"Do you drink, Charles?" Sir Blakebow asked me as he was rummaging through a large intricately-designed cupboard in the quaint little office of his "Ah here it is! The best whiskey you could find in these parts and dare I say all of Feldonia even! Genuine Faewood Whiskey I acquired during my time as an adventurer! Hasn't been opened for over two decades."
Well, I was certainly not one to reject an offer for a drink, not especially a drink that sounded as exquisite as that. "It would be my pleasure... But shouldn't you save that for more special occasions?"
"Charles, I don't know what kind of shit you've been through in your life, but surviving being murdered by a pack of angry werewolves, is a hell of a reason to celebrate in my book, hahahahha!" Sir Patrick opened the bottle which let out a satisfying *plop* before pouring it into two fancy-looking shot glasses which he also took from the cupboard, handing one of the glasses to me.
We clanked the two shots together before downing them. By God, If I hadn't missed the taste of good whiskey going down my throat, though I had to admit, I was more of a wine man myself.
"So what is it that we need to discuss, Sir Blakebow?" I asked "I mean I am very much for pleasantries, but given the current state of things and how serious you looked when you read the letter..."
"Aye. About that, I'll immediately write a reply to Al after our discussions which I hope you can take back with you when you return to Dansville... If you don't mind, of course."
"Of course I don't. I was planning on coming back and relaying the new to Alfred there anyways."
"Well then that’s just marvelous. On that note, Would you be troubled if I offered you to stay the night? As I need time to get the preparations done on my own end as well as the fact that you oughta be tired from the earlier battle."
"Not at all, sir. In fact I'm very thankful for your hospitality." I said as I bowed slightly in courtesy
"Oh please, it's the least I could do.” Sir Blakebow waved away my formalities in a similar manner to how Al usually does. These two were very similar in some aspects though the Lord Stewards was far more boisterous than Alfred “Anyways, about the contents of the letter, of course it's mainly about asking for aid. I take it that Dansville was also besieged in a similar manner by the same group we faced earlier, aye?"
"Yes, and Al and I have reason to believe that it's not just a coincidence." I said as I explained Dansville's siege to him in a little bit more detail including the mad spoutings of the first insane cultist I encountered. As I recounted the story, Patrick's expression became even more serious.
"Then it's what I was afraid of..."
That sounded way too ominous to my liking. I looked at Patrick with a raised eyebrow, edging him to start explaining things to which he gave a long sigh.
"I'd like to tell you, but this'll take time to set up the context."
Well, you know old people and their stories. But, hey, It wasn’t as if there was anything better I could do in the castle. "Please, explain. I'm all ears." I said.
"Well, you see, it began during the height of our adventurer days many decades ago. You know, me and Al were a part of the same adventurer's group back then. We and several others were one of the most well respected parties of adventurers in all of Feldonia if not the entirety of Terradome. I mean at the height of our power, we were all at least gold-ranked adventurers."
I wasn't too well versed into the ranking system of the various Adventurer guilds in all the nations or even of Feldonia’s as a matter of fact. In fact I didn’t have a clue about anything useful about the world’s system of adventurers and dungeons except for the fact that they exist. However judging by context, it would be safe to assume that his - and by extension Alfred’s - party’s prowess was far above the norm. I of course don’t really have much of a problem believing it if Al’s absurd skills were anything to go by. But I was still perplexed. Why would people of such skill and prowess have such relatively low standing with one being a baron’s knight and the other a village head?
"Don't give me that look, Charles." Sir Patrick said with a slightly disappointed tone. It seems the old knight misinterpreted the look on my face. "It's up to you whether to believe me or not, but I'm telling you the truth."
“Oh no, you’re getting it wrong-...” Just as I was about to explain myself
“It’s alright, just give me a second… Now where did I put that thing? Oop! Ah, here it is.” Blakebow proceeded to open a drawer on his desk and threw a white-gold tag on to the top. On it was etched an engraving of a star and a griffon. Below the symbol was his name etched onto it ‘Patrick Blakebow’.
It was indeed an intriguing trinket as its shine was still marvelous and glistening. A work of beauty, especially considering its smaller size. I didn't really have a way to prove or disprove the old knight, but the tag looked real enough and considering the technology of the world, I'd say counterfeiting or faking that medal would be a hassle although, magic and the like could lend a great deal of aid in those processes and honestly, I still didn’t have a good grasp on the technological progression of this world.
"You believe me now, boy?" He smirked at me, feeling a sense of victory and superiority despite the fact I never really doubted him to begin with.
While this was all well and good, I was still curious about one simple fact which was why I asked, "Sir, I didn’t doubt you since the beginning, one of the thoughts irking me right now is perhaps the thought of asking you why you didn’t decimate the army yourself… you should've been able to take care of those beasts yourself then or at the very least with some minimal help. Now I feel bad because I had perhaps stolen your opportunity to train your knights more."
Blakebow let out a hearty laugh at my cheeky quip. "Well, Charles, if I were even just a decade younger, I figure I'd be able to flatten those chumps easily but old age has quite an effect on you, especially when you’re pushing 80 like I am, bahahahahha!” I was shocked at what I just heard. I had at most thought that he was in his sixties at most with his muscular build. Blakebow only laughed as he saw my expression and continued on “And I still could have dealt with them earlier with a bit of hassle if I didn’t care about the collateral damage. Also, I was in fact helping. Most of the men on the walls were local militia. Non-professional combatants, yet they didn’t suffer any fatal casualties. I was maintaining an earthen barrier towards their relentless attacks as well as strengthening my allies."
"I see… but your men looked pretty pushed back on the walls though from what I could tell during the battle."
"Oh, those lads are still young and fresh from squiring the senior knights and are still mostly wet behind their ears. None of them have been in any real perilous situations before. If I were alone, I'd be able to focus my attention on fighting those bastards, but the safety of the people is my first priority, getting the townsfolk inside the castle walls was imperative, and with only my own self capable of putting up a decent fight, I couldn't really afford to multi task."
"I guess that makes sense."
"Besides, my affinity is of the earth attribute and we're slow as turtles unlike you and Al. I couldn't possibly dodge all the attacks coming at me from various angles, unlike you rogue types."
I'm not technically a rogue, but that was fine.
“Regardless though, Sir Blakebow-...” I started
“Oyy, just call me Pat!” Blakebow said as he filled in my glass of whiskey again
“Of course, Sir Patrick…” I corrected myself to which Blakebow only rolled his eyes in defeat. I chuckled as I continued after taking a sip from the glass “I had heard from Alfred that your party had experience fighting against werewolves during the war with the Empire.”
“Ohohoho! He told you about that story, did he?” Sir Blakebow’s expression became visibly more bright. Old people really did like reminiscing about their memories. But hey, I was old too once. “Ah yes, it was during the height of our heyday over twenty five years ago. Richard Ironfist had just ascended the Sky Throne a few years prior after the whole fiasco of the Infantile reigns. Central authority was fuck all and most of the feudal landlords were busy either squabbling with each other for lands, or squabbling with the capital for whatever horseshite reason nobles usually squabble for. It was a shit time to be the Emperor but it was nothing short of wonderful for adventurer’s like us! With the breakdown of central authority and the standing armies busy failing to keep the Empire intact, the local lords had all relied on us smallfolk adventurers and mercenaries to deal with monsters and sometimes even against other lords. Oh those were the days!”
They sounded like terrible days in my opinion. Blakebow continued on his set-up. “It was a good day to be a bandit, and an even better day to be adventurers paid to kill those sorry arsewipes! And everything went to even more shite when all of a sudden the Grand Duke of Southerland - may his grave forever be covered in horseshite - raised his banners in rebellion! You know the story, right?”
I didn’t. “I only know very little details…” I lied. I didn’t know any context to this, but human societies will always be human societies and I could make an educated guess “History was never my strong-suit, sir…”
“Oh you young folk nowadays… Bahahaha, not that I was any better when I was your age. Ah well, all you need to know is that the Southern Grand Duke rebelled and his arse was filled to the brim with stinking German coin! And of course those arsehole Gaols just had to join in the bloody fun! Fockin fairy fuckers the lot’ of em!” Blakebow was on his 7th shot and it was starting to show though he was keeping my own cup full along with his “All the Feudal Lords and Governors were called into the fight to defend our Empire of Archior, and all adventurers who bore the seal of the griffin were called in as well. But, not even the likes of us could fight off what was effectively a four against one war! We gave as good as we got though. Me, Al, and all our party-members - all who survived anyways - were there when they forced Ironfist to sign that humiliating peace deal! We Lost Blairbech, Caomaed, and Southerland during that war… We lost lots of good men too. Good lads all dead, only food for the crows.”
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Blakebow’s expression grew melancholic as he got up to take another whiskey casket from his cupboard for us to drink. “Those were the high times but they were bloody shite days too… Those Lowerians sent everything our way. Their damned dragonriders and wyverns were bad enough but add to that their endless armies of cannon fodder. But none of those were as terrifying as the Bloodhound battalions. The most fearsome force of beastfolk outside of the actual Beastmen Confederation! Werewolves under the direct service of the Lowerian Emperor.”
“Alfred told me they were quite formidable.”
“That they were. Those bastards could shrug off volleys of simple arrows and crossbow bolts like they were nothing! They could even take on several blasts from arquebuses before they were incapacitated, though perhaps the guns we have today might be able to equalize the playing field a bit more.”
“How did you all even manage to face these troops? Hearing you say it makes them sound nigh-invincible.”
“I’m sure you’ve seen from fighting against werewolves earlier that they can not maintain their beast-form indefinitely. The strongest could last a few days or even up to a week, yes, but most average ones at best last a day and on average a few hours. Beastfolk are also notoriously ungifted in magic with their race being the most unsuited to the manipulation of mana compared to the rest. Beastfolk shifters are usually best used as shock-troopers to lead a vanguard or a forlorn-hope assault to cover the main body of the army…”
I gave an uneasy look as I nodded. “It sounds to me that they were just glorified cannon-fodder.”
“Ermm, more akin to sponges, I’d say. Soak up most of the damage from the battles, then let the forces behind them do the real fighting. Of course we had our own counters to those beastfolks. Disciplined pike formations aided by competent mages for support were the most deadly, but I’m getting ahead of myself.”
“Oh, this is something I’ve also been curious about, Sir Patrick.”
“And what would that be?”
“These werewolves that we were facing earlier, do they seem in any way connected to the Empire at all?” I asked whilst pouring a shot of the newer whiskey for myself.
Blakebow looked to be in deep thought as his expression grew serious. It was then he answered, “Yes and no.”
“Yes and no?”
“Yes.”
“Eh?”
“You heard what I said, Charles. You see, the Bloodhound battalions were still a disciplined and professional military force. They also never used any animals or wolf beasts in their rank. It was a purely auxiliary and supplementary force of the Lowerian military. But I will not completely rule out the possibility as Feldonia does not have any known population of Werewolves native to it to justify such a number of them to appear. That is unless we’re counting the many Beastfolk of the area that are indeed descended from wolfkin clans.”
“Then those people must be the culprit! An investigation should be carried out.”
“It isn’t so simple, Charles. Lycanthropy or the skill to change into a werewolf is not as common among the wolfkin as one would expect. Let’s say that for every three wolfkin, one might naturally have the potential to be a werewolf.”
“Hmmm… This does pose a difficult question, but one thing still bothers me. I mentioned this to Alfred, but he didn’t make too much of a reaction. It was that these werewolves seem to be devotees of the Heathen deity Malcanis.”
Blakebow merely raised his eyebrows before gulping down another shot and exhaling while shaking his head. “This is where I should continue the story from back then. You see, it was during a skirmish near the border where me and Al’s party were engaged by a particular platoon of werewolves. They had the colours of the Lowerians and so we had prepared for battle immediately. But the thing is, these beasts were far stronger than any we had previously fought before and they were also accompanied by wolf beasts similar to the ones we faced earlier.”
“But you just said the Empire never employed these beasts among their ranks.”
“I said the Battalions never deployed them. These beasts were of the Lowereichers, without a doubt - as there were a few Imperial officers around - but they were not of the battalion or any distinguishable military corps of the Empire. Our party was specifically commanded by Ironfist to investigate the area of the borderlands as we’d gotten reports of several entire villages being decimated uncharacteristically like they were massacred by beasts. At first we assumed that it was a Magical beast or creature that was wreaking havoc but after weeks of searching and failing to find anything, that encounter with the Werewolf party made us question our earlier hypothesis. And so we came with a map of the area as there were a few villages left surviving and it was then while on one of our rounds we stumbled across a similar looking werewolf party. Mind you, we were on the Lowerian side of the border at that time and so you could imagine our shock when we spotted the Lowerians mauling and murdering their own people. I had planned to charge right in to save them, but Alfred and the rest pulled me back so that we could observe them. And that was when we found out what was going on…”
“And what was going on?”
“The Lowerians were performing Blood Magic on the people there.”
“Blood magic?” That was the first I’ve heard of the phenomenon and I was honestly quite intrigued. The drowsiness from the drinks I had almost vanished as my focus returned slowly.
“Yes. They were performing heathen rituals on the people and that's where we saw how they created the wolf beasts using the corpses of the dead villagers. We heard them chanting profane incantations invoking Malcanis and other heathen Bestial deities. It was when we had the full picture that we decided to act and deal with them. It was a harsh battle but we managed to capture one of the cultists with evidence of the transgression.”
“And so what did you all do with this information?”
“Alfred had informed the Capital of these issues and gathered as much evidence as he could to build a case for a papal inquisition against the Lowerians.”
“Papal inquisition? I thought Feldonia was protestant?”
“Feldonia is, yes. But it was only Ironfist’s son John who made us formally split with the Church of Sanctum. Though, everyone knew that the Imperial family had always been secretly protestant, but anyways we’re getting sidetracked. Ironfist had our clergymen compile a case to the Church of Sanctum to be reviewed and a formal investigation was commenced not a year later. At that time, the protestant reformation was at its most volatile position in the Lowerian lands and this threat from within was what caused a majority of the Lowerian armies to be pulled back from the frontlines. In less than a year we managed to sign the peace treaty that finally ended the war, though because we failed to recapture any major centers of power from the vassal states, we were forced to relinquish them. We would have lost Arcois and Vertefleur as well if it wasn’t for Ironfist subjugating the magnates there, but I digress.”
This was interesting information, but I really needed to know what the results of the investigation was. “And so what of the fate of the papal inquisition?”
“Bahahahahah!! Oh yes, the Papacy discovered that there was a subset within the Empire’s military developing Blood magic in secret for military purposes. Everyone knew it was the Emperor of Loweria’s bidding, but he played his most trusted advisor and the Werewolf head of the Bloodhound Battalions, Count Wolfgang, as the scapegoat of the entire project. Regardless though, the Pope officially excommunicated the person of Emperor Leopold II of Loweria and the rest is history. At the end of the day neither our Archioric Empire nor the Lowerians benefited from the conflict as we were all played like a fiddle by the Southern Duke.”
I nodded as I let the information simmer along the alcohol within me.
“Then there’s a large possibility that we are perhaps dealing with this sect of Werewolves that may have branched off from the Lowerian fold?”
“Aye, that’s what I gathered especially after reading the report from Alfred.” Blakebow said as he motioned his head on the letter I sent.
"Alright then. This has proven to me that the matter is far larger than I had first anticipated." I said as I thought that I'd gathered enough from Blakebow's stories. So we were dealing with a bunch of deranged cultists, go figure. "What would be our best course of action now then? Do we just wait for the Adventurer's guild to come and hand over the information to them? Or maybe the Duke's men?"
"Well first off, as to Al's request for aid, I'll divert a dispatch of about half a dozen knights and some militiamen to Dansville. It may not be much, but considering I only have a few dozen knights in total at my disposal and a population of almost two thousand to protect here in Surlock, I do hope you'd understand."
"Of course, Sir Blakebow. Any help and aid would be of benefit. And of the matter of the duke and the adventurer's guild?"
"Well, Al's already contacting the guild hall at Ashfall and they should be able to give a response in a week or less. As for the duke, I'll personally write a letter to him as well as to the baron informing them of what has been transpiring here in these lands. A return of a heathen foreign cult would not sit well with the Sky Throne after all. And of course I would be giving you your due credit as well, Charles."
"Well, then I guess that's that. Bide our time as we await further aid and notice." I said as I got up from my seat and gave Blakebow a bow. I realised the drinking has caused my balance to get a bit off, but I just gave it a couple of seconds to get my bearings back. "Thank you for your time, Lord steward."
"One of the maidservants will be sure to show you to a modest room we have prepared... Oh but one more thing, Charles, before I forget." Sir Blakebow got up from his seat before handing me a small pouch from his desk "This isn't much, but I hope it'd be something. Know that you have me and my men's thanks always."
The pouch was one filled with gold coins. It wasn't that large but it sure felt heavy. I gave the steward another bow as at least I got something for my troubles regardless of whether or not it was fair compensation for my work.
"Thank you very much, sir." I said with a bow
"My pleasure. And when you lead my men back to Dansville tomorrow, I'm hoping you'd stay there for a bit. Of course I trust in the guild and the duke, but I fear it would take too long if we only rely on them. This won't be the last we see of each other, I'm sure of it. If I do manage to get information from the captive, I'll make sure to send someone for you and hopefully we might be able to deal with this problem with the least amount of issue."
"Don't worry, I am now Charles of Dansville..." I said with a smile "Before this issue with the cult is dealt with completely, you can be rest assured that I'd offer any help I can give."
"I'm counting on it, Charles. Now off you go, then. You need all the rest you can get."
"Certainly do. Oh, but what of the fate of the wolf girl after you're done with her?"
"Honestly it depends." Blakebow said as he got back to his desk and slumped on his chair "Keeping a werewolf captive is far harder than it looks and depending on the extent of her crimes, maybe this is just prolonging the fate you were about to hand out to her anyways."
"I see." I nodded to Blakebow before leaving the room and heading towards my chambers. I felt my head grow dizzy again. I didn’t know whether it was the alcohol bringing me into a stupor or whether it’s the aftereffects of remembering the brutality of the battlefield against the werewolves. When on the battlefield and filled with bloodlust, I try my best not to notice all the violence that much. A sort of forced ignorance to my surroundings if you will. I mean of course I took people's lives and had witnessed a great variety of death during my time as Emperor, but my time in the modern era has left me a little softened... Which wasn't a bad thing in and of itself... But this world… It was a whole 'nother matter entirely.
As I reached my chambers, I took off most of my clothes which had been damaged during the fight and went to lay on the bed prepared for me. The room was modest when compared to the chambers of nobility back in my time, but it was still larger than my dorm room at the academy or the one at Dansville, but hey. Anything beats the conditions out in the open by a long mile.
As I lay there, I slowly allowed myself to drift to sleep. This new world had been unbelievably tiring, but honestly, it wasn't so bad once you get used to it. Maybe for a modern person, it'd be unbearable. Heck, if I wasn't originally from the 1500s, I'd most probably find this place unbearable. No phones, no laptops, no internet, not even bloody showers at least that I had seen... I realised that I needed to get myself cleaned soon as I was starting to reek.
Despite all that though, my mind started to drift away as the darkness of sleep crept upon me... but even so, I still felt a sense of empty inside. An image started to appear in my mind... A beautiful, sweet, and adorable person... My Isabella... How I missed her so...