Marizhel stood in his once gleaming armor in the sunlight, now marred by mud and grime hefting a two handed sword in his hands he made to move from defense to offence. He swung his sword low and clashed with a knight in full plate, his swing was arrested immediately by his enemy who had blocked his low strike with his shield. The knight thrusted his blade forward but it was caught by a backward slash by Mari who channeled his momentum to force the sword from the knights hands. The shield of the knight began to vibrate with pure physical energy and Mari used this opening to leap forward, aiming for the knights head. The knight pulled back and his helmet was caught by a sliver of the blade sending it flying from his head. The fool looked behind him to where his helmet landed and Mari knew he had won. He empowered his sword with physical energy and swung. As the shield was struck, the force bellowed through the wood and metal of it's construction vibrating it to pieces, sending wood splinters and metal fragments left and right. The knight was sent to the ground with a clatter as his shield was now destroyed and weapon was far out of reach. With his quarry disarmed, Marizhel brought his blade down on the head of his unlucky foe.
*Thwack!*
“OW!” Cedrik cried out as he clutched his head. “Damn it Mari, that shit’s smarts, do you need to go full force on your swings like that?” The defeated knight complained as he rubbed the offended spot on his head.
“Yes.” Marizhel answered dryly “If you are to protect this town and train others, you must be prepared for your enemies to apply ‘full force’ as you so crudely put it. I however will remind you that that swing was nowhere near full force.” He swung his wooden practice sword for emphasis, the air contorting around it for a mere second. “Even with a piece of wood like this I could cleave you in two if I truly wished it. But you are my cousin so I won't… unless you anger me.” He ended with a small uncomfortable grin.
Cedrik winced at the grin. “By Kaul. Even your smiles are far too serious, cousin.” He stood from his spot of defeat and walked to retrieve his training sword. “Must you be so stiff even when the threats around these parts are of little account?” This made Marizhel’s grin disappear instantly. “This land is beautiful and its dangers are minor, the Kaisir wouldn’t have had a village built here if that were not the case.” He waved his arms to the pristine and beautiful scenery that surrounded them. The village was very quaint, a fishing village with many houses, a trade guild, blacksmiths, cobblers, a tanner and other establishments dotted along the river that was the main source of food and drinking water rife with local farmers and fishmongers selling the fruits of their labor to their neighbors. The village contained just over four hundred people but not many could be seen with the two men currently near the forest in the recently constructed training yard. “Nothing happens around here, there’s no need to worry.” said with finality.
Marizhel held his gaze with Cedrik for almost a minute after that proclamation, brow crinkling. Every second that passed by made Cedrik more and more uncomfortable. While Mari glared, he began to walk toward Cedirk and spoke with a measured calmness unbefitting his face’s seemingly angered state. “There are always things happening Cedrik. Just because you do not see it does not mean it is not so. This is a frontier settlement, there will be issues and you must be ready for them, or everyone who is not will die.” Mari stopped just in front of Cedrik and poked at his breastplate. “Have you learned nothing this last year of my tutelage? Have your instructors in the capital taught you so little for the last two decades? Or are you so blind that you reject it all and still cling to your stupid; fanciful childish idea of ‘safety in civilization?’ Civilization means nothing to the cold ruthlessness of nature, tamed or otherwise. The land is hostile, and its creatures will swallow this village whole if you fail to realize this. Your people will die if you fail to realize this. Their children will die if you fail to realize this. You will die if you fail to realize this.” Cedrik’s face paled at the intensity.
Mari had given him many talks, but none so… grievous. Always focusing on group tactics, fighting technique, or advanced magical adherement to said technique. It is true that Marizhel and his family would not remain in the village, but Cedrik did not want to believe such beautiful nature could ever be against him so thoroughly. It was anathema to his family's world view, or at least his mothers, nature was beautiful. Though monsters and beasts had to proliferate somewhere, but his father had instilled in him an unwavering presence in the face of such beasts, they were both descended from Zaer after all. He looked up from his introspection to see Mari still glaring into him, now was as good a time as any to apologize. “I am sorry cousin. I hadn’t given it much thought. I had always heard stories of frontier Protector; they fought monsters yes, but always triumphed in the face of their odds, I just thought—”
“Those Protectors who live…” Mari interjected. “... are those who have learned. They do so on the backs of their dead comrades and the knowledge they gained from their failures. They triumphed because they were lucky in their first bouts, then applied the knowledge gained in defeat to succeed.” He leaned in further, mere inches away from Cedriks face, his hateful eyes burning pits into his cousin's very soul. “You will learn and protect this place, to apply such knowledge like they have, or you will die like they have. This is the way of the world, and our people.”
Cedrik was shaken, having never seen this side of his cousin, but he knew he was right. The land, no matter how far civilization spread, would always have elements of being untamed no matter how much one wanted to believe the opposite. A frontier village was almost bound to have terrors of nature descend upon it, possibly even magical foes. Even though Cedrik wished such things would stay in the deepwoods and keep away from settlements, there was no way that nothing would happen, he would need to take life seriously eventually and perhaps Mari’s little exercise in reality was what he needed. Cedrik took a sharp breath and nodded his head and Marizhel. “I am sorry, Mari. You are right, I suppose my boyish fantasies of an easy guards life were clouding my judgment. It was… unbecoming of me.”
This caused the glare to lessen and a small crack in Mari’s expression as the smallest grin pressed on his cheek. “Oh?” He huffed, amused. “Has the young Cedrik finally become a responsible man? Eager to shore up his shortcomings with work and effort?” His anger finally dissipated and he laughed dryly. “Praise Kaul.”
“Eat shit.” Cedrik chuckled out as Marizhel patted his shoulder. “I put plenty of effort into my shortcomings.” He said in mock offense.
“Yes yes cousin, I am aware.” Mari turned from his cousin to look at the village. He exhaled and spoke somberly. “You know I only act so harshly to prepare you for when I am to go back to the capital, yes? Your training will not last forever you know. It ends sooner than either of us want.”
“Yes yes cousin, I am aware.” Cedrik mocked his teacher. “I endeavor to live up to your expectations so you will not need to venture back out here and save me from the jaws of some violent beast. Speaking of." Cedrik changed his tone to a more uplifting one. "How is Ryka? I hear she is already back on her feet even though she gave birth only yesterday."
Mari grinned at the insinuation his wife was some crazed beast. "She is a descendent of Yeol, I doubt his blood would permit a weak child to be born of it." He boasted proudly. "She is the mother of our son, and a skilled archer so I'd be wary of your insinuations lest her arrows pin you to a tree." He wagged his finger in mock warning.
Cedrik chuckled. "Even when joking I can't help but take you seriously. I worry for that boy." Mari raised a brow but Cedrik responded with a grin. "I hope he isn't as rigid and humorless as you." He laughed in Marizhel's face, to his obvious annoyance.
A smack shook the air as a hand collided with Cedrik’s face with unnatural force. A small dainty hand had been the perpetrator, that hand belonged to a young woman, pleasant in sight; with an elegance almost unbefitting the harsh action. The slap caused a large red mark to instantly appear on the warrior's face while jolting his head painfully to the side. Both heads turned and took in the sight of Ryka. She wore a basic brown dress, resewn in many places to increase functionality and to make it more form fitting. Around her neck was a thick crimson scarf embroidered with a golden chevron, her legs and feet were wrapped with thick padded furs and she had some very unladylike boots that looked to be covered in mud. Her wavy and slightly frazzled hair draped down her back and onto her shoulders, black as the night sky, it complemented her pale skin and deep blue eyes as well as the pale skin of the baby she cradled in one arm while using her other for her smack. Her beautiful and delicate features, normally so soft and lovely, were currently contorted into a furious scowl paired.
"How dare you insult my husband in such a way!" She scolded and slapped him again in the same spot which elicited a cry of agony for Cedrik. "He has done nothing but help you and even missed the birth of our only child because he was training with you!" Cedrik was dumbstruck and raised his hands to try and calm the raging storm but no words escaped his lips before another slap flung his way but he evaded it and it hit his shoulder with even more force than the first two slaps. Even under his plate it hurt like a bitch, he thanked his luck Marizhel's damage mitigation lessons kicked in. "He was to be there!" She roared in indignation. "Yet he was not because of you, you oaf! You ingrate! You wet-towel fool of a man! Not only depriving me of him on our special day but having the gall to ignore, your instructor bay the way, his warnings of your position so flagrantly and thinking you have any place to speak!…you!" She struggled to think of a more venomous insult before Marizhel walked over and gave her a kiss on her forehead to relieve her ire.
Ryka visibly relaxed when Marizhel blocked Cedrik from her direct sight, he stroked Zaerthold's sleeping head while addressing her, not taking his eyes off the sleeping newborn. "Now now, dear. Cedrik meant nothing by it, it was just some banter, just a jab between cousins is all. He would never insult me truly. He is very grateful for my…" He reconsidered. "… our help." He poked Ryka's nose to punctuate his sentence. "His listening skills could do with a bit of work but I'll make a protector out of him, if he doesn't improve I could always throw father at the problem, that normally works. Though I'm sure Cedrik would like his training much less than mine." He finally peeled his gaze from Zaerthold to look at Cedrik with an amused expression.
With Cedrik not visibly frightened, Ryka huffed approvingly but still with an air of aggression. Not at Marizhel of course, but Cedrik had hidden behind the man so she couldn't threaten or beat him openly at the moment. "Oh fine." She huffed. "But I do not forgive him for making you miss your first child's birth."
Mari's eyes bulged. "F-First? What do you mean by—"
Ignoring her husband, Ryka simply pushed him out of the way and appeared right in front of Cedrik in an instant, she looked him over. Her anger has vanished and she now looked at him as a smish looks at a new sword, she huffed then puffed out her chest. "I suppose your training has been impressive, but I do not forgive you for your reckless disregard for Mari's time yesterday. Frankly, sweetheart, if your weren't family I would beat you to a pulp and have the healer tend to you." This received a disapproving look from Mari but no verbal disapproval. "I have waited for this moment for so long you know, and you took it like that." A snap of her fingers punctuated her words. "You have yet to even apologize for it."
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"I'm sorry, Ryka. I was only just—"
"Hush!"
"Yes ma'am."
She glared knowingly at Cedrik. "Consider yourself lucky I hold my newborn in my arms or I would punish you for your earlier comments about my being compared to… oh what was it. The jaws of violent beasts?" Cedrik paled. "But Zaerthold needs at least one free hand to hold him so I’ll forgive that comment." She said with a cheerful smile as she poked Cedrik’s cheek.
Turning back to her still stupefied husband Ryka grabbed his arm. "Mari, Walden wants to speak with you. I'll be going on a hunt so take Zaerthold for me please."
"Are you sure you're well enough?" Mari asked distractedly, taking Zaerthold into his arms. "You've only just given birth last night."
"Oh huff." She said with a wave of her hand a face that looked as if Mari had just suggested something completely ridiculous. "A Wind Dancer must keep practicing, so I will have to be. I got my dress ready for it and everything. " She said proudly and did a little twirl. Which received a nod of approval from Mari and a happy noise from Zaerthold. "I have to burn away all of the baby fat after all and I don't care what that Giles fellow who runs the smith says. I prefer to fit in my dresses thank you very much. Well anyway, I'll be back in a few hours, love you dear." She and Mari exchanged goodbyes and a kiss and she went on her way.
After Ryka was out of sight, Cedrik visibly relaxed and rubbed his face. "How the hell did she know about the violent beast thing?" Cedrik asked himself idly.
"Wind Dancers use aeromancy. Sound travels on wind, Cedrik." Mari beamed smugness. "That concludes training I suppose. I'll be off, go over what we practiced today, before I gave you a welt on your head." He chuckled dryly. "And before Ryka gives you another on your face." He laughed even harder but still dry as always. Zaerthold even made small baby noises along with him as they walked away. "Yes little one, Mama was mad at Uncle Cedrik, but it's all well now." He turned back. "Farewell today Cedrik, get your face looked at before you start to bruise." He waved as he walked away, leaving Cedrik who sighed, rubbed his temples and came to a conclusion.
"Kaul's Forge. Everyone related to uncle Walden is fucking crazy. That boy is going to be just like him or Ryka or, even worse, like both of them." He shuddered at the thought. "And Ryka wants more children." he sighed. "A whole line of children raised by a rigid unflinching Protector and his wife who has the blood of Yeol... great.”
****
Rickten was new. A fishing village built on the frontier lands of the mightiest human kingdom on the continent, the Kaisreig of Yaröl. Yaröl was by no means the only human kingdom on the continent but its military might was enough to make any question of their place on the map. Rickten was the most recent acquisition of the Yaröli in their expansion into the unmapped wilderness, further increasing the domain of humanity and the reach of their faithful. It was a small village now but it had all the natural resources to become a large and respectable settlement: abundant ores, lumber, fertile land, and game. All it needed was time and innovative people. It was an excellent place to expand and draw in many seeking a new life or seeking glory in the untamed and uncharted lands. There could even be great treasures to find. Such things drew in those with stars in their eyes and ambition in their minds. Granted, this could also attract those that the region would not consider wanting, but that is the nature of such ventures, hence the presence of the Protectors of Yaröl.
Carises was not one of these, he was ambitious yes, but it had been slaked long ago. Today he was just another old man on a wagon, his travels brought him here to meet an old friend of his that he hadn't seen in a while, he was old and set in his ways so a new life on the frontier wouldn't really fit him. He did visit the frontier from time to time, helping who he could along the way but he made no habit of it, his successor always needed a hand with something at the temple. Thankfully not many would notice his arrival and likely would even think he was part of the local clergy, at least that was what he thought, in actuality it was quite obvious he was not from around there and would stick out like a cow in a schoolhouse. His orange robes, once plain and unadorned, now sported inscriptions from his chest to his feet, glorifying the name of his god Kaul and his many deeds, history and some of the most impressive names of the First Million with his bloodlines patriarch being in golden stitching. He sported tattoos, as all clergy did, covering all of his neck, much of his cheeks and the entirety of his smooth bald head making it look like he had a full head of hair that simply transmuted itself into ink. Under it all his muscles had not deteriorated with age and indeed he was as strong and spry as any man half his age, ready for battle at the drop of a glove as all the faithful should strive to be. He instilled a level of devotion to Kaul seen present in only the staunchest of zealous and faithful circles of clergy, in short he was practically a signboard communicating to everyone that he was a big deal with the Kaulic faith. He and the big man did after all have a special connection. This all said, a platinum white beard decorated his face as did many wrinkles. Though he was strong and sometimes intimidating, he still held the air of a gentle man, a small smile ever present on his face as he read. The cover-top wagon he rode in stopped and tore him from his reading, his baggage train had reached its destination and he watched as families departed for their new life or watched as attached wagons of traders set up shop out in the town. Eight human families were in the many wagons, as well as some non humans, a few Dark elves disembarked, all carrying boxes and various luggage. A Gnome wagon pulled by miniature horses passed by and departed for the town square already peddling their goods with their squeaky voices. Carises had no luggage save a small satchel. He breathed in the air of the fishing town, made a note not to breathe in so close to fish again, and made his way to an armored man who with his hand-axe, shield and plated armor was likely a town militia or guard.
“Pardon me, young man.” Carises pulled his hood down to reveal his face. The sight of him took the guard off… well, guard. “Are you able to point out where the Protector trainers may be, or at least in the direction they may be in?"
“Yes, High Bearer. They are either sparring in the training quarter near the barracks." He points to a sturdy stone structure behind him near a large pile of freshly cut logs, it was large and well built, such was a Yaröli military structure. "Or they are recounting their training in the militia headquarters if the Lord Trainer is not impressed with performances. The headquarters is over there, near the center of town.” He pointed toward a squat building nearer to the river central to the town. The building was nothing more than a box and not very in theme with the rest of the village. It was very much built like a fortification, but not to the standard the barracks was even though they should have been built at the same time. If Carises wanted, he could complain about the village having no finished walls and the fact that the building in question was surrounded by workshops and homes, but he didn't feel like stressing about the shortcomings of this infant village. It would be fixed eventually. “Is there anyone you are looking for in particular, High Bearer?”
Carises was sparred his own critiques at the mention of his status as a High Bearer, which he wondered how the man could tell at a glance. He did not mind his title, but he was not at his temple and felt it a bit rude to make this man address him as if he was performing consecration or something. Building faults aside these guards are fairly perceptive even though he went to great lengths to hide his rank, but that’s just how it goes. “Yes, I am looking for Walden Zaerling.” He said with a nod of his head.
“Ah yes, Lord Walden has pretty much taken control of the militia building since he and his son, uh I mean the Lord Trainer, got here two years ago.” This elicited a snicker from Carises.
“Lord Walden? Lord Trainer? By His Forge, you’ll be fast friends with talk like that young man.” He giggled again. “I thank you for your assistance in any case. Kaul’s Blessing upon you.” He waved his hand and a faint orange glow engulfed the guard, handing said blessing to him.
"Wha– Thank you, High Bearer!" the guard snapped out graciously, slamming his glove to his chest in a salute.
With a smile, Carises casually waved away the guard's praise and thanks as he took his leave. "It is the least I can do for your help, young man. Good day." He arrived at the militia headquarters with no incident and simply let himself inside. He heard a noise coming from an adjacent room and peaked inside to find two similar looking men, one having a white beard and wings and the other having blonde hair and no such wings. The younger held a baby and the older seemed to be enjoying his time.
“She smacked him in the face?! HAHA!!” Walden guffawed while smacking the desk he sat at, slightly upsetting the baby in his son's arms. He froze as he sensed another presence and snapped his head up, soon making eye contact with Carises. He stood and beamed a smile that Carises would have found uncharacteristic long ago but now was now somehow normal looking on the winged mans face. “Cari! What are you doing here?” Cari smiled in response. "Hello my friend, how have you been?"
***
Ogog trudged through the river, he had finished his fishing trip. He didn’t need to fish but he was chief and needed to keep up his strength, even if none could truly best him. He had come into control of his clan some years ago after the last chief tried to destroy a clan of humans that migrated and made clan down the river. Ogog did not care for the pinkies, they didn’t hurt him and sometimes their children would get lost in the forest and give him food as presents to take them back home, the silly little blighters. Ogog was a Boglogger, a greenskin creature with savage features many pinkies would find grotesque or hideous, though physically stronger than many humans he had a healthy fear of them seeing as their kin number in the thousands at times, their clans growing larger than what Bogloggers could sustain, even in the BigBog, but the BigBog was just legend... most likely legend. If not, then it was likely destroyed by the Orcs after enough Bogloggers ascended. Ogog would like to trade and take advantage of the pinkie ability to have seemingly endless resources but… Boglogger and pinkie clans do not mix. Oh well, soon he snf msny more will ascend and be done with their savage nature, as is the way with things.
“Greenskin.” A voice called out, drawing Ogog’s attentions.
“Who say that?” Ogog called out, spear drawn.
“Your betters, greenskin! Rejoice! I come bearing an opportunity. An opportunity to crush the human scum from this land and gain power unparalleled.”
Ogog sneered and waved away the voice. “I no care about pinkie clan. They make clan away from Ogog Clan. We have pact.”
This angered the voice. “YOUR PACT MEANS NOTHING, GREENSKIN!” It bellowed across the air. “I bring power and strength to your tribe. The power of my master, all I demand is the death of the humans and for you to kneel to your new master.”
Ogog was no great intellect, a failure of his people, but he heard the smugness and arrogance from the creature and decided to not humor him in the least. “I chief. I kneel to no master. Boglog no kneel to no master.” This presented him with silence. Then he heard rustling from a set of bushes. He turned to see what it was but it was misdirection as a knife was plunged into his neck, ripping and tearing chunks of flesh with its barbed and serrated edges.
“A shame. You were the most intelligent of your kind. But that hubris only goes so far, foul creature. Enjoy your death and I shall enjoy your clan dying for my goals.”
Ogog clutched his neck, foul smelling blood dripping down his hand and body, he could feel his big-vein had been cut and he and struggled against the cold hand of death. All he could do was watch as a green figure knelt to a shadow in the trees as the blackness obscured his vision and death claimed him.
Dooming his people.