Upon waking the next morning, Gwenyfar Ravenspire heard the cry of a woman, yelling as loud as she could for them to, “Wake up! Get ready! Get dressed! Get some food to eat! Then get outside!” It didn't help that whoever the woman was, repeated the chanting followed with stomping that shook the floorboards as she passed by. Gwenyfar could only imagine what she looked like. Groaning softly, her arms and legs ached horribly from the previous days ride and the work from the smithy. Still, she could smell the smell of charcoal and fire upon her skin and in her hair. But it was a smell that she enjoyed more than she despised. Forcing herself from the blankets, Gwen walked across the hewn boards to the water bowl, and dipped her hands into the water, splashing it vigorously on her grime covered face. Looking out the window, she could see the sun just on the horizon, sending its glorious rays of sunshine across the Cross Roads.

Moving away from the water bowl, Gwen headed to her rucksack and began to dress herself, undergarments first, then her trousers, blouse, followed by her boots. She saved the best for last, her armor. She slid the leather jerkin over her head until it rested on her shoulders, and fastened the laces on her chest, next came her embossed leather bracers. She placed each leather spauldron upon her shoulder and tightened the laces again until it fit snuggly.

Gwenyfar sheathed her sword at her hip into a black leather sheath case, and her dagger into her coal black boots. Finally, she put her green cloak upon her back and then strapped her wooden targe upon her back, the curious design of the Raven flying into the sun visible for all to see. Once fully prepared, Gwen headed downstairs to tavern below, the smell of cooking food filling her nose.

She found the Kevil Arms remotely empty save for a few clientele who sat around the bar counter, supping on some early morning breakfast. She took a seat amongst them and ordered a small plate of eggs with toast and an apple, along with a mug full of meade. The barkeep, a man older than her, told her the food was on the house since she had signed up under the Consano as a recruit, yet she still slid him five bronze coins. Taking things for free never settled well with Gwenyfar. It made her feel guilty, as if she hadn't rightful earned it. After her short breakfast, the barkeep informed her that the people she wanted to speak to were already outside readying the horses. With a polite, ”Thank you.” Gwenyfar headed out the door.

She spotted the woman who she presumed to be the one who had woken them with her rhythmic chanting. The woman was exceptionally dressed in armor, of what Gwen guessed to be steel; with raven black hair and pallid skin. Gwenyfar also took note of a man next to her, slightly grizzled, but still handsome none the less. The duo were bringing about the horses and tying their reins to the hitching posts outside of the inn. She noticed another, an olive skinned woman, with quite the luck in beauty. Scanning the area, she didn't see Asper outside yet, so she presumed him to still be in the barn.

Gwenyfar moved silently past the triage and headed straight for the barn. She entered the dimly lit byre, and clucked her tongue respectfully until Asper poked his head out over the stall and gave a friendly neigh.

“Good morning friend.” She held out her hand to him, and he responded by pressing his muzzle into her hand. Reaching up, she wrapped her hands about his neck and breathed in his earthy scent.

“We have quite the adventure ahead of us, let us see what lies ahead.” With that, Gwen opened up the stall door and began to quickly groom him. She knew she didn't have much time before the others showed up outside as well. Her lithe hands moved over his dark bay coat, removing any dirt and straw that had become stuck to him. She emptied his hooves of dirt with a pick, and threw his saddle blanket onto his back. Gwen then threw his saddle on top, and reached under his belly to cinch the girth before slipping his reins on over his head. With that, Asper and Gwenyfar exited the barn into the morning sunshine.

Moving to an unoccupied hitching post, Gwenyfar tied her steeds reins to the post and stood quietly beside him. She caught the words of the dark skinned woman with black tresses, inquiring about if anyone was bringing dried herbs or fruit.

Gwen looked to her and said in a straight voice, “If no one has, you can simply forage for it. Lest you're afraid of what lurks in the bushes.” Here she offered a ghost of a smile to the woman with a wink to follow before turning her gaze back to the other two who she assumed to be the ones in charge of the recruiting.

Buxton welcomed Karen with a warm smile, "Good morning recruit. Was no trouble, although most of the thanks should go to the Innkeeper and the stable-boy; they moved most of them before we even came out." Buxton found her gaze quickly scanning around for the said stable boy but realised she hadn't seem him herself that morning. She went to respond to the question about food when a newcomer interjected "If no one has, you can simply forage for it. Lest you're afraid of what lurks in the bushes.” Buxton shared a raised eyebrow with Chester and with a flick of her eyes told him to speak to whoever this newcomer was.

"As for provision, if you look in your saddle bag you should find fruit, nuts, cured beef, bread and two water skins. I advice buying and carrying as much extra food as you can because we will likely be living off the land for the most part; no easy task up North, especially during this time of the year." Buxton said the words loud enough for both parties to hear in an attempt to avoid having to repeat herself.

Chester was happy to step away from Karen, feeling unreasonably awkward after having overheard her and the magician the night before. "And whom, my lady, would you be?" he requested of the brown haired vixen before him, looking straight into her warm eyes. Though his words were fairly friendly, his tone was somewhat more serious. As polite as he liked to be, he would need to be more austere from today onwards and a random arrival was not something he could just glance over. "You wouldn't by any chance be Gwenyfar Ravenspire? The addition that conscripted herself without notice sometime last night?" He wasn't angry with her, but he did intend to test her.

“Hmmmm....” Was all Karen said at first when the woman interrupted her. It was obvious she was another Consano candidate... probably one that arrived too late after all of them had went to bed, so she was probably going to try talk to Sir Chester and Lady Buxton about joining now. It wasn't a bad plan, and considering they were already shorthanded for such expedition another fighting hand would have been of quite the help. This one had the body of a fighter, seemed also accustomed to holding and wearing a sword. The woman seemed experienced enough to be of help in this expedition. Besides they had the priest who didn't know jack about fighting with the sword he carried and they most likely also were going to take that weak looking woman, who probably was a doctor.

“Tell me then, do you start searching for the herbs for preparing the medical compresses after a person is already wounded and bleeding? Or are you starting to forage for proper ingredients for tea everyday in a hostile land? The more north we go the less chances for forage will be present. Not to mention the plague is spreading through body liquids. There are herbs that are needed at the ground... what if we made a bandage with herbs that were coated with a plague victim's blood at some point without us knowing?!” Karen stated as she was preparing her own horse.” Besides things such as herbs and dried fruits should be bought in advance as they make fine addition to food. Expedition like this one should keep morale up, no better way to do that than a good tasty meal every now and then.” She replied her reasons for asking if those things were going to be prepared in advance. She had already bought a small amount of different herbs and dried fruits, but she had nowhere near enough to provide enough for the whole expedition for even one round of bandages or meal.

The man who spoke to her, addressed her in a serious tone, though still polite. Gwenyfar bowed at the waist to him and answered dutifully. She would adhere to the foreign woman in due time, but this was needed first. The man had light brown eyes with black hair, and thick dark brows to match. To her, he looked as if he had seen a great deal of wars or battles in his lifetime. But there was something else behind those eyes, something that she couldn't place just yet.

“Aye. ‘Twas I. I am Gwenyfar Ravenspire, daughter of Agnar Ravenspire, the smith from Amaranth Village. Though I am no longer his daughter nor he my father.

I heard of your need of recruits and had only signed my name last night. I found the inn to be empty of any recruiting officers, so I added my name to your list. If you doubt my appearance allow me to elaborate. I am a woman of many skills. Not only do I know how to wield my blade, I know how to sharpen it, mend it, and skin any man’s hide with it. I am also a smith. I know how to forge various items from your common iron dagger to a steel blade, be it short, long or broad; as well as the finer side of smithing with jewelry and the like. I am not afraid of death for I have killed many.

I am a sellsword by trade if you truly want to know. I live by my own moral code of ethics, of integrity, honesty, clarity and enlightenment. I figure that I can at least be but a footsoldier for the Consano to rid the world of this awful plague, and the havoc the dead have wrought. I am a free woman and intend to continue being one, despite any man or plague lest I am rendered incapable of raising my blade.” With that Gwenyfar finished and kept her gaze solidious with his. Her face void of any emotion except determination.

She did not mean to challenge the man, but at least she could get her two coppers in before they turned her away. Besides, she had her own mount. Asper pawed the ground repeatedly as affirming Gwenyfar's very own words. Which led in turn to a gentle pull of the reins from Gwen’s encircled hand. “What say you, my liege? Will you accept my blade and hand?” Here she extended her own hand out to him for him to shake in agreement.

Chester listened intently to the woman as she explained herself. He would not get the chance to question her further before taking off (not that questioning had been too indepth thus far), and so he was careful to take in every detail. "Your family name does not ring familiar, I'm afraid, but then there are few names in the Kingdom that I would recognise." he said in contemplation. He might have thought he'd recognise a blacksmith's name, as he had dealt with many during his time in the military. "As for your intentions, they sound noble enough although in my experience sellswords are rarely so chivalrous - I imagine the pay, if we're successful, must be of quite the draw?"

He stood there for a moment, gazing into her eyes to see any signs of wavering. But he saw none. "It matters little. We need more trained fighters and I'll be glad to have a smith along. Get yourself prepped and introduce yourself to your fellow recruits." and with that he finally took grasp of her hand, his metallic gauntlets no doubt causing her hands quite the chill.

Buxton looked upon the large group of people now assembled on the street outside of the inn. Between the morning dampness, the horses and the recruits, the ground had quickly become soft and mushy, with more than one man nearly slipping over. Her own boots had sunk into the mud and she could feel the cold begin to seep through the leather. Each recruit seemed to have a slightly different expression, from those clearly fearing that they were about to set off towards their death, to those that seemed almost excited, and even a few that seemed entirely unphased or otherwise too disciplined to show their true feelings. The scent of alcohol even lingered on a few of their breaths. Buxton let out a quiet sigh, not loud or obvious enough for anyone to notice. Each man and woman brought something to the Consano, be it combat prowess, magic or some useful knowledge, but they seemed far from the elite platoon she was hoping for. Far from the elite platoon that they needed. Chester took a stand by her side, his feet shoulder-width apart with his hands behind his back; a perfect example of discipline if ever there was one. “Will you be addressing them? Or shall I?” he whispered, secretly hoping that she would give him the chance (for it had been years since he was last granted the opportunity).

“I’ll address them; I am the leader of this taskforce after all.” she answered nonchalantly, not thinking too much about it. “If you could get their attention though?” she shared a brief smile with Chester and begun trying to get her thoughts in order.

“Atten-shun!” Chester boomed, his voice striking fear into some nearby birds and undoubtedly waking up even more locals. The recruits seemed to freeze for a moment before taking in the order. The senior soldiers quickly whipped themselves into a straight pose with their hands by their sides, whilst others poorly tried to emulate the pose or simply stood there bewildered. “Squad! When I say attention you better fucking stand at attention! That means you get into rank and file, and you stand up straight with your mouths shut! Understood?” he did not wait for an answer, but rather followed up with a repeat of his command “Atten-shun!” This time the platoon complied correctly, although in a much more slow and clumsily way than either Chester or Buxton preferred.

Buxton gave Chester a small thankful nod before taking a deep breath. “Recruits! You stand here today because you have bravely enlisted to the Consano. Because you have shown moral fortitude and strength beyond those of normal men. You are the only bulwark against an evil that threatens to consume this land and its people. There will be no legions marching north, no fleets weathering the harsh north seas, no priests to deliver a cure. You cannot fail. We cannot fail.” her words may not have been as inspiring as those found in the old poems and tales, but the weight of her message was heavy. “Our goal is to investigate the plague, to learn of its source and those responsible. If successful, we will attempt to destroy the source and bring those responsible to justice. We will begin our inquisition by travelling to Minorhold in the East. We have not had contact with them for six days, but according to rumours circulating throughout the refugees it appears to holding itself. The forth legion under command of Sir Griffin should have garrisoned the city just after we lost contact. We need to discover whether the city still stands and if so, why they’ve cut off contact. Throughout the mission we will continue to send progress reports back to the King, so if anyone deserts they will become some of the most wanted men in the world.”

Buxton paused to let the words sink in. If there was a point where she expected people to suddenly back out it would be now. Happily however no one seemed to waver. ”We will have to act with precision, stealth and intelligence if we hope to survive. To do this we may at times have to act in smaller groups, and so you will be split into three squads. I will be leading Squad 1, Sir Chester will be leading Squad 2, and Walter Finn shall be leading Squad 3.

Squad 1 will consist of Karen, Shikoba, Mathis, Gawain and Gwenyfar.

Squad 2 will consist of Orwen, Drusus, Sarah and Zacharias.

And Squad 3 shall consist of- well- you know who your lad’s are Walter.

From this moment on, you are no longer recruits. You have pledged yourselves and now are members of the Consano. You are not soldiers, knights or mercenaries, you are agents. May your Gods give you light as we enter the dark, may your swords stay sharp as you fight our enemies, and may your names live on in eternity as the heroes who brought an end to this plague. Agents, may luck be with us all.”

With that Buxton spun on the heel of her boots and strolled off towards her horse, a stocky russet mare with an unusually thick mane and heavy coat. Her name was Brogna, and she was a Highland Horse (or Cliff Horse) bred in the mountainous areas North of Cliffton. Countess Bree, the ruler of Cliffton, sent the horse to the Cross Roads as a gift to her daughter. It was not used to Buxton, nor Buxton used to her, but they would need to get used to each other quickly.

Sir Chester, with his superior’s speech to an end, once again addressed the agents. ”Right then Agents! Get yourselves saddled up! If you didn’t take the chance to get prepared then tough luck, we are leaving!”

The Consano had been on the move for three days. While several of the company had horses available, this was not the case for all. Their progress had suffered as a result. Sarah had scarcely spoken a word to any of her companions. Those whom she had not met that day at the Kevil’s Arms remained strangers to be observed from a distance.

There was the light haired man who stood a bit shorter than the rest of the men. What he lacked in height he made up for in noise. Whether he was singing, laughing at his own jokes, or attempting to impress another member of the Consano, the rogue never shut-up. One or two of the soldiers had attempted to assist him, but the young man never seemed to appreciate that he may be in any actual danger. Sarah wondered if he would continue to smile when their comrades began to die off.

The hooded man that had given Sarah a curious chill the day he arrived turned out to be a mage. Or at least, that’s what some of the soldiers had whispered amongst each other when camp was made. The young healer regarded him with a suspicious eye whenever he rode in front of her. Though the man was not especially imposing at first glance, there was an air about him that made Sarah uneasy, and his contentment to rarely speak only intensified this feeling. She wondered what this mage was capable of, and whether he would use his abilities nobly when the time came. Since they had been paired in the same squad, she assumed the answer would come sooner rather than later.

While the mage was somewhat eerie, the commissioner of the Consano was downright offensive. Sarah knew him as Orwen, and everything from his gaudy clothes to his demanding tone irritated Sarah. These things would not have phased her had it not been for the stories he told, no, bragged about, involving what seemed like countless innocent slaves. And always, there was a shadow of a smile when he spoke, as though contemplating his own cruelty brought him some deep inner peace.

How Sir Chester could freely accept that vile trader and yet hold her in suspicion was beyond Sarah’s understanding. The young healer thought back to the night when she had arrived at The Kevil’s Arms. The knight, who had seemed cordial enough at first, ultimately left Sarah feeling as though she had been interrogated rather than interviewed. It was the revelation of her Dawnish origin that had seemed to plant doubt in his mind. Sarah was proud of her heritage and in many ways felt that the Kingdom of Dawn was superior to it’s northern neighbor. At the very least, her people had not propagated a bloody war for the sake of a king’s vanity. If anyone should be put on trial for their citizenship, Sarah was certain it was not her.

The morning of their departure had brought sudden calls to attention which had struck Sarah as a bit awkward. No doubt, when they had left The Kevil’s Arms, Sarah had felt a bit like a child playing “soldier” as they filed out of the city. At this point however, the marching had lost all manner of novelty and now the young healer felt much like a head of cattle, lumbering along in the herd. She imagined that she also smelled much like a cow, as there had been little opportunity for washing in the past three days. It was for this reason that when the Consano finally halted it’s march along the muddy road on the third evening, that Sarah resolved to ensure a dip in the nearby river. It would be freezing, but no chill could be worse than sleeping another night covered in grime.

It amazed Sarah how quickly the Consano could collectively set-up and break camp every day. In less than an hour the tents were pitched, horses were grazed, and fires were burning. If there were to be any amusement before dark, it must come in the short bouts between eating and sleeping. After Sarah raised her tent, she stuffed inside her bedroll all the personal letters which she had received from her Cavil’s father. Then she heaved her heavy pack over one shoulder and sought out Sir Chester. Though he did not trust her, the healer considered him among the least likely to rummage through her supplies and take something for himself.

Afterward, Sarah spotted the exotic assassin and also the female mercenary near a fire. The dark-skinned woman was examining a knife under the last bit of daylight that was quickly slipping away. Over the past few days the healer had observed the assassin pulling knives from what seemed like thin air, much like a magician who pulled coins from his sleeves to amuse children. Always she did so as though she were unaware of what her fingers were doing, and before Sarah could make out any details of the blade, it would disappear back into the killer’s robes. It appeared to be a mindless habit, and the ease at which the foreign woman performed it made Sarah wonder at what other abilities she possessed with such blades.

Sarah had not yet met the mercenary, who was now squatted down to the ground and rummaging through a pack. Unlike many of the others who traveled in their company, she had heard no rumors about this traveler, unless of course you counted the perverted remarks some men made to one another whenever she rode in front of them. Sarah studied her agreeable manner and decided to make the first move.

“We have not met,” She began in a soft tone, stopping in front of the pack that the sell sword was searching “As two of the few ladies in this company, I believe we should remedy this.”

Sarah’s words were friendlier than she felt. Had she not deemed it necessary to avoid bathing alone, she likely would have made no move to introduce herself. She was tired, and betraying sleep for the monotony of small talk felt wrong.

The past few nights had been rather energetic on Gwenyfar`s end, everyone was split up into different squads, but by the end of the first night marching east to Minorhold, most everyone fell into a slipshod order. She wasn`t used to the military life,but it did seem oddly familiar, and at times rather cozy for the close comfort of the security provided. Alas, she did not let her senses lure her into any false notions as she much as she would have liked to. The past three days alone had been rather hectic for some new recruits and had begun to create a sense of unease in her mind at least, it bothered her not, but only to the point to wonder how reckless this mission would come to be, or even dangerous. Gweynfar had surveilled the group since they left, and noted several people of key interest.

She took a particular note of the dark skinned woman, who seemed of an exotic origin she could not place; also of several men. Sir Chester seemed to be an alright fellow, but there were two other she had not met, one of them was a hooded man, one that every time she looked in his direction, gave her chills, like that of an entity touching her very soul, one that filled her with restlessness and anxiety. The other was a bastard of a man, for she had heard his name before on her travels, Orwen. And he, was certainly a bothersome fellow. She knew him to be one of the richest slavers, and one to be feared for his ruthless attitude. It became obvious to her the disturbed mind he held after the few remarks he had made about his few prized women slaves.

On the third night, after a hard days ride, the group again made for camp, and this time not so far from a river, just a mile or so up the road. It had rained earlier in the day and now that dusk had settled, the clouds seemed more ominous than when the group had departed earlier. She had her mind on other things as she rummaged through her buckled knapsack, looking for a whetstone to give her blade a good rub, when a young blonde woman approached her. Her words startled Gwenyfar, causing her to jolt. She looked up at the woman and listened to her as she spoke, all the while studying her face. She had strong features, one that reminded her of statued woman. The thing that drew her attention the most to this woman was the colour of her eyes, the colour of amber stone, like a low smouldering flame.

Finally she let a smile grace her captivated face,rising upto her feet and extending her hand, she replied in a polite manner, "Hello, no I don`t think we have. I`m Gwenyfar if you haven`t heard already. I would have introduced myself earlier, yet time did not allow me to. What is your name?"

Sarah was surprised at Gwenyfar’s pleasant manners. When she shook the mercenary’s hands, she wondered if all killers had such calloused skin. Though she was not delicate, Gwen had a lovely face and toned figure. Sarah imagined that her martial skills were at least occasionally used in self-defense when she received unwanted attention.

“My name is Sarah,” She began while looking Gwen in the eye, “I am our company’s healer. The only one I’m afraid.”

Gwen took the woman`s hand into her own as she grasped it firmly, and noted the lightness of her hands, meaning they were delicate and small, "Sarah, it is my pleasure. I`m glad then that you have joined our company, if any of us were to fall, at least we would have you. Tell me then, would you care to join me if we took a gander down to the river to wash up? I suppose we could invite the other lady as well, though I do believe I haven`t caught her name..."

Here Gwen looked about the encampment looking for the olive-skinned woman, "I know a good wash would make me sleep better tonight too." She finally spotted her, mindlessly flicking a knife in and out of her hand, disappearing into her sleeve only to bring it out again. In hopes of gaining her attention, Gwenyfar looked right at her, and waved her hand, in an attempt to draw her over to them.

Quietly she added, "I`m certain I smell like my horses ass, as much as I love him, I particularly don`t favour the smell." With that, she allowed herself a grin that disappeared within moments.

Sarah chuckled courteously at the other woman’s joke, “Unfortunately, I can say no better of myself. A bath would suit me well if we can manage to return before the sun leaves us.” The young healer glanced toward the sky and imagined they had just over an hour left of shine. Daylight was a precious commodity anywhere, but here in the North, it was in constant short supply. She was releived that others seemed just as eager take a bit of risk in exchange for the sanity that clean skin brought.

Nearby, Sarah also sought to gain the assassin's attention,“Yes, I had the pleasure of meeting her on recruitment day.” Sarah was silent a moment as she remembered the dark woman’s flirtatious manner with the nervous young priest. She also remembered how she had brushed off the woman's attempt at buying her dinner. Had she not been so exhautsed at the time, Sarah might have felt embarrassed at her own obvious behavior. “I daresay, she is rather exotic isn’t she?” Sarah quietly asked Gwen, attempting to gather someone else’s impression.

"I`ve yet to speak with her more, but yes... she is rather exotic. Did you happen to catch where she comes from?" The oppurtunity was lost as the foreign woman looked up and headed over.

Karen was bored... For a while now actually. Those long continues days of nothing but traveling were getting to her. Normally she was fine with such monotonous passing of the days, but considering she didn't even have much chance to chat with people since they departed was too much. From boredom, she began pulling in and out her knives from their hiding places. For a while she didn't even realize that she was doing it. Once she realized it though, she began doing it for fun and practice.

Now she was just checking out her knives before the sun vanished over the horizon. She needed to make sure the blades were in perfect condition otherwise they may not fly properly or even break on impact and not take down her target. Considering the enemies they were going to be facing, unless she pierced the skull those creatures weren't going to fall down. Thus she had to keep her weapons in perfect condition and extremely sharp.

As she was inspecting the blade of one of the last knives, she noticed one of the women in the expedition waving at her. It was that woman who she met while they were preparing the horses. She didn't get much chance to talk with her back then. It seemed that Sarah and that woman... what was her name... ahh yeah... Gwenyfar. It was what she heard from some of the other members of the Consano in the brief moments when they talked. Smiling cause of the situation that was present, Karen quickly rose from her place and walked over to the other two women.
"Greetings, my name is Karen. Nice to meet you again, we met briefly when were were setting off, but not since." She said when she approached and reached a hand for a handshake with Gwenyfar. "So what can I do for you two?" The olive-skinned woman asked.

Gwen studied the woman as she moved over towards them, introducing herself as Karen. When she queried what she could do for them, Gwenyfar looked to Sarah and replied, shaking Karen`s as she did so, "Gwenyfar. It`s a pleasure. Sarah and I were going to head down to the river for a quick dip to wash up. Do you want to come with us? We`ll lose light the longer we wait." She offered the woman the same complacement smile that she gave Sarah.

"There is no way I will refuse an invitation such as this one, now is there?" The assassin said with a happy voice and smiled. She herself was beginning to feel the stench that was starting to come out from here. One rule she had was to keep good hygiene and she had already ignored it longer than she was willing to because there was no suitable chance till now.

"Let's go then, just a moment to get a thing from my bag..." Karen replied and with a quick dash she went to her luggage where she took a small wrapped object. It was her soap...

"Alright, I'm ready to go now." She said once she quickly dashed back to Sarah and Gwen.

Sarah eyed the soap longingly. It would have been a luxury in the river, but on the operating table, it was a necessity. For this reason Sarah had left her own soap behind, buried in her pack with the rest of her tools. The cleansing of sand would have to suffice.

“Let us hurry, we haven’t much time.” Sarah prodded the other two. Without waiting, she pushed ahead, out of the encampment. For legs so short, the young healer took long and swift strides so as the other women must nearly jog to keep up. As the icy wind blew, Sarah tucked her thin hands deep into the pockets of her brown wool dress.

The river was ahead of them, and one could hear it babbling beyond the line of trees which they passed under. The smell of pine wafted richly as they stepped over a damp carpet of needles. The water itself was narrow and rocky. Sarah doubted it was deep enough to pass over her head.
"Best not to take chances." She thought. The blond woman walked several paces up stream to what was sure to be a shallow area.

With no time for shyness, she began to strip off her many layers. First her cloak, her long knife, then the wool dress, finally the white cotton shift. Though she had not been particularly warm before hand, the dusk air brought goose bumps over Sarah’s pale skin. Dark blue bruising along her inner thighs made her seem even more fragile. “And even more useless,” she thought bitterly. Sarah finished her disrobement by discreetly unstrapping her thigh halter which carried the small knife she saved for compromising situations. This she tucked underneath her leather undergarments.

After tucking her belongings in front of a boulder, where she could keep an eye on them, Sarah all but ran to the water, eager to be clothed again. She knew what to expect. To call the water frigid would not do it justice. Luckily, the young woman had long since forgotten the comfort of bath houses. It seemed to her, she might never know such opulence again. Before stepping in, she made certain her companions were still in sight.

Karen raised an eyebrow as they approached the river.
"This is gona be quite chilly, it's going to be a bad idea to directly head off to the camp after getting out of the water." The exotic woman said as she quickly broke some branches from nearby trees. She saw Sarah already entering the river so the assassin hastened with her actions. She quickly piled up the wooden sticks and began to form a small campfire.
"It's going to be a good idea to have a fire like this to at least dry our hairs before returning to the camp no?" She asked the other women.

After setting up the fire she felt the warmth on her skin, but bath came first. The olive-skinned woman quickly began to strip too, removing the number of knives she kept on her self in the process and piled them on the ground next to her cloak. Afterwards she took her soap and a piece of what appeared to be kind of a sponge and headed to the river not to far from Sarah.

After rubbing the soap onto the sponge for a while, she turned towards the other two people with her.
"Any of you want to use the soap?" She asked with a smile, there was no need to keep it for herself. She already soaped the sponge so she didn't need it at the moment.

Gwenyfar had followed Sarah, who happened to be a spritely creature as her pace was long, causing her to jog just to keep up. She kept a good pace with Sarah as they passed through a pine thicket that lead the trio of woman to the river`s edge. It seemed rather rocky until the women followed Sarah to a shallower side of the ride. Her eyes did not mean to linger, but she did sneak peeks at the other women as they undressed, nervous that they were watching her. She did note that Karen carried an almost unfathomable amount of knives on her person. And that Sarah had strange bruising on the innermost part of her thighs. The cold air didn`t help at all, so when Karen had built the fire,she knew it would be of a great service to them after.

"Yes, I think that`ll be just fine, thank you Karen. We could suffer from the cold and fall sick if our hair was still damp." She mumbled the last part more to herself again; an unbeknownst habit to her.

She paid heed only to her body after, and undressed quickly. The hardest part was unlacing her leather jerkin, along with her trousers, shin guards and bracers. She sighed with a breath of relief and stepped into the water, goosebumps sprouted up as she eased into the water causing her to shiver. Gwenyfar had removed everything except for her lower undergarments, she placed one hand across her buxom chest and began to splash water upon herself. She watched as the water erased the layers of dirt that had become caked on in the short few days they had travelled.

When Karen offered her soap, Gwenyfar bit her lip and looked to Sarah and then nodded at Karen, "Aye, if you don`t mind, I would love a bit of soap. It`s a luxury we`ll all miss in the days to come, I`m certain. Do you make it yourself?"

If there was anything Gwenyfar was particularly good at it was making small talk. She learned the trait from the merchants she bargained with in her earlier years with her father. She reached out to take the soap from her with an open palm, suggesting that she meant for no trickery; it had been many years at that since she had been in company of more than one woman at a time, and especially when bathing.

Sarah had thanked Karen for her generous offer of soap but immediately declined. She was not about to start indebting herself to these or any other member of the Consano. In her experience, it was always better to be owed something, than it was to owe something back.

Bending down, Sarah scooped up a handful of river sand and began exfoliating her extremities with the black dust. She moved quickly, shivering like mad as she scrubbed. When the grime was sufficiently removed, the young woman pulled out the leather tie which held her long hair in place. Golden waves spilled out of the braid and Sarah combed through them ferociously with her fingers.

Nearby, Gwen and Karen seemed to be enjoying some small talk. Each woman had a pleasing figure. The assassin’s body was particularly feminine what with soft, ample curves which complimented her athletic limbs. She had started a fire nearby and Sarah wished she had placed her clothes nearby the heat. A few short minutes passed and it was time for the worst and finale part, washing her hair.

The young healer took a few breaths, plucking up the nerve to dip herself backwards below the icy stream. When she emerged, it would be an all out dash to get dry and warm.

One..two...three...

Instead of plunging to the ground, scrubbing with some stones, and hoisting herself back up again, Sarah’s left leg had slipped down into a divet under the water. Losing her balance, the healer’s entire body submerged into a sneakily deep portion of the river.

Though the water was cold enough to stop a man’ heart, it was sheer panic that gripped Sarah’s as she struggled to gain footing. Too short to reach the bottom, the woman sputtered on water, gasping for air which did not come.

Karen was just happy to give Gwen the soap. It was only natural to help each other, especially when it came to things such as keeping yourself clean. It is how she was raised after all, public baths were a common thing down to the south where things such as water supplies were limited thus baths were usually near water sources thus they were made public.

"Ahh yes I made it myself. I made it specially with some herbs and milk, that way it's very good for one's skin. It's a family recipe, I found that the soaps here in the north thend to be too rough and bad for the skin." The assassin said with a amused smile. Such small talk so typical for normal women wasn't often thing for her. It was kind of refreshing to do so. As she handed Gwen the bar of soap, she didn't miss the chance to get a good look at the woman's figure. She was beautiful too.

"You will sense it's effects once you try it."

Gwenyfar nodded agreeably with Karen, "Yes, that is the most unfortunate thing here, most folk here just throw things together in a vat and call it soap. I find goat's milk to be very beneficial to the skin, especially mixed with lavender, mint and rosemary." Here, she brought the soap to her nose and gave it a sniff,and found the aroma to be very appeasing. As she soaped herself up, Gwenyfar watched Sarah's gold locks spill asunder over her backside. She admired blonde hair for its radiance, yet she also admired Karen's black hair for its sheen and darkness. It reminded her of a raven's feather, even with a bluish tint to it. But that may as well have been cast from the firelight.

Karen sighed at Sarah's refusal to her gesture. The assassin made a puzzled expression of what to do. The healer appeared to be kind of distant and the olive-skinned woman wondered if that was going to be fine for the future. Well in the end of the day it wasn't her right to meddle with how the woman felt... at least for now that is. If it was going to prove to be a problem for the future, the assassin was going to have to convice Sarah to be friendlier somehow, but she really had no idea how to do that.

As she was in her thoughts, she used the time to wash herself properly from all the dirt with the sponge and as she finally completely submerge in the water for a moment to wash her hair too, she noticed what was going with Sarah.

Karen was by no way unable to swim. In fact she was great swimmer as forced to learn and hone that skill. Thus she quickly with quick move she threw the sponge near the campfire and quickly moved in Sarah's direction, she seemed to have stepped on hidden deep part of the river. It happened all the time and it was often deadly. As she reached the healer a few moments later, she right away reached with her right hand and grabbed Sarah from behind and under the armpits, using her left hand to pull herself and the healer back into the surface.

Gwenyfar unpinned her braid that she had wound about her head three days ago and let it fall across her shoulders, mahogany tresses shining red like blood in the firelight. She dipped beneath the surface and with one hand, erased the remaining traces of dirt and grime that had accumulated. When she surfaced, bar of soap still in one hand, Gwenyfar immediately took notice of Sarah slipping under and with Karen racing over to her.

"Seriously..." Karen said as she was pulling the weaker girl to the shore. Considering they were going to be fighting zombies one of them almost died by drowning tonight...

Sarah spent a moment sputtering on the water which had nearly reached her lungs. She rolled onto her stomach pulling herself to her knees as she fought to get the last few drops out. Karen was standing over the young healer, concern, and a hint of condescension covered her dark features. Sarah was silent for a moment as she caught her breath. On the bright side, between the adrenaline coursing through her blood and the heat rising on her cheeks, she was no longer cold.

"Thank..." Sarah coughed, "Thank you." She managed.

If Sarah had felt useless before, she felt like an absolute burden now. "I'm sorry."

With a sense of urgency, Gwenyfar hauled herself to the waters edge, as she saw Karen hoist Sarah out of the water and onto the shoreline.

She clutched the soap in one hand, other hand across her chest and stood shaking in the wind as she looked down at Sarah, "Are you okay?" Worry crossed her face as surveyed their companion. She turned to Karen and offered her soap back to her.

{Credits @Denalz@rivaan@MacabreFox

Sir Chester sat awkwardly on the rough floor of his tent as he tried to find a suitable surface to write his daily report on. The single candle light alone was barely enough for him to see what he was doing, but at least it gave his modest tent a warm comfortable feeling. He realised he had become too used to the great war tents over the years; elegant ones filled tables, chairs, beds and luscious silks. This small company lacked the time and luggage space to accommodate such luxuries however, so Chester was forced to use a more standard tent. ”At least it’s something” he grumbled to himself in a futile attempt to make light of the situation. Eventually his searching led his gaze to the items which Sarah, the Dawnish healer, had left in his tent a short while ago. He was tempted to rummage through her belongings to acquire more information on the otherwise reserved lady, but decided against it. It was unlikely that she would leave anything of note alone in his tent, not unless she purposely wanted him to read something. Instead his thoughts begun to ponder her whereabouts, and who she was with. Sarah had said that she was going for a swim and would ask some of the other women, but in reality she could be doing anything.

After letting a variety of situations playing out in his head, Chester eventually resorted to going out to find her. He was unlikely to keep any element of stealth in his current armour however, so he quickly stripped down and changed into some cloth garb and leather boots which he kept in his pack. Finally he wrapped his large snowy cloak around himself – it was a surprisingly light piece of clothing made of ice wolf pelt, and made good camouflage once snow began to fall. ”Evening Sir.” greeted one of Walter’s men as Chester exited his tent.

”Good evening.” he replied before giving the man a thoughtful look, ”Do me a favour and watch my tent. Don’t let anyone enter, and avoid telling anyone that I’m popping away.”

The man was clearly anxious about the order, or at least quite curious, but he simply nodded in response and took up a seat in a nearby log. Chester did not know the man well, but he knew he had once been under his command and had been loyal to the kingdom for many years (like all of Walter’s men), and so he could be trusted. Without speaking or seeing anyone else, Chester then snuck out past the night watch and began circling the camp until he found footsteps trailing off to the south. Deducing them to be Sarah and companies (judging by the lack of any other footsteps and their smaller size), he began to follow them. Although he was adept at stealth, he still made a mental note to punish the night’s watch for failing to spot him. He wandered along cautiously, sticking to the trees and shrubs rather than exposing himself, and kept his ears and eyes sharp for signs of life. The odd owl and snow cricket making his hair stick up on end every now and then. Eventually he found himself staring at a small body of water, with three of the agents bathing together. He crept closer until he could make out some of their words, until finally stopping against a tree where he laid with his cloak covering and masking his body.

Collab with:@Fat Boy Kyle,@MacabreFox,@Denalz and me
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“No need to thank me, it’s only natural to help an ally in need.” The assassin replied with a smile.

Sarah sputtered a bit as she tried to chuckle, "Next time, I think I'll help myself to your soap instead."

"I suppose that's it for our bath tonight. With this lack of light, it’s too dangerous for us to enter the river again." Karen said, looking at the still coughing Sarah. The sun had already sank behind the great trees and the river and it’s shore were only lit by the small campfire the assassin set in advance. She threw in a few additional small branches into it. It wouldn't be long before their dripping hair began to freeze.

The olive skinned woman reached out and took the soap back from Gwen then took her sponge and quickly put them back into the small leather bag she took them out from. After Karen took her soap back, Gwenyfar watched over Sarah in a motherly fashion, not wanting to touch her and invade her privacy, but she couldn't help but to have a tender and worrisome look about her. The night’s chill had already sank into her body, so she quickly brought the clothes of Sarah closer to the fire to warm them and put her fur cape on Sarah. "Here, use this to warm and cover yourself from the wind while you clothes warm up.”

The healer turned toward her and smiled as she took the cape, but she could not meet Karen's eyes. It smelled faintly of ash and pine. As she caught her breath near the glow of the fire, Sarah kept her gaze on the flames. This is what humility felt like. Perhaps the Lord of Light was rebuking her for the sense of moral superiority she felt over the assassin. Perhaps this was an ill omen. Had she not made the right choice in coming here?

The assassin began to quickly dress up. First from the undergarments then the shirt and etc… Then sat next to the fire and began to dry her hair.” You too, you’d better remove that wet piece of cloth you are wearing.” The assassin said and pointed at Gwen’s undergarment’s which she didn’t remove before entering the water. The assassin smiled friendly. Gwenyfar’s face grew red as she quickly turned and headed for her clothes. Disappearing into the shadows of the dusk turning to night, Gwen quickly stripped off her bottom article of clothing and redressed hurriedly. She did not bother to replace her leather jerkin or corset, but only went about in her blouse, boots and trousers. Sliding on her sword sheath and belt, Gwenyfar returned to the firelight of the small camp Karen had made, all of her belongings in tow. Nearby, something seemed to have caught Karen’s attention.

The assassin felt as if something was observing them and she quickly took a small pebble and threw it full strength at the direction of which she felt a presence. She threw it about a wolf’s hight into the bushes, but the only sound the pebble made was that of hitting the tree behind them.” Was I imagining things? I thought I felt something there…” She muttered… she didn’t exactly feel any bloodthirst or danger from it… It was more like she felt something moving slowly there, but the rock she threw hit nothing.

“Sarah, do you feel better now?” Karen asked. The petite woman nodded in response and began to put on her white shift and moccasins. Karen then turned to Gwen.” Keep your weapon close, I have the feeling something is out there.” nodding towards the dark forests.

Sighing in annoyance, Gwenyfar quietly muttered to herself, "I wouldn't be surprised if it was a man from our company that happened to see us sneak away, and followed us out here to have a little peak." Sarah grimaced in disgust at the suggestion. In general, Gwenyfar felt that most men were simple pigs, unable to control the shit they spewed from their so called mouth. That didn't stop her hand from resting readily upon her pommel, then again, it could be some feral animal stalking them as well.


Chester layed dead still, his body trained to resist the urge the shiver in the cold. His breath was calm, long drawn and silent, and was aimed down so that the condensation could not be seen. He watched closesly as the women bathed and dressed, and although his only intention was to determine whether or not they were plotting, he could not help but feel his temperature rise in certain places as the moonlight danced of the assassin's skin.

"Uh oh." he thought internally when Karen suddenly looked in his direction. There was little he could do without revealing his presence, and he hoped that she would simply turn away again. When she picked up a stone instead he felt his pulse begin to pick up, but still he remained still and quiet as stone. He did not see the rock as it flew through the dark, but heard it as it wizzed overhead and struck the tree beside him. "She's got better senses than the camp watch at least." he mused.

"If it's a man from the group following us, then he is lucky because I didn't hit him with that throw." Was Karen's reply to Gwen's statement." Frankly I'm not in the mood to hunt him down if he is still hiding in the bushes over there!" Karen said quite out loud." There is no really need for it, he already most likely saw everything there is to see. Beating the hell out of him won't change that fact..." The olive skinned woman said to the others with a smile.

Sarah shivered at the thought of random men watching them from afar. She took comfort in the fact that the other two women likely provided a more appealing spectacle.

"I wonder, should we mention this to Lady Buxton? I'm pretty sure she can get to the bottom of who was that followed us, pretty fast." The assassin said with a grin." Shall we find the culprit and use this as a excuse to boss him around as a payment for all the enjoyment he most likely got from watching us bath?"

Gwenyfar chuckled loudly, "And what would you expect her to do, lock the culprit up in the stocks? No, I don't think she could do much about it." She wrapped her arms tightly about her chest, trying to retain as much warmth as possible.

The healer was not keen on this suggestion. It was dark and already wolves could be heard howling in the distance. She cleared her throat which was hoarse from couging, "I assured Sir Chester that we would return before the sun set. We are late... thanks to me." She added the last part quickly, willing to take responsibility for the delay. This whole trip had been her arrangement afterall.

Shivering as she wrung her hair out, removing any excess water left in her mahogany tresses, Gwenyfar responded to Sarah, noting the way she uttered her words.
"I wouldn't be so heavy on yourself, Sarah, as long as we're not eaten alive, I'm sure they wouldn't mind us maintaining our hygeine."

"You need not worry about Sir Chester, if he decides to bring our bath as a problem, I will deal with him." The Assassin said with a giggle." Considering he allowed someone to sneak outside the camp aside us who have permission, he doesn't have any right to be upset if we are a little bit late."

Gwenyfar turned to Karen and arched an eyebrow as she asked her, "Are we to just let the fire die out, or shall we at least stay and see that it burns out? Of course, we can just throw water on it, but we do not have a bucket or other means to carry the water. Her muscles were too tense for her to relax for the moment, as the water had been painfully cold.

The olive-skinned woman smiled at Gewn's question.She looked at Sarah, no matter how they dealed with the fire, they needed to wait for the blond woman to recover a bit. Drowning in cold water wasn't a small thing. Karen wanted her to warm up and to feel ready to leave before doing anything." We are at the riverbed. There is more than enough sand and pebbles which we will use to extinguish the fire."

"This may be our last real bath in a good while, it wasn't as enjoyable it could have been, but it will have to do no?" Karen said with joking voice, trying to lift the mood a little. She too felt the chill that was sinking in her body more and more as the time passed and the campfire slowly was dying out. She gave her cape to Sarah, so it was natural to feel a little bit cold, but she didn't regret it, the healer needed it right now.

Realizing that the other women were waiting on her, Sarah quickly resigned herself to the icy chill which hung around her. She climbed to her feet and with a smile, handed the thick cloak back to the assassin, "Thank you". Donning her own cloak she began kicking sand over the fire pit, "Come now, Sir Chester's orders aside, this cold is going to set into our bones before long. I don't know about the two of you, but I cannot sleep when that happens."

"Alright then, lead the way." The assassin replied with a smile as she was putting the last of her knives in their hiding places. Once she was ready with that a few moments later, she moved after the other women.

Sir Chester waited until none of the ladies were looking in his direction before slowly shuffling back into the thick woodlands, careful not to make any sudden movements that could catch their eyes. He was content at this point that they were indeed taking an innocent bath and did not feel the need to linger any longer (especially given the risk). When he had withdrawn to a point where he could definately not see them he got to his feet and lightly began dashing back to camp in the shadows of the tall and ancient trees.

A bitter evening breeze seeped around the agents of the Consano as they trotted along the cobbled highway to Minorhold. Each night had seemed to grow colder and soon the frost would turn to sheets of snow. It was the fourth night of travelling and they were mere hours away from their destination. They would have gotten there by then had they taken the most direct route, but Buxton and Chester decided it better to loop round from the south, and avoid as much danger as possible. After all, it’d be a waste to lose all their agents before they even reached their first stop. Fortunately the journey thus far had been eerily quiet and uneventful. No travellers, refugees or infected had been seen, despite how close they still were to supposedly plagued territory. However even with the lack of confrontation, Lady Buxton and Sir Chester were still on guard, their eyes snapping to any source of sound as they travelled along. The section of road that they were on was dangerous even before the plague, with thick woodland on both sides where ambushers could hide. The massive tree branches hung over the road and blocked out the stars, making it feel more like a tunnel. "Did you hear that?” whispered Chester as he raised his hand and brought his horse, and thus those behind him, to a halt.

Buxton shut her eyes and tried to focus her other senses. She could smell smoke on the air, and could hear the faintest sound of screaming. "We should be coming up to a guard tower, they may be under attack” she pulled her polearm from her back and looked back towards the others. "Teams 1 and 2 will advance on foot and evaluate the situation! Team 3 will stay back and guard the horses and packs!”

This would be the first time that the Consano were tested, and it would show who amongst them were and were not strong enough for the mission. Even the most seasoned soldiers there showed signs of apprehension, with Chester himself feeling beads of sweet forming on the ridge of his hairline as his adrenaline quickly began to rise. There was no telling what they would find down the road – it could be a few desperate bandits, or they could be running head first into the bulk of the horde.

"Get in two columns, Team 1 of the left, Team 2 on the right! Stay close and watch each other’s sides and backs! Once we’re moving try to keep quiet and make sure you keep up the pace! If you spot any hostiles then point them out!” Sir Chester gave his orders clearly and crisply, knowing full well that new recruits needed as much guidance as possible. He dismantled his horse with a big thud on the earth, his heavy boots giving his legs an added shock sensation. Before moving off beside Buxton he looked back at the agents and hoped that he would not have to bury them this day.

The columns footsteps beat like drums as they lightly jogged along, the dozens of boots both leather and metal thumping down in near perfect synchronisation. The tension was so great that the short jog, which could not have taken more than a couple of minutes, felt like hours. When at last the columns turned the bend in the road and came into the opening, they stopped dead in their tracks as they were met with a vision of pure horror.

“By the gods…” gasped Gewain.

There were more infected than could be counted in the dim moon light, rushing out of the trees and spreading out like a wave of blood and death. The smell of putrid flesh was overwhelming. Moans and screams carried over the area, a mixture of pain and rage, a pure expression of the magic that bound them. They ran frantically at the guard post, a moderate wooden tower and some tents surrounded by a square wooden palisade. Its gates were closed and holding for the moment, but would not last against the barrage of the undead. Candles could be seen flickering within the fort and along the wall, illuminating the grotesque and mangled faces of the monsters that threw themselves close enough.

“There may be survivors!” Buxton exclaimed, as she turned to the others. It was clear on her face that she was torn between actions.

“There are too many!” Chester said sternly.

“Few compared to what we’ll have to face in the coming days. They are not intelligent nor armed. Each of us is worth more than a dozen of them, so I fancy our odds. Besides, if there’s survivors then they may have some of the answers we seek.” Those around Buxton did not seem convinced. “Shikoba and Mathis, return to the others and tell them to retreat to the road south of here; it interjects this one a few miles on. We can’t afford to lose the horses!” she commanded, causing the two to quickly head back off in the direction they had come.

“So are we cleaving our way through?” Sir Chester asked with a hint of condescension.

“No. Both teams head for the rear of the fort and help each other over. Once inside make sure it’s clear of hostiles. We’ll try hold the fort from the inside, and if not retreat into the forest with any survivors. Everyone ready?!” there was little more than a few nervous mutters in response, but it was enough. ”Then with me!” Buxton roared as she turned and thrust herself towards the small hoard. The Consano charged forwards weapons in hands, some beginning to yell in desperate fear or bloodlust. Nearby infected quickly took notice and began to intercept them, sprinting with no apparent restraints or fatigue. Buxton adjusted her trajectory to meet the closest head on, lifting her Guandao with both hands. As Buxton and the infected met she thrust the blade forward and upward in a simple but effective and strong motion, stabbing through the mans face and killing him instantly. Without a chance to think she swung the blade up to her right, chopping into another’s neck. In the corner of her eyes she could see other agents now fighting too, but all continued to edge towards the wall.

Gewain, Orwen and Drusus were the only three not to get drawn into the fighting line, instead continuing on as ordered to the wall. Gewain and Drusus did not seem to notice that others had been held back, whereas Orwen simply did not care. As they reached the palisade Orwen tried futily to jump it, but simply bounced straight off it with a large thud. He frantically climbed to his feet before turning to the others, "You! Quickly! Help me over!”

Gewain responding without thinking, placing his hands together so that Orwen could climb up. Drusus meanwhile seemed to be taking in his surroundings and providing the two with cover. Orwen clumsily managed to pull himself atop the wooden wall, his hands and forearms taking splinters as he did so. Once up he sat and looked around, seeing only silhouettes on the other side of the fort. He could not tell whether they friend or foe, and suddenly thought it better that he was not the first to find out. "Give me your hands, I’ll help you over from up here!” he ordered, looking at the two below him. He noticed others now nearing the three, along with more infected. "Hurry!

The scene before their eyes was one like from a tale about the world’s end. The infected people were spreading like a wave of death and clashing into the wooden fortification. Frankly truth was that real fortified position was nearly impossible to take down by simply throwing masses at it. There was a reason why people required siege equipment for taking down fortified gates. Problem was that she doubted this guardian post was made sturdy enough. Depending on the actual size of this swarm of enemies, if a part of the walls were made even slightly less sturdy than the rest, eventually it was going to give in to the pushes of the rotting army. Still on other side, if there was still a garrison inside and they reinforced them, holding a fortified position was going to be a lot easier than open field battle!

As lady Buxton led the charge towards the rear of the post, the decaying enemies began noticing them and moved towards them. The two forces clashed, one on their way to the walls, the other trying to mindlessly stop them and turn them into a meal. When the two sides finally touched, the battle officially broke out. The assassin quickly took out her scimitar and with an elegant motion stabbed the nearest enemy in the eye, she was targeting the brains of the creatures. After the first stab, she quickly drew the blade from the skull of the infected and pushed into the next one. As she repeated the action, more and more of the infected seemed to begin to react to their presence, so she had to quickly change tactics and pulled a dagger to go along with the scimitar. Using her quick movement she swept into the edge of the horde that was moving towards them. Her target was to increase the time the others had to begin climbing the walls.

These were troublesome enemies because ordinary fatal wounds were of not much effect against them. In ordinary conditions there were many wounds that could kill a man if not outright, then a little bit later. Against these guys, she heard that only real way to make sure they stay down was to destroy their brains. This actually made her wonder if they cut of the heads, would the heads then still be alive if there is no heart to pump their infected blood? Karen didn’t have much time for her thoughts as the number of infected around her increased more and more, forcing her to speed up even more. Many reached with their rotting hands to try to catch and pin her down, but using the scimitar she would often cut those arms or target the ligaments to make them limp, whole dealing finishing blows to the eyes or from under the jaw.

As they began to near the wooden walls, Karen quickly span around throwing her dagger with great force at the wood. The dagger pierced into it at just the right height to serve as a good stepping stone for those who were going to climb up. It was a tactic from her homeland, though admittedly there they used crossbows for this. Following that she pierced the eye of another infected and span around once more, throwing one of her throwing knives about a step away from the dagger and at the same height. Now 2 people were going to be able to have easier time climbing those walls.” Prepare a rope also!” She shouted at the people who were climbing the wall.

Never before had Gwenyfar witnessed so many infected... To her, in the dark of the night, the waves of the infected seemed endless. Yet from the palisade walls, she could see some of the others had made it successfully. Following after them, Gwenyfar unsheathed her short-sword and pulled her shield from her back and dashed forward.
She was used to making people bleed, either from torture, dismemberment, or even just gutting someone and spilling their bowels onto the ground. However, the infected were different... They couldn't die from simple wounds. Gwenyfar had heard of the rumors circulating that the only way to kill these abominations was to destroy their head, either decapitation, or a quick stab through the eye would suffice.
As she ran ahead, nearing the wall, Gwenyfar caught the attention of several infected that suddenly turned her way. They were true freaks of nature, for the infected had uncanny speed that did not hinder their movements. Lifting her shield, Gwenyfar braced for impact as the infected swarmed about her. From her targe, Gwenyfar managed to send a few infected falling, as for the others that stayed with her; their putrid breath stung her nose and eyes as she thrusted her sword into the eye of an infected, and drove it through their skull before depositing the corpse on the ground.
She looked up in time to see two more infected approaching her, mouths agape, eyes empty inside. With one quick swing, Gwenyfar decapitated the two infected before having her shield ripped away from her. The hardened sellsword drew out a dagger she had tucked into the front of her leather trousers and gave a fearsome, primeval yell that rang out across the field. She plunged the blade fearlessly into the eye of the infected that pursued her until she heard a thickening crunch.

Gwenyfar knew deep in her heart that any of these infected could be her father or her brothers. If that was the case, she cared not, for it was better to have them dead instead of suffering in an empty vessel of flesh. Picking up her shield, Gwenyfar went with sword and dagger in hand, with her targe upon her back again, and sprinted for the wall. The cold night air seemed to have sucked all of the warmth out from her very limbs, and causing her chest to heave with sharp pains; still she ran.
Now, only feet away from the walls of the fort, Gwenyfar spotted Karen at the wall, along with the blades she left embedded in the wooden fortress. Grabbing one dagger in her hand, Gwenyfar hoisted herself up away from the reaches of the infected. Hand over hand, she made the difficult climb to the top, and when she reached the top, Gwenyfar fell over onto the platform behind the wall. In the dark of the night, she prayed that no one could see the tears that streamed down her dirty cheeks.

"We need that rope!" Gwenyfar cried out as she pushed herself up and began to scout the area on the platform for any. Thankfully, she found a large coil of rope at the top setting near a workers toolbox. Grabbing it, Gwenyfar chucked it over the side of the wall for the others, the rope unfurled like a piece of cloth in the wind as it tumbled down the walls, keeping one end wrapped tightly about her wrist.

It was a long time since Karen had witness such chaos on a battlefield. Mindless creatures were all around them, trying to eat them and even a single bite was fatal. Luckily casualties were zero… or at least so minimal that the assassin hadn’t noticed anyone all yet, but if they stood outside the walls, it was bound to happen eventually.

Karen smiled as she saw the rope tumbling down the walls. Someone had climbed up and did the needed to make sure the others will be able to survive too! Her joy was short, as the wave of infected became stronger as their numbers increased. They had already realized there were alive people on this side of the fortification and were swarming towards them. The push was getting stronger and stronger. Still with the edge of her vision the assassin could see people climbing up at increased rate, now that there were ways up.

“HAAAAAAAAAAA!” She screamed as she swung her scimitar with full force, decapitating 2 infected, but her body was starting to give up on her. She was ample fighter, but the way this enemy pushed their lines, was forcing her to constantly push the limits of her body capabilities. She was already swinging her blade as fast as she can and as strong as she can. When she finally saw that the number of people down in front of the wall dwindled as more and more climbed up, she slowly moved back, allowing for the others to react and make sure their battle line isn’t broken.

The assassin quickly jumped at the wall, taking hold of the rope and quickly climbing up. Not even taking a moment to breath once up, she quickly turned around and looked outside the walls again.” Do we have long spears here!?” She shouted at the others inside the encampment.” If not find just long poles or something! We need to hinder the infected so those few outside can climb!” She shouted and quickly looked around the small fortification, searching for a weapon she can use like the said spears, or a bow and arrows. If she had to, she was going to use her knives, to create an opening for the people down to climb, but if she did that, she was going to have to go gather them later.

Chester, Buxton and Zacharias were the last of the agents left on the ground, the others having now successfully scaled the wall. This was good, as the three of them were quickly reaching exhaustion under the constant waves of infected. The earth beneath their feet had already turned to into a slippery foul mixture of mud, blood and guts, and now each of them had to take extra care not to slip over.

“Everyone’s up but us. Mind if we get moving ourselves?” Zacharias panted as he slashed at yet another corpse, his rapier slicing through the creature’s face like butter. The cut was only superficial though and Zacharias was forced to follow up the attack by smashing his buckler against the existing wound.

“I think that would be a good idea!” Buxton replied, tapping Chester on the shoulder in case he didn’t realise they were moving back. The trio fell back towards the section of wall where the others had climbed up, making a small defensive circle. At this range those above the wall were really able to relieve the pressure, with some using ranged attacks and some having even found spears.

“After you, my Lady.” Zacharias offered with a slight smile. Even with the chaos he still seemed able to keep an air of cockiness, although it was almost whipped away from his as a large armour clad man tried to grab him by the neck. Fortunately Zacharias was able to shove the tip of his rapier up through the bottom of the man’s jaw and into his skull, before Sir Chester lent a hand by throwing the corpse into a few more of the zombies.

“As soon as I’m up you both follow!” Buxton ordered, ignoring the Dawnish man’s charm. Not bothering to use the rope or knives, she turned and ran up the wall, catching the hand of Gewain. Within seconds she was lifted up to the same platform as the others. She wanted to stop for a moment to rest and catch her breath, but she couldn’t afford such luxury. “Gewain! Drusus! Sarah! Help the last two up! Everyone else give them cover!” she shouted her orders as loudly and clearly as she could, hoping that her agents had a calm enough mind-set to still follow orders.

Meanwhile Chester and Zacharias had found themselves getting closer and closer until they were practically shoulder to shoulder. Heavy streams of sweat flowed down each of their faces, their muscles burned and felt tight under the continued stress of battle, and their throats had become coarse through shouting. They were both veteran soldiers though and their stamina held strong. Chester continued to thrust his sword out from behind his shield in an almost mechanical and robotic motion, with each extension of his blade felling yet another foe.

“Go!” Chester roared, shunting his shoulder backwards into Zacharias to get his attention. The Dawnish man didn’t need to be told twice, quickly climbing the rope until he was up high enough for the others to grab at him and pull him up. That left Chester alone with his back against the wall, now having to frantically fight off the undead from all directions. The infected kept managing to clasp their jaws around his arms and legs, but failed to bite through his armour. He found himself using every moveable limb to shake free and smack the infected away.

“Stand back!” commanded Drusus, stepping forward and taking position atop of where Chester stood. He had yet to demonstrate his magical abilities in front of the others, wanting to keep it discreet. But in the end he knew it was inevitable, and by acting now he might gain the trust of those around him. He took a long drawn and deep breath, trying to remember his teachings. He focussed on the truths of magic (as he knew them) and the energy flowing throughout him and his stave. Then, thrusting forward his free hand, projected a blast of air at the enemies below. Chester himself struggled to stay upright as the blast from behind sent his attackers tumbling over. Drusus followed this up immediately with a blast of fire, scorching those that were already beginning to scramble up towards Chester again. This display did not turn the tide of battle, but it was enough to give Chester a chance of escaping. The knight quickly turned and swung his large shield over the wall before climbing up the robe as quickly as his weight would let him.

“Fuck me, that was a close one.” exhaled Buxton, glad to see her comrade in one piece.

Chester did not respond to her though, and rather shot a glare at Drusus. It was not a thankful look or even one of surprise, but rather one of condemnation. He did not care that the mage had saved his life – he was a mage, and all mages were capable of great evil. “This isn’t over yet. These walls might hold for a while, but the gate will be the first thing to go. We need to secure it.” He said with a cold voice as he rose to his feet, his attention now turned back to their leader.

“Agreed; if it goes we’ll need to keep the infected in the bottleneck. Mathis and Gwenyfar, with me. The rest go with Sir Chester to the gate. Do whatever you can to stop them getting in!”

When the company had first caught sight of the undead, the fear was nearly palpable. What they faced before them was no less than a horde. Sarah was certain that they would be given orders to hide or run.

“There are too many!” She heard Chester say.

Sarah was distracted by the terrible shrieking coming from ahead of them. She wished the leaders would keep their voices down. Instead Lady Buxton was shouting orders at the Consano. A few moments later, the company began moving toward the wall! The healer was so startled by their sudden direction, that she found herself asking those around what was happening. No one seemed to notice however, and instead swords were being drawn and shields brought to arm.

The young woman kept a reluctant pace with the company and soon found herself trailing behind the group. She strongly considered breaking off to find a place to hide. Anger and panic welled up inside of her as Sarah remembered how Chester had agreed that she not be involved in battle. Had he forgotten her limitations?

The healer glanced behind her for a moment and realized that the undead were not just before the Consano, but also around it. Too late to turn back. With that realization, Sarah whispered a prayer to the God of Light, and raced to catch up with her companions. She reached them just as they approached the first wave of infected. Sarah pressed her way into the middle of the pack, making certain that she was never on the outside of the group. Snarls and screams, as well as the slashing of black blood was rampant. The young woman did not care to see where it came from, she focused only on reaching the other side.

As the fighters broke off and spread out, Sarah was confronted by the large wooden wall which Gwen was already scaling. Sarah drew her long knife and backed against the fort while she waited. Before long, a rope was lowered and Sarah climbed with impatient assistance from men above and below her. Reaching the top, Sarah rolled over the railing and tumbled to the ground. As more of the group reached relative safety, Sarah rose to her feet and clutched the banister. Down below, Zacharias, Buxton and Chester continued to battle the putrid creatures.

“They’re still down there!” She shouted at no one in particular, her panic rising. She despised her own uselessness, wishing she had instead devoted her life to archery. After several excruciating moments, all had ascended except Chester. The knight fought furiously, surrounded on three sides.

“Stand Back!” A scorching blast of fire illuminated the air. Sarah jumped in fright. The undead near Chester squealed and writhed in pain as their flesh burned. The healer helped the others hoist their leader up the wall. Though the Knight was finally safe, his face was hard, dangerous, and focused on the hooded man who had traveled with them.

Lady Buxton ordered Sarah and the others to follow Chester to the gate. The idea was to fight off the undead should they press past the barricade. Though she followed, Sarah had her mind set on finding a defensible position for herself. What use these pagan soldiers thought she was going to be in this fight was beyond Sarah.

Taking a deep breath, the olive-skinned woman, quickly followed after sir Chester. She too had shot some glares at the mage, but those were more of the questing ones. She had assumed the mage would try to keep quiet about his abilities for as long as possible and probably try to use them to his own advantage later on, but things seem to have turned out differently. She still didn't have complete trust at him and she guessed that he felt the exact same way too. Hmmm didn't matter right now, there were more pressing matters to attend to, like the horde of infected that was trying to get into this encampment. Ohh how she wanted these to be stone walls not wooden ones, but she knew too that no one will bother to make stone walls for a simple fortification point like this. They were lucky it had even a wooden wall.

“This is going to be troublesome to deal with! We don't have enough longer ranged weapons to protect the walls and the gate!” Karen stated, she had a sword and knives... they needed a lot spears and bows to deal with this many infected. Suddenly she realized something... this horde of monsters was moving by instincts... she had not seen any of them try to even defend or form tactics. All the problem was that it was a swarm of them.” Sir Chester, I have a plan... it may not work, but it might buy us some additional time.” Karen said, looking in the direction of the horde outside.” We use any long range weapon we can find and kill as many enemies in front of the gate we can. We will let their bodies serve as natural barricade. The more we kill in front of the door, the harder it will be for them to gain enough foothold to push! I'm sure a watch post like this must have some oil for signaling fires, we can pour that outside on the gate, make it harder for them to get a grip on it. If we are lucky they will start slipping and those behind will stomp on those in the front!” Karen stated her proposal. It wasn't much and it may not really work perfectly, but it was something.

This was a very dangerous situation, if things were this bad out here, how worse can they be further north? She couldn't even imagine, but a slight fear echoed through her mind. That made her smile for some reason, she felt excited despite the fear. This was something she learned after her admission into the army, the excitement to win a battle, to defeat your foe.” We can also prepare some oil on the ground behind the gate, if they break it, it will slow them down somewhat.” If they had an archery unit this was going to be so much easier, but they didn't.

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Chambala(Location: farmhouse 5 days south of Minorhold.)

It has been a day since Chambala spent the night at this place. At first she only planned to stay for the night and then continue to move, but since there appeared to be no one following her and she liked it here, the animal girl decided to stay a little bit more. It was already nearing sunset again. Quietly she made her way back inside the house, carrying some of the chopped wood she found stored in the barn. Last night she didn't light the fireplace because she was afraid someone might be following her and she didn't want to give away her hiding place, but now it was cold and she wanted to spend the night in a warm place.

Piling the chopped wood in the fireplace, she quickly took the flint and began trying to start a fire. It took a little while since she had never done it before, but only seen the servants in her master's mansion do it. Eventually she finally felt the warmth of the fire reach her face as the small sparks ignited the tinder and finally the proper fire started. She smiled with childish joy at her own accomplishment. Picking up the jug of water she pulled from the well and placing it to boil on the fireplace, Chambala quietly sat next to the source of warmth and pulled a piece of salted meat dried meat from the clay jar she put nearby. Slowly, using one of her hands to hold the jar and the other to hold the dried meat she was eating, Chambala sat near the fireplace, waiting for the water to boil. The chains around her legs, arms and neck were giving off reflections from the fire, but for once in her life, she felt secure and at peace. When the water finally finished boiling, she poured some away in a big wooden cup so she can drink it later when it cools down and the rest she put in a big wooden bathtub she found in the house. Mixing it with some cold water to get a just right temperature she quickly took her first bath since she can remember. When she was a slave they just splashed cold water on her and the others, same was when she was her master's pet. The servants would just bring her outside and throw water on her until they think she is clean enough.

“S...S...” When she finally entered the warm bathtub, she tried to say to herself how good it felt, but she could barely utter a single word now. Her master didn't allow her to speak... always said a beast shouldn't use man's language. She was beaten up every time he heard her say a word until she stopped talking. Sometimes some of the servants would talk to her when the master was away, but it was rare thing. Now she found it hard to speak.” S-s-s-so g..good.” She forced herself to say, Chambala wanted to hope she was more than a mere animal even now.

Suddenly her ears twitched as she heard a sound from the outside. It sounded as human steps. The girl quickly began panicking, realizing she was found after all.” Hey... you really think she is here?” She heard someone talking outside. Her hearing was quite beyond that of a human after all.” Don't know, maybe. It's just the owners of this place, then we will apologize and continue on our way. It's not like I want to find her either.” The second man admitted and a few knocks on the door echoed through the farmhouse. In her panic, the animal girl quickly jumped out of the tub and hid under the nearby table.” See no one responds, then it must be her.” The second voice said and the door opened. The two men entered the house, spotting the full with water tub and the cloth scraps that Chambala was forced to wear by her master. She was trembling under the table, pushing herself as much as she can towards the wall. It didn't take a lot of time for the two men to spot her. She left a trail of water leading to her after all.

“Come on, we won't hurt you. Come here and let's go back to your master.” One of the men said, judging by his way of speaking the leading one here.”L-l-l-leave... me...” The girl said with trembling voice, still as if trying to push herself into the wall.”Sorry girlie, but if we don't return with you, our heads will be rolling.” The man said, reaching to grab her arm to pull her from beneath the table.” N-n-n-no!” She replied, struggling to push away his arm. Suddenly the second man, he was younger placed his hand on the other one's shoulder.” Let's just leave her. We can tell we didn't find her, look at her. Do you really think, it's going to be fine to have her return?” The younger man asked and nodded towards Chambala, who was still trembling under the table. Her scarred body could clearly be seen. After some consideration the older man finally nodded.” Alright then... we will leave. I'm sorry if we scared you girl...” The older man replied and quickly headed towards the exit, followed by the younger man. He threw a long last glance at her before he closed the door.” When we return, I'm telling that you let her escape if we are asked.” The older man stated as they walked. Chambala quickly jumped away from her hiding place and towards the window. She really saw them getting away from here. Quickly she locked the door with the big metal lock. Why didn't she do it before that?! Now he didn't feel secure here anymore, but she had nowhere to go for the night. Slowly she moved back into the bathtub to finish washing up, always throwing scared glances around. When she finished washing up, she dried herself by the fire and went upstairs where she found some clothes earlier. They were too big for her, but it was better than the old rags she had. A big long sleeved shirt, a pair of big trousers, some old leather boots that had some holes in them, but she couldn't be picky right now, she also found some old cloak and a old rugged leather backpack. She had to cut parts of the clothes so the length is at least a little bit fitting for her, but at least she had clothes now. Everything was too big and loose for her so she just had tied it up with some rope so it doesn't fall. There was still the problem with the chains, but she couldn't remove them no matter how much she wanted to. Finally when she was tired enough to sleep, she crept into the bed of the farm, there was a knife in her hand. She left it next to the bed, afraid that people might come for her again.