Most people who met Tanith Telus tended to assume that she was a mindless attack dog. However, if they tried to get to know her, they learned she was a loyal friend, loved her family, and was well-learned. Perceptions of mindless bloodlust were inaccurate at best and dangerous at worst. Especially since Tanith knew when people underestimated her and hated it. That being the case, Larxe seemed to be the attack they thought Tanith was.

In the time since they departed, three days had passed. They'd left behind a village under siege and still holding and made for the Barrow. Or so he gathered from conversations. During this time, Larxe had not even once said anything that was not mocking or threatening. It was almost impressive.

She was violent, vicious, brutal, and short-tempered and really rather dim. William was not one to cast judgment lightly, but she seemed to have no other aspect to her personality. Most of her time was spent hitting her pack and yelling at them. And they moved at an exhausting pace, even for William. All objections were met with violence and all failures with violence. Even success was sometimes met with violence.

Larxe did seem sane enough not to touch William, as he was under the protection of Neral Dinis. In fact, Neral Dinis appeared to be the only thing she did not have a deranged desire to brutalize.

"Move you, wretches!" snarled Larxe one morning, kicking people awake. "We've got a journey ahead. The King's Road is near; we'll move along it and kill anyone who tries to tell us."

"Is that legal?" asked William, hefting his pack.

"It better be for the law's sake," said Larxe. "The High Priest is calling in troops to stop the peasant revolt! They killed one of his messengers; we found their bodies!" Peasant revolt? Serfdom had never been introduced to Antion. There had been one or two attempts by immoral nobles to do so. And those attempts had ended in their deaths.

Escor had only fallen into it because the Haldrenians beat them so badly. It had been the only way they could keep society together. But, between Babarassia and Haldren and Viokinar, Escor had been in very bad shape. And then, just when things had been going well, the Escorian Civil War broke out.

And that was worse than all of them. House Gabriel had nearly gone extinct.

Then again, Cirithil probably assumed he didn't have to have a credible cause of war. As far as he was concerned, he could do as he liked, and everyone would believe his excuses. Even if they didn't, he probably wouldn't care as long whatever he was doing hurt someone. He really was exceptionally childish, wasn't?

"Actually, that was Ham Hawkthorne," said William, not wanting to say any of this. For all he knew was Larxe of Cirithil's party. "You see, the messenger cut him off in traffic-"

"I don't care what they did," said Larxe. "Move! Move, or I'll crush your skulls, you worthless ingrates!"

Larxe and her wolves moved fast. Faster than William was used to moving, she drew out a whip to crack at the heels of stragglers. Despite this, he was able to keep up.

William was used to moving fast; he'd done it in Khasmir and many other places. But Larxe drove her werewolves on with marvelous speed. Often she'd take a seeming detour that would bring them faster. Anything that got in the way was either circumvented or broken.

And soon, they came to the King's Road.

William had gone through many adventures to avoid it, and now he knew why. It looked like it had been half-taken apart. Most of the cobblestones were missing and badly overgrown, at least here. In fact, it was tiny but a glorified path. Greener lands lay on the other side, but no one dwelled outside fortified settlements.

They hurried along it, and people came out with bows to watch them go by. Eventually, after a day of travel, they stopped. During this time, they saw a girl watching with a doll of straw and old bits of leather. Larxe paused, looked at her, then shot forward and snatched the doll. Walking back, she drew out a knife and began stabbing it with a knife with a childlike smile on her face. The girl was crying to one side as straw, and William moved up to her.

"She's killed my doll," said the girl.

"Don't worry," said William, feeling horrible. "That's not your doll.

"She's just freeing it from its earthly confines so that it can help the people on the other side of this road. She'll return to you if you make another, but you can't return this way. Are your parents near?"

"Yes," said the girl.

"Go to them," said William. "Remember that your doll has saved you from the bad things here. So make another one, and don't make it get hurt like this again."

She dried her tears and ran off. The foolish girl really needed to sort out her priorities.

William saw Larxe was still stabbing the doll but looking up at him with strange eyes. William walked near her.

"Why is Cirithil bringing troops here, really?" asked William.

"I don't care," said Larxe.

"You realize he was enslaving them only a little while back," said William. The story would get out soon anyway.

"I don't care," said Larxe.

"Well don't you live here?" said William.

"No, I don't," said Larxe. "I just want to kill everything in this place for the Alpha so I can kill everything in some other place! Now shut up!"

"As a guest of Neral Dinis, I want answers," said William.

Larxe howled in fury, and the sound reechoed throughout the hills of Blackfear. Many undead dimly visible in the distance fled. "Fine, just ask your stupid questions."

"Who are the troops?" asked William.

"A bunch of bandits," said Larxe. "And mercenaries. He was hired by Sornian contacts of his using money from Namina. A guy named Nagos provided the cash. He throws it around a lot and hopes it will stick.

"Neral Dinis' has promised I can eat him. He's fat, so he deserves to get eaten."

"Do you eat humans?" asked William.

"I'm about to!" snarled Larxe. And she threw the doll at him, but by now, it was straw, so it fluttered around. She howled in sheer rage at that. "Let's just go! Get your things, and let's move!"

It was rapidly becoming apparent that Larxe had two different modes. Brutalization and screaming before brutalization. Neral Dinis had forbidden the brutalization of William, so Larxe did it to dolls instead. Several times she broke off and returned with severed limbs from the undead. She then used this to beat the other werewolves.

And they continued on even faster than before. Sweat dripped down his brow, and his legs ached. His breathing became labored as they went on and on without pausing.

Then William saw Castle Blackfear on the horizon, and all hope vanished.

Once, it had belonged to Orson, the Greatest Knight in all of Harlenor.

Now it stood like Carn Gable, yet taller and most terrible. The parapets had rotting corpses hanging from them. Bonfires stood on every battlement, and the stone was unadorned and seemed a solid whole. There was no mortar, and pale-skinned vampires walked the battlements with yellowed eyes. The gates were high and thin as if to allow in tall shipments.

And outside the gates was a significant contingent of the undead. Larger and more numerous than any William had seen before. They seemed to fill the plains and might have still been defeated if all had gone well. Yet he saw ranks of men with spears and shields in the distance. Veterans and some he knew from the Khasmir Campaign victims to a need of money.

Cirithil stood at the crossroads with his guards with Lamech beside him. At last, Larxe slowed their pace.

"Larxe," said William, coming up with a plan quickly. "You are Neral Dinis' favored servant, are you not?"

"Obviously," said Larxe, somewhat huffily.

"Well then," said William. "Why have you not been given command of that undead army? Were you even told of it?"

"I'm sure Neral Dinis has a reason," said Larxe.

"Perhaps he wants you to assert yourself," said William.

"Assert my..." Larxe stopped in full. "I'm going to carry out my orders! And I don't need an army of undead to kill all those worthless peasants! I can do it on my own!"

"Then naturally, you should be the one to lead the army forth," noted William as they neared.

"...Yes," said Larxe after a moment.

She was oddly quiet as she grappled with a problem that did not involve violence. Now William hoped things could work. As they approached the crossroads, he saw that the army was near; it was coming to a halt as it saw the werewolves. Larxe had quite a few with her, drawing them up as she walked.

Cirithil looked up and smiled, while Lamech looked very pleased with himself.

"William Gabriel," said Cirithil. "What was it you said before?

"'We won't meet in Antion?' I suppose that's true."

"Lamech, well met," said William, not considering the man worth his attention. "We're here to aid in putting down the peasant revolt."

"What?" said Cirithil, suddenly taken aback.

"The High Priest has commanded a peasant revolt be halted," said William. Technically speaking, serfdom and being a peasant was not the same thing. Though often the two were associated, a serf was bound to the land. "So it must be so, mainly if Neral Dinis has supported it. It is a holy duty to preserve King Andoa's authority.

"Especially with so many honorable veterans.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

"Having been there myself, I can negotiate with any honorable citizens remaining. Being quite well informed. We can convince them to lead us to what rebels there are. Primarily since they have chiefly been concerned with the undead.

"They have recently done great work clearing the roadways so that your path might be safe.

"Indeed, Larxe has led us all this way with great speed. She knows this land better than anyone and has a relentless talent for it. So I think it is only fitting that she and her people be in the vanguard. All that the villages might be secured without violence."

Silence from the men as they stared, and the undead eyed them. Cirithil made a motion. "You fool? Do you think your silver tongue will save you from this, Gabriel? I'm going to have you flayed alive before I set about those pathetic peasants you love so much.

"Lamech, take him and make sure he suffers."

Larxe slammed one foot onto the ground with such strength the pavement shuddered. Lamech made no move. "No."

Cirithil stared at her as if gobsmacked. It was a moment William would treasure. "No?!"

"No," said Larxe. "I don't work for you. And you're using my Lord's troops, you stupid effeminate brat!

"If you think I'm going to hand over Neral Dinis' guest, you fake priests, you have another thing coming."

"This is a matter of the church," said Cirithil.

"Not my church," said Larxe. "And unless you want to end up flaying yourself, I suggest you step past."

Cirithil looked to Lamech, who had made no move to enter.

Lamech said something they could not hear to him, and it looked like Cirithil was about to lament. But that wasn't good enough. An army was being raised here. Very soon, these gangs of thugs would be unleashed on the population of Blackfear. They'd turn them all into slaves and act like they'd betrayed Harlenor.

And Cirithil would enrich himself further while feeling a smug sense of self-satisfaction. It had to be stopped.

William whirled to Larxe. "Are you going to stand for this humiliation Larxe?!"

Larxe looked up, not being the bloodthirsty person in the room. "What?"

"You mean to tell me that you're going to let these filthy High Priest come lately cut you out of your just reward?!" asked William. "And you call yourself an heir to the Alpha!!"

Larxe raised a hand, then realized she was objecting to an opportunity for violence. Cirithil looked around while Lamech covertly stepped toward the men.

"Kill them!!" said William. "Slaughter them all!! Drink their blood!!"

Dead silence as Larxe went quiet for a moment. Her eyes cleared of bloodlust for a moment as she looked lost. Then her gaze turned skyward with new resolve and wisdom.

"He's right!!" said Larxe. "Slash!! MAIM!! TEAR!! BURN!! SLAUGHTER!!

"BLOOD FOR THE ALPHA!! BLOOD FOR FORTENEX!! BLOOD FOR ZIGILDRAZIA!! BLOOD, FOR BLOOD'S SAKE!!"

The werewolves howled, and the sound echoed across the fields and hills. It went deafening terror as others came out of the hills. The men looked at them with faces pale as death, and some took flight in terror as others clutched weapons. Then, with a burning madness, Larxe charged into the undead as one and tore into them. Her bare hands ripped through a dozen momentarily as a bolt of lightning formed in both hands. Then, attacking rapidly, she ripped them to shreds. Her werewolves tore through four to five, struggling to stay up.

The High Priest fell off his feet in surprise and scrambled away. He got stepped on by a werewolf in confusion. Lamech looked in amusement, making a clapping motion.

"Stop them!" said a mercenary dust elf with a massive black sword among the men. "Get those werewolves back into line!" He rallied the men and charged in.

And so the men of Harlenor rushed to defend a legion of undead from werewolves. All so they could crush innocent people later. William, for his part, walked over to Lamech, who turned to him. Halting, William looked to where Cirithil was, fleeing into the gates. Just as he passed through them, they shut with a clang.

"I would say you're out of a job," said William, approaching Lamech. "And, unless I'm mistaken, you have a meeting there. Arkan sent me to take his place."

"Yes," said Lamech. "I can get in the front entrance. But you'll be arrested if you go in that way. There's a back door I get in by; if you go up by Saphra De Chevlon, you should be fine. You'll have to go through the slave pits, though.

"Follow me."

By now, the battle had become a three-way bout of carnage. Everyone was killing everyone else, and more undead was coming to join in. The dust elf with the huge sword was cleaving undead and werewolf down like wheat. Meanwhile, Larxe was savaging everything in sight while having the time of her life.

The two kept a respectful distance from one another as they dropped down a ledge on the green side. The emotion being released by the dead undead was very nice, but they came to a side door. Lamech turned a key, and it opened to reveal a passage.

"Isn't this poor defense?" asked William.

"Blackfear is only the antechamber for the undead," said Lamech. "They're in the middle of a power struggle. It's the Vampire Lords against Sylvar against the Withering King. They're fighting it on several worlds.

"Nothing to do with you.

"That stunt we pulled was a minor skirmish. They are going to be very unhappy after what you've done today. If you want to try and get to Blackfear through this death trap, I couldn't ask for a better way to kill you.

"Although I admit, this is the most fun I've had in years." More howling could be heard, and flashes of lightning were around them.

"Thank you," said William. "Do you control Cirithil, or is it the other way around?" "I'm Cirithil will say he controls me until I choke the life from his dying eyes with one gauntlet," said Lamech.

"Duly noted," said William. "Step aside that way before I go in, please."

Lamech nodded. He packed away, and William played his harp to disrupt any enchantments. There were none, and the fight behind him was still going strong. So he darted through and slammed the doors.

Turning around, William was very surprised to see a silver-haired girl. She was clad in black armor. No, she was his age with red eyes and a smile and clad in heavy black armor emblazoned with the symbol of a lion. Moving forward, she offered a hand. On the other was a huge poleaxe.

"I'm Fayn De Chevlon," her voice had a harsh, aristocratic accent. It brought to mind the tea and biscuits Father liked. "The Baroness would like to thank you for today's entertainment. She has asked me to guide you through the labyrinth."

"I am William Gabriel, a pleasure," asked William as he took it. "What is wrong with everyone in this nation?"

Fayn struggled and spun her poleaxe, and William notice. "Well, I believe Larxe is something called a man-wolf. We'd rather the human population stay alive. Undead hierarchies are deadset; they don't change. Living creatures usually help up-and-coming powers. Ones' are of little use to stronger undead.

"Thus House De Chevlon's coordination with Cirithil."

"Manwolf?" asked William. "That is not a real term."

Fayn turned around. "As you like it. Escorian royalty disagrees with you.

"Follow me." And they walked down a long passage. On either side were stone walls carved with intricate and horrible details. They seemed to be emblazoned with images of macabre death, with a focus on rebirth. "You've given the undead a bloody nose, which is good for us. It's tipping the scales a bit back to Saphra. She'll have some real authority now.

"But, we'll have to get to her first."

"How did she know?" asked William.

"Well, she was planning to meet you at the front gate if you went in that way. And I was sent to meet you here," said Fayn. "Neral Dinis is very amused. I think he was getting bored and you've interested him.

"The game is low stakes, you see."

They walked until; eventually, they turned a corner and came to a door. It was huge and made of stone. Fayn set her hands to it and shoved it open.

"What are you doing here?" asked William.

"Accompanying Grandfather," said Fayn. "I'd never thought anyone would be reckless enough to pick a fight with Sylvar.

"I like reckless. You really think you're the hero in a saga, right?"

"Everyone seems to be these days," said William. The sound of fighting continued. "I have nothing to do with this story. All I've done is ask some questions and heal many people. Everything else has just been self-defense."

"You really don't live up to expectations," said Fayn as the doors swung open to reveal a dark passage. "I was told you were a spineless, effeminate nice guy who got pushed around by his servant.

"Instead, you're an actual threat. Kind of screwed up a lot of arrangements long set in place. Don't wander off; you're only safe in my presence."

"A year or two makes a world of difference," said William as Fayn walked along the right passage. William would have gotten lost long ago with all the different passages if Fayn had not arrived.

"Why were you waiting right outside that door?

"Baroness De Chevlon asked me to come up here and help you," said Fayn. "She wanted me to wait by that door if you came in that way. There was also someone waiting at the front doors, I guess. However, Larxe would never have let Cirithil lay their hands on you. She's not stupid; she's just in a yearly bloodlust state.

"Every so often, her kind of man-wolf has their aggressive tendencies heightened. My guess is that if you hadn't convinced her to attack Cirithil's men, she'd have sent you in by the door."

"And you don't foresee disaster from that?" asked William.

"Undead are pretty easygoing about life and death," said Fayn. "The intelligent ones have seen it all before. And those undead Larxe attacked were minor creatures. Though I gotta admit, you and Arkan killed a lot of them.

"Neral Dinis was very amused. Sylvar losing those troops has weakened her enough to increase his influence.

"Of course, if Larxe or her men get killed, we could have a problem.

"You don't think before you act. I feel the same way."

"I did think," said William. "That army had to be broken up, or the people of Blackfear would be enslaved. Cirithil has been conspiring to enslave the populace here. Then sell them back to the planters up north."

"That seems to like him. Can you prove this?" asked Fayn with a smirk.

"Talk to King Faras," said William. "He has everything you need on the subject."

"Are you working with the elves?" asked Fayn, raising an eyebrow.

"Political allegiance is meaningless if the nation collapses," said William. "Cirithil needs to be stopped."

"Well, he's not my favorite priest," said Fayn, resting her poleaxe on her shoulders. "I've done some undead hunting down here, too, now and then. Grandfather was pleased. He's got high hopes for me, assuming I can get Benarus to not disown me out of spite."

"Why has no one killed Cirithil by now?" asked William. "He has more than overstepped any bounds of protection."

"He's important to many off-world officials," said Fayn. "The predecessor to Duke Marn, really. In theory, they're supposed to regulate who gets to do business, being a divine agent. But, in practice, he just opened the floodgates in exchange for bribes.

"House Marn was brought in to mediate things because Letan is impeccably honest. At least insofar as honesty is possible. That was bad news for Hawkthorne. We were practically running things. My grandfather would have much preferred for Cirithil to do his job.

"Especially since he was the one who got him his position.

"But Cirithil immediately made a bunch of off-world friends at the expense of Antion. And they refuse to let us take him out, no matter what he does. Some of those friends have connections in the criminal world; he's untouchable."

"Why would they like him?" asked William. "What has he done for them?"

"It's not what he's done," said Fayn. "It's what he hasn't done.

"The idea was to get him wrapped around their little finger. Sign some contracts, buy up local businesses.

"So, these people are fanatics. They are obsessed with opening new markets. It's like a religion for them. Instead of worshipping gods, they worship economic trends and create mythos' about them.

"Cirithil was their ideal candidate.

"When he came into power, he let them do whatever they wanted and pulled any necessary strings. So they think he is a really splendid guy.

"But they have no alternative to Cirithil.

"So if he were to be wiped out, they would lose everything quickly. Their actions have made them universally hated. This means that any time Cirithil gets into trouble, he can call on them, and they will give him what he wants. He has infinite resources at his disposal to pay any bribes and do any jobs necessary.

"The truth is, Cirithil controls them. They haven't achieved any of the goals they had for coming to Harlenor. If anything, they've probably lost money. But they don't want to admit that decades of bribes have been for nothing. That would require taking personal responsibility, and they'll never do that.

"So they keep throwing money at Cirithil. Then he creates all these prostitution and slavery rings as a hobby.

"He's set for life either way."

"So the plagues in Antion," said William, stunned. "The debauchery and ruin of so many towns. The atrocities of the Healer's Guild and the destruction of the temples. The slaving rings of Blackfear...

"It was all just idle amusement by a bored aristocratic?!"

"Pretty much," said Fayn. "As I said, Cirithil is not my favorite priest."

"That's where most of the Healer's Guild came from. Sen Kaba is only a front and, in reality, just banked some of it. He pulled out after the operation stopped being profitable. Most of the rest was pulled in from other worlds. They wouldn't have any emotional connection to things.

"I'm just an observer. I was returning to the Tournament of Kings, though."

"How does Imogen fit in?" asked William.

"Eh, she's got plans to get more influence," said Fayn. "I gather she's regarded as a loser among her own land. Apparently, she's got a bad win record among the Goddesses of Themious.

"I think she wanted to find a male champion to give her powers to here to expand her influence. But that didn't go anywhere."

"Well, I wasn't recruited by her; Elranor recruited me," said William. "And she's a Proxy Goddess for him. Sort of.

"She stole it."

"Thus her dilemma," said Fayn. "Blackfear hasn't been the same since Tanith left it. She was professional about all this. Got the job done and did extra work on top of it. I remember I saw her in action out here. Wiped out all kinds of undead.

"And she was the only person in Gel Carn smart enough to see that Wrynncurth needed to be put in his place. My Uncle was practically kneeling and hoping that Arengeth would come to save them. We'd have been finished if Relma Artorious hadn't pulled Lightning Trail.

"Did you know that Benarus tried to cut Tanith's pay after she was proven completely right? But, of course, she walked out after that. The old fool is going to get us all killed. You never cheat your mercenaries.

"Everybody liked Tanith in Blackfear. It's a shame she's of such illustrious birth. My family would have killed for a swordmaster like her."

"Is she a friend of yours?" asked William in surprise.

"Eh, that's not the kind of thing you commit to," said Fayn. "We worked well together and plundered an undead tomb. Not much to plunder, but she mostly wanted the blood, and I wanted the ashes."

"That sounds like Tanith," said William

"Larxe and she got on well," said Fayn. "Tanith knew how to channel her."

"So what is this Alpha?" asked William.

"I was hoping you could tell me 'heir to the Alpha?'" asked Fayn.

"Technically true," said William. "And it seemed like the sort of thing to get Larxe to commit violence. I know it's a religion, but what do you know of it."

"It's a religion of the wolves of the world. And also some other savage creatures," said Fayn. "Basically, they believe that the Alpha was like their god. So they fed on it at the behest of Tamar, over and over again. And as they fed on it, they gained will and powers.

"Then the Alpha appeared to them and sent them out to find many packs after banishing Tamar." They had begun to scale upward, and William was amazed at how well-managed these halls were. No cracks or anything, and it is meticulously clean. "Displays of mass bloodletting draw out the Alpha. Feasting on the corpses of sentients is a good way to get in touch with her. Or him, I don't even know."

"I spoke to a group of gnolls who have a different take on it," said William. "That seems to be Larxe's interpretation.

"What do they want?"

"I don't know, further instructions. Larxe is part of a movement trying to manifest it," said Fayn. "I think she plans to eat the Alpha if she actually summons it. Y'know, take her powers."

"You mean like the Unborn God?" asked William as they approached another gate.

"Something like that. Less omnicidal, more feral," said Fayn, drawing out her keys. "Larxe could have people cueing up to be eaten if she was just a little less completely insane. Neral Dinis keeps her decently channeled, though."

They crossed a stone bridge, and William saw a vast hall beneath it. Unending hordes of undead were marching downward into black oblivion. Some he saw clashing with other vast hordes of different kinds. They tore one another apart little by little.

"...Speak of Diabolus," said William. "How many of these creatures are there?"

"Too many," said Fayn. "This area of the crypts isn't under Neral Dinis' control. The curse of King Anoa maintains the undead here. And the King of the Goblin King Redder. And the curse of Alchara.

"Others have joined them over time. Although to be fair, they go to a lot of different worlds. This place is uh... detached from Erian.

"There are a lot of curses on this place. And more are added daily from adventurers who don't know what they are doing." They crossed the bridge, and she halted. "Hold on.

"Corner." Turning it with axe in hand, William followed and saw the clear coast. Fayn, though looked up and down.

"Never walk past a corner without checking it first, above or below," said Fayn. "More than a few people I worked with got knifed by skeletons or shredded by thorned vines. Others were killed by groups of adventurers who weren't here to hunt monsters."

"House De Chevlon uses many of them for transportation. But this region has gotten incredibly hectic." They continued on, climbing stairs now.

"Do dwarves live in these tunnels?" asked William. How had all this been carved?

"Well, some of them have mines that connect in the Border Hills," said Fayn. "But those tunnels are sealed by steel gates and guarded at all times. You've also got the Naker dwarves, but they sealed all the entrances long ago.

"In fact, most entrances are. You're lucky Saphra decided to let you in."

"I was out of options," said William.

Going through one last door, William stopped and saw a beautiful woman about Tanith's age. She was clad in a dark leather skirt split on one side and bared an ebony-colored hip. Her hair was long and dark, and her eyes were sapphire blue, with a slender neck and toned arms. Her lips were painted dark, and she had the most enormous breasts of anyone he'd seen. Her midriff bared her thin waist while her torso was covered by a black leather top. Its neckline was cut into a low V. They showed off her-

Do not focus on that; focus on her face, like those dark-painted, pouty lips and bright blue eyes. The lips were painted as well, and her eyes almost seemed to glow in the light. The eyes were likely the best choice to focus on. Sapphire colored, with a pale light.

"Well, Fayn," said the woman. "I'm glad you've brought me my counterpart at last."

William summoned the light of the sun's spirit and saw that her skin was tan and the dark hue had been an illusion. The shadows had made it seem pure black. However, he did not believe it as she came forward to offer a gloved hand.

"You might know me as the Baroness of House De Chevlon. I am so very honored to meet you," said Saphra. "Though the last time we met, I was called Arraxia.

"It has been some time, William."

William knew that tone of speech. "Not long enough, milady."

He took the hand.