Pierce knelt on the bloodstained ground of the battlefield. Piles of corpses were still burning from where the Warlord’s army had stacked them. The smell of smoke and iron was heavy in the air, and he breathed in heavily. His brown robes concealed the light armor he wore under his robes. His hands dug into the blood-soaked earth as he carved a circle in the grass.
“Is it time?” another man behind him asked. His hair was black streaked with grey, and he carried three swords on him, a greatsword on his back and a long and short sword hung at his hip.
“Yes, I think it is,” Pierce said. “She’s as ready as we can make her in the time we have left.”
“The presence of the Warlord is troubling,” the other man said.
“I thought you’d be happy to at least learn your old apprentice is still alive,” Pierce said.
“Guinevere is a prodigy, but I fear she is bound to tightly to the customs of the gods,” the man said. “I gave her the foundation, but she will have to build herself up from there.”
“She cannot build herself up in Camelot,” Pierce said shaking his head sadly. “The oaths she is bound with will forever bind her to the will of lesser men.”
“I have faith in her,” the swordsman said.
“That is what I admire about you Sazu,” Pierce said. “You never cease to hope despite how the odds are stacked against us.”
“Hope is our greatest weapon against the gods,” Sazu said. “One day we will see the birth of a new way.”
“One day,” Pierce agreed. “but today, let’s go return Andromeda to her throne.”
---
Exar’kun winged his way east towards where the Lion Clan was said to live. The moors were completely unlike the Ancient Forest or the Underground They were outside the borders of Dracon and were a sort of no man’s land, inhospitable to most life only the Lion Clan had managed to eke out an existence on its windswept steps. Wide open spaces a barely a bush to be seen. Rolling hills covered in thick grass and rocks and boulders. I had around twenty-eight days before the Event, and I wanted to get at least one more piece of my armor set before that happened.
Spotting a group of humanoids Exar angled down, and we plunged through the clouds. His rough scales would have shredded the skin of my thighs if I didn’t have Troll Hide and the effect from my pauldrons. Dropping down he spread his wings landing lightly on the ground. The herd of cattle scattered in panic before the dragon, but we paid them no mind looking at the mounted herders. I could instantly tell the difference between this Clan and the others I had met. It was the amount of metal they carried, the other clans mostly had hide or leather armor their iron and steel reserved for their weapons. This clan wore chain and half plate armor their pauldrons, elbow and knee guards stylized to look like the heads of lions.
I slid off the back of Exar’kun and approached them. They had bows drawn on me but the strongest one of them was only Veteran rank, so I wasn’t worried.
Randren the Tamer, Gifted- humanoid/myrmidon, Veteran, Rank: 210
“What do you want Warlord?” he asked me, their bows still trained on my chest.
“I’ve come seeking the pieces of the armor of Aries,” I said. “I’ve been told your clan has one piece.”
“And if I told you we didn’t?” he asked.
A lie, Voidra said.
“I would say you were lying,” I responded. “Listen, you’re just out here minding your cattle. I’m a problem above your paygrade, just tell me where your leader is, and I’ll go become their problem.”
He thought about my words for a bit, apparently realizing that I was right and wanting to be rid of me. “The khan lies to the northeast; they are holding a sacred ceremony at the Stone Circle.”
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“You’ve been very helpful,” I said turning and jumping atop Exar’kun again.
We flew northeast. The sky was starting to darken with clouds, and I could feel a storm coming in. We spotted a massive hill in the distance and dove for it. The brewing storm clouds were still a few hours out and I didn’t want to see what being up in the air would do to me in the middle of a storm.
His feet clawed the ground as we landed, and I slid off. There was a palisade wall of logs and a moat around the hill, but it wouldn’t be enough to keep out a high ranked Mortal. I jumped over the gate landing on the other side and was greeted by a Shieldwall as dozens and dozens of warriors formed a line.
“I’m here for the armor of Ares,” I said deciding to jump straight to the heart of the matter. “Take me to your leader.”
--
Exar’kun stomped up the winding road up the hill as we were “escorted” up to the summit. A ring of stones similar to stone henge were arrayed in a circle a stone alter at their center. A throne of ivory adorned with animal pelts was set up and a woman sat there. Her hair was grey with age, but her features still were smooth with an unnatural beauty.
Meliana the Grey Huntress, Gifted- humanoid/myrmidon (lion), Exarch, Rank: 1023
“You are here for my Clan’s piece of the armor of Aries?” she asked, surveying me with a severe gaze.
“I’m here for my piece of the armor of Aries,” I corrected her. “Also, one of my people was sent here as an ambassador, what happened to her?”
“And what makes it yours?” Meliana asked ignoring my question about Syvia.
“the armor was made for the Warlord,” I said. “I am the Warlord.”
“The armor was made for Ares, what give you the right to inherit his legacy?” she asked me her voice never rising in inflection.
“The right of strength,” I said.
“We no longer keep to those traditions,” Meliana said. “They resulted in the deaths of to many of our clan for generations.”
“If you don’t follow those traditions than what traditions do you follow?” I asked.
“We keep to the Law of Family. The Law of Strength says that a man or woman should and can do whatever they want if they have the power to do so. The Law of Family says that a man or woman must always act with the interest of their people placed above their own.” She explained. “Tell me Mordred, do you have a family.”
“No,” I said. “I have those that are related to me by blood, but they aren’t on this world and I have no loyalty to them.”
“Then this will be a most hard law for you understand, is there no one you care for?” she asked. “This woman perhaps?”
Syvia was dragged before me by two armored warrior. She was gagged and in chains as they dropped her on the ground.
“There is someone, but not her,” I admitted cautiously.
“And what would you sacrifice for them?” she asked.
“Anything,” I responded.
“You seem so sure,” Meliana said with a cynical chuckle. “What if doing so required giving up being a champion and laying aside your dreams of godhood?”
That made me pause.
“You have not considered every possible cost yet,” she said. “But that is to be expected, you are young.”
I found her derisive words grating and had to hold my tongue as I stared her down. “I’m not here to debate philosophy with you. If you value your family as much as you say than hand over the piece of the armor and I’ll be on my way.”
“You don’t want to try and make me submit and join your army?” she asked, tilting her head to the side like a cat that had just had a mouse start talking to it.
“I don’t have a quest to do that, and I don’t need you,” I said. “I made a promise to someone that I wouldn’t strike first when starting wars and you haven’t given me a reason to attack you, yet.”
I didn’t receive an answer right away. Meliana studied me for several minutes before standing. “I must speak with my clan’s wise woman and consult our ancestors. You may take your woman with you whatever the outcome here.”
Can they actually do that or is just superstition? I asked Voidra.
Why would I know that? Voidra asked.
Because you’re a spirit that eats souls that die, I said.
Not all who die make it to us, Voidra said. Only those whose souls are damaged and have no ties to any other afterlife.
There are other afterlives? I asked.
Now isn’t the time for this discussion, Karnen reminded us.
Meliana rose and descended down a set of stone stairs into the ground below. My tremor soles let me detect the tunnels that ran beneath us before they disappeared out of range. I sat down cross-legged levitating Mab before me as I brought out my stylus and chisels. Taking out a bar of compressed rare metal I used Hell Dragon’s Armory to turn it into a spearhead. Then I began enchanting it carving in runes for extra bleed.
My battle against the abomination had taught me the importance of keeping all my weapons up to date. He’d been able to destroy my spearheads despite their incredible durability, but my new creations would be miles ahead of my past crude instruments. Several hours passed and I only created around five spearheads when Meliana returned.
“You are much more patient than you appeared at first,” she said.
“Let’s just say I’ve recently gone through a trial that forced a lot of self-reflection,” I said.
“Good,” Meliana said. “You will need that. Our ancestral spirit has decided to test you.”
Breathing out a sigh I stood up. “What do I need to fight?”
“You misunderstand, I have full confidence in your ability as a warrior,” Melania said. “We will test to see if you can be more than a Warlord, we will see if you are still a man.”