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Last Flight of the Raven
2.52 - Somber Mood

2.52 - Somber Mood

A strange mood hung above the group returning to the permanent camp at the shore of the Stormplains, like a traveling companion no one had asked for. After the euphoria had dissipated we were left with a somber sadness - and thoughtful silence. We had lost friends and family after all. The human mind had a limit as to how much it could take, and we all had seen - even done things unthinkable.

We were touched by the flames of battle, literally had waded through bucketfuls of blood to kill creatures woven out of the stuff of nightmares. We had seen the closest thing to a god enter the fight and show us how small we were in the grand scheme of things. The Mad King could kill us with a stray thought.

And was that not just terrifying?

There was new determination in the group, though. The ironfast determination to be better, to be more, next time circumstances would call us to battle. I could feel it with the knights, especially. They had fought admirably, valiantly, and yet...only one of them had been able to even wound the Weirderbeast in a significant way.

I seemed to be above such things these days, as I was jaded and worn out with the supernatural and unthinkable. The ravens alone, perched on the shoulders of their chosen knights, staring around with their intelligent, black eyes, were unsettling and...well, Ravens were known to be the bearer of bad news. They added a certain air of...fate taking its share. I was tired as well, and my thoughts straying.

To drag me out of my mood, I asked Lily to show me the notifications again.

[Weirderbeast defeated! Reward: 133 EP]

[Nightmare Defeated! Reward 21 EP]

[Nightmare Defeated! Reward 5 EP]

...

The notifications went on for a bit. Even for me, the two days of fighting had been a substantial gain in Essence. The others, all new to their fighting classes, must have been accruing enormous amounts...There is a saying that nothing creates strong men like war and the struggle for life and death.

Finally, I came to the big ones:

[New Title gained: No Matter the Cost!

You have defeated an ancient evil, created by the machinations of a mad mind and an environment gone wild. You swam through its blood, hacked miles of sickly bound together flesh to pieces, cursed a forest, sacrificed brave souls, and released volatile insects onto the earth to defeat it, but you did it.

Skill unlocked: [Companion Skill: Marked for Death]

Rewards: 500 Ep, 50 Shards]

[New Title Gained: Guardian of the Earth

You have negotiated with the questionable intelligence of a gigantic and alien insect queen, that alone a feat worthy to write stories about, but you even accepted her quest and succeeded in completing it, and damned be the consequences.

As she was the Guardian of the Elemental Key of Earth, it now belongs to you.

Skill unlocked: [Elemental Key of Earth]

Reards: 350 EP, 25 Shards]

[Level up! Lord Protector of Ravenport Lvl. 8!

New Gift gained: Reader of Ill Omens]

I now had two of the four keys needed to claim the Wyld for myself. The third one was with the Roc in the mountains or its nest in the giant trees and I still had no idea where to look for the fire key.

Now, so shortly after the battle, I was not quite keen to go looking for more trouble immediately, but I had to if I wanted to make a difference in the struggles of my brother Cogar up north. How fitting that I now seemed to have a way to spot said trouble with [Reader of Ill Omens], which I did not seem to be able to just activate on my own.

One thing was for certain, as I looked around the men and women in the loose knot of people crossing the Stormplains, I no longer was the only defender of note Ravenport had in its arsenal.

Seventeen [Free Knights of The Wyld] stood taller than ever and I would be a fool to underestimate the efficacy of the [Hunters] that had fought with and led us through danger and wilderness with unerring surety, not to speak about the impact of their bowmanship.

That group needed some recognition, and I was determined to create something that would honor them as I had done for the knights.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

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As we reached the shores and the tired fighters got rid of armor and weapons, too tired to even make the last trip to Ravenport proper, I found myself at a fire with Grim, Kara, and Ser Gideon. We all, through an unspoken agreement, were denied the simple pleasures of mingling with the others, through the fact of us being leaders of men, if by our own choices or not.

Kara was silent. She had been humbled, a lot had happened since she demanded being a part of this fight of ours in her tent in Beardale. She had faced the Kings and Queen of an insectoid race, she had crossed the Weirdwood, and battled the Weirderbeast for days. That made her grow up really quick. She was used to pain and tragedy, but...she was young.

Grim was silent. He always was. More than anyone I knew, he had always been more than life had meant for him to be. He was a cornerstone of Ravenport, with nothing but grim amusement and a bow, he faced the worst that fate had thrown at us, at him. He had been there when the Wounded Pride marched against Barak Bloodbraid, and he had followed me here. He was too stubborn to let the world tell him what he could and could not do, instead he rose to every occasion without fail.

Ser Gideon was silent. He had lost brothers and sisters in battle. His first battle as a person of authority, as a person made to lead. The cross was heavy to bear, as I felt the very same way. It had been my word that had sent them to their deaths. I could see it in his eyes. He was asking himself the very same questions I always asked myself when I threw myself around at night, unable to find sleep: Could I have done more? Could I have done something else? And yet, station forbid me to share his pain. For I needed to appear infallible and stoic in the face of indecision or the house of cards would come tumbling down. Same as he needed to be in the face of his fellow knights.

I was silent. Relieved, that I could shake part the burden of protecting Ravenport. Men and women had risen to the occasion. I had always felt the need to do everything by myself, but finally we had a force strong enough that survival in the Wyld would be possible in the long run. I was proud of those men and women around me. But then there was the Mad King and the cursed part of the Weirdwood. Again, a cold shower of shock I had experienced in the face of the power of the mightiest. I was so very far away from that level of power, despite all I had achieved so far.

Around us, somber thoughts disappeared in the festivities of those relieved to have survived a grueling battle. Us four, though ... never stopped staring into the flickering flames of the fire.

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Things calmed down quite a bit after we returned to the Wreckage and a couple of days passed without a disaster immediately looming on the horizon. Work progressed as normal once the people of Ravenport could leave the safety of the Wreckage again, with the force returned to hold the watch.

There still was a lot to do, there always would be, but it was nice to just...watch over it and stop the meddling for once. I watched the building crews go to work on their projects in the morning then retreated to my studies and training until the evening came and the culling of the Nightmares commenced. There was a new intensity in those taking part in the fights, a new determination to better themselves.

Kara had returned to Beardale, where she was needed to help Tonja with supervising and educating the young [Shamans] and [Seers]. We only had exchanged curt nods as she left. Grim had led his hunters into the Shattered Lands to restock our reserves of game for the coming winter and Ser Gideon and the Knights had returned to building their stronghold on top of the Needle.

I, well I could not return to the Fulcrum for now, in fear of retaliation from the godlings and gods of darkness. I had a lot of work to do on my own, despite training and education, such as restoring my Demesne to its former glory, working on a concept of an order for the hunters, and continuing to weave and forge new Skills.

First, I wanted a few days to work on the Raven‘s Nest, at least. The creation of the [Raven Companion] Skill for the knights had enlightened me to one fact: I could not escape being prayed to. The knights were doing it. Others were doing it as well. I saw the Essence trickling in.

And with nothing else immediately demanding my attention, now was as good a time as any. I asked two of the carpenter‘s apprentices, who had stayed back from the journey of the ships to oversee the repairs of the Wreckage, to help me with a few things and began to plan the shrine to the Wanderer I had promised to build.

There was not much to be done, to be honest, just a simple construction to allow for silent contemplation at a height where the winds could be quite violent and cold. I asked around the underbelly of the Wreckage until I found a couple of women competent in sowing and stitching and asked them to prepare a couple of feet of sailcloth stitched with a stylized raven I could cut into small banners to improvise a...shrine for myself. That word was hard to even think about.

With that done, I spent a lot of time with Lily to learn how to actually consecrate a space for myself. That was such a ludicrous idea that I did not know where to even start. Because gods and godlings usually didn't do these things alone. They had a church, a religion, priests, shamans, or whatever else they might fancy.

It boiled down to, as it always seemed to be, a couple of very easy things one needed to create something out of nothing. Space, intent, faith, and ritual. It needed to be a place of significance, the intent of a mortal to change the place, respect the place, and prepare it as a place of worship. This mortal would need faith, true faith in a higher being. If you had the basics, the rest would be done by the system.

Which meant that I could consecrate the shrine to the Wanderer, being part mortal myself. For me, though? I needed a priest.

That was...absurd. I needed a priest of my own. A religion practiced by actual people praying to me. The absurdity of it, the sheer hubris!

I actually might have walked a furrow into the deck of the Raven‘s Nest, trying to come up with a way to...finagle a solution to the problem. I had done it with the knights, making the order work without them having been open devotees of mine. Well, that had changed and I could have made it easier on myself, didn‘t I?

In the end, I could not do it. I could not walk up to another man and ask him to be my priest. Even thinking that brought cold sweat to my forehead. I would prepare the Raven’s Nest as best as I could and let destiny run its course.

Well, or ask smarter men, once they returned from their quests. Which had to be every day now.