🎵: Dash of the Daring, Rise of the Iron Will, Dreadful Dirge, Whispers of the Unseen

Lin rode up beside me, passing over a water skin. "You look half dead," she observed cheerfully. "How many songs do you have left in you if they try again?"

"Right now?" I took a long drink. "I might manage a lullaby. Badly."

She laughed, but her eyes were serious as she scanned the trees. "Well, try to rest that voice of yours. Something tells me we're not done with excitement for the day."

The sun was past its peak now; the road stretched endlessly ahead. Haven's Cross was still hours away, and despite our reinforcements, tension hung heavy in the air. The raiders had tried twice to free their companions—would they risk a third attempt against our strengthened numbers?

A shout from the perimeter interrupted her answer as they spotted more riders in the distance. But this time, they weren't charging. They were just... watching.

"They're tracking us," Old Tom growled. "Counting our numbers, looking for weaknesses."

Captain Reed nodded grimly. "Let them watch. Makes them easier to spot." She turned to her patrol. "Arrows nocked! They so much as twitch in our direction..."

The watching riders stayed with us for the next hour, keeping their distance but never quite disappearing. Sometimes we'd spot them on the ridgeline, dark silhouettes against the afternoon sky. Other times they'd parallel our course through breaks in the trees, just close enough to be seen.

"It's psychological," Master Dalen explained, noting my frequent glances at our shadows. "They want us on edge, waiting for an attack that might never come. Exhaustion and fear do half their work for them." I could feel the truth of her words in the tightening grip on my weapon.

The next few hours passed in tense vigilance. Captain Reed's patrol kept a wide perimeter as we moved, their blue cloaks visible through the trees.

The first glimpse of Haven's Cross came as we crested a hill—a mass of torchlight and lanterns spreading across the valley below, its high walls black against the star-filled sky. The sight drew a collective sigh of relief from our group.

"Assuming we actually make it there," one of the new prisoners muttered. "Night's not over yet."

Captain Reed cuffed him sharply. "Keep talking, and you'll make the journey gagged."

As we descended toward the city, I studied our original prisoners, particularly their leader. She'd been unusually subdued since the last battle, but something about her composure bothered me. She wasn't acting like someone who'd lost.

"Something's not right," I murmured to Master Dalen as we approached the city gates. "They're too calm."

The gates of Haven's Cross loomed before us, iron-reinforced oak stretching three stories high. Four guard towers flanked the approach, their watch fires burning bright against the night sky.

"State your business!" a voice called down from above.

"Captain Reed, returning with Master Dalen's caravan," she replied. "We have prisoners for the Watch—Black Scale Brigade members."

There was a noticeable pause before the response came. "Verification code?"

"Moonfall's shadow," Captain Reed answered, giving the correct code. "Now open up before—"

"Wrong response," our prisoner leader's smile widened, knowing the corrupt guards would reject any code given. "Should have been 'Dawnbreak's promise' this week."

The revelation struck like lightning - the gates of Haven's Cross had become our trap. Arrows rained down from corrupted guards above. Two of Reed's Bluecloaks fell instantly, their bodies crumpling before they could even draw weapons. A third died with a shocked gasp as one of our own escorts drove a sword through his back.

Two more escort members revealed their true colours, drawing weapons against us. Our "secured" prisoners shed their loose bonds, the leader's smirk confirming my worst fears.

"Black Scale in the guard ranks!" Old Tom's warning barely preceded the chaos.

The gates remained shut, trapping us in the killing ground before them. Our original prisoners somehow had loose bonds—they'd been working their way free for hours. A skull-masked mage appeared on the battlements, void energy crackling around his hands.

Name: Void Mage of the Black Scale Brigade

Classification: Human/Corrupted

Profession: Mage

Level: 12

Weight (kg): 75

Description: A sinister figure wrapped in black robes with a distinctive skull-shaped mask crafted from void-touched metal. Purple energy constantly crackles around his hands. For dramatic entrances, this guy definitely got the "dark and mysterious" memo - though the skull mask might be trying a bit too hard.

Identify Reached (Uncommon 4)

Identify (Uncommon 4)

Effect: All previous level effects, plus:

* Reveals material of the item (e.g., "Material: Leather").

Requirement for Uncommon 5: Identify10 Rare items

"Brendan! Song! Now!" Master Dalen's command cut through the confusion.

Rise of the Iron Will burst from my lips, its power flowing into our closest allies. Master Dalen, Old Tom, Pak, Lin, and Captain Reed's forms straightened as enhanced strength coursed through them. The prisoner leader lunged for me, clearly targeting my song, but Old Tom's empowered form intercepted her with devastating force, sending her crashing back.

You sing Rise of the Iron Will!

Allies Empowered: Master Dalen, Old Tom, Pak, Lin, Captain Reed

The skull-masked mage above unleashed void energy, creating patches of unnatural darkness around us. Master Dalen fought through it, reaching the prison wagon to protect our remaining captives, her enhanced strength driving back two turncoat guards.

A crossbow bolt whistled through the air - too close, too precise. Dodge Skill activated! Pure instinct saved me as I twisted away, the bolt missing my vital organs by inches. Retaliating, I executed an attack at my nearest attacker; the strike slowing him enough for Lori to finish with a clean shot.

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

You use Quick Jab!

Enemy wounded!

Dodge Reached (Common 2)

Dodge (Common 2)

Effect:

* Evasion: +4% chance to dodge physical attacks

* Finesse: +2 to initiative rolls

Special Move: Sidestep

Requirements for common 3:

* EXP Requirement: Gain an additional 200 EXP using Dodge.

* Skill Usage Requirements:

* Use Sidestep successfully in 3 battles.

* Dodge and counter-attack at least 2 times.

* Successfully dodge 1 area-of-effect attacks.

Sidestep

* Effect: Increase dodge chance by 10% for one turn

* Cooldown: 1 minute

* Mana: 4

* Activation: Instant (can be used as a reaction)

* Duration: 1 turn

* Limitations:

* Cannot be used while wearing heavy armour

* Breaks stealth/invisibility effects because of sudden movement

* Cannot be used if movement is impaired (paralyzed, rooted, etc.)

Captain Reed's battle cry rang out as she unleashed her enhanced strength, her blade becoming a blur that cut down three corrupt guards in a single devastating sequence. The gates finally opened, revealing reinforcements from the city proper, but the void mage prepared another spell.

BOOM!

Pure light exploded from within the city, catching the mage square in the chest and sending him tumbling from his perch. A white-robed figure emerged through the gates, their voice carrying absolute authority: "Enough of this nonsense. Drop your weapons or drop your lives. Choose quickly."

Battle Summary

Enemies Defeated: 6 captured (including fake guards), 2 killed, 4 fled

EXP Gained (You): 275

Loot: Void mage's mask, forged patrol insignias, coded battle plans, assorted weapons

The battlefield froze for a heartbeat, caught between the white-robed figure's power and the chaos of betrayal. The fight drained from our attackers as more city guards poured through the gates, surrounding the killing ground with levelled weapons and stern faces.

Our prisoner leader's smile had finally vanished, replaced by genuine concern as she stared at the white-robed figure. "A Light Weaver," she whispered. "They didn't tell us Haven's Cross had a Light Weaver."

Captain Reed directed the loyal members of her patrol to help secure the prisoners, while city guards took custody of the exposed traitors from the battlements. "Double restraints on all of them," she ordered. "And check those bonds properly this time."

The Light Weaver, a tall woman with silver-streaked hair, approached our group. Up close, her white robes seemed to emit a faint glow of their own. "Master Dalen," she inclined her head. "When we received your message about Black Scale Brigade prisoners, we expected trouble. Though perhaps not quite this much trouble.

As the Light Weaver's presence settled into the immediate chaos, I noticed movement in the shadows beyond the gates. More figures emerged from side streets - Black Scale reinforcements who'd been lying in wait, now caught between their exposed allies and the city guard's overwhelming numbers.

"Secure the perimeter!" Captain Reed's voice carried across the courtyard. "Check every shadow, every alley!" Her enhanced strength from my song still coursed through her as she subdued two more hidden attackers, trying to slip away.

Old Tom, likewise empowered, moved with surprising agility for his age, positioning himself between the skull-masked mage's fallen form and his would-be rescuers. "Not this time," he growled, crossbow trained on anyone who dared approach.

Master Dalen's analytical mind was already piecing together the implications. "They've compromised more than just the gate guard," she announced, examining markings on the captured equipment. "These are supply requisition stamps from three different districts."

The Light Weaver raised her hand, pale energy illuminating the darkened corners of the gateway. Two more hidden agents were revealed, their void-touched camouflage stripped away by her power. "The Black Scale's corruption runs deeper than we thought," she observed grimly. "But they've played their hand too soon."

Lin and Pak worked methodically through the prisoners, their enhanced strength making the task of proper restraints quick and efficient. This time, there would be no loose bonds, no convenient escapes.

"Check their boots," I suggested, remembering something from an old movie about prison breaks. "And their belts." My voice was raw from maintaining Rise of the Iron Will, but the battle song had served its purpose. Our trapped force had become the trappers, turning an ambush into a roundup.

The prisoner leader's earlier composure finally cracked as she watched her carefully laid plans collapse. "You do not know what's coming," she spat as guards secured her. "This city's roots are already—"

The Light Weaver silenced her with a gesture, white energy briefly flaring around the prisoner's throat. "Save your threats for the interrogators," she said calmly. "I'm sure they'll be interested in hearing about these 'roots' you mention."

New Character Met: Lady Moira

Name: Lady Moira

Classification: Human

Profession: Light Weaver

Class: Light Mage

Level: 15

Weight (kg): 77

Allegiance: Haven's Cross

Description: A tall woman with silver-streaked hair in white robes that seem to emit their own faint glow. Her mere presence radiates authority and magical power. Even her casual display of power makes void mages do impromptu flying lessons off battlements.

"Lady Moira," Master Dalen bowed slightly. "Your timing is impeccable."

"And this must be the bard," Lady Moira turned to me, her eyes seeming to look straight through me. She noticed Captain Reed as she glanced at her, and the effects of Rise of the Iron Will still visibly energized her. "One whose songs can enhance warriors, he seems, interesting."

I tried not to fidget under her gaze. "I'm just fulfilling your needs, my lady."

"Indeed." Her smile was knowing. "Though I suspect there's more to your songs than meets the ear. We shall speak more of this later."

"Next time," Old Tom said as we watched the prisoners being led away, "let's approach the city in daylight."

"Assuming there is a next time," Lin added, helping me stand as the last effects of Rise of the Iron Will faded. "Something tells me Haven's Cross won't be so welcoming to caravans for a while."

As the guards led the prisoners away, including our original captives, their leader paused near me. "We'll meet again, bard," she hissed. "The Black Scale Brigade has plans for singers like you."

"Move along." Lori shoved her forward, but I caught the concerned look she exchanged with Old Tom.

"Welcome to Haven's Cross," Lin said cheerfully, though she looked as exhausted as I felt. "See? Just like I said—big walls, bigger attitudes."

The city gates finally closed behind us, properly secured this time by verified loyal guards. Haven's Cross still stood, its security compromised but not broken.

As we passed through the gates, Haven's Cross garrison sprawled before us in orderly military precision. Unlike the chaotic charm of most towns, everything here served a purpose. Stone buildings lined the wide cobblestone streets in neat rows, their windows glowing with lamplight against the darkening sky. The garrison itself was essentially a small fortified city, built to house and train the region's defenders inside.

Watch fires burned atop guard towers spaced along the inner walls, their light catching on the blue-and-silver banners that marked this as official Crown territory. Patrols of guards moved with practiced efficiency, their boots clicking against the stones in perfect rhythm. Some wore the distinctive blue cloaks of Reed's border patrol, while others displayed the silver-trimmed uniforms of the garrison's permanent force.

The central keep rose above the other buildings, its weathered stone walls bearing the scars of past sieges. Multiple guard posts dotted its approach, and I counted at least three checkpoints we'd need to pass before reaching the guest quarters. Haven's Cross took its security seriously – though after tonight's revelation of traitors, I wondered if all these precautions were enough.

Merchants' stalls stood empty in what served as the garrison's market square, though they'd bustle with activity come morning. This wasn't just a military post–families lived here too, supporting the garrison's day-to-day needs. Children's toys lay scattered near doorways, and the smell of cooking fires drifted from the rows of housing where soldiers' families made their homes.

We passed the training yards, where even at this late hour, a few dedicated soldiers practiced their sword work under the watchful eyes of their instructors. The clash of steel on steel mixed with the distant sound of the garrison's chapel bells marking the evening hour.

"The guest quarters are this way," Lady Moira gestured toward a sturdy three-story building near the keep. "Simple accommodations, but secure. The garrison's bathhouse is adjacent if you wish to wash away the road's dust. I've arranged for food to be brought to your rooms."

I noticed how the other residents gave our group a wide berth, though their curious glances lingered on our weapons and battle-worn appearance. News would spread quickly in a place like this – by morning, everyone would know about the fight at the gates and the exposed traitors.

"Get some rest, all of you," Lady Moira instructed. "Tomorrow, we have much to discuss. Especially about these coded documents you've brought us."

As we walked towards the garrison's guest quarters, I couldn't help but notice how many eyes were following our group. Word of our battles had obviously preceded us.

"Stop thinking so loud," Master Dalen said beside me. "You've earned your rest. Tomorrow's problems can wait for tomorrow."

She was right, of course. But as I followed our escorts through the torch-lit streets, I couldn't shake the feeling that tomorrow's problems were going to be even more interesting than today's.