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Masks: Greed
The Flood part 2- Brawls in The Tavern of Undead

The Flood part 2- Brawls in The Tavern of Undead

“Where is he?” Natravi asked, looking miffed.

“Still talking to Duke William, we’r-we were told to stay here and defend his home,” Luvirt spoke with slight stutter as he deviated from the common tongue. He motioned to the many mercenaries spread out on the courtyard. “With so many of us it should be an easy job and being so far from the city on a va-vantage point gives us an advantage.”

“How did it get so bad?” Fliss said as he leaned against his staff. A tear slowly rolled down her cheek as she remembered the last few moments.

………………………………………………………………………….

Two hours before they were in the duke’s courtyard, they were sitting in a secluded room on the top floor of the Mercenary guild. At least most of them were; Natravi and Volvo were leaning over the table immersing themselves in a heated conversation. Volvo wanted to get the money for his part immediately and leave on his trip ordained by the duke, however Natravi insisted he refuse the duke to fill out his end of the promise to wait for the two. They had begun by simply passing witty comments in the start but by now they were throwing out heated responses to the other…at least Volvo was, Natravi kept her voiced leveled and spoke in a slightly husky voiced.

“Haha,” Fliss nervously laughed. Turning to Peter he knocked knees and whispered. “How long do you think they will continue like this?”

“Don’t know,” Peter whispered back, fully immersed in their conversation. “I’ve never seen someone match Volvo in an argument, she’s going at this hard.”

“Natravi,” Luvrit said. “Perhaps the aristocrats you’ve dealt with were more merciful to those who disobeyed orders, but around here if you’re called upon by a duke to do something you have to answer the call or else everyone pays for your ins-insolence.”

“Its so funny to see Luvrit try to speak like that,” Peter whispered to Fliss and they both snickered quietly.

“AAAAAHHHH,” a scream broke through the walls, catching everyone’s attention. Fliss shuddered at the sound and looked at Volvo for instructions who, having recovered from momentary shock, nodded in their direction sending Peter out to investigate.

‘Maybe it’s a brawl out there’ Fliss thought. During his time in the city there had been little riots and even fewer coups, most of the time a cause for this level of concern was when a hot headed guy fell to provocations and start a brawl. Those, those were more common, especially in the Mercenary guild. But his thoughts were disproven when Peter returned.

“Ya need ta see this,” he said. Fliss knew it was a serious thing if Peter accidently used the villager’s speech. He knew Peter and Luvrit had lived as homeless kids in the city for a long time before Volvo found them, so their natural accent still resembled a villagers’, like him, but because of their position as respected mercenaries Volvo had taught them to use the common tongue so as not to be looked down upon. To slip back to the speech was the first warning sign they all picked up.

“Miss Natravi,” Volvo addressed. “Would you like to-”

“I’ll follow along with you some more,” Natravi interrupted. “Until uncle has returned.”

Forgetting about their argument for the moment they quickly made their way down the hallway and came to a stop atop the staircase. On the guild floor tables and chairs were beginning to be overturned as a few mercenaries and guards began filling in through the doors. From their attire Fliss could tell that there was a blood bath outside. Their weapons were slicked with blood as they made their way in deeper. However a few of the larger mercenaries sitting at their tables, whom he recognized as The Muscle group, didn’t take too kindly at having their drinks dropped and tables thrown over. They held off the people and kept them in their place while others poured in.

“What’s going on?” Luvrit asked. As if to answer his question the reason poured in over the stumbling people, flopping around and ripping off the necks of the unfortunate people. Fliss felt queasy when he saw the blood spray out incensing the people to push in harder and alarming others to join the scared crowd. Some were able to get through but because The Muscle group didn’t know what was happening they couldn’t get much further before the incoming pale bodies claimed their lives too.

“Buffoons!” Volvo roared. “Let them through.”

The leader of the group, the smaller of them all squinted in their direction but didn’t let go of the large five people he was holding off.

“They think it’s a coup,” Luvrit said in realization.

‘They must be trying to protect the registration ladies,’ Fliss thought. He knew one of them personally, played a lot with him during his early days as a mercenary, so Fliss knew that they didn’t hold any ill intentions, only ignorant ones.

“Zachery!” he shouted, catching the attention of the larger of their group. “They need help, someone’s killing them from the back.”

Fliss frantically pointed at the back where the undead had already killed off a quarter of them. The screams began vibrating the wood as the 50 or so people pushed against the 10 large men. Zachery shouted something under the shouts and scream to his leader. The man looked in their direction and after hearing their shouts of warning allowed the remaining to pass through. He unsheathed his sword, indicating the others to do the same and charged through to meet the group on the other side.

“Let’s go,” Volvo said, unclasping his mace from the side. By the time they reached the bottom steps a gap had appeared between those still alive and those struggling on the ground. The Muscle group had inspired a few others to join them in their fight and soon Nature’s call also joined.

Luvrit and Peter led the attack alongside the rest while Volvo began marching behind the line the mercenaries had held up against the undead. Fliss provided support with [Sagitta], throwing bottles and broken table legs through the gaps between them, pushing back any approaching enemies before the men took care of the rest. Volvo fixed any cracks that appeared in the wall they’d set up and slowly the rest began pushing back.

“GAH-” A loud sound of neck breaking came from the far right. Volvo quickly bounded towards the edge as the man fell and took his place. Volvo kicked the falling body back into the undead that crunched it quickly before staring at the replacement with hunger. Volvo tilted his mace and pushed with both hands pushing them back before taking out a dagger and stabbing the head of one of them. Another attacked from the edge of the walls but Volvo dodged to his left and elbowed the head of the monster a few times, incapacitating it when he crushed its head with his mace breaking the wall.

While Volvo took over the side and Natravi replaced Volvo’s position using her nimble figure to spin herself when attacking. Though it took more out of her Natravi’s attacks had her full weight behind them, making sure that whatever she touched died on the spot.

Eventually they were able to push past the doors and file out to the street. Whatever hope had begun building inside him vanished when he saw the condition the street was in before them. Fires had begun building up and spreading from the shops towards them adding to the smoky atmosphere of the night. On the street were hundreds of undead groveling on the screaming men, women and children. Seeing the sight of a beggar’s child getting pulled out of the alley screaming for his mother by the pelvis caused Fliss to almost puke. The image of the child’s pelvic area being torn as the undead bit down burned itself inside his mind.

Looking away from the destruction he focused on finding the street girl behind him. He turned around and saw the little girl standing behind the swinging doors, an expression of shock enveloping her face. Fliss ran back and jumped at the girl, covering her view from the destruction outside even though he knew she would remember what she saw, they always did.

“You stay with me okay?” Fliss asked. “Okay!?”

Fliss shouted once again, shaking her when he couldn’t reach her the first time. The girl came back from her shock and stared at his face, mirroring horror. Fliss desperately pulled her close and gave her a big hug. He could vaguely hear the crowd of the mercenaries and guards pass them by as they made their way out to join the other mercenaries. Fliss grabbed her hand, his own turning pale from the pressure and pulled her with him. She didn’t scream, nor did she resist, worrying the young man to no end.

When he reached outside he saw the mercenaries and guards facing off against the undead. The men cut off the arms, legs and heads as they progressed and for a moment he thought they had a chance with the speed they were moving, but then reality hit him and it hit hard. The men and women were only as powerful as the first few minutes of their strengths allowed them to be, after that tiredness became a factor in their fight and those who continued fighting in frenzy were the first to demonstrate that the undead were superior in stamina. They were too slow to counter the incoming undead so they fell setting off a chain of reactions which allowed the monster to gain ground. The undead, being soulless, held no sense of morale but the mercenaries and guards did and it fell alongside the lost ground.

Zachery was one of the first few to fall, his screams echoed over the others as he flayed around with a body stuck to his large shoulder. Fliss could see his friend yell out curses and warnings, but never did he ask for the others help he knew his time had come. Zachery had often told him of the ‘reality of the situation’, he knew when to call it quits, a major reason for why he worked on his body so much. It was something Fliss admired about the man. But now that his time had arrived and he knew he was going to die, being on the frontline, Zachery didn’t call for help and did his best to push on the incoming undead. Seeing his large friend fall over made Fliss feel small once again. The last it had happened was when Fliss had seen Peter run from the elder lich they were fighting in a cave. At the time he had been with the group for only three years, now even though he was older and stronger Fliss couldn’t help but feel the same as the 12 year old kid. Fliss turned to look the little girl, Malinu and in that desperate trembling figure he saw a reflection of himself when his hope was lost.

‘She need’s me’ Fliss ran this phrase through his mind as he willed himself to look away. Fliss looked around the street for his team, refusing to think them dead. He walked a few paces into the crowd and realized his second mistake.

The crowd was frightened, its morale low and its strong dying so the remaining few did what anyone would’ve, they ran back. Fliss was now caught in a current of fast runners, one of whose fist accidently caught him across the face, knocking him down. The feet trampled his small form but he kept moving, towards the most dangerous place he knew, the alleyway.

*Crunch*

“AHHH” Fliss yelled out. A foot had stomped the grip bonding Malinu to him, instinctively Fliss’s body pulled her hands away before he could realize the detrimental effects of his action. Malina screams reached his ears as she was swept away by the current of kicking feet. Fliss yelled for her to hold on but found himself unable to do anything as the kicks kept him away. He curled up in a ball around his staff and awaited the moment the feet would subside.

“Rah” a shout came from above him. Feeling the kicks no longer, Fliss opened his eyes to see Volvo drive the spike of the mace into an undead’s head above him. The drool of the creature fell on his face as its face turned to him; its dead lidless eyes stared deep into his own brown ones before Volvo pushed it away. A familiar tingling feeling made its way down his stomach and unto his crotch. Fliss blushed when he felt realized what was about to happen and pinched himself in the stomach to stop himself.

“Easy there Fliss, you’re good, you’re good,” Volvo repeated into his ears as he pulled him up. Behind him Fliss could see nicked faced of Luvrit and Peter and the backside of Natravi’s cloak.

Everything began to move slowly from there on. Volvo had started to pull him into the alleyway but Fliss resisted and turned to get Malinu, stopping dead in his tracks when he found her body. He could acutely sense the guys fighting off incoming undead but seeing her body lying on the ground getting chewed upon by undead had put him into shock.

“NO!” He shrieked, his shrill voice echoed in the sky, attracting the attention of the undead eating Malinu. Immediately he began murmuring under his breath as he pointed the staff at them.

“[Fortis sagitta]”

Fliss did not need to throw anything at them this time, for small shards from his staff were broken off and hurtled towards the eating undead, embedding themselves in their skulls from different directions. Fliss was tempted to repeat the spell once again when suddenly electricity was launched from his side, striking the undead to make fire. Fliss turned around and saw Natravi standing behind him.

“We need to go,” she said before he was picked up and pulled back.

“No!” Fliss fought back. “Her body, I won’t let them have her body. Let me go!”

“Calm down,” Natravi gritted through her teeth. Fliss’s elbow struck one of her rips causing her to gasp in pain and clutch her side, letting the boy go. Before Fliss could take a step in her direction Natravi spun him around with her free hand and slapped him across the face before he could react.

“I’ve burnt her body. They won’t be able to eat her; there is nothing back there for you.” Natravi hissed as she clutched her ribs. “Mr. Volvo! Let’s go.”

Loss was a regular customer at the tavern called ‘life’, for a mercenary at least, yet he had not become calloused to such a commodity. His feeling of helplessness a constant reminder of that fact as he was swept in the flow of movement alongside his comrades.

Volvo led the team through the streets in silence, sticking to the shadows as he progressed. When they came out the other end of the alleyway they saw just how wide the destruction had spread, almost mirroring that of the Mercenary Guild, except on a larger scale. The streets were feeding grounds for the undead. Fliss couldn’t see a chance where they would come out victorious from fighting for the screaming men and women. Even though he was scared, Fliss found solace knowing that his company wasn’t.

The city was ruined. The more they travelled through the alleys and inside broken houses the grimmer the reality was becoming. When they weren’t being attacked by undead they were met with the horror of seeing their home destroyed and people whom they greeted on a regular basis, like the baker, or the blacksmith, or the tailor die in agony.

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

It sickened Fliss to know that he shared the same base of power as the one who had casted the spell to control the dead to commit such a disaster. It sickened him even more when he found out what they had to do for those, still humans, in suffering.

“In times like these,” Volvo said wearily as he approached the whimpering man. The man had many claw marks and bites on him, it was a miracle he didn’t die yet. “It’s best to do it quick and mercilessly. Pass me a sword Luvrit.”

Luvrit handed Volvo his sword and Fliss watched from the back in horror as he pierced the heart of the pleading stranger, gurgling in his own blood, propped up against a broken home.

“No point in letting their numbers grow anymore than it already is, this is a job for you two,” Volvo indicated to Luvrit and Peter as he made his way between the stunned two. The look he gave Fliss as he passed by sent shivers down his spine; Volvo’s face was devoid of any emotion, a clear sign that he was mad. But Fliss didn’t share this with the others as they made their way towards the edge of the city. It wasn’t until they reached the trail uphill outside the city that Fliss realized they were going to the duke’s home.

The Duke’s Manor was a large building standing atop a hill overlooking the city. It was surrounded by a large cobblestone wall with guards posted atop watchtowers on each edge, two more guards stood behind the gates; peering at their approach from between the iron bars. Volvo was a well known individual in the city, his special treatment from the duke was no secret either, so it came as no surprise to Fliss when the gates were opened without even questioning them.

A clear path led to the entrance of the large manor with grass on either side; at least it would have been beautiful if the fog didn’t make it look so bleak. The dense fog that had grown with the swarm had settled into the courtyard, making the manor seem more daunting than hopeful. Its large windows spanned the entire bottom floor and its many attic windows made it look like a spider’s face staring down at Fliss through the thicket of fog, its small door-mouth spinning its web before injecting venom into the young boy.

Luckily, Natravi’s nudge brought him back to reality and that’s when he realized they weren’t alone in the courtyard. Like minded mercenaries had already sought refuge and were brooding in their individual groups. He was most relieved at finding that some civilians, such as the local baker and sews-tress were also among the few survivors. The more he waited with his group the more survivors or mercenaries came through those iron gates. Eventually the duke came out of his house and announced that he needed the company of all mercenary leaders. Their familiarity with the duke led Fliss to believe they were acquaintances of some sort.

All he could do was wait, wait for the meeting to be over, wait for Volvo’s instructions, or just wait for it all to be over. So Fliss waited, listening in on the conversations of his fellow comrades until Peter said something that brought him out of his depression.

“At least some survived.”

He was right. Those people were the lucky few able to get away from the swarm and find their way to shelter. Despite their haggard features they were unmistakably grateful for surviving, crying as they hugged their wives and children or friends. However that only made him realize how some unfortunate children couldn’t be hugged as lovingly now that they were dead.

“What are you looking at?” Fliss asked, pushing his regrets in the back. He’d noticed that Peter’s face sported a mischievous smile and following his line of line of sight Fliss saw that a mutual acquaintance of theirs had caught Peter’s attention. He was staring a beautiful woman, her fair skin sticking out in the dense fog and blue dress covered with beautiful embroidery whose detail one could not see from across the courtyard. Despite the chilly night she wore light attire and worked diligently to comfort the scared people, handing out blankets and sheets one by one. Even from afar Fliss could see how she resembled Saint Mina; they both had the same kind and determined expression and a jaw as sharp as a butcher’s knife. Except for the swords she was carrying, the resemblance was really shocking.

“Don’t,” Fliss warned, placing a hand on Peter’s stomach as he began to move. “You’ll just cause Volvo more trouble.”

“I’m not going to do anything, relax.” Peter tried, but Fliss’s hand stood firm. “I’m just going to help out, and you should too.”

“…Fine, but behave yourself.”

“Well, well, look who it is,” Peter exclaimed to no one in particular. “Who is the older one here?”

“Who is the smarter one?” Fliss shot back.

“What’re you talking about? I’m smart!”

“Who was the one that got us all banned from the Tipsy Tavern?” Fliss sarcastically tried to remember.

“That was completely Martha’s fault, she cheated on him.”

“You two,” Luvrit scolded. “Stop jesting and go help the lady.”

“With pleasure,” Peter grinned as he walked over to the dame in blue. She was currently giving away the last bunch of blankets to those sitting, so her back was turned towards them. Peter let himself admire the view discretely like he had done many times before. He was adept enough at such behavior to prevent Fliss from catching him in the act.

After receiving praise from the villagers she took her leave and went to greet the two mercenaries. Fliss’s eyes lit up in shock at how beautiful she was up close, like a pretty blonde from the paintings of Rufuss the Typical.

“Nice to meet you, Miss von Solus,” Fliss greeted. The lady gave Fliss a sweet smile before proceeding to slap his comrade across the face.

The sound of flesh against flesh seemed to reverberate through Peter. It was so loud that it even garnered the attention of a few mercenaries and villagers nearby.

“Peter, still giving a stiff welcome I see,” She scowled. “Your impoliteness must be curbed and I shall revel in providing a physical reminder every time we meet, would that motivate you to control your little Richard?”

Leaving Peter’s complexion to redden similar shades as the hand print, she addressed those nearby.

“Those with the same carnal thoughts, I beseech you shun those gazes.” The lady shouted, claiming the attention of everyone present. Feeling his own face burn in embarrassment Fliss elbowed his perverted comrade while the lady continued. “Lest I be forced to injunct your ranks as mercenaries removed. This crisis means nothing in the face of the Von Solus household, whose protection you are under need I remind you. If your actions infuriate me your means of alimentation will be taken away dooming you all to the lifestyle of beggars, so shun those gazes lest you prefer my wrath upon you. Thank you!”

Hands on her hips, she gave every man a cold glare to which they all shied away in response, hiding their own reddening faces. Returning her attention back at the two, who now stood with their heads bowed in respect she asked Fliss in a soft voice; “What were your intentions, little Fliss?”

“We were sent by Luvrit my lady, we just wanted to help you,” Fliss bonked Peter’s head before continuing, “and I apologize for Peter’s lecherous nature.”

“Alas, t’is the nature of every man,” She brought up Fliss’s head and smiled. “Except you perhaps, my faithful Fliss.” Suddenly she leaned back and propped a hand under her chin in a thinking pose. “Though I struggle to contemplate whether letting this jejunes man leave without consequence would be worth future tribulations.”

“I beg you my lady I will take greater care of this idiot around your presence, so please forgive him this once.”

“Very well, for your cordial presence I shall forgive him. Now about lending a hand,” She thought for a moment before continuing; “Come follow me,” she led them to the glass paneled doors of the mansion.

“Thank you Bertrand,” an old butler on the steps greeted her as he opened the doors.

“You shall inform Mathilda for some thicker cloth and sheets while I scour the attic for similar products, you shall find her relishing in the safety of the library.”

She picked up the pace walking towards the staircase in the middle of the hall. The house was only two stories with the staircase taking up most room in the large hall. Fliss and Peter admired the interior with open jaws as they followed her; after all it was only their second visit inside a noble’s house. Everything in the dim lighting seemed to be made from dark wood and elegantly made if the designs were anything to go by. The second story however couldn’t be seen from the base of the stairs, where the two had reached, the railing made of thick birch polls hid whatever lay beyond them.

“Um, where’s the library?” Fliss asked.

She turned around from the top of the stairs and pointed. “Follow that hallway on the right with the many glass windows; it shall be the last doorway at the end of the hall. Do be quick.”

“Yes ma’am,” Fliss said as he grabbed Peter forcibly and pulled him down the hallway. As they walked in silence he couldn’t help but admire the sudden change in beauty of the interior compared to the rest of the city. The mere hallway alone had painted walls; bearing an interesting design of a circular band with a dot at its center, and the crystalline glass windows showing less of what lay outside than the intricate designs they bore. His admiration however was interrupted when Peter cursed the lady’s keen eye.

“It’s your fault,” returning his attention to his friend, Fliss glared. “Why did you have to stare?”

“Oh and you’re so innocent,” Peter rolled his eyes as he came up next to him. “Every man does it, every man did it.”

“Not me.”

“You mean you like looking at guys? That might affect our relationship Fliss, oh and the horror that will befall the ladies; they all fall for pretty little you and turns out your looking at sweaty men for pleasure.”

“No and we’re not having this conversation here,” Fliss fumed. “You need to behave yourself especially around her. Remember Volvo’s warning? She can probably kill you this time around if you take things too far like last time and he can’t protect you when it comes to her.”

“Who said I need protection?” Peter stuck his tongue between his teeth to prevent himself from bursting into laughter. “I’ll just runaway.”

“Peter,” Fliss warned. “I really don’t-”

“Wait,” Peter flicked his hand to interrupt Fliss. “Haven’t you been looking at her body? She’s fat in all the wrong places for someone who is going to run. Her thighs are too fat and her chest is too heavy for long runs. Sure it’s a good view, but when the time comes to chasing me she not getting far. I’m a hunter so I know how to pick up these things and let me tell you she is the best someone like us is going to get.”

“Don’t put me in the same place as you,” Fliss scowled to which Peter chuckled. Despite the tense atmosphere his scowl looked rather cute. “I’m a better gentleman and if you’re so smart when it comes to ‘choosing targets’ then what happened with Martha?”

“I didn’t like her husband, the old coot spat in my drink.”

“Peter!”

While Peter and Fliss argued in the hallway, a very different scene was playing in the courtyard before Luvrit. He was clutching his side with one hand and had hid his mouth with the other to appear absolutely alert while he enjoyed the scene of a ‘Two strike’ mercenary flirting with Natravi. The responses and the advances of the duo were so predictable that he couldn’t help but laugh.

“You know, I’ve been around here most my life, but I have never seen someone as pretty as you before. You’re new around here aren’t you?” The ‘Two strike’ mercenary flexed his muscles and smiled.

“And imagine, if not for the death of half the town we would have never met each other.” Natravi responded, her voice despondence of any emotion.

The man smiled uneasily and tried once again; praising her beauty and how well matched they were. As it continued, some of Luvrit’s amusement turned into embarrassment as he realized that he had used similar pick-up lines in his teenage-hood and half in amusement at how annoyed Natravi was getting with each passing compliment. Luvrit could see that other like minded mercenaries were also staring with amusement, though none was clever enough to hide it.

As it played out the mercenary’s boasts suddenly turned into cries when Natravi grabbed his arm and twisted it around, locking it behind his back. Giving a strong shove she sent him stumbling forward, he tripped and fell flat on his face on a rock. A few mercenaries, scattered around the yard, snickered at the man’s failure giving away themselves as audience to the play. The man gathered his bearings and tried to stop the bleeding from his nose as he sat up.

“Shame on you,” Natravi glanced at the fallen man before turning towards the rest of mercenary audience, still relishing at the sight their smirks were quickly turning into shock and frowns. Natravi’s hands began creating sparks of blue light, illuminating the area around her. She looked up from her hands and glared at her audience, which Luvrit found arrogantly placed, before she spoke.

“The city is overrun with undead, half of it is undead and here we are; the survivors, the protectors of the city and its people. Everyone here has lost loved ones in this crisis, but it seems some of you want to lose some more before you are ready to realize reality of thous’t situation*Cough*People are dead, dying, or mourning their dead, and some of you seem to be unaware of this, continuing to pursue their carnal, animalistic desires. Perhaps they need to be reminded of how precious life is?”

Somehow Natravi’s voice had found its way behind Luvrit’s ears and even from such a distance was loud and clear. It sent shivers down his spine, knowing that she could be right behind him while what he saw was just an apparition. But whatever was happening her magic was involved, Luvrit was sure of it.

“If you still haven’t learnt something from this fallen man,” Natravi glared at the man. “Here ye me clearly, don’t take advantage of widows, orphans, or sisters grieving their loss. It’s frustrating dealing with rude men trying to flirt their way into bed during such times when we have lost someone close. Keep yourself to yourself and you wouldn’t have to go through a lot more than what he got.”

After giving a final glare that matched the mercenaries’, Natravi extinguished the lightening in her hands and walked back to stand beside Luvrit. Luvrit could see Natravi’s surprise as he glared. Natravi mirrored his stance and awaited the other’s explanation.

“That was wrong,” Luvrit finally spoke up.

“How so? Should have I let them play about with those mourning women while the rest of us do the work and watch over for their safety?” Natravi said.

“We are all just tense from this situation and a little flirting wasn-was not hurting anyone, it helped get rid of some tension…before you made matters worse,” Fliss huffed. “I don’t care what you do with others, but you’re travelling with us and now we have to watch our backs thanks to you not having the patience to tol-tolerate a man.”

“So you saw it transpire and yet…gambled with my reactions. Now you’re a sore loser berating me for your idleness…very well Luvrit.”

“Now hold on-”

“But surely they don’t think that they would get away with attacking us during the battle, everyone can see what they’re doing,” Natravi said.

“Drac was right, you’re not meant for battle. No matter how strong you are, you’ll not only get yourself killed but us along with you,” Luvrit pointed behind her. “Look around if you actually think someone will care about what happens to us. No one will miss you among the battle and when we’ve been stabbed in our backs the excuse of the undead doing it is as good a cover as any. I don’t care what you do, but since your with us for the time, you’ll be respectful to those whom we’ll have to rely on in battle. Otherwise you’ll be putting my whole team in jep-jeopardy…and if it comes to that then it’ll be me who stains my blade first not them.”

“Are you sure you want this?” Natravi said, sparks conducting between her fingers.

Luvrit was about to respond when the appearance of Peter and Fliss, hastily making their way towards them caught his attention. Noticing the change in his line of sight Natravi also turned to see the two coming over, carrying grey blankets within their arms. The looks on their faces told her something was wrong.

“What is it?” Luvrit whispered.

“I really need to tell you something.” Peter looked worriedly at Fliss, who seemed lost in thought, her own before continuing in a hushed voice. “Fliss and I found out what the plan is.”

“We’re gonna’ die,” Fliss mumbled, not registering where he was.

“What?!” Luvrit exclaimed.

“We have company,” Natravi whispered as she saw the lady approach from the corner of her eye.

Immediately Luvrit gave a hearty laugh before slapping the unsuspecting Fliss across the back and bringing him in a tight hug. Peter gave shallower laugh but also slapped the young magician. To Natravi the scene looked disturbingly natural; she made a point to remember their skills in acting. Once again, she spied on blond woman and like before was surprised to find a genuine expression of concern.

“Is all well?” she leaned to Natravi as she pointed to the two hugging.

“Fliss got scared by a spider,” Peter quickly answered in her stead.

“In my residence?” she shuddered involuntarily as she gazed up at the manor. “I had father designate the best cadre for extermination since last this occurred. I do apologize, next time I will employ the help myself.”

“What’s that? You scared too?” Peter said as he stretched his had around her shoulder. “Don’t worry this handsome rogue will protect you.”

The duke daughter didn’t take too lightly to Peter’s over familiar attitude and had him doubling over with an elbow to the ribs before anyone could react. By now, the other two had separated from their embrace and were silently judging Peter with smirks.

“Ah, My lady,” Luvrit said, as if remembering his company. He gave a low bow, soon followed by Natravi and Fliss, but it took Peter some time before he could join them. When everyone had bowed she raised her hands and spoke:

“Please rise and do forget the formalities. I should decide that in our precarious situation heirarchy does not matter, hmmm?”

“Very well…my lady,” Luvrit said as he straightened up stiffly.

“…Ah, Forgive me but it seems I have missed the recent addition to your group. I am called Lidia, what might be your namesake?” She said turning her attention to Natravi.

“This one is called Natravi, given name Natravi Suleiman Patrishni,” Natravi said coldly. She leaned closer and squinted her eyes, trying to gouge her reaction while the she moved opposite, leaning in discomfort. A ghost of a smile appeared on Natravi’s lips before it disappeared just as quickly and she leaned into her previous position. Draping a hand across her heart Natrvi continued; “T’is a pleasure to meet you Miss Lidia Von Solus, as per our amiable acquaintanceship, if you approve, I feel it dire for us to address the stativity of our enemies beyond the safety of this residence.”