The first sign was the smell, acrid and sharp, it carried on the wind like a warning. Though it could not prepare them for what they found. As they crested a hill, the first planned stop of their journey came into view, the town of Beit Sarim, now a blackened ruin. Her buildings were charred skeletons, their wooden frames broken. Like a forest leveled by a wildfire, yet somehow worse, as if something had returned to the town and smashed all traces of human civilization after the fire. Corpses littered the ground, missing their skulls and most missing other portions of their body, as if something had preyed upon them.
“My lord, we can go around–”
“No, take us through the center, then spread out, find any survivors! Battlemages! Your time has come!” Ordered Liam.
“Yes sir!” Shouted Owen, pleased with the order of his own heart.
Armor was donned, weapons were drawn, and paladins dismounted the caravan, preparing grim faces for combat.
“Search the town, heal any survivors!” echoed through the caravan, knights dispersing into the long cooled ruins.
“Keep your eyes peeled men!” Called Owen, hopping off the wagon and tightening the last strap to his armor.
Velena led the way, summoning burning swords that floated behind her, like a blender of fire, while her apprentice left his position in the rearguard to follow her, a bit too eager for violence. Liam made a mental note of that. A paladin who failed to obey orders was often a landmine waiting to blow off your leg. Faelan guarded Velena’s rear, two spears of fire at the ready. She strode in the lead, stabbing several bodies and flipping them over with her blades. A cold tactic, but one that prevented any form of booby traps.
There were no sign of life, only the echoes of what had been. With silent coordination they swept through town, their footsteps muffled by a thick layer of ash. Once twitchy horses calmed, sensing the stillness. Liam scanned the town with all his senses, and detected nothing. No mana, no sounds, and no people.
Whatever had attacked the town had been thorough, and impossibly strong. Homes weren’t just burned but smashed and torn apart. Handmarks were left in the wood, Liam pressed his own hand into the print, finding that he could fit both of his hands inside the deformed wood. This wasn’t the work of a wandering fire giant or haphazard hellhound raid, no. This wreckage had been deliberate. Slain bodies had been beheaded, some dismembered. As if the enemy had thought the humans might rise from the dead and strike back. At the center of town stood a chapel, now a skeletal ruin with three walls burnt to cinders and the steeple tottering precariously.
It was just like Avignon. Pandora’s heart was hitting every farm on the continent and making them burn or bleed. She’ll never stop, not as long as she holds any power, Pandora will make humanity suffer.
They neared the center of town where the fire had been merciless, consuming everything in its path. Walls were little more than piles of ash, and the few stone building’s had their roofs caved in. Bodies choked the streets, gathered there after the fire had ravaged the town, and then beheaded. Paladins and Knights Templar retrieved the corpses, taking them to the edge of town in silence. Speaking in hushed tones only when necessary, their voices barely more than whispers. A funeral was held, the bodies encased in stone and sunk into the dirt to rest. This was the price of total war between gods. None were safe. Liam knew there were no survivors, yet he wandered the town with Karnak, searching for any sign of life with their enhanced senses.
This could have been Kheresh, or Sintra, or Greenhaven. If I hadn’t been there… Ah, I can’t be in every town and city! How can I save everyone? Thought Liam.
A dark thought from the depths of his memory crept into his mind.
Save everyone?
You couldn’t even save your mother.
People have died and are going to die.
Liam swallowed, but accepted the reality of war. It was not a question of saving everyone, but a question of how many he could save. A mission that was still weeks away. The average paladin level had been three, now it was seven, with multiple people reaching the pinnacle. Once they reached Greenwood he would repeat the powerleveling with Nyota and her children, their children–
–He tripped, stumbling over a body.
“You alright?” Asked Karnak, picking him up.
“It seems my thoughts grew so dark that I lost sight of the ground. I’m fine. Thank you.” Said Liam, dusting himself off.
Footprints showed the coming and going of horses and great clawed beasts with three toes, but monsters hadn’t done this. Some hostile and sapient race had leveled the town. Monsters wouldn’t smash every house and tear down every outhouse, nor would they kill more women and children than they could eat.
Ah, I know there are other continents, but Baron Green never bothered to learn about things he couldn’t fuck. Is this an invasion or some kind of local disagreement?
Thoughts of dopplegangers infiltrating towns sent a shudder through Liam’s spine. Something had rallied monsters against men, be it demons or some other intelligent evil. Or some acolyte of Pandora.
The paladins did not linger in the town, for there was nothing left for them here—only ghosts of the murdered past. Later that night the watch was doubled, a trench was dug with magic, and no fires were set. All for fear of monsters in the dark. Seasoned paladins now treated their march with the severity it demanded. None polished their armor, and some slept with naked blades in hand.
On the morrow Karnak led the caravan, staying ahead of the walking horses with his lycanthropic talents. Often running on all fours to scent the ground ahead and darting into the woods to chase trails, yet he always returned to the road, as if the road was oft hunted, or carried monsters just as it now carried men.
Owen and Velena spoke in hushed whispers, discussing the boot prints they’d found. Large men had attacked the town, with one or two clawed beasts serving as mounts. Hard to be precise when no one knew what the next portal would bring, or what the last portal had deposited in their nation.
They left Beit Sarim behind, traveling into rolling plains of farmland. Again the signs of strife reared their ugly heads. Farms that should have been empty were now awash in rotting grain. Where wild grasses and stubborn weeds began to usurp the human wheat. Land, once kissed by the gentle touch of rain and sun, now bore the signs of abandonment—its fences open and unguarded. Scarecrows stood forlorn amidst the wild growth, their garments tattered by the winds and their once-vigilant faces now faded. They stood as dead witnesses to the decay of what had been—a reminder of a time when the fields had been alive with the promise of plenty.
Liam considered stopping to harvest the wheat, but could see small bursts of mold on them. If he had access to a lab then mold could be cultivated into penicillin or other useful compounds, but with this world’s level of technology he was more likely to end up with a poisonous form of LSD than any kind of antibiotic. He shuddered.
Nope! No way in hell am I becoming the Lightning Lord of tripping balls. Would you even call that a Lightning Lord? Or would it be something like the Travel Lord? Time Lord? Naw, that would be lame.
Liam shook his head. They had enough problems without his stupid jokes or starting a ‘portal demons are our brothas from anotha motha’ cult.
The travelers pressed onward, seeking any signs of life. Quetz circled overhead, but reported no living beings within eyesight. While Liam scanned the world with his seven senses, detecting small bursts of mana hidden throughout the fields or clustered around the nearby river. Something was out there, and it did not wish to be found. Bird songs faded, leaving the paladins in an oppressive silence, broken only by the soft crunch of wagons across sandstone or the creak of an open gate swaying in the wind. Karnak took time to close most of them, sealing the fields once more.
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“Owen, these are the fields that feed Khereshatal are they not? Where are the farmers? I see no signs of violence, none of the fields are trampled.” Asked Liam, knowing that companies of the army had passed by these fields no longer than three months prior.
“Cause something killed them.” Muttered Velena, her eyes following Karnak like a hunter tracked his hunting dog; waiting for them to scare up a target.
“Aye. Tis the most likely fate my lord. If portals appeared nearby then towns would band together and isolated farmers would be forced to take up arms, or become bandits. Or if their lord was slain it could have led to the collapse of civility. These sorts of things happen quickly, one day the baron is alive and well, the next his whole family is beheaded and all laws break down. For they know the king will not spare any involved in a noble’s death.” Said Owen.
Liam wrinkled his nose at the mention of King Aldric, he was filthy rich, yet well known as a legendary miser. Hoarding wealth and keeping the nobility in check with protection, a rare bribe, or some token tax on trade through their territory. Something that allowed them to maintain a semblance of their own independence.
Where did all the wealth come from? Thought Liam, realizing Aldric’s fortunes were too grand for reason to permit.
Aldric, did you sell the kingdom to Pandora? Are you the gatekeeper who abandoned your watch?
The thought simultaneously made no sense, and was perfectly logical. At every step Aldric had opposed Liam yet clawed at his lands, murdering slaves, abandoning Kheresh, leaving Blackwood to play emperor in the north, all while reducing foreign trade. To top it off, the church –in all the centuries of its existence– had never been so pervasive, or less loyal to the Teutonic Codex. A creed that should have brought humanity and felinids closer, rather than separate them further.
Motion ahead brought Liam out of his thoughts, one and a half eyes poked around a wooden fence, scanning the party. Had Niana and Nyota not emulated the sneaky cat so often, he might not have picked up on the creature’s gaze, but thanks to his family, he did. Recalling the time a very similar cat had tried to eat him.
“Little cat, either say hello or I might think you intend to ambush us.” Called Liam, his words making the cat’s eye duck.
“I can still see you.” Said Liam, raising his finger towards the sabertoothed serval.
As a whole, the servals irritated him, clearly intelligent yet always opposed to collaboration, as if they were somehow descended from lonely wolves and not the pack based housecats. Maybe they stemmed from solitary jaguars and bore no internal resemblance to servals at all.
Before either could strike, Karnak bounded over the wall, a blur of dark fur and zealotry. The serval leapt towards him, landing on his chest and kicking off, somehow deflecting the far larger creature into the field, sending him rolling over four rows of wheat. Loud hissing accompanied the toss, startling Liam as he saw a werewolf get chucked by a glorified housecat.
“Did you see what I just saw?” Asked Liam, brows furrowing as he weighed Thaddeus’ words.
Had the old man dumped a worthless werewolf on him?
“Yes sir.” Said Owen, stepping from the wagon and drawing his sword with the fluid directness of a seasoned veteran.
Liam followed, though he carried no weapon, nor armor. Two shortcomings he would have to remedy once his body settled and he stopped altering it daily.
“The cat’s protecting a boy.” Called Karnak, brushing the wheat off his fur. “I can hear him breathing, but that– ack–”
Karnak gasped, his throat paralyzed by the serval’s third eye. He growled, a throaty rumble that Liam could feel inside his ribs, yet the serval maintained the spell, hitting Karnak with every ounce of mana he had.
“A serval protecting a boy? How intriguing.” Said Liam, breaking the paralysis with a snap of his fingers.
[Mana Domination] broke the spell, returning what little mana remained to the serval. It’s back arched, with all three eyes turning to face Liam. Each orb wider than the sun above.
“Settle down, I have business to attend elsewhere kitten. Cooperate and you won’t be harmed, unless you are protecting a kill, in which case, your life is already forfeit.” Said Liam.
The serval took two steps back, bunching to make itself seem smaller, a common maneuver he expected would end with the creature fleeing. Instead, it glanced behind the fence, a thin pile of half mortared stones that was barely opaque enough to conceal the other side.
Owen interplaced himself between Liam and the serval, protecting his lord with a naked sword, while Velena seemed to dance out of the wagon, two flaming swords hovering over her shoulders. All so Liam could lean over the fence, finding a child, no older than six curled up against the fence. Fast asleep.
“Well I'll be damned. Intelligent and cooperative.” Said Liam, climbing over the fence to stir the child awake.
His lips were cracked, and face flushed, as if he were fighting off an infection. Liam’s fingers touched his feverish forehead. Ash and mud fell free of the child’s clothes, and Liam spared a glance at his feet. Blood caked them, as if he’d run until blisters formed and popped, then kept running until new blisters formed in the craters of the old, popping when no puss could form.
“Owen, grab a waterskin.”
“My lord, that’s no cat, it’s a magical beast! I can’t–”
“Karnak can watch him. Besides, if fluffy decides to test me, he might discover that elves are superior to humans. Not least of all in magic.” Said Liam, giving the three eyed serval a wink.
If the sabertootheed serval had been cautious before, it took on a hypervigilant air, feigning relaxation as every muscle in its body coiled.
The child’s eyes opened, blearily scanning Liam’s face, a smile formed on his cracked lips, splitting with a drop of crimson blood. Then his eyes wandered to Liam’s ears, slowly roving across to Karnak.
Oh shit… Maybe I should have gotten the water… Waking up next to a werewolf and elf has got to be a kick in the pants!
“Hello, my name is Tufan, I'm- uh- a Paladin! With the fulminonimbus.” Said Liam, taking the waterskin from Owen and making a spectacle by pouring water from his empty hand into the vessel.
The boy jerked, facing Owen with a start, but the gray beard’s weathered face and emblazoned armor seemed to reassure the boy. He gave the waterskin a cautious sniff, eyes sparkling as a drop of cool water landed on his fingers. Like a starving dog he upended the skin, pouring the water down his throat more quickly than he could swallow.
“Ha, kid, you’ll give yourself hiccups! Take your time, and tell us what happened here. Where are the farmers?” Said Liam.
The boy drank for several long seconds then tried to stand, wincing and stumbling as his bloody feet pained him.
“Ah, careful. Here, allow me.” Said Liam, picking up the boy and sitting him on the nearby fence.
A gauntlet from Owen steadied the boy, and Liam took a moment to heal his feet. Though he sent a few healing pulses throughout his body. Magically scanning the child and finding overexerted muscles in the calves, thighs, glutes and lower back, as if from a great deal of running, an empty stomach, dehydration, and a number of bruises that hadn’t been visible. This boy had been beaten, then ran until he couldn’t. Two healing spells took care of everything pressing, fully convincing the boy of Liam’s paladin nature.
“Sir Paladin! They aint human! Big green, human shaped not humans! And their skin is all lumpy! They won’t let anyone leave!” Cried the boy, dirty tears beginning to flow as his body rehydrated.
Sobs wracked his body and the boy reached towards the only familiar creature, the saber toothed serval. Who caught a side eye from Liam and Owen, but when Liam flicked a finger towards the boy it approached, hopping onto the stone wall and nuzzling up next to the child, comforting him like a protective guard dog.
“What’s your name?” Asked Liam.
“Felix sir knight!” Answered the boy.
“You’ve done well to escape your attackers, but I’m going to go have a chat with them, can you describe their lumps?” Asked Liam.
“They were lumpy giants, taller than dad! Or him!” Said Felix, pointing to Karnak.
He probably means muscles, but how… I could ask Owen to flex, he is old enough to not be shy… Naw, he’s kinda chubby, Karnak is covered in fur, and Velena… Probably has a six pack, but I’m not sure I want to start asking the lady paladins to strip… Yeah… no. That’ll only encourage them.
Liam compromised, lifting his shirt to reveal the hints of a six pack. “Like these lumps but everywhere? Lumps that move when the green men moved?”
“Yessir! But ahhhh- bigger!” Wailed Felix.
Further conversation with the child was laborious, eventually forcing Owen to take him into the back of a wagon and feed him, as well as the serval, before he produced anything coherent. About a month prior a pair of the green brutes had arrived, taking farm animals and pounding the snot out of anyone they pleased, swiftly earning the ire of the whole town. The menfolk formed a posse and managed to kill both brutes in exchange for a few dozen broken bones. Unfortunately this had been a mistake. As the brute’s were only scouts. Much larger warriors soon came looking for them. Giants who slapped the farmers around, taking their livestock and plow horses before threatening to eat the humans if they failed to provide. Felix managed to escape after one of the brutes tossed him from the walls, losing interest when the boy had disappeared into the bushes. Between the boy’s sobs it became clear he’d intended to gain aid from Beit Sarim, the nearby town, currently an ash covered graveyard.
“My lord,” Began Owen, a raised hand from Liam forestalling any additional commentary.
“Yes yes, we’ll help if we are able. I may harbor a grudge against Kheresh, and King Aldric, but I'll take my half-kindred over marauders. Although, I intend to try reasoning with them first.” One glance at Owen’s open mouth made him continue, “That’s an order! Get moving.” Finished Liam.