[IC] Knights of Melarus

[SepticGentleman]

Karkadin Gatoa

---

They were all in a proper company now, working their way through the thick of Maceron’s undead blight. Kane, Pietro, Anna, Wizzlebee (and his company), and Karkadin. A unsightly band of liberators if ever there was one. The dorak wasn’t at all familiar with the lot of them but, a crisis like this had a strange way of bringing people together. Strange people, at that.

“Hey! Hey! Over here! Help!”

The company stopped, and turned towards the source of the plea. A young woman, standing atop a fine manor’s roof. Her call for help bred a moment of pause and (admittedly one-sided) bickering between the knight and the gnome. Where to have her once they rescued her, to stay safe from all this. As they went, Karkadin elected to get things done a little more quickly. Through the words, Karkadin stood up atop Bruk’s shell, and stretched his legs over the space towards his horn. He took a moment to secure his balance, placing one foot after the other at a good spot between the spikes. He gripped the surface with his two big toes, and at that point, he was ready.

Just as Kane said to Wizzlebee he’d be counting on him to keep the girl safe, Karkadin called out, “Yuda!”

Bruk immediately clicked and poised himself, legs reaching upwards, bottom off the ground, head lowered. In one quick movement, he shot his head upward, flinging Karkadin off of his horn and upwards into the air, just above the roof of the manor. He flailed a bit as a he soared, arching over the roof's edge. The beetle’s immense strength gave Karkadin all the force he needed to land on the roof, a bit away from the girl. He gripped a nearby window’s edge to catch his footing, and once he stabilized himself, turned to the girl.

“You alright?” He asked.

[Nosuchthing]

Vyri Underfoot and Karkadin Gatoa

---

Written in collaboration with @SepticGentleman

The figure atop the enormous beetle resolved into the tall, lean figure of a Dorak. It took her a moment to recognise the creature's race for a moment. She had seen one or two, but they were few and far between in Port Orarius. it was a little intimidating. Ok, it was very intimidating, but appeared to mean her no harm, which was a relief.

"You alright?" The dorak asked.

Oh good, more stupid questions.

Vyri had not been particularly comforted by the knight's suggestion. The reason she was stuck up here were, after all, the wights that had broken into the house now. She had no desire to make her way back through those corridors now that they might be populated by the undead. The addition of what was apparently a Dorak warrior certainly made the prospect of braving the opulently decorated rooms a more attractive prospect, though she would have preferred if he'd arrived equipped with a ladder.

"I'm fine, but they're in the house and..."

She gestured noncomittally with the stool leg. "It's this or a frying pan, and I'm pretty sure neither were made with monster slaying in mind."

The dorak nodded in reply, turning his head towards the roof edge. "Bad idea to jump back down..." He muttered. He glanced at the rest of the company and called out, "We'll be down in a moment!" Lastly, he turned back to Vyri and said, "I'll get you through the house. Let's go." He turned again, making for one of the manor's decorative windows leading into a very large attic, from the exterior's appearance. He watched his step along the roof's surface, and waved Vyri over.

She followed cautiously, the length of wood clutched between her hands like some sort of holy icon. The Dorak seemed far more confident about facing the creatures, and he was actually properly armed, which was comforting. She fought against her instincts to bow her head deferentially, it was hardly appropriate right now.

"After you."

The dorak nodded, and proceeded to try and open up the window. It was, however, understandably locked. He responded by carefully drawing his spear and hitting the window with its blunt length. Smashed the glass, split the wood, until it was relatively clear. Petty vandalism was nothing over a rescue, it seemed. The dorak ducked his head and stepped inside, with Vyri following behind him, minding the leftover glass.

She stepped carefully over the smashed glass within the window frame, clambering awkwardly through the now newly opened aperture in her dress. It was dark, only a few windows letting light into the storage space, spilling faint splintered beams across the floorboards. There were no wights in here, but she knew they would be just below them. They continued over to the hatch that lead down to the living space below, it was solid, a heavy oaken thing that looked as though it were opened about once a decade. Dust lay thick about it

The dorak knelt down and undid the latch, unfolding the ladder and sending it downward. He turned two of his four eyes towards Vyri and said, "Stay close, I'll handle the... things. Wights." He seemed to forget the creatures' collective name for a moment, before correcting himself. "If you find a better weapon than... that, then you should grab it." And with that, he made his way down the ladder.

She followed tentatively, but his suggestion of finding another weapon did not appeal. She was a servant, not a mage, not a warrior, the only thing she would be able to cut with a real sword would be herself. She was loathe to use the kitchen knives in her pack against the wight's, and she'd rather have something with some weight behind it. Better to smash than daintily stab.

"I wouldn't know how to use one..."

"Better than just your fists." The dorak replied, as he kept his odd-looking spear at the ready, cautiously stepping through the elegant hallway of the manor the duo had descended into. There were sounds, yes, of wights nearby - grinding teeth, creaky bones, and low the faintest, ethereal moans. It was unnerving, but the dorak looked to be holding well against it.

Vyri was evidently holding far less well than the warrior. Her nerves were unsteeled by combat or discipline, and it showed in her face. She was nervous, and she clutched the length of wood with whitening fingers. The faint moans of wights were just barely audible along the corridors, and three shambling figures rounded the corner. They stopped, and their heads slowly turned, fixing the pair with eyeless stares.

Now we see if he has true warrior mettle

She managed to disguise her automatic response as a sudden intake of breath. Hopefully the warrior would have been distracted by the sudden arrival of a threat, one which was advancing rapidly.

[SepticGentleman]

Karkadin Gatoa and Vyri Underfoot

---

Karkadin raised his spear as the first wight rushed towards him, thrusting the sharp end in between its ribs as he'd done so earlier. The wight was stopped cold, unable to push its ribs past the thick shell around the spear's end. Another of the undead trio charged forth, the third in tow, and Karkadin responded appropriately. He swiped his spear to the left wall, the wight stuck on its end falling off and topling over. The second wight swung at the dorak with its ragged arms, only to be kicked back onto the floor. The third, however, got a lucky hit in with a mess of bones and other random debris tied around its hand, hitting Karkadin's shoulder before he could get a chance to block. He grunted, reeling a bit, and the wight took the chance to attack once again. Karkadin shot out his free hand, grabbing the wight's exposed neck vertebrae and furiously throttled the creature, disconnecting the skull from the rest of the body, which crumpled onto the floor.

Karkadin, teeth grit and eyes wide, held the skull in his hands by the stump of its neck. He turned towards another wight, now recovering from its past blow, and stepped forth to beat it over its head, with a head. Three bashes, and both skulls were well and split wide open. Karkadin slammed his foot on the downed wight's neck, severing its skull as well. He quickly sheathed his spear and promptly took both skulls towards a nearby window. Not even bothering to check if it was locked, he smashed the glass with the slightly more intact of the two skulls, and tossed what little remained out onto the streets below. That would incapacitate them well enough, for a moment.

But there was the third one. Karkadin turned to see the last of the trio stumbling towards Vyri, who was backing away with that stool leg raised, and shaking. He quickly dashed towards it and grabbed its skull with both of his hands, fingers in the eye sockets, twisting the neck with a horribly audible snap, and threw it out the window as well. Now, there was nothing but them, and the crumpled skeletons lying on the floor. Karkadin, taking in a few good breaths, looked at Vyri and said, "So far, so good... let's get downstairs…”

She complied, and the duo proceeded. Karkadin’s shoulder was stinging, but not so badly hurt he couldn’t fight. These wights were using horribly ineffective weapons - well, that one was, at least. Karkadin shook off the slight pain and led Vyri through the hallway, until they came upon a large living room. It was, for the most part, undamaged, save for some scuffs on the overturned furniture, possibly from people trying desperately to escape the onslaught. There were wights dotted around the room, who immediately took notice of the dorak and the girl. Stealth was definitely not an option now.

Two wights made the first move, bounding towards Karkadin and Vyri. One thankfully stumbled over a broken table, while Karkadin swiped at the remaining one’s head. “Stay behind me!” He called out, taking a stand as the rest of the group made for him. Each went down with a swipe of the dorak’s spear, or a swift kick to their exposed spines. They, however, reformed about as quickly as they went down. The duo elected to keep moving while Karkadin fended off the wights, with Vyri running past and Karkadin backing up towards the opposite door in her stead. He jabbed at every advancing wight, though one managed to get in close and pushed Karkadin through the doorframe. He grabbed its neck, pushed it back into the living room, and shut the door. Respondedly, Vyri was already pushing a somewhat small marble standl along the floor, which had once held an elegant suit of armor, the pieces now scattered about the floor. It didn’t look too effective, but there weren’t a wide array of options available. Karkadin positioned the stand in front of the door once Vyri brought it over, and neither of them wasted time to see if it helped it all. They ran through the hallway, and down a staircase that led into the main foyer of the manor.

Surprisingly, there weren’t as many wights in the more open space. Some meandering about the bottom floor, seemingly devoid of immediate intent. “Go!” Karkadin said to Vyri, and neither of them hesitated - they bolted down the staircase, straight past the wights and towards the front doors of the manor, the doors already slightly ajar. First out was the dorak, then the girl, and then the group of wights, joined by the others from upstairs - passed the impromptu barricade all too fast. They all dashed through the street, circling around the corner, where the rest of the company lied in wait - the men, the gnome, the fairfolk, and the beetle.

They’d make short work of these pursuers.

[Maxx]

---

Pietro Machelli and Anna Strauss

---

As the party of unlikely heroes entered deeper into the city, the situation began to look worse. Few civilians were left alive on the streets. The dead lay prone across the streets, their wounds still gushing blood. Anna stopped to check the pulse of one or two of them, but none were alive. Blood ran down the gutters lining the streets and down into the drains. This part of the street seemed oddly barren, as if the wights had all gone off to hunt in a different area. Pietro assumed differently; they were being ambushed. He kept his sword in his right hand, ready to strike should any opponent appear. Anna walked as close to Kane as she could without arousing suspicion. The large beetle was certainly a comfort. As Karkadin and some girl they had never seen before ran out of a building, the monstrous bug charged towards them and destroyed the wights.

The party reached a large four-way intersection halfway between the city gates and the central keep. A shadow passed overhead, but its source disappeared as Pietro looked up. He could hear screams off in the distance. He couldn't tell whether or not they were human. The shadow passed over again. Pietro looked up at where the sun shone through the dark clouds. It seemed as if a vulture was circling overhead, but something was off about it. He watched it for a minute or two, trying to tell what it was that disturbed him about the creature. His face froze as he realized what it was. Pietro stopped in his tracks. He turned to face the party and held out his arms.

"Stop," he said. "Look up there." He gestured to the bird with his sword. Anna followed his gaze to the bird, and frowned.

"It's a vulture, Pietro," Anna said. "Nothing special about it." Pietro's face was frozen, his mouth agape. The bird stopped circling and began to descend.

"That's no vulture," he said. "Everyone, get inside. Now!" Anna's eyes were still locked on the bird. She began to realize the problem. Vultures didn't have bodies that long. Vultures didn't have claws on their wings.

"Run!" Anna scanned the intersection and identified a small butcher shop on the corner. She sprinted to it at full speed. Pietro wasn't far behind her. "Let's go!" he cried out. "Everyone follow me!" An ear-splitting, hawk-like scream echoed through the air. The black bird descended upon the party. It had the body shape of a human, with long legs ending in sharp claws and wings instead of arms. The black feathers on its body hung on by a string, as if they could fall off at any moment. Under the feathers, leathery tan flesh could be seen. It had massive black wings which cast a shadow down upon its prey, and three batlike claws at the joint of its wings. It had a leathery, human-like face and long black hair tied into a single braid. A piece of bloody cloth was stuck between two of its teeth. Its cracked lips framed misshapen, yellowed teeth.

Anna ran for the gaping hole that was once the butcher shop's window. The creature dove after her, its clawed feet outstretched towards her wings. Anna noticed that the claws were coated in metal. Just as the monster swiped for her, she dove through the window of the shop. She hit the wooden floor hard. A shard of glass cut her right wing. She cried out in pain. The monster lunged for Pietro next, and grabbed him by his cloak. It pulled as hard as it could, but its claws cut shredded the fabric. It lost its grip and he escaped through the hole. He hoped the others weren't far behind.

"Pietro!" Anna yelled as she ran. "What is that?" He looked at her grimly.

"Fury," he said slowly. "It's a fury."

Outside, the situation quickly became dire. The clouds up above grew darker, shrouding the land in shadows. The wights began to approach the intersection, dragging their feet first and then beginning to jog towards the party. Some of their mouths still dripped with blood. One near the front of the pack held a severed leg in its right hand. It seemed as if a massive portion of the horde was converging on this one point. The fury swooped up just before it hit the ground and effortlessly took back off into the air. It circled the party, watching as the ambush fell into place. It was said that furies always frowned, but this one nearly smiled.

[Nosuchthing]

---

Vyri Underfoot

---

Vyri didn’t look behind her as they charged out of the building, though she winced at the sound of bones snapping and skulls exploding under the charge of enormous beetle. She would have shrieked in terror at its approach, but was too focused on getting as far away from the wights behind her as she possibly could. It was definitely friendly though. At least for now she mused as the crunching and snapping continued.

“Oh Ma’el thank you!”

She clambered awkwardly onto the coach beside a small and extremely elderly gnome.

“I thought those things were going to… going to…”

Exactly what those things had been going to do caught up to her, and she slumped in the seat of the coach, her face considerably whiter.

“Vara…”

She realised that one of the warriors was indicating the sky with the sword, and she looked up to see an enormous bird circling above them, except there was something strange about it, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

I haven’t seen one of them in a very long time, figuratively speaking…

“What?”

She’d almost forgotten about the old sage, and responded automatically. Fortunately she was staring at the creature and the swordsman was still talking. She could only hope that the gnome either hadn’t heard her or assumed that she was simply questioning the impossibility of the descending avian.

The fairfolk who was speaking had already started running before Vyri registered that she was in danger, the swordsman took off after her with the rapid reaction of a warrior. A simple servant couldn’t hope to move as fast, not when she nearly fell flat as she scrambled from the seat of the coach to crawl under it.

Follow them!

“Now?”

Once the monstrous flying beast had soared into the sky once more she scrambled on all fours across to the shop in which the party had taken shelter. Then the shock set in. She slumped down against the wall wrapping her gloved hands about her knees.

“We’re going to die…”

[Spoopy Scary]

_and

---

The situation grew more and more dire with each passing second. Kane didn't feel any better even with a figurative army around him, rather, their lives weighed down on his shoulders. The servant girl, as unseemly as she was, did not help that looming dread as she another precious life he became responsible for. Although composed, he felt pale. With his mind, his face also turned to her, also beside Wizzlebee who absentmindedly carted his coach along while attempting his hand at reassurance, placing an actual hand delicately around the lady's arm.

"There, there." The old gnome would say, followed by some naive promise of sanctuary - no such thing was guaranteed, but Kane would try his damnedest to follow through on that promise, even with the absence of a proper mind. John's death had shook him terribly, far more than he would have expected. Far more than the deaths of any other person. Perhaps it didn't help that John was still a boy.

"Stop!" Suddenly yelled the swordsman. A sense of urgency overcame Kane by default. As their attention was redirected to the sky, he immediately understood. There was no time for him to question, only enough to act.

As Anna yelled at them to run, Kane yelled, "Let's go!" He grabbed Wizzlebee by the scruff of his robes, who in turn was also yelling and throwing a fit, making his indigence very clear to the guardsman who had grabbed him. As he hauled the gnome along, he also tried to keep an eye on the servant girl, but also on the Fury as he kept a defensive poise, keeping it at bay with warning jabs with his spin toon.

From inside the coach, there was banging and carrying on, though inaudible over all the commotion outside.

"Hey, what's happening? What is going on out there?!"

Eventually, all of them (except for Bartleby, who was safe regardless), made it inside safe and sound. Wizzlebee was still fuming from Kane's treatment, and Kane himself was moving around inside the butcher shop like a mad man trying to barricade any possible entry while Pietro explained what was after them.

He flipped tables behind doors, chairs in any of the open windows and other miscellaneous items that might seal Daraden's outside a couple seconds longer.

"What I want to know is why a Fury is so far into Talbor." Kane said.

"An army of this many undead, I'd number this Daraden a lich!" Wizzlebee said proudly.

"A lich?" Kane repeated incredulously. The only lichens he ever heard of were ones from legends. Their bones were now nothing more than long lost evil relics.

"But Furies... no, no, no, not dead! Opportunistic, yes! Mayhaps be scavenging the leftovers, yes... they've valuable bones and features..." Wizzlebee continued.

Kane crossed his arms. "We can't put it past them that some of them might have allied with the enemy. If Daraden has eyes across Tithe, that doesn't bode well for us. Furies are already dangerous at the best of times."

"Allies?!" Wizzlebee exclaimed, then scratching his chin with his mint green nails. "Well, I suppose so. Where the wights go, carnage follows, hm?"

The gnome then looked shyly towards Pietro. "What do you think, handsome?"