of the Soul-Damaged man.

There was no response from the man except for the repeated word. It was as if it triggered a memory in him, but nothing more.

“Are they safe?” Liam asked. “Did they come here?”

The man still didn’t respond, only repeating “Ukasth” over and over.

Ignoring the man's compulsive muttering, the Lady looked to Liam.

She frowned at that. “You say you're his page?” She asked, doubting him immediately. “But you're too old for that station, and those are not the weapons or armour of a Page!”

She backed away, clutching Claire tightly to her. “What are you?”

Liam nodded and displayed his attributes.

The Lady’s jaw dropped. It was as if she’d never seen an attribute screen before. “I hope this proves who I am to your satisfaction, Milady.” Liam said, closing the screen before she could read too much about his Race. "I cannot prove to you that the Lord Douglas has me in his service, but I am his page, along with Squire Iain, Andrew de Leslie, Aidan de Wedderburn and Llywelyn ap Gruffydd.

She nodded, seemingly more at ease that he could at least name his peers. They were names she recognized.

He moved on, casting Regrowth on her husbands face, tongue and eyes. Something was wrong, however, and as Liam aided the regeneration, he saw it wasn’t working. The eyes had come back, but now were white with cataracts.

"Why isn't it working?" She asked worriedly.

Liam activated Magic Sight, and quickly saw the problem. The spirit was so badly damaged that the missing flesh could not hold its form. Ripples of what Liam could only describe as emotion caused the flesh to flex and bubble randomly.

"It seems that his wounds have gone deeper than the flesh, Lady." Liam said sadly. I don't know if I can return him to his former state.

Seeing her sorrow, Liam felt dismayed at his inability to find a solution, yet he resolved to do his best anyway. Perhaps if they reached Cadross, someone may have heard of a solution to the problem.

Liam moved onto heal the Lord's tongue, watching as the flesh slowly twisted together. When it finally regrew, it was thick and knotted, lolling limply from his mouth where a line of drool flowed. His ears and nose regrew bulbous knots of cartilage that stretched the skin in ugly ways.

Liam winced as he surveyed the results. The body of the Lord of Cadzow was refusing to regrow as it should.

“Soul-Damaged.” Liam said under his breath, understanding now what it meant. It was not a condition solely of the body, but of the mind, too. Both the Lord and the strangers’ minds were broken. Liam wasn’t even sure they could be healed, but he didn’t want to be the one to take away the Lady’s hope.

“What did you say?” The lady asked, having heard Liam speak. Her own tongue had healed, suggesting that whatever tool or claw had removed her Tongue was different to that which inflicted horror upon her husband and the other man.

“When I inspect the Lord and the other man, I see a vision that they are no longer fully human, but soul-damaged. It’s why they are not responding to our questions, not responding to healing." Liam looked over at the men. “They are beyond my capacity to heal. We can only hope that someone at court or within the church may know a way.”

The Lady looked at the broken form of her husband. He lay upon the bed curled into a foetal position and licked the stump of his arm like a dog licking a wound. Tears formed in her eyes at the sight.

“He tried to stop them from hurting us, but it only made it worse. The more he fought, the more they took from him. Eventually he just went silent.”

Liam wasn’t sure what to say but tried anyway. “He was brave to protect you, lady. That he kept doing so shows how much he loved you both greatly.”

It was the right thing to say, and both the Lady and Claire wept, clutching the broken body of the Lord of Cadzow. As they did, Liam worked on the other man. He suffered much worse, as even the skin on his face had been removed with a soul-damaging tool. By the time Liam had regrown what he could, the man was barely recognizable as human.

He sighed, standing from the bed to drink from a bucket of clean water. As he did so, the Lady approached him once more.

“Lamberton… Are you by any chance related to the Bishop Lamberton?” She asked, crossing herself.

Liam nodded. “I am.” He said, not going into any more detail. He recalled what Lord Douglas had said about the political situation. While he did not fear the Lady, he certainly didn’t want to make this discussion any more complex than it needed to be. He could sense that she had become more accepting of his status but was still wary.

“Bishop Lamberton married us in Saint Andrews Cathedral. He was a kind man.” She said. “Was he an uncle?”

Liam shook his head, unwilling to talk more. Time was already short, and they could talk as they travelled.

“My Lady, I apologise, but we must be ready to travel. I can continue to heal your husband and this fellow as we move, but we don’t have time to speak of my family for now. I do not know if the Vampyre will return, and we should be gone before it does.”

Fear widened the lady’s eyes and young Claire gave a gasp of horror. “If that is the case, we shall leave now!”

“No,” Liam said. “You need to gather what you can of your wealth and belongings. We don’t know what else is out there, or what we’ll meet. Gather what you can and be ready to leave within the hour. Is there a cart or horses we can take?”

The lady nodded. “There’s a cart in the stables. It was used to carry the stable muck out to the fields. It's likely the men and orcs left it alone. The horses were all killed for food by the Orcs.”

Liam nodded. He’d seen the stable from the wall, but the doors had been shut so he hadn’t spied the cart.

The manure wouldn’t be a problem. He’d simply tip the car on its end and pour it out. It might be dirty and smell terrible, but a bit of straw and a few hours of travel would eliminate the odour. Besides, it wasn’t like the survivors were unused to hardship by now.

Still, any comfort he could provide would be a kindness, and these people desperately needed kindness.

The horses were more of a problem, but Liam supposed he could pull the cart for a while. Perhaps they might find a village where they could buy horses.

“If needed, I shall pull the cart. You focus on getting ready to leave. Take only what you need. When you are ready, tell me and I’ll bring the Lord and our guest to the cart.” Liam said.

The lady gave him a grateful look and forced a smile. “Thank you Page Lamberton. We are in your debt.”

Liam gave her a bow. “It was my honour, Lady FitzGilbert.”

The lady nodded and for the next half hour, she and Claire picked through the remnants of their life in Cadzow.

Liam also spent some time scavenging the armoury and tents for food and any other useful tools. He found a functional gambeson that barely fit his massive frame and took the time to put it on beneath his chainmail, making the experience of wearing it much more comfortable. He also found a padded coif, which he put on as well.

Liam spent some time gathering what straw he could from the stable that wasn’t covered with blood and using it to pad out the bed of the cart. Next, he took one of the tents and lashed it over the cart to create some cover for those within.

While he was comfortable in the harsh winter, it would be an arduous journey for the others.

When he was done and had stored what food he could within the cart, Liam returned to the others and helped them outside.

Mistress Claire and her mother carried their father, while Liam carried the other man. The two women did not know who he was but were almost sure he was of noble birth. The peasants had been treated as fodder by the Orcs and the Vampyre. They had kept only the nobles alive.

As Liam got them settled in the cart, he returned briefly to close up the building. As he did, he took a moment to loot the bodies of the dead orcs. Finding only some tribulation credits, Liam quickly discarded the armour and weapons. None were near as good as his own, and he planned on making higher quality weapons for his friends when he arrived at Cadross.

The Orc armour may be functional, but it’s nothing I can’t make better versions of. He thought. The Chieftains breastplate, however…

Liam knew he’d need to discover how to tailor armour like that to fit. His coat of plates was a powerful piece, but despite its design, the size of the plates and their overlap limited its protection. A breastplate held no such weaknesses.

Finally ready to leave, Liam strode to the front of the cart and, with a heave, pushed the heavy wagon out the gate and down the narrow roadway past Ferniegair. He moved at a light jog, finding the exercise and cool air refreshing after the horrors of Cadzow.

Reaching a crossroads, Liam looked to the Lady FitzGilbert for direction. “The Palace of Cadross is to the North, past Glasgow.” She said, gesturing the road to the left. “If we head there, we shall likely find sanctuary. The burghers there will not turn us away, even at night, and the Cathedral should keep undead away. We are well known there, and they will give us aid.” Her voice was filled with a confidence and authority that Liam had only heard once before.

“Do you know Lady Tatania?” he asked curiously.

Lady FitzGilbert smiled. “Aye, we have met before, but we were never closely acquainted. There were so many people coming and going from the King’s court. My husband was a servant of the king for a few years, and we met after her husband defeated Edward at the Battle of Wear.”

“Court must be an interesting place to have so many people present. Can you tell me about it?”

Liam listened closely as he pushed the cart North. The Lady’s voice rising over the rumble of the road to be interrupted occasionally by the soft questions of a young girl.

It wasn’t long before the talking stopped the Ladies of Cadzow fell into a restless sleep.

Liam pushed the cart onward, hoping that whatever awaited them in Glasgow, the survivors of Cadzow would find peace.