Requiem.

We met up with the artist a few minutes later, away from traffic on the side of the road. He nods to Reginald and Darling before focusing his attention on us, “(Greetings, strange Sirs and Madam. I am a wandering bard, a collector and teller of tales, at your service,)” he gives a flourishing bow before rising and stroking his chin, “(Normally, I am not so forward but I must ask: What is so different about you and why was today’s tale of the Dread Fleet and not the Mirrored Moon?)”

He leans in conspiratorially, “(I’ve also never sung of the Dread Fleet quite that way before. It was quite the curiosity.)”

“{We have not heard those stories before and can only claim to be a set of fellow travelers. No real tales to our names, just making our way, exploring the world as it finds us,}” we echo his mannerisms and lower our voices to a whisper, “{As for the changes, we can only presume it was due to how we’ve shaped our hypertree of Undeath. We had recently been working on improving our cooperative abilities when your story drew it forth from within us. Greater than we imagined, and a true testament to your art and skill.}”

The bard hums and haws at our response, swaying his head as he soaks in our music, “(You are fascinatingly rare. Your words are true and false and both and neither all at once. The clearest thing of all though, is that while you may not yet have a story to share, you are certainly living the first lines of one at the very least. But, if you do not wish to share, I’ll not pry.)”

As we keep watch on our surroundings, we spot something near the base of the hill for the road we first took to reach the city. An obfuscation made more distinct by its vagueness at such a distance. A chill runs back our spine as that blur quickly shifts from that road to the end of the one we’re on now.

“(My Path put me at that gate today for a reason, and if all it meant was to meet you early. I’d consider that to be a wonderful day.)”

“{Your Path?}” We watch as the veiled area does not just sit at the edge of the city’s marked fields far off in the distance but starts a slow journey up the road towards us.

“(Just a bit of Fateful Luck as part of my Class. I seek stories and tales for the excitement of them, their knowing and the absolute joy in freely sharing them. This path has led me to story after tale after ballad, and I share them all as I can. Bringing hope, inspiration or even just a splash of entertainment. A simple smile during a hard time can sometimes be worth far more than mere wealth.)”

We continue our walk away from the city proper, the further away from the guards and that powerful Domain the better, should trouble start, “{And does this luck lead you to danger, to disaster as well, or just good memoirs for your collection?}”

He walks with us, absolutely unfettered by our status and free to follow his whims, “(Many a good sage can only be found in dangerous places and times. I’ve made it out of more bad situations than any person should. But only because I’m there to hear and witness and share the stories of others, not my own. I have forsaken my Name to have the opportunity to learn and survive what a mortal shouldn’t.)”

He turns serious and contemplative as he gazes at us once more, “(I sense some of that same, je ne sais quoi, from you. That feeling, more than my Path or my curiosity of your magic is what led me outside the city, beckoning you, seeking you. I have been sharing sagas for a long time, and I think the time has come to learn and listen once more.)”

We chuckle in our mirth, “{We’re not much for living stories, merely our lives for now. Though, we have a feeling that a change is coming upon us soon. Unless we’ve missed the signs, before too long, we’ll be meeting another in an intermission of their recent epic. Perhaps our fifth encounter with them shall bear more immediate fruit than the previous confrontations.}”

Our warning now shared with our party, Reginald having been informed about Wraithstorm picks up our clues. Even if neither of them has shown any notice to the shrouded approach closing in on us. It is keeping to a sedate pace, and the more we consider it, the possibility of peace in such a scenario seems more likely than if it had just been waiting beyond the city limits.

The bard makes small talk and inquiries with Darling and Reginald, listening to their words in much the same manner and he listened to ours. Capturing insight and uncovering deeper meaning. He tries to probe more deeply into Darling than he does Reginald, but we see how he reacts to each thing and the three of them speak. He knows that us and Darling almost certainly must be the more interesting people in our little group.

But with the skills he’s told us he has; he can’t help but know. Reginald is the one living in the cusp of something grand. Taking exile only because it’s the only real option, because you can’t really get lost in a city, from the people that run that city. Especially not when they found you when you were nobody, and now, circumstances have made that outstandingly false. Staying unknown as an unknown isn’t terribly difficult but hiding a blood diamond once it’s been revealed. Impossible. At least when the jewel would be trying to shine its enlightenment upon others.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

While we keep track of the nameless man with us, and near to vulnerable friend. We are also taxing ourselves by stretching and blending our domain once more, learning more of the rules and laws of this place to better empower ourselves. We also must keep focus upon the coming calamity and not let ourselves be ambushed from a lateral attack. If we didn’t truly understand how important it was for DM to get it right, we’d loathe the vulnerability we feel without their empowered presence.

Almost suddenly, the bard cocks their head to the side, as if hearing some far-off tune and the small talk dies down. Darling returns to the bastion of our flesh. While Reginald sinks deeper into a meditative stance, forgoing breath altogether, the beating of his heart stops and his movements both smooth and sharpen paradoxically. The tension of the moment doesn’t last that long before the cloud finally reaches us.

“{~You hobble yourself warrior. ~Being unconfined ~by the pulse of blood ~is far different ~from denying one of your ~senses,}” the dragon speaks as she is revealed. Not with malevolence as in the past, still with disharmony in her voice, but far less so.

“{What should we call you, in this place and time? While we were within the city walls, our hackles rose as we began to intone your taken name. Which would you give to us for this conversation?}”

“{~My children dubbed thee: ~Cool-Sweet Mountain. We~ suppose~ you~ could~… ~Call us ~Still Forest, ~for now.}”

We see how attuned Reginald has become in this state of breathlessness. He didn’t react to her first statement, but his energies concentrated intensely when her voice changed. Whether he understood it himself, or just picked up on our tension at that familiar cadence, we don’t know. Just the three of us here, speaking instead of fighting, is strange and yet a profoundly better situation than any prior meeting we’ve had.

“{Why here, why now?}”

“{We~ ~had a conversation with… ~an old friend. ~He hates himself ~more than we hate him. ~He still cares enough for me ~to incite my anger. ~He was not wrong,}” she takes a deep breath and the three of us opposite her brace ourselves, but she just lays on the ground, stretching herself out a bit. Both of us relax at her changed posture, she glances to our side and her tail flicks on the ground behind her.

“{~Do you know why ~I was hunting you, ~Cool-Sweet Mountain?}”

“{We believe you mentioned us being ‘marked by death yet changed it’ when we first spoke. We presume you mean our [Title], though are unsure what you think to gain from fighting us.}”

“{~Yes. ~Some [Titles] can be stolen ~or harvested. ~I, or rather: We~ ~wanted to take that rebirth from you. ~No. ~That is too great ~a falsehood to let lie ~in this here and now.}”

The emotions on display feel real, like this is the first time she is experiencing them, recognizing her story for what it is as she tells it. But somehow, we aren’t suspicious of an ulterior possibility. Once again, she glares at our empty side, looking at the ground opposite where Reginald is posted, still ready for battle.

“{~When I broke free from my prison, ~I was crazed, ~drunk with freedom ~and starved for vengeance. ~I found a new mother ~hidden in the trenches of the training grounds. ~I could scent the power on her. ~The same power on you. ~Worse than that ~I could feel her lover’s mark ~upon her and one of the ~babes in her arms. ~The mark of the man ~that died breaking the door on my cage.}”

“{The mother and children escaped. And they did so in a way that stopped you from tracking them. But then afterward, we walked into your country, and you found the other half of the [Title].}”

Our interruption seemed to both irritate and relieve her. Speaking from the soul, admitting faults and debts is a heavy thing, “{~Yes.}”

The silence stretches between us.

Darling can hear the impasse between the us monsters standing by the side of this road. She speaks briefly to an eye of Acolyte within us before choosing to fly out to make her case, “^Reginald. If your debt were relinquished, here and now. Why would you continue on this pilgrimage with Requiem and I?^”

This new question asked cuts through the tension and weight of the moment. Reginald takes his first breath since the start of the encounter, relaxing his stance, deferring to his Queen’s judgement of the situation. He opens his mouth to speak a couple of times, before closing it and thinking again. The significance of the question being asked now making him take the time to properly organize his thoughts.

“(I need the time, space, experience, and resources to fight my war. You have offered me the opportunity to earn and accumulate all those things. So long as I have patience, discipline, and understand that the way the war is fought matters. My challenge is not to the soldier obeying orders, the civilian growing the food they all eat. My blade is meant for the people abusing their power and the structure that keeps them free of consequences.)”

We nod at his answer as Darling glances at us and gives us a tilting gesture, “{Well stated.}” We break eye contact with the dragon and look to the sky after lowering that neck to give it a good scratch with our claws, “{Now, we’re confident we’ve recently heard another voice their understanding of scope and appropriate targets. Someone who is likely to have more experience than either ourselves or Darling in the matter of warfare, both of us being relatively pacifists in the grand scheme of things.}”

Our gaze drifts between the two marred fighters. Both betrayed and killed by the one that was supposed to care for them, even as they faithfully served. Both having been brought back by arcana alien to who they used to be. Both on campaigns of vengeance, and neither really in a position to truly leave this burden behind them, their need for some kind of resolution is too great.

“{Hmm. We’re sure it will come to us eventually. Until then, Yojimbo offered us an invitation to meet with him again after we completed our business in the city. After signing off on the creation of our little Clan, we think it best if he meets all of us. Perhaps have some tea.}”