— Keira —

As Keir walked out of the village hall she was oddly surprised to notice there was the flicker of candle light and even a few mage lights visible within the windows of quite a few buildings. The streets of Still-Leaf were far from empty but there were at most half as many people out and about.

Almost immediately Keir noticed that something about the villagers who were hard at work seemed a bit off. It was only when they were about halfway to the tavern that she actually realized what it was. From what she had noticed since the village was resurrected by her system quest reward, the majority of the villagers were returned from the veil of death as basic undead. Of those still hard at work only about one in three were the simplest forms of undead.

After a scarce handful of steps she noticed something she thought may explain the shifted ratio of basic and higher undead. Of those who were clearly taking a break almost all of them were skeletons, zombies, and weak spectral undead. She made a mental note to confirm her suspicions with Antheia later but she suspected that the more basic undead were likely the least altered by their new nature. She would not be surprised to find that those same undead require food more often as well as something roughly analogous to sleep.

Her thoughts were interrupted as she sidestepped a jackalkin ghoul carrying a heavily rusted anvil that had to weigh at least four hundred pounds. That alone would not have broken her train of thought anymore than the dozen or more other people she’d given way for since the group had taken to the streets. The real distraction was almost running into Lovisa.

In a split second the pair of skilled elven warriors gracefully made way for each other, in the same direction. Instead of a smooth and discrete side step they came to a somewhat awkward halt with at most a handspan between them. Keir was torn between apologizing for being the cause and trying to make a joke about their rather clumsy attempt to prevent a collision. Before she could decide which barely muffled laughter rang out. Mesalin was standing on the other side of Lovisa, likely having been in the middle of conversing with her, was clearly trying to at least seem like she was trying to suppress her laughter.

She wasn’t the only council member who had stopped though from the way the others were acting she was likely the only one who had actually seen the near miss. She mostly schooled her expression and said “Even if you are looking for a chance to talk there’s no need to literally run into each other.”

Lovisa spun around and tried to respond but before she got more than a few aborted syllables out Mesalin had already joined the main group of counselors.

Keir hid the small reflexive smile Lovisa’s response had elicited and said “Jokes aside I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you.”

Lovisa spun around looking perhaps even more flustered and responded “You did?”

“I wanted to talk to you more regardless but aside from that I should really apologize.”

Lovisa was clearly somewhat surprised but before she could say anything Keir continued “I should have warned you I planned to nominate you as the new guard captain and councilor. I didn’t want things to be awkward if nothing came of it. It’s not an excuse but it is the reason I was a bit vague. I thought if you took the position we could celebrate both that and your discovery and if you either didn’t get voted in or refused the position we could just celebrate your achievement.” As Keir finished speaking, having only paused long enough to take the requisite breaths, she realized they were still standing in the middle of the road.

Lovisa looked a bit surprised by Keir’s rapid fire explanation but after a few seconds she smiled and said “Well I guess we have two things to celebrate.” and resumed walking towards the tavern though she was walking just a little slower than they had been.

— King Dalthorian Stonesheild —

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Dalthorian walked quickly making a beeline from his personal forge to the meeting chamber of the Elder Council. Though his sheer presence was enough to ensure his path was not impeded, the halls of his castle were a somewhat chaotic mess.

The news of the notification would have already caused a bit of a stir but a full meeting of the Elder Council at such short notice really amped up the tension. The council rarely agreed to a full meeting with less than a week of notice, or more often over a month. In Dalthorian’s experience there were only five things that reliably made them act so quickly; the threat of one or more of the truly dangerous creatures of The Great Beast Steppes approaching, war, a cave in, a truly impressive seam being found, or the desecration or dishonoring of the honored dead.

Thoughts of the fate of Still-Leaf stoked the forge of his rage. He could still clearly remember the moment just over half a decade ago. He’d known they were having some trouble but the report they had given when the village was hiring an adventurer was that everything was under control. He’d expected to either receive a request for assistance or news of resumed trade, instead a system notification had revealed that their alliance was broken as every resident of the village was deceased. He’d wanted to avenge their death but when his scouts revealed the damage to the serpent, honor dictated he allowed their own vengeance to run its course first.

Knowing that someone else had stolen their legacy and honor his rage turned incandescent and for a moment his adamantium control slipped. Heat swept off of his form in a wave that instantly replaced the subterranean chill with the heat of the forge. Several of the servants and bureaucrats collapsed and even the royal guard trembled.

He mentally cursed himself for losing control and the fools who’d earned his ire. At his tier he couldn’t afford such lapses. The fact that he would never intentionally take out his anger on his people prevented the death of at a minimum every person in the corridor. He turned towards the most coherent royal guard and said “Use whatever resources ya need ta ensure everyone ‘ere recovers, including yer men.”

Very little of the guard was visible under their heavy plate but the steel returned to their eyes and they saluted and said “Aye, sir.”

Dalthorian sent out a tiny pulse of power making a note for himself in the embers of his forge to remind himself to ensure proper reparations were paid to those present and continued to the council chambers.

— Dervla —

Dervla may have largely set aside her devotion to the Emerald Grove long ago; she was still a Thorn Guardian. That was why as the serpents flooded into Still-Leaf she pushed Cara back into the room they had borrowed in the village and retrieved her iron oak polearm.

The first giant viper that darted through the front door was met with the ax-like blade smashing through its skull. A thought caused thick thorns to further shatter the viper’s skull allowing the blade to be easily withdrawn with a squelch just in time for her to turn and meet the next serpent who launched their head through the window nearest her.

Cara not only didn’t have a combat class, she had no experience with battle. She did, however, have the innate magic of a dryad so as more snakes attacked she could at least help reinforce Dervla’s own innate regeneration.

As the snakes began arriving in pairs or even more and the sounds of battle filled the village around her, Dervla could only focus on the enemies in front of her. That was why she barely noticed the sound of splintering wood. The agonized and terrified scream that came from the room behind her, however, seized her entire attention. She spun around as the scream was cut off with a wet gurgle. Cara was limply spasming with a snake’s jaws clamped tight across her chest. Her pale wood grained skin rapidly turned black starting from where the fangs were embedded in her flesh.

In that moment she almost welcomed the agony as the viper she had been fighting struck her from behind. The last thing she saw as her vision went black was the limp corpse of the most important person in the world to her falling to the ground before her.

After what could have been a blink or thousand years she was once again standing in the front room talking to Cara. She was interrupted in mid sentence as the village alarm bells rang out. The bedroom had no windows and the only entrance was the doorway leading to the front room.

She may have long since set aside her devotion to the Emerald Grove but she was still a Thorn Guardian. No matter the danger she would always stand between it and Cara so she gently pushed Cara into the room and took up position with her iron oak polearm. Even as the first snake darted through the door and her body moved to strike a small part of her mind knew what was coming. It was the same that had happened over seven thousand times before. As she waited to hear and then see the death of Cara she wondered if she was being punished for her failure by the Emerald Grove if she was punishing herself for her failure. Before the fight could reach its inevitable conclusion she felt the ghost-like brush of Cara’s mind on her’s in the way it only did when they rested within their trees. After a second she heard a voice she never thought she would hear side from as a scream that said “I have finally managed to reach you. Follow my voice. It is long since past time for you to wake from this eternal nightmare.”