Unbound

Primordial in the desert. Undead. Paladins hunting our Unbound friend. Felix huffed a frustrated breath. Things are getting complicated.

Felix marched down the hall, Mind turning over with these new facts and threats. The information he'd gotten from the Prioress had been enlightening. While the Paladins hunting down heretics was vague, it jived with his visions: they were definitely hunting the Minotaur. Perhaps more, but that remained to be seen.

"Sir Nevarre! Please wait!"

He was halfway down the stairs when the voice called out to him. A flex of his Perception identified the Mender, though she was beyond the curve of the staircase, and he waited. Mender Dahria caught up a few moments later, panting.

"You—you are remarkably speedy, Sir Nevarre," she panted.

Huh. Didn't think I was moving all that fast. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing. The Prioress," Dahria pulled a thick, rectangular object from he robes. "She wanted you to have this. By way of thanks." She handed it to him.

It was a book. Wooden planks covered in fine leather, and on the front were a series of unfamiliar shapes, followed by a title in the common language. "The Vicissitudes. Huh." He cracked the spine and saw it was filled with slightly off-set print. He scratched his head and stowed it away in his satchel. "Thank her for me."

"I shall." He started to turn, but she reached a tentative hand for him. "My pardon, Sir Nevarre, but the Prioress also asked that I inquire about your potions. They are remarkably potent. Would you be willing to sell your stock to us? They would be of great use to the people of this region."

"Ah, no. I'll be needing what I have, but," Felix clucked his tongue. "But I represent someone that can make more of them. Maybe when I return, we can discuss starting some sort of...business agreement?"

Dahria licked her lips as if hesitating, but her Spirit surged excitedly. "Yes, that would be fine. We will expect you when you return from your journey."

Felix nodded and was gone before she could blink. He heard a soft exclamation from the Mender, which made him smile. High Agility was pretty damn fun sometimes.

Navigating the passages of the priory was as simple as reaching for the memory of his original climb, though he supposed he could have jumped off the bridge and onto the pews far below. That would have drawn attention though, and Felix figured he'd done quite enough of that. It was time to leave Bogfeld and move into the desert. Time felt like it was running out.

A few chambers from the inner courtyard, Felix found Zara and Evie being kept company by a gaggle of Menders. The women were laughing and smiling, which was a surprise, especially Zara. The woman had a humor about her, but it was usually so reserved, and Vess...her eyes were alight and her gesticulations wild as she told the tail end of some story.

"—I pulled the arrow out, and he gave me his barony, he was so grateful," Vess laughed. "He recanted later, and I did not hold him to the promise. Men will say the strangest things when under pressure."

"Oh not just men, my Lady," tittered one of the Menders. A Goblin, apparently.

"Lady Zara, you must show us the technique you used to reset that clavicle. It is a mending that does not take well, normally."

"Ah, perhaps another time. It seems our time with you is at an end," Zara said, and Felix knew she had spotted him. She smiled gently at the Menders and their disappointment was like a physical wave. He was surprised it didn't rattle the vases off the nearby mantle. "Felix."

"Zara. Vess." He turned to the Menders and inclined his head. "Menders."

The women eyed Felix—a number of them giving him a once over, he noticed—before thanking his friends and leaving.

"You two seem comfortable," he said, before correcting himself. "Oh. Three."

"Us? The Menders told us you were speaking with the Prioress," Evie shot back, raising an eyebrow. She had some sort of pastry in her hands and was leaning against the jamb of an adjoining room. "What happened?"

Felix started walking. "I'll tell you on the way. We have to move. Are you all finished helping?"

"We have reached the limit of the aid I can offer," Vess said, gathering her partisan into her arms. She blushed slightly. "I even gave away a few of my potions to the worst affected."

Zara patted her on the shoulder. "A generous move. I too have exhausted those that are worth the expense of my power. The rest will be healed by the Menders."

"Does everyone have the supplies we need?" he asked Evie.

She grinned, and a jaunty tune skipped across her Spirit. "About that...."

"I hate that I couldn't figure out a better plan," Felix muttered from atop one of many wagons currently rumbling toward the Caleph Pass. His hands loosely held onto a set of reins connected to a team of very stout looking avum. "Over the mountains, or perhaps through them. I feel...exposed."

His people were packed into the train of wagons, the entire company—giants included—stowed away among barrels of ale and liquor strong enough to strip paint. Ale and liquor that were almost all dosed with a little something Aenea had taught Felix to mix. It wasn't all Health and Mana potions in his stores, after all. The real trick, however, was making the Paladin's drunk enough to miss the Status Condition when it activated. That part relied heavily on just how potent the Lamia's Lament made their booze.

Though it had taken an effort of time and skill to arrange for the wagons, move the barrels, and hide his people—enough that evening was well on its way—they had left the town gates of Bogfeld in just a few hours. The Paladins stationed there gave them no trouble, thankfully. In fact, the woman at the front, Palin something or other, had barely stopped before being waved through. They moved slowly, a caravan not being the most speedy of conveyances, but the teams took them inexorably up the winding path toward the Pass...and the fortress within.

"We are too many now. Had we remained in our small team, we could have moved past them with ease," Vess pointed out.

"An' I don't like leavin' them at our backs," Harn added, not for the first time. "Your change to the plan isn't gonna save us trouble, Felix."

"For the last time, Harn, I'm not murdering people—" Felix began, also not for the first time.

"Ain't murderin' if you'll just be killin' them in battle later, is it?"

"You know what I'm talking about. I'm not doing it, and neither are any of you." Felix focused forward and flicked the reins. The wagon lurched forward slightly as the avum picked up speed. Vess had to pull the reins out of his grip and haul back slightly, slowing the team before they crashed into the wagon ahead of them. Felix grimaced apologetically. "Sorry. If things go to plan, then they'll never know we were here."

"Plan," Harn grumbled. "War or skirmish. Ain't never seen those work out whole."

The approach was relatively narrow, though the forest was cleared away and replaced with sharpened stakes in a complicated palisade around the entirety of the path. His people had scouted ahead and found that, while they could skirt Bogfeld, approaching the fort in the Pass was only possible from a single, armored direction. Moreover, there were perches for archers and pikemen aplenty on that palisade, but all of them were empty. Felix didn't understand why they were there in the first place.

"Isn't this place meant to defend against what comes out of the Expanse?" he asked.

"The Hills are a fractious place," Zara reminded him. She sat behind Felix and Vess, straddling a short keg of ale the same as Harn. Legionnaires were packed in, about ten of them, though more space was reserved for the other casks and barrels. "Many Princes would love to hold the Caleph Pass and the trade that moves through it."

Vess nodded. "Right. Tevin is only the most recent occupant of this region. I believe...Kaldis had claimed the Pass previously?"

Zara smiled. "Your father saw to an impressive education, your Grace. Yes, not thirty years ago this was all held by the Prince of Kaldis. And Ophale before that. On and on, conflict without end or purpose." The Sorcerer breathed through her nose, slowly, and shook her head. "So much conflict."

"And here we bring more," Felix said. "Your Continent is a rough place to live."

"I'll not argue that," Zara said.

"It can be beautiful, if we but try," Vess said.

Evie snorted from beside the wagon where she kept pace at a light jog. "I once saw a Lure Viper. Looks like shiny jewels until you grab it, which is when it sinks its nasty fang in and pumps you full of venom. Beautiful? Gimme ugly, at least then I ain't fooled when the bad stuff strikes."

Felix spared his friend a glance—she was in a nastier mood than usual. He lowered his voice. "You okay?"

Evie just grunted. "Nothin' a little fightin' won't fix."

Within his Spirit, Pit warbled in concern. Felix agreed, but now wasn't the time.

They had reached the fort.

Huge stone walls, almost black against the dusky-orange stone of the mountains to either side of them, it wasn't until they came closer that Felix could tell they were simply an incredibly dark red. Aside from the priory, it was the first proper stone structure they had seen. Everything else had been made from local lumber.

Darkened Duststone. A Tier VI Stone? He blinked in surprise after Eyeing the small fortress. It was as strong as the Temple walls back home. There goes the option of boring a hole through with Stone Shaping.

The mountains, however, offered some options. They were sturdy, but the dusky-orange rock—called Pale Duststone—was only Tier III. Except...the fort was likely mined from deeper in these mountains. So the mountains also can't be simply bored through, not by me at least. Felix expression firmed. Not yet.

The guards at top of the gate were young men in white and crimson tabards and simple leather armor. None of them looked older than fifteen or sixteen, and were all less than level twenty. Squires, his Eye told him, and obviously new recruits given grunt work. It was they who shouted about the wagons' approach and they who cranked open the sally port beside the larger main portcullis—a smaller entrance but still heavy if their sweat and labored breathing meant anything. From within strode a single figure, wrapped with that red platemail he'd seen in his visions. It was tailored to their form, fluted along the torso and pauldrons to resemble waves or perhaps flames, a motif that extended up to their visored great helm.

They strode out and planted themselves before the caravan.

"Who comes to the Purifying Flame?"

The what? Is that...his name? Or the fort's?

"Palis, of the Lamia's Lament, bringing the...requested delivery of ale and spirits," the woman said from the wagon in the front. She had insisted on coming, along with her crew of workers, in order to sell their ruse. Felix hadn't liked it, but it made sense.

"All that is ale and spirits?" the Paladin said, surprise and greed in his voice.

"It is. As requested by Sir Noxum, the entire stock of my tavern brought to the Purifying Flame's gates." Ah, they named the fort that. Felix was impressed. Not with the name, that was dumb, but the woman's voice barely shook at all, belying the absolute ocean of rage that boiled in her Spirit. "Free of charge."

The Paladin laughed, a short, cruel bark. "Good ol' Captain! Alright! Open the gates!" he shouted to the Squires up top. "On the double!"

Felix let out a small breath of relief. He hadn't been sure if the Paladins would inspect their wagons, but it seemed their eagerness to get drunk outweighed their caution. Just as he'd hoped.

The wagons rumbled through the gates, their covered tops just barely clearing the rising portcullis, and into a wide, dusty parade ground that was more than chock full of the bric-a-brac of an active fort. Men and women hustled by in full crimson armor, while smaller forms in pale tunics brushed and led avum around the periphery. There were several staircases leading up to the walls on the Bogfeld and desert side of the fort, where more Squires scurried to and fro while the larger Paladins only half-watched the sands of the Pass.

All of that came to a standstill as the wagons circled around the flagstone floor, and the Paladin from the gate shouted aloud.

“Tithe from the Lamia’s Lament!”

A man, larger than most, stepped out of a balcony on the far end of the courtyard. Felix's Eye hummed to life within him, pulling the man's details immediately.

Name: Captain Gregis Noxum, Paladin of the Pathless

Race: Human

Level: 52

HP: 8413/8413

SP: 9611/9723

MP: 899/899

Strength: Strength and Endurance are high. Has long reach with Greatswords, and strong armor plating.

Weakness: Agility and Dexterity lag behind Strength, Greatsword is slow to change direction.

He omitted the Lore entry on Humans, having seen that hundreds of times already, but was interested to note the Strength and Weakness entries were filled in. He hadn't fought the Paladins yet, but he'd seen the Minotaur manage it, and apparently his subconscious was paying attention.

Low Agility and Dexterity, huh? Do all Paladins share similar weaknesses? He let his Eye roam around the battlements as he hopped out of the wagon. Squires and Paladins of varying ranks were closing in on the parade grounds, their eyes eager and curious by turns. Many of the Paladins showed a high Strength and Endurance, but not all had a Greatsword and they showed the usual "More Data Required." None of the Squires had any details on their Strengths or Weaknesses, though they didn't matter as much—if it came down to it, the Squires would not be an obstacle.

"Palis! You've outdone yourself!" Gregis said from the balcony. "You have brought us a true bounty! A worthy reward for those that saved the lives of all of Bogfeld. Jakis! Ioldo! Aid the beautiful tavernkeep and her assistants!" He flung his hands outward as the sun blazed in the sky almost directly behind him through the gap in the mountains. "Let us celebrate!"

A boisterous cheer went up from the Paladins, loud enough that it buffeted the Squires and workers alike with its volume. The Paladins were all Journeyman Tier, after all. Felix mimed a stumble, hoping the others had the presence of mind to do the same. Someone clapped him on the back.

"Oi there! Don't be droppin' that keg, little Hill boy!" a Paladin said with a guffaw. Jakis. "Or else we'll take its worth outta your hide!"

That was met with more raucous laughter and another wave of pressure from their unfettered Spirits. Felix saw a number of Palis' Dwarven laborers fall to their knees under it all, but the Paladins didn't care a whit. A bared edge of someone else's Spirit caught his attention, and he met Evie's eyes just long enough to gesture a handsign.

The rough treatment stopped moments later as Gregis chastised his people. "Let the Untempereds unload their precious cargo in peace. The lot of you can start in on the roast our dear Squires have labored over!"

More cheers and the Paladins fell upon the spits of meat brought out by dozens of sweating Squires. Felix caught the eyes of his team.

Together, Felix and his team unloaded the best and most alcoholic of Palin's stock. It was all Journeyman Tier booze, potent enough to act as actual alcohol for the Tempered warriors, and in quantities enough to last them for days. The Dwarven laborers tapped the kegs, and soon full mugs were being passed around in the dry, thirsty air. Time fled as the Paladins feasted and drank enough to kill a thousand people back on Earth, their intense metabolisms and high Endurance and Vitality proving their mettle. Every once in a while though, a Squire would be too slow to get them some food or drink, and a cuff would send the poor dude into the dirt.

"Get a move on! Gregis don't wait for you, lilly boy!" Ioldo shouted at one such downed Squire. The apprentice scrambled to their feet, scalp still bleeding, and brought a tray of meat to the captain. Noxum simply took it without acknowledging the Squire, except to wave them away.

"Ripe pieces of shite. They deserve everything they'll get," Palis said, stepping up next to Felix. The orange haze of sunset had quickly transformed into the purpled shadows of early night. They had remained, hovering at the edges of the fort in case a barrel was tapped out and needed replacing. They had already gone through six man-sized kegs.

"You trust your concoctions?" she asked in a low mutter.

"You trust your brew?" he shot back. "They don't seem much the worse for wear."

"That's quality drink," she all but hissed. Her eyes darted among the walls and parade grounds, and fear rolled off her like a stink. "It'll impair them sooner or later, and keep your poisons hidden. Unless their Endurance is truly monstrous."

"Then it's just a matter of time," he said. "I had to guess on the dosage size for this many people, factoring in their Endurance and Vitality and how their Temper might affect it all."

"That mean it's not workin'?"

"That means it was complicated, lady," he said, forcing his voice to remain calm and low. He had no idea how good the enemy's Perception was, or what sort of sight or hearing Skills any of them might have. That lack made him more nervous than he cared to admit. He pushed steel into his voice, if only to hide his worry. "Trust. Just remember what you must do."

She looked at him, and the sense of fear redoubled. "A-aye. I will not forget."

Palin all but fled from him.

What was that about? he wondered. Pit trilled an uncaring shrug and huffed a bored breath. Yes yes. I'm sorry you're bored. Soon we'll be hip deep in undead, I'm sure, so enjoy boredom while it lasts.

Vess sent to him from across the grounds.

he signed back, Perception peeled for observers.

Shit. He blinked, trying to pull Mana from his eyes. He still wasn't sure how it happened or why, but now he knew why Palin got so spooked. Hopefully no one else saw that.

"Hey! Hey you! Why'd your eyes do that, eh?"

A Paladin, wobbling on his feet, jabbed a red-clad finger at his chest. Felix shifted just out of the way. "I'm sorry sir. I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't—don't tell me...you callin' me a liar?" he slurred. The man suddenly went from tottering to wrathful, his finger jabbing with all the pent up Strength of a drunk and a Journeyman Tier warrior. It hit Felix square in the sternum.

"AIIIIIIIIEEE!"

The Paladin howled in pain, his finger bent back on itself, crumpled inside the tin can of his gauntlet. Felix stood, utterly fine and equally annoyed. The nearest Paladins rose unsteadily to their feet, dropping bits of meat and beaten tin cutlery onto the flagstones. Without exception, they were all looking directly at Felix.

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