The cloak he wore covered his form, though the sword poking out of his hip and the shield strapped to his back were obviously protruding from the veiled body of the squire. Rain dripped idly from the birch trees that surrounded the city of Dal'Mahra. They say strange spirits lingered in the forest further inland, but he was just glad to be leaving. It perturbed Roland to be in a city where a third of the city's power was held by the court of Mages. Even with all of the Paladins within the city maintaining order.

He had arrived seeking his Knighthood, and he had heard the Order of the Silver Fist had taken hold of the city after they had liberated it from the demonic invasion not seventy years ago. Ever since, the Paladins had held the military power in the city, though the Court of Mages and the local nobility still held much political sway. He'd been called to service via a council of Knights to scout out the northern mountains. There had been strange stories coming from some of the local villages near the blighted ruins.

He wished they would have provided him a steed. But he had two fortnights to report back, and it would take days simply getting there. Not only that, but he had never met his traveling companion. He was only told he would know them when he saw them, and so the young soldier stomped through the muddied gravel, traversing the outskirts of the walls. He'd been at the stables, speaking to one of the horsemasters to see if he could purchase a good steed, but no such luck.

It was a dreary day to set off on the road. He had been trained from the age of seven winters old to fight and ride, and to rough the elements. But even he felt there were some days best spent inside with a fine drink and a roaring fire. This was his lot in life, however. If he wished to serve faithfully, he needed to perform this last mission. Truthfully he was honored to have been chosen. An opportunity to rise through the ranks like this didn't come often.

Cresting the hill, he found himself in sight of the gate. He took a deep breath and removed his hood to reveal a heroic, handsome face. Tough, but still fresh with youth. His brown eyes drank in the dim light of the overcast day around him, as if they were pits of depth to be explored if one was deemed worthy. A fire danced in them, glimmering with the passion of duty and righting wrongs. Truly a Knight in all but title.
@Luminosity

Iseldis had almost never cared how she looked, so this was a new feeling for her. Growing up her clothes had been ragged, scavenged, ill-fitting, but perfectly fine considering she didn't really care so long as she was warm and comfortable and fit to train. She'd never had anything that could be considered finery, and while her priestess robes were no ballroom gown, they were going to take some getting used to.

The rain tapped softly against her window, but it concerned Iseldis little. She was too busy trying to recognize the woman in the mirror, garbed in well-fitted and tailored robes of bright white trimmed in silver. She felt... nervous, which was unlike her, but today was an unusual day. Her brothers and sisters had already wished her well. The rest was up to her. She fastened her belt around her waist, attached her currently miniaturized bo staff to it, pulled on a small pack of supplies, and made her way out of the temple of Lunaia.

Iseldis pulled her hood up over her thick black hair as she stepped out into the rain. Not the best weather to start her journey with, but there was no sense trying to keep her boots and robes pristine, given all the traveling she'd be doing. She made her way down familiar streets, passing shops and neighborhoods where the people failed to recognize her at first. It was another feeling she'd need to get used to, being watched. Iseldis had always been able to pass unnoticed before, something that was very useful for a young thief, but the priests and priestesses of Lunaia were meant to draw eyes, to be looked to.

It took a half an hour's walk to reach the edge of Dal'Mahra, the gate, and the warrior she was due to meet and travel with. More experienced Lunaian fighters could take on these tasks alone, but it was typical for initiates attempting their first Cleansing to do so with help. It wasn't expected to be anything she couldn't handle, but they were headed for danger, and the last thing the priesthood wanted was promising initiates dying before they could come into their own.

Her partner was easy to identify as the loitering man armed with sword and shield. He didn't look to be too grizzled either. "You must be the lucky sod stuck with me," she said, striding up to him and extending a hand. "Hope you haven't been waiting too long. I'm Iseldis, an initiate of Lunaia. Priestess, if all this goes well."

Roland blinked in mild surprise. They hadn't told him much information on his partner for this trek. He wasn't prepared to be traveling with a priestess of Luna, much less a woman. Not that he believed that women were any worse of than men in combat or dangerous situations. As long as someone pulled their weight and worked with him, he didn't care at all. But the somewhat inexperienced squire had little interactions with women over the years.

He took her hand in his and shook it, giving a smile. "Well met. I'm Roland, of the Order of the Forged." he told her, trying not to sound too awkward. "No I just arrived. I trust you're ready to head out?"

Once she confirmed it, he give her a nod and pull his cloak about him tighter so as it wouldn't slide off of his sword. The sheathe protected it readily enough, but he still wanted to prevent rust as much as possible. He saw she wasn't heavily armed like he was, but then again she probably didn't need to be. A staff was a smart choice, he realized. They'd do far more walking than fighting, if there truly was any danger out there other than the occasional wolf or bear.

"Let's hope the weather isn't a bad omen on us," he half joked as they began their walk down the road that led into the Knollwood. This forest was fairly civilized, but pockets of bandits were known to make their homes deeper within the forest. "Have you traveled much out of the city?"

"From time to time," she answered. The road they followed was wide and well traveled for the moment, but they'd eventually need to split off onto less serviceable paths leading them deeper into the forest and finally to the base of the mountains. Iseldis had a map tucked away in her pack, but she'd studied it so much she really didn't need it anymore.

"I've never been out of the region, but I've accompanied some of the more experienced brothers and sisters to other towns as part of my training." Not everything could be learned from texts and practice in the temple. She'd needed to observe her elders handling real situations to know what was really expected of her.

She didn't mind the rain, even if her robe was mostly damp by this point. The trees offered occasional cover from above, and though there was a slight chill settling in, it wasn't quite autumn yet, and the rain lacked the bite she knew it would have later in the year.

"What about you?" she asked, tilting her head towards him so she could see more than just the edge of her white hood. "Is this a usual job for the Order of the Forged, escorting priestesses about?" She guessed it wasn't, if she was reading him properly. He'd seemed surprised to see her, a little awkward even, so whatever she was, it wasn't what he'd expected.

The wind picked up a bit, but with the trees looming closer and closer together, it didn't have much kick to it. Still, drawing the cloak about him tighter, he suddenly seemed taller. The cloak now hugging his broad shoulders, making them prominent rather than shrouded behind cloth.

He was surprised she knew his Order. He had mentioned it, yes. But she spoke with a familiarity that she had at least heard of it before. That was good. It meant there was still a presence of the Forged in the region, if not the world. "We do whatever we are bid by our Chapter Master." he said, a melancholy in his voice that he caught only after he had spoken. He glanced at her, sighing. "Sorry, I...I suppose you might not know I'm one of the last members of the Order."

He shook his head, thick hair waving. So thick that the constant rain hadn't yet matted it all. He suddenly felt very awkward. "Doesn't matter. But yes, we escort people of importance often, if we're bid." Despite the forlorn topic, he bounced back quickly. He seemed a kind soul, not wanting to weigh his new traveling companion down with the burdens he carried. "You must have quite the pull to get me as a guard." He joked, giving her a subtle wink. "You're not a princess are you?"

It was a double edged comment, as there hadn't been a Princess born to the royal line of this land for over thirty years. Some...most, would consider that lucky to be constantly blessed with sons. But that also meant there was very little in the way of diplomatic power with the Mooringild line, as other nations needed to approach them to offer daughters in marriage, not the other way around. It didn't matter. He was simply a lowly squire, skilled in fighting, but more seasoned in carrying his Knight's gear and holding his shield than leading charges into battle or guarding royalty.

Iseldis laughed genuinely at his question, the sound echoing a little through the relative quiet of the forest. "That would be quite the revelation to me."

She supposed she looked a little like one, dressed as she was. Lunaia's servants were meant to be looked to, a new concept for Iseldis to come to terms with, but one she'd tried to embrace, and several elements of her outfit were purely decorative. There were silver ribbons fastened around her upper arms, securing her arm sleeves, a shimmering sash belt tied around her hips underneath the thinner black leather one, and she'd even woven another silver ribbon into her braided hair. Between those and the slitted sections of her long skirt, there was no small amount of cloth fluttering in the air behind her when she walked, especially when the wind picked up, as was the case now.

But she wore no crown of any kind, and most definitely was no princess. "I was one of the many orphans around the streets of Dal'Mahra, and the temple raised me. Not the easiest experience, but I wouldn't be trying to become a priestess if I'd hated it."

She hadn't known about his Order's state, and saw no reason to bring it up again. Roland didn't seem inclined to linger on it or want to discuss it, and she was more than willing to respect that. Plenty of things weren't easy to discuss with new acquaintances, as they still were.

They made good time on their journey, and though it was difficult to locate the sun through the trees and the overcast sky, Iseldis suspected it was around midday when she first started to feel... something. Something in the way the wind brushed the leaves and branches all around them, something about the shadows in the darker corners. It felt enough like being watched that Iseldis spun in a slow circle as she walked, peering cautiously into the woods all around her.

"Does it feel to you like we're being-"

Her words were cut off by a young man's cry, some mix of surprise, urgency, and relief. "Over here!" he shouted, and Iseldis spotted him running towards them from a trail splitting off from the main road. He couldn't have been more than twenty, dressed in peasant's garb with sandy blonde hair. He skidded to a halt before the two of them.

"What's wrong?" Iseldis asked, concerned at his state.

"We were told someone would be coming out this way today," he explained, breathless, "to deal with the monsters. It's good you're here. Draugr wandered into our village in the night."

Draugr. Undead warriors risen by dark magic. Sometimes it occurred naturally, other times not. Either way, they were a real danger. "How many?" she asked.

"Just two, but we have no soldiers, no one trained enough to defeat them. We managed to trap them in a house and barred the doors, but..." It didn't need saying. They had no one skilled in fighting to finish them, at least not without great risk. "If you could defeat them, I'm sure we can pay you something."

"There's no need for that," Iseldis answered quickly, waving him off. She glanced to Roland. "We can handle a few draugr, right?" She'd never fought one before, but if her studies and training had been worth anything, she'd be able to manage it.

Roland quickened his pace to receive the newcomer, holding his swordhilt, more to keep it from banging against his leg than to protect himself. The younger man looked harmless enough. He hadn't known what he expected from the lad, but two draugr being trapped in a home was definitely not it. Though he supposed it was better than bandits, depending on a few factors. He'd never faced beings wrought of dark magic, but he'd heard enough stories.

"Aye, I think we can handle that." Roland said, trying to keep the uncertainty out of his voice. It helped that he truly did think they could do it, but nervousness got the better of him. Though one of his good qualities was that he usually acted first and fretted later, and the young lad beamed at the proclamation.

"Oh thank you my lady, thank you sir." He said, giving many unpracticed bows.

There was a quick, guilty dismissal of the man as he really didn't need to praise them yet. Still, they agreed to help and he jumped at being able to guide them. He led them back to the small village area that seemed to pop out of nowhere through the thick trees. One could wonder what sort of things this forest could hide, if a whole village could be so hidden to not notice it until one stepped into the tree line.

The small houses made of timber and straw sat in a squat formation that made only three or four poor dirt roads leading into different goat paths into the forest. Smoke wafted lazily from makeshift chimneys, and the only place here that seemed sturdy enough to survive a harsh storm was a single old lookout tower made of stone that loomed thrice as high as the small houses. Townsfolk gathered round in the center of town, the men and a few elderly ladies squabbling among one another as the children and mothers sat on the porches with looks of both worry and excitement.

"I said we should have caved the tombs in years ago!" One man cried, and another man answered him with. "-They haven't bothered us until now, you think they were waiting for this? Something must have happened."

"It's Rottengild, the Crypt lord." an old woman foretold.

"Yer daft, it's old Therzun practicing his magics in the forest." The bearded blacksmith remarked. "He's the sort we need to go to the king about."

"Galena! Mistress of mercy, who is that?" a mother cried, pointing at Iseldis and Roland as they were led in by the lad, the crowd parting, no doubt thinking they were far higher rank than they truly were. But they gave them suspicious and odd looks all the same. The younger man spoke up. "I've found a Knight and a Monk o' the moon! By Baeldyr, they'll save us. Move! Let them through."
@Luminosity

Iseldis lowered her hood and ignored the rain so as to let the villagers see her better. They were unusual visitors no doubt; this place likely rarely saw shirts of mail or fine white robes. She was tempted to correct them on exactly what their stations were, but there was a job to be done. They could speak more when the village was no longer terrorized.

"We're here to help," she assured them. "Where are the draugr?"

"Trapped in old Jerras's house on the edge of the village," an older woman explained. "He's gone to town, can't imagine he'll be pleased when he returns. They came in the night, the two of them, swinging in a fury. They've gone silent now, dormant, so you'd best keep your voices down as you approach. They'll be none too pleased to see you."

"Please, my lady," the younger man that met them on the road cut in, "a few were wounded before we could trap the draugr. Can you do anything for them?"

"How badly?" Iseldis wanted and would be able to help, provided they weren't on the brink of death, but again, it would be best to make safe the village to ensure no one else got hurt.

"Nothing life-threatening," he assured her. "But you do know healing magic?"

"I'm no expert, but I'll help them, of course. After the draugr are dealt with."

With that they were guided to the edge of the village, on the side venturing deeper into the forest. The house is question was somewhat large by their village standards and fairly well built. The doors and few windows had been barred and blocked, and Iseldis heard nothing from within. The few villagers that ventured out with them fell completely silent, and a tension settled over the air.

A nervousness swelled up in her belly, and her heartbeat quickened. This would be no sparring match; if she lost, the draugr would kill her, and run rampant in the village again. But draugr, while fierce, were said to lack much of the skill they had in life, and relied on ferocity and resistance to pain to overcome it. As long as Iseldis fought smart, and as a team with her new partner, she could do this.

The furniture and other barriers to the front door were carefully and quietly removed, until all that was left to do was go inside, at which point the villagers all cleared out to a safe distance, leaving Iseldis and Roland to their work. Iseldis pulled her staff handle from her belt and took up a position to one side of the door, nodding to Roland that she was ready. As he was the one with the shield, she figured he'd be better off going in first. And she'd be right behind him.

Roland planted himself on the left side of the door, checking the strap on his kite shield to make sure it was tight and steady. The shield was emblazoned with a hammer and anvil sigil signifying his order, and though he wasn't a full Knight, it did give people peace knowing he had been trained by men of the rank. He looked up from his arms and armor and met eyes with Iseldis. She didn't look as full of trepidation as he felt, but he supposed they were both trying to keep cool headed. He gave her a grin, almost fierce. As if to say 'this is what we are here for.'

He turned the Knob, and didn't give the 'creak' of the door the time to give away their position. Instead he busted in, strong shoulders leading with his shield, but rather than knock over a Draugr he bumped into a couch which hit the central table, sending it screeching across the floor. Though it did provide an obstacle for the Draugr that was within the central room, the ghastly thing turning and letting out a dust-filled breath from its decayed lungs.

It had almost nothing left in common with the man it had been in life, save its two arms and legs and a semblance of the equipment it had been buried in. What looked like a worn chain shirt and a helm of hide and bronze. It was its eyes that were the most unnerving thing about it, glowing with blue witch-light that exuded a malevolent intelligence. That, and its teeth were sharp but few, its gums protruding after having bloated in death.

It knocked the chair aside that had been shoved in its way, going round the couch to try and attack Roland, who waited for a moment as it approached before he had a clear shot, and shoulder rushed the thing again. It was stronger than it looked, pushing back, but it had little momentum and hit a desk against the wall, its hip nearly crushed. Roland was sweating, having never fought anything so unnatural in his short career. His skin crawled merely being in the same room as it.

The other Draugr appeared out of the kitchen door, at the foyer the front door had been opened from. It hissed and stretched its arms out, seeing Roland's somewhat exposed back as a sign to attack.
@Luminosity

Any nervousness in Iseldis fled as soon as the time to act came. It was always in the waiting, and now that she could fight she felt a clear focus that not even the horrifying appearance of the draugr could shake. Her staff flared to life, extending to its full length and glowing white, filling the interior of the otherwise dark house with a soft light.

She interrupted the draugr lunging for Roland, deflecting its sword up and out of harm's way with one end of her staff before she brought the other end around for a swift strike to its gut. It stumbled back, and Iseldis pressed her advantage, aiming to drive it away and give herself more room to work. Her staff was difficult to use in confined spaces, and she couldn't afford a misstep here.

She pelted the draugr with a swift series of strikes, faster than it could hope to block, and when she saw the opening to make a heavier swing, she took it, spinning in a circle and landing a clean horizontal strike to the draugr's face. It was intended to knock a human opponent unconscious, and without thinking she applied the same strategy to the draugr.

Her staff took the draugr's jaw clean off, sending it and several sharp teeth flying across the room, but the creature did not seem to care, and counterattacked while Iseldis was still recovering from her swing. A shoulder bash caught her in the chest, driving her back a step, and though she managed to turn aside a thrust that would've impaled her, the draugr seized her by the throat, pushing her until her back collided with a wall. Her wind left her in a rush, and a brief moment of panic crept in. The draugr's hand was dry and scratchy against her neck, and a guttural growl bubbled up from its throat, malevolent sapphire eyes locked on her.

Their weapons were locked in a stalemate. Iseldis tried to pry the hand from her throat, tried to knee and kick the draugr away, but it was no use.

It was all he could do to keep the Draugr's claws from trying to tear chunks off of him. His armor would protect him from the brunt of it, but time wasn't on his side. The harsh, guttural screeching of the undead thing filled Roland's ear, and he growled back, his eyes moving from the horrid zombified corpse to Iseldis in an even worse situation.

With the strength of desperation, he shoved into the Draugr again, snapping one of its legs and causing its body to lurch over the table, spilling letters and an unlit candle onto the floor. His fingers closed tighter around the hilt of his blade, and stepping back, with the Draugr retching at him as it nearly tumbled off the table, he hacked into its chest. The blade hit gnarled flesh and bone, and he had to hack at the thing another time to sever the spinal cord and run through the ribcage.

It collapsed into a heap, its head still screeching, albeit more quietly as the blue grew dimmer in its eyes. Roland wasn't sure if it was dying or simply weakened. He didn't give it much thought, instead rushing toward his partner to give aid. He hadn't known her for much more than a conversation, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to keep her alive. The Forged had a code of honor as every other Order did, and he'd see it upheld.

He wished he could slay the thing in one fell sweep, but she was too tightly locked with the monster. He dropped his shield and half-sworded, holding onto the blade near the halfway point with his offhand, and he cut into the thing's arm, severing it. Unfortunately, the hand that had enclosed around Iseldis' throat still squeezed of its own accord, and the Draugr, now free, struck Roland in the face, cutting his cheek and sending him staggering.

It was by instinct that he lashed out with his blade, cracking its left knee and sending it falling onto its face. He didn't question good fortune, and stabbed downward into its skull, cracking the bone but not quite getting his swordpoint through onto the floor. The creature died all the same, the light fading from its eyes, and the bony hand that held Isaeldis' neck let go, falling to the floor limply.

Roland breathed heavily, reaching up to wipe the blood pouring down his cheek with his forearm. "Are you ok?" he asked her, feeling the warmth of the liquid drip down his neck a bit.

Iseldis struggled up until the hilt of a blade passed in front of her face, and suddenly the rest of the draugr behind it had been severed from its arm, and its attention turned on Roland. The priestess thought to help him and strike the draugr from behind, but she realized she still couldn't breathe. Even without the rest of its arm the draugr's hand was still choking her.

Her grip on it grew weaker as the room began to darken, but just in time Roland defeated the creature, and the hand suddenly relaxed around her neck. Iseldis gasped in a breath, sagging a little on the wall as she pulled the hand away and tossed it aside. She paused to take in a few breaths, checking herself to make sure she hadn't been wounded anywhere in the chaos. She found nothing.

"Yeah, I'm... I'm okay. That was--look out!"

She'd spotted the other draugr creeping with silent determination towards Roland, somehow still alive despite how much it had been damaged. Staff in hand, Iseldis covered the distance between them quickly, cutting off the draugr and landing a fierce kick to its head. With a screech it flipped over onto its back, and before it could so much as move she drove one end of her glowing white staff into its open mouth, piercing the roof and punching through its skull. That was enough to end it, the eerie light finally fading from its eyes.

Panting slightly, Iseldis withdrew her weapon and moved to the nearest piece of furniture, a tipped-over wooden table. She lowered her weight to rest on the edge of it, noting the slight shake in her hands from the adrenaline. Not the cleanest victory, but they were both in one piece, and the draugr very much were not.

"That was easy enough," she said, unable to help the grin that appeared. "Thanks for the save. You want me to take care of that cut?"

He had dropped his sword and drawn his dagger on pure muscle memory, more of a testament to those he learned from than himself. But it seemed he needn't, because his companion burst into action and ended the threat before it began. He might have been the one to save her earlier, but that move was a work of art in his opinion. He sheathed his dagger as she caught her breath, though his eyes were still on her for a few moments. At least until she grinned at him and he realized he was staring.

"Huh? Oh yeah." he said, smiling at himself as much as her. He reached up and felt the wet blood on his cheek. He'd almost forgotten he'd been cut. "Yes, please." He breathed, pulling himself a chair and taking a seat.

As she went to work he looked at thew Draugr corpses. He now could appreciate what they'd just accomplished, and he couldn't help but grin as well like she had moments ago. It was nothing out of the tales, but it was a battle with the undead. And they had aided distraught villagers. More than anything that was what was important, he reminded himself. As her fingers brushed his cut, he looked away and to his credit, didn't grimace. He knew she'd probably need him to remain still.

As the sounds of battle had faded, they heard a knock on the wall and a muted voice from outside.

"Oi, you lot still alive or wot!?"

Iseldis hmmed as she inspected the cut on Roland's face, the white light of her staff illuminating one side of them. It didn't look too serious, but admittedly the interior of this dingy house wasn't the best for doing healing work. "Come on, let's get outside."

With a snap her staff retracted into the handle, casting the room in darkness again, and she attached the handle to her belt, leading the way back out into the fresh forest air. Even a few moments with the draugr had been enough to fill her nostrils with the scent of undead. Their presence was not something she was used to yet, but she supposed she'd have to get there someday. So long as she kept winning her battles like this.

"The draugr are finished," she announced to the gathered group of villagers, who had no doubt been listening to the entire struggle. A collective sigh of relief went through them, followed by a series of thanks sent their way. Iseldis couldn't help but smile. "Let me take care of my partner here, and then I'll see to your wounded." More thank-yous followed, and then the villagers began to disperse, no doubt to spread the news to any that hadn't heard.

"Sit here," Iseldis instructed, gesturing to one of the chairs they'd used to bar the front door. She grabbed another and turned it around so that she could sit in front of him. "Turn your head a little, and hold still. This won't hurt much."

The tip of her index finger lit with a soft, white, magical light, and she lifted it to the cut. Her magic was always more difficult to summon in the daytime, but fixing simple cuts wouldn't be taxing enough to affect her come nightfall. She set to work cleaning the wound first, making sure there was no risk of infection. A draugr's hands were bound to be filthy.

"That was my first fight against a draugr," she admitted, starting to mend the wound back together. "I knew they'd be tough, but I knocked the jaw clean off one and it didn't seem to care. Suppose I underestimated it." She still felt a little uneasy, like more were watching them, but draugr weren't exactly stealthy. Probably just the aftereffects of the fight. "I'm sure we'll run into more at their source, but if we go at night, my magic should deal with them much easier. It'll be quite the light show." Of that much she was certain. The gifts of Lunaia that she'd trained in were specifically meant for burning away creatures like draugr. She was rather looking forward to it now, a chance to really hone her skills.

"What about you?" she asked. "Fought draugr before, or anything like it?"

He felt somewhat awkward as she prepared his seat and handled the townspeople, but that was mostly his fault because she was doing exactly as she should have been. He just didn't want to move too much in case it would alter her healing powers for the wound in some way. Luckily that wasn't the case, and he sat down where he was bid and kept his head still, closing his eyes as she checked and healed the wound. It wasn't too deep, but it would be annoying and unnecessary to lose blood over a simple cut.

"I didn't know that," he admitted, referring to her powers being greater at night. He could barely comprehend how she could summon healing magic like that, much less how she powered herself with the moon. He had heard that members of his order could heal and summon fire at will, but that was far beyond his skills and probably forever would be. "I suppose I should have known it, though. With your order. Is it only if the moon is out, or does it simply get more powerful as the night continues?" he asked curiously.

Once she was done, he opened one eye to check, and then both. It had felt very odd being mended, but once the wound was healed, he felt one hundred percent again. He rubbed his cheek a bit when she asked her question. "No, I've only fought people before." he said. "My late master let me fight with him in two battles before he died. I was lucky to live through those, much less going into a lair of what could be filled with more Draugr but..."

Roland sighed and shrugged. It was their job, and he would see it through with a steadfast determination. "Let's get back on the road," he said, opening the door. "Before we-"

"Thank you!!!" a woman cried, which heralded a multitude of people cheering for them and offering them foodstuffs and places to stay for the night. Roland was effectively tongue tied. He would have refused outright, but he wasn't sure what was best for the both of them at the moment.

Iseldis was pretty proud of her work. Roland's cut wouldn't even scar too much. "The night helps, the moon helps more." She smiled. "We're not powerless when there's cloud cover. We wouldn't be too threatening then." The region saw fairly frequent rains, and while some of her order found the absence of the moon's light more difficult than others, Iseldis has never been overly taxed by it. The night time was key, though. She'd exhaust herself far too quickly to be useful slinging spells and magic weapons in the daylight. At least until she could better hone her abilities.

She wasn't surprised to hear he'd been through battles before. Iseldis had healed soldiers returning from war before, and they shared a look that she saw in Roland. She got the sense that none of them were the same people that they were when the first battle started. Perhaps draugr were more frightening than the average man, but killing draugr didn't leave the same mark on a soul killing a man would.

Before long the townsfolk were swarming them, just as Roland was trying to leave. She would've been against it anyway, but now it seemed they had no choice but to stay. "It can't hurt to rest a while and eat," she said. "I need to see to some of the villagers, and we can see what they know about the source of the draugr. It'd be best to confront them after dark, anyway."

...

Evening came quicker than expected, but Iseldis was kept busy healing the villagers injured in the draugr attack. They told her wild tales about where the draugr came from, most repeating the names Rottengild and Therzun, but they sounded more like stories to Iseldis, things to keep the children from running away from the village. They did speak of a nearby cave, however, a place they called Blackglass, and a place they'd avoided for years. It was possible it was actually a crypt, once used by the ancestors of the land but long since forgotten. It seemed like the best place to start, so she acquired directions.

In the evening the villagers treated them to a feast in their main hall, one they'd been planning to have anyway. Iseldis ate lightly, knowing they'd be on the move later in the night, and spent most of the time conversing with the villagers. Clearly today was the most exciting day they'd had in perhaps years, and Iseldis found their excitement infectious.

"You're set on exploring Blackglass then?" asked a boy named Owen from across the table of Iseldis. He was eighteen at most, and after she'd healed his leg today he was plainly infatuated with her, which she dutifully ignored. "We never go there. Back to my grandparents' time, no one goes there."

"Well, Roland and I will go there," she answered. "If that's the source of the draugr, we'll clean them out, and I'll cleanse the source. Simple, really." She turned her head to Roland seated beside her. "Sounds like a plan, right?" She wasn't sure how much he was enjoying the attention, if at all. He seemed a bit awkward before, but Iseldis couldn't help but enjoy herself.

It felt good to see all these people smiling because of something she'd helped to do.

For his part, Roland wished he could have done more to help people like Iseldis could. In his heart of hearts he knew he likely never would be able to, no matter how hard he trained or prayed. But he had come to terms with it years ago, and he did what he could. While his companion healed some of the townsfolk, Roland took aside a few of the men, who seemed eager to see what he had to say. They lead him around the hillock of the town and he told them the best places to dig and collect lumber, so they could make the settlement a bit more defensible. It was lucky Roland and Isledis had come when they did, and they wouldn't always be around.

That night, the feast was in full swing and despite himself, Roland relaxed and enjoyed the food. He waited a bit to get his share, because he recalled as a child that his mom always got onto him for taking more food than he should whenever there was a feast, so he had learned to wait and let others get their share first. Once he sat down (with a chair having been saved for him by Iseldis, though if it was her choice or the villagers, he didn't know), he caught the tail end of the Draugr conversation.

He sat up straighter when he heard the topic, the soldier in him ready to face any challenge. Blackglass...he had never heard of the place before, but if there was more Druagr to slay, he would be for it. Having seen them move earlier, he felt he was more prepared to face them now. Hopefully this time ending their local threat for good. He might have been a bit out of his element in front of all of the villagers, but that was because he had always been the servat...the squire. Never the hero.

He couldn't help but smile when Iseldis spoke. "I'm ready when you are," he told her earnestly. He'd eat heavily, but with his metabolism, he needed the energy. A quick pint and some water with it, and he was a work horse again. He supposed he also didn't feel too full because he'd hardly eaten the entire day beforehand, but hey.

When the feast was finished, the townsfolk they had been speaking to offered their hands to shake. Roland had stood up, preparing to bow, but after a moment decided to give a handshake back with a strong grip. He wasn't serving a Lord, he was helping new friends.

It probably seemed unusual to the villagers for their guests to depart in the dark, but Iseldis was used to long days and longer nights. Drawing from the moon helped her partially replace the need to sleep, and tonight the moonlight often pierced through scattered crowds and the trees over their heads. She'd have to be sure not to push her partner over his limits, but no doubt Roland was used to long nights as well, if he had experience soldiering.

Iseldis led the way with her glowing white staff in hand, a floating ball of magic leading the way for her, illuminating the darkness of the forest. It cast strangely shaped, twisting and shifting shadows into the distance as they moved, and while it could be unsettling at times, Iseldis preferred it to the impenetrable darkness they'd be faced with otherwise.

Iseldis felt confident, far more so than she had leaving the city this morning. What little time she'd spent in her robes helped her feel comfortable in them, and her time among the villagers helped her feel like she might belong in them. The chance to battle a few isolated draugr was fortunate as well. Though it hadn't gone perfectly, she didn't freeze in battle, and now she knew how they moved, how they sounded, how they fought. It would make the real danger in this Blackglass place more manageable.

But still...

"Can't help but feel like we're being watched." She didn't hardly need to speak in more than a whisper to be heard by Roland. "But I doubt draugr would stalk us without attacking. Not the first time I've felt this way today, to be honest." There were times when the rustling in the trees seemed like more than just the wind, but it never amounted to anything.

She tried to shake off the feeling. "I'll be very annoyed if anyone from the village followed us." That she said a little louder, no doubt to be heard if in fact they were being followed. This was their business to resolve, and too dangerous for untrained villagers.

The trek had been long since they had made their leave from the township. But luckily, they had actively done their best to keep quiet and move silently, granting one another looks every now and then and signalling which way they should go, so there were no uncomfortable silences. Simply silence. Iseldis looked radiant during the day, but somehow under the moonlight night, she was even a more enchanting sight to see. She seemed taller and stronger, and more graceful.

What's more, through the thickets and trees of the night, he found they worked well together. That, coupled with how well they had gotten along earlier, he felt they could be friends once the mission was completed...provided they both survived. His hand was never far from his blade hilt, and he had to agree with her assessment. Despite their best efforts, he felt unease throughout their nightly journey, and it wasn't from his companion.

"The dead walk these lands," he said back softly. This time he did place his hand on the hilt of his blade. "Whatever evil stirs these creatures likely has a presence that pervades all." The two halted for a moment, a fog having slowly drifted onto the scene before them. It only reached their waists, and did not obscure their vision much, truth be told. But it still caused a chill to run up Roland's spine. He smiled though, glancing at Iseldis. "That doesn't mean they know we're coming. Only that we know they're here."

A gust of wind picked up, drawing Roland's hard gaze and whipping his hair ever so gently. It was as if the crypt beyond the tree line was inviting them...or warding them off. And indeed they could see the silhouettes of the gravestones beyond the trees, perhaps two dozen paces away. Roland felt he had to be seeing things, for some of the gravestones moved. No...

"Draugr." he said, drawing his sword finally.

Iseldis had to admit she was glad to have Roland along. Veteran travelers of her priesthood were known to take on these kinds of tasks alone, dangerous though they were, but she couldn't imagine facing this without help. The dark woods and fog clinging to the ground were unnerving, unlike the city streets she was so used to, but having Roland there gave her the confidence to keep moving with a steady ease, and perhaps something approaching grace.

When they neared the crypt Iseldis snuffed out the floating light above their heads and returned her staff to its place on her belt. The moonlight filtered well enough through the clouds into the clearing to allow them to see, and Iseldis figured it was better to not announce her location to the draugr with a bright white light. As for her staff, she had more dangerous weapons to call upon at night...

When Roland alerted her to the draugr, she lowered herself to take cover behind a gravestone as he drew his sword. Visibility was a little limited, but she soon saw two, aimlessly wandering perhaps twenty strides from one another. Perhaps there were more lurking in the fog, but these were the two she could see. The entrance to Blackglass was somewhere beyond, but these draugr needed to be dealt with before they wandered off.

She glanced to Roland with a bright little smile. "I'll take out the one on the left. The other should rush us. You can take him, and I'll keep you covered if there are any more."

Iseldis had been waiting all day for the chance to push herself and test her abilities, and here it was. She drew in a deep breath, centering herself, and as she softly exhaled, a silvery-white light wreathed her arms. She stood to her full height, lifting her arms out before her, and the light rushed to solidify in the air as a large, glimmering bow, an arrow of light already nocked and ready to be drawn.

The draugr noticed, but by the time the one on the left turned to face her Iseldis had released the glowing string. The arrow lanced to its target almost instantly, faster than a typical arrow could, leaving a bright trail of light behind in the air that slowly faded into darkness. The arrow not only pierced the draugr's dark chest, it burst into a shower of light particles that tore the creature asunder from the waist up. What was left of it fell in a heap to the ground.

Exhilaration rushed through the priestess, and though she smiled she tried to suppress her excitement for the moment, for the other was charging them, and more could be lurking near. She'd save the celebration for when she no longer felt the eerie presence of the darkness around her.