Ryan

The Realm of Men

"Open the gates! Quickly!" A lone rider, steering two horses immediately dashed into the gate - the looming shadow had only grown darker and the sentries were less than pleased by the looming clouds. They grew darker every day. Henry panted loudly, almost dropping to his knees; he'd been lost for nearly a day but he had finally found his way back to their wayward home. He considered it a miracle in any honesty. Or something. All that stuck in his head was the thought of wine. Now he was here? Time to indulge, he shouted in his head. Though, as he dismounted he felt as if the damnable woman was looming over him, whispering into his ear to tell him to stop being a lazy twit and do as she told him.
Whatever love he bore her was more subjective than anything else or just the fascination he had. It was dumb, really, but before he could even think the General was on-top of him; probably literally, if he got any closer. He grabbed him by the hem of his tunic and hauled him towards him with a very threatening look on his face, born from pain and agony. "Where is she!?" He bellowed, drawing the attention of the hundreds of soldiers that camped within the massive fort. He was in too much fear to even notice how many people had gathered to watch or perhaps noticed the Princess' absence. Was she that much of a beacon to these people?
Henry was dumbfounded and stuttered. "S-S-She sent me away. Said to tell the Master everything. Give him this letter. H-... He told me to do as she said! No matter what!"
"Enough of this malarkey! Go to him then, boy. I will escort you. If you harmed my niece in any-way I will beat you bloody and then string you up." His tone bore more pain than anything threatening which made Henry pity him more than fear, not that he'd dare say it to him; this man was a hard, battle-trained and tested killing machine. He could barely use a sword or his fists. Either way, he was dragged along towards the Command tent were all the anxious officers stood around the command table. Some mahogany monstrosity they carried around everywhere. It was supposed to be the first Order's table or something. He never got it, though. Just buy a new one?

The Master, greyed and wise, rose his head and patted down his whiskers with his fine leather gloves. There was a set over the top of his lip. He was overall a sound man of strategy and wit, there was a reason he had led the Order long before he was even thought of. Forty years, some say. He had no name beyond the one he gave up when he became Grandmaster. A fickle title, but a very honourable one. He had to make the hard choices which just made him even more respectable.
"Henry, my boy. You are alone; this is troubling. Has the Princess paid the ultimate sacrifice to darkness?" The Master's tone dimmed some, remorse filling him.
Henry spoke up quickly, hoping to not let that emotion sit for long. "No! She's alive, I know it. She just... sent me off, y'know. Wanted to make sure you knew, my Lord. Here. She gave me this, for you alone. It was the details of the talks she had with the King. He has agreed to help, but we must attack the Raylian's and purge them from the North." He nodded, thrusting the letter forward which was taken by one of the officers and then passed down solemnly until the master could break Freda's seal and start to pour over the transcribed meeting.
"I see. She spoke with my voice as we agreed. Good. We march in the morn. General, prepare. Everyone else, get the regiments in order. Henry - go with the search party I will organise in the next hour. Lead them to where you came from and go find the source of that... magical explosion we saw a day before. Everyone else, you know what to do. Dismissed." The Grandmaster sat himself back down and rested both her hands on the Throne of the Phoenix, it was almost as ornate as the Golden Throne in Midway - nearly. Henry wondered if Freda would get to sit there one day. Maybe him beside him? He felt stupider just thinking that.

Henry slogged off to go find the latrine and some wine. Gods did he need some wine.

Later...

"This boy knows where to go. Keep him safe and make sure you bring the Princess back to us immediately. I trust she is safe; there is no better warrior amongst us nor one with such prestige. Prestige we are sorely lacking. That and her father would have all our heads for letting her die on her own." He sighed lowly, giving the Knight's a stern gaze which let them know they were to be swift.
The three Knight's echoed out in unison. "Ava'vid'vor akem! For the Phoenix, 'til death." Henry couldn't say the words of a Knight but he sorely wanted too. Maybe it was time to try? Maybe. He was swimming at this point, positively smashed but hid it pretty well as long as he didn't speak. Either way, he jerked in surprise as the Grandmaster slapped his horses behind and set it off to a bolt where the three armoured Knight's that was his entourage dogged his heels and they rode from the Keep in search of the illustrious warrior that had been away for weeks. Banners flew in the wind and pride swelled.

The Order of the Phoenix prepared for a war. The first one in nearly a century.

The Realm of Men

My Hider

youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detai..

Freda heaved her sword in an arc, slashing against another warrior's sword in a shower of sparks. The warrior recoiled back as they collapsed sword. She twisted her sword down his blade and then forward over the cross-guard - which sent the broadsword through the Knight's faceguard and into his head. She recoiled with a gasp, twisting her head to the side and pulled the sword out from the man's face. He fell down. Dead. Another glance at her echo-less form sent shivers down her spine.
The form of a dark shade as it was before. This was all a dream, she knew - she was somewhere but was not awake. She knew it. Even if she had all her abilities of fighting.

Freda stood over the giant stone gate, it was open for her now. The only issue was all the warriors of old she found. All corrupted and black just as she was; the angry souls of the dead would assail her wherever she went. They all seemed in an immense influx, even if only a few went to attack her. They swarmed the area, almost - as if some grand event was about to actually begin. Whatever it was, the feeling was ominous but no fear filled her; it was as if something guarded her from it. Or what kept her hidden in the dense mass of timeless warriors. Past the gate and through the grand entrance there seemed to be the remnants of a town here with ancient language no one could try to decipher, yet the spirit that guided her helped with this. It, he, she? Whatever it was, appeared as a young woman, Ellie of all people. Shimmering with light and beyond ethereal. This was certainly -not- Ellie, it just took her form for... her comfort? Freda did not know.

She heaved out a sigh from behind her helmet, lifting the faceguard to inspect the walls they were before.

My Hider

pause music :) play this
youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detai..

"Once there was people here. You see that now, with your own echoing-eyes. You will remember. You came here on my accord, so I may tend to your wounds here. I cannot act on your plain of existence, so call this your 'healing', my Lady." The spirit inclined her head with a small smile that was more creepy than anything else. It disappeared only to reappear at the opposing side of the wall.
"There was a King who lived here. An Elder, just before what happened here. The world was very young and he was building civilization as you see it -now-. So many years were lost when these people perished under their own timeless waste." The spirit landed right beside the warrior, motioning out to the wall.

"You will prevent all that, Risley. I will be your guide and guardian through this dark time. I cannot allow this to happen once more. Go to your people and you will see. Rally all you can and... bring me this girl. She will be my key. The Cultists are already clawing at her mind, that and her friend too - I felt it in my power discharge. They are slowly becoming their Thralls. If you ever need me, dream for me, Freda. I will take you into my arms. Now explore, learn. Find. You now come as you please" She smiles once again, then closed her eyes and disappeared once again - the apparition just vanished before her eyes, the energy simply evaporated.

What was she to do, she wondered. Then wondered if the spirit could read her mind, which made her growl. "How can I trust this..." Freda whispered to herself."... It's all so convenient. Yet, it did save me." The warrior sheathed her sword and wandered through the city once again. The place was empty, abandoned, everything had caved in on itself but the foundations still stood. Even standing remarkably well. She was right about how they built things to last, even the street layout was completely alien to her; the signs still stood and the roads were in perfect condition. Yet, she couldn't read whatever the hell was on the sign, so she just took the path upwards to see what she could 'find', as the spectral Ellie said. Almost as pushy as the other girl, she thought. Makes me carry her everywhere. A shallow laugh filled her mouth which she let out quietly.
There was a long walk down a corridor of houses and dilapidated shops but sooner or later she hit some large set of stairs that lead up into a dense, dense fog. This put her on edge, but there was no way to go back now. The sword exited her scabbard and the woman took the stairs up as slowly as she could. Thankfully, these people built big. The stairs were very, very wide. Almost as if to save space. Or that they had an immense excess for whatever this building was. It reminded her of the Cathedral of Saint Dar almost. Strange.

It took her nearly ten minutes of straight ascending to finally hit a flat surface. The fog was freezing to feel and she knew something would certainly be lurking within. It was Salvation, she prayed for. Freda marched forward only to be met by a set of large gates that opened straight for her - as if just by magic. This caused her to halt, half expecting some giant monstrosity to walk out and say hello. Luckily, this did not happen. Begrudgingly, Freda progressed on through the gateway. She made her way into the giant fortress of a place of worship, or perhaps this was just a governance building? A great Palace for a great King, huh. Freda smiled at that and took a few more steps inside before being great with a warrior. One not like the rest, as he had great wings made of corrupted black mess, his feet were that of a Drake's and hand's that of a reptiles. His face was covered in a black cloud that the shade's carried. He called out to his challenger. "You have come! Finally. A challenge. Defeat me and we speak. Lose and you die. Here and there." The creature hissed and threw his wings down, then back - he used this propel himself forward with a lighting fast speed, tearing straight through the air and towards the wood-be hero. She swung upwards with her sword to try and spike the creature but to no avail, she sliced against his armour and recoiled back, quickly getting out of the way of this monstrous beast.
The creature held a giant two-handed blade, larger than Freda herself. She concluded that parrying that was probably not going to work. She then just relied on him being slow, which he wasn't. The woman jerked backwards, getting out of range and awaited his first swing, which came quicker than she imagined. He slammed the sword down into the rock just inches away from her, though this gave her time the time to close the distance and slice at his hand. With some amazement in her eyes, she sliced through the ethereal hand and destroyed it entirely - she assumed this meant she "cut if off", somehow. There was no pain from it, it'd seem - it just disappeared. Alas, the large Draconid warrior sent a kick straight for the lumbering warrior and sent her flying. She scraped across the ground for quite awhile before she came to a slow halt, gravity helping quite the bit.

A coarse sigh came from her and as suddenly as adrenaline filled her, she fell to the ground and seemed to just lose all sense of being. She closed her eyes and opened them in a totally different world. Freda came back around with a desperate gasp for air and them down to the ground. Her eyes crossed with the sobbing Miriam's in utter confusion, which gave her a few seconds of clarity to collect herself. The warrior came to a stand, then a wobble and then just collapsed down onto her knees. "It was Freda, by the way. Given I know your name." She fell back onto her legs and took a pose that of an exhausted woman but she felt... invigorated, the spirit wasn't lying about this at least.
Miriam wasn't all too pleased to be in this state but still continued to weep for a good while only to slowly come back around, more when she saw the woman going to collapse, given she felt that was more important to assist than anything else. Yet, she wasn't needed it'd seem. She would smile for a second and nod, perhaps feeling safer?
"Dumb name, Southerner."

The Realm of Men

My Hider

youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detai.. (02:20-4:25)

"Good to know I make you laugh!" Freda would of laughed if her lungs didn't feel like they were on fire. It was a good feeling, or that was just the adrenaline speaking. She had already died three times in the past five minutes only to somehow escape it by a thread - she felt almost like a cat; completely insane as-well. Probably not far off a cat, she concluded.

Either way, something was guiding her - there was a wind at her back and she felt faster than ever. Or just the prospect of death whilst doing her duty was all she ever wanted. She charged the Troll who quickly answered, it stomped out in her way, slamming it's giant, webbed foot into the ground just before the Knight. It drowned out whatever Miriam's witty response was.
Water, mud and oddly enough blood followed - seems he smashed a small critter or something; just to add to the graviy of this beast. Either way, she swung her sword as hard as she could into the monsters ankles and actually struck home. The blade sliced deeper than it ever had. The creature roared out in something akin to anguish, quickly recoiling and causing even more damage to the forest and itself.
The Troll wasn't too pleased by being slashed in the ankle with a sharp, pointy and shiny twig - it recoiled backwards further and picked up one of the fallen trees that prodded at his behind.
The log came spinning at Freda whom had charged after in her success only to gag loudly and gasp it out after, the log swung over her head and flew right at Miriam. The Hunter squeaked and ducked, jumping onto the ground quickly which she felt in her chest but it wasn't as bad as the log that sailed over her head and smashed into a few opposing trees.
The logs cracked and smashed overhead, bending inwards and collapsing. It would of squished the little Hunter if not for the roll she performed. Managing to lose a few more arrows in her clumsy footing. It was of no consequence as she was just as dedicated as the Knight - if not more. She began to fell her true calling, or just having a log thrown at her was a terribly annoying thing to endure. "Take this, ugly!"
Miriam drew the string back to her cheek after notching the broad-head arrow on it and fired! It whizzed through the air to smack into the Troll's head once again, just beneath his eye-lid. The soft, under-covering was thin enough to be pierced and guided it straight into the monsters eye, ripping through tendons and muscle to leave the creature partly blinded. Each wound suffered seeped a black, void magic. It did not bleed blood and was as the rumours said, a creature of darkness. The Huntress chirped in delight, quickly running off as to not bring any ire her way - but oh did it come.

The creature bellowed out, kicking and screaming as it threw a massive and ugly tantrum. The ground heaved in turmoil underneath them as it began to buckle under the weight of the monsters anguish. It's defeat was drawing near and it was having none of it. It stomped, smashing and with one faithful blow - struck Freda square in the chest, this gave the Phoenix her wings and send her flying a short distance away only to have her journey halt as she hit a tree part-way, slamming into it with enough force to shatter bones.
She spluttered harshly, spewing out blood for a second before landing on her knees, unsure what was even keeping her alive at this point. Her body remained had buckled under the blow that surely should of killed. Her body felt almost broken yet, she stood up - the footing was sloppy, as if someone had just stepped into her skin and threw her aloft. Freda started to hyper ventilate as she felt the pain overwhelm her - the same pain as it was like waking up just seconds before her trip into the Outworlds. In that split second of a time, her eyes welled up in a veil of blood and she went numb, one final scream prevailed out her lungs before she went dark. Her blood stopped coursing and her heart went numb. It's beating the only thing she could here and then.

Nothing.

Freda was no longer Freda, or what she perceived as herself. Miriam watched from afar with astonishment or fear, she quickly knew was something wrong, she stupidly shouted out from her cover. "Hey, Knight! You... doing alright?!" The Troll had quickly forgotten about the pesky hunter and let the anger within drive him. It towering over this figure that began to swirl with magic. The blood veil over her face continued to drip, blanketing her clothes and face in blood as it left every orifice. This was the price of possession.
Whatever controlled Freda. Somehow. Somewhere. Knew full well it was not meant for this world and used its power only sparingly - there was dire consequences to follow, but whatever being controlled the fledgling warrior did not want to see her dead. Another worldly voice left the Knight's lips, echoing out in a long-forgotten language. "Azar. Azan. Fledo-aran. Hin, yo, nag-yar."
The words started to create an unending tempest of magic, a veil or spiral of magic to the heavens was created and before long silence fell. The magic stopped for but a moment to allow both the Human's listen to this celestial being speak through it's vessel.

"Your time has not come yet, young one's. There is much yet to do. Seek the Walkers. It is your only hope." The voice itself was that of a woman's, yet echoed with the depth to rival what a god should sound like.

And within seconds of the voice dissipating, a devastating display of foreign magic burst from Freda's body and rippled through the forest. An immense, immeasurable blinding light spewed out from the warrior and caused her to drop as the possession ended. The spell was already done. This wave of Light created a massive blast zone, decimating trees and outlying life in its majesty.

Miriam was swept off her feet for but a second yet did not seem at all affected from the light at all as she had quickly shut her eyes - much to her dismay; she wanted to watch more. She knew, however, it'd blind her if she kept looking.
The mighty Troll let out one final roar of anguish before it was drowned out by the destructive wave of magic. It quite literally dissipated into nothingness, the swirling mass in the ground zone of the magical explosion sent any dark, void magic back whence it came; purging it in some unknown force. A benevolent spirit had intervened in that instant and anyone with a small ounce of knowledge could know that it was not something any Human, even a Mage, could ever hope to accomplish.

The entire area around Freda's dead-zone was smashed trees, burnt foliage and black void residue that combusted now it had no-where to go; nothing to seethe.

My Hider

youtube.com/watch?feature=player_detai.. 40:53-42:55

The bleeding Phoenix gasped for life, coming back into her own body as her heart raced - her blood pumped again and a crippling weakness filled her. Freda's limbs gave way and she collapsed into the dirt. Blood ceased to flow from her face but she was already covered in it - what the spirit had done almost killed her but in turn saved their lives. The Troll was far too powerful for any one Human to dare slay. It's kind was only the beginning. The use of the magic still rippled through the land of the North. The wave carried on and on through the woodland, causing the same devastation it had before and was visible for miles in all directions. It bent the forest and left behind with it a purging Light that did not break the boundaries of the forest, eventually losing momentum a few miles from the borders. The residue left behind was just as the void-magic, yet it was like snow but still burned with no energy to feed off.

Either way, Miriam rushed over to the now collapsed Knight and quickly went to see if she was dead or not - to say she was confused was an understatement yet she didn't feel fear or worry for some reason and was more concerned with the Knight than anyone else.

"Uh, well, good job? You awake?" Miriam said, trying to get the unconscious Knight's attention. "Can't say that wasn't entertaining."

The Realm of Men

The damnable weather had grown unbearable. The creaking of the wood in the wind was driving Freda up the trees, not to mention having to carry these two everywhere - why was duty so harsh on her? She questioned all of these with water clinging to her clothing and beneath it, with a downpour still running down her. Which did not sit well with Freda. Her gambeson jacket had become a soggy piece of mess that weighed double what it did before and her shield had just been slung Miriam's way after nearly a day of arguing about it - an unnecessary weight, given she was forced to carry the half dead blonde girl everywhere.
She was not keen on holding it, for obvious reasons - it weighed more than she did, Freda guessed.
"We will rest when we can. Right now? We cannot. I have given you... occupation of pathfinder simply because it benefits us all." Freda complained.
Miriam was quick to jab back, the fire between them only grew hotter. "Well, I could just stop and then what would you do? Yeah. Figured." It hurt more knowing it was true.

She followed the Huntress into where she decided to camp without much a question and upon arrival chucked the half-dead Ellie next to a tree as delicately as one could with "throwing"; carrying her had started to get on her nerves - and the rain had snapped quite a few; it remained very visible in her demeanour. Ellie landed with a soft thud to down onto the wet foliage, which she soon draped in her very damp red cloak and whatever she could scramble together to keep her from dying of the chill that had set in from the freezing rain. Freda plopped herself down beside the Spirit Walker and peered at her. Thinking. Leia had joined them, as-well. This damn dog had started to grow on her, probably because they connected somehow - before long the wet dog forced its way into her lap and licked Ellie's hair calmly as she settled down for the night.

Moments passed in reflection before a thump and wet fire-wood was presented out before her. "Hey, does your God grant wishes like... you know, 'Dry my firewood, oh great and powerful deity!' 'cause, that'd be great. Probably, somehow could get this going. Ugh." Freda stared her down for a second and knew it'd shut her up. Which it did, knowing that any further argument would end badly for her - she liked to keep up the strong facade, even if she would never actually hit anyone unprovoked. It was amusing, though.
The resourceful hunter had a few tricks and with dedication bore fruit. She managed to catch a spark into some dry tinder she had been collecting along the way, as with some twigs she kept dry to try and get the fire going - it was more smoke than flame but it had enough fuel to keep going and the thick, huge canopy above provided ample protection. This girl had potential, she figured; if a muzzle was added.
Freda snorted at that, gaining the attention of the dog and the Hunter at the same time - both making around the same noise which made her laugh further, pulling the dogs head up to nuzzle against, muttering at the mutt. "Stupid dog."

Later...

The fire crackled and burned, illuminating a very small area in the woodlands. Ellie had begun to mutter once again, how this girl was alive still amazed Freda - though any attempt to converse with her was just void - it was either madness or silence. Miriam had taken to sleeping on the other side, bundled up in all those ridiculous clothes. Freda had taken the watch. She couldn't sleep anyway's. It had been nearly a full day or more now than her initial episode. Or whatever it was; she had no true idea or the gravity of it all. Why was she chosen? Was it some device of some other deity. Some darker one. The Flame would guide her - what had it not? It was the Phoenix's guiding light and reverence that she was still alive. Still kicking and now she had a straight shot duty in these two wayward souls.

Suddenly, a huge crack smashed through the forest as if something massive had just parted a tree from its roots. This awoke everyone, even the comatose Ellie with a scream. Leia barked and Miriam sprung to pick up her bow and readied it - drawing an arrow to knock into her bow and immediately looking to the sluggish warrior. Freda kicked the fire out and picked out her spear and shield, she had a faint idea what this creature was and how to react.
A forest Troll. The most elusive creature and perhaps the most deadly in the woodlands. Six metres tall and fuming. Some claim they were created out of powerful void magic long ago, likely why they were so angry and scarce. The massive bellowing that followed and cracking from splinters flying everywhere. In the darkness it even terrified the Phoenix. "Miriam, take Ellie and go. Be quiet and don't draw attention. If you reach the Fort and I do not, tell them I sent you; make sure they tend to the Walker - but do -not- tell them what she is. Keep the healers quiet." She squinted in the gloom, nodding. Miriam was antsy but she knew better than to argue at this time. Freda had her duty to uphold and took no arguments, moving out to face this colossal threat - she expected death, but who didn't when facing such darkness? In the darkness.

It was almost quaint.

The thudding grow stronger and stronger, the booming of the beasts nostrils and the smashing of the logs it found displeasing. It was said such creatures could eradicate an entire forest in a year and all its wildlife. A bear would be a worthy fight for the Knight but a Troll? Freda was questioning her ability every second. Before long she had thrown her shield aside, it was useless - it would require speed and two weapons to overcome this enemy. Somehow. She bore her broadsword and spear in both hands and advanced towards the creature, which slowly began to get closer and closer - it would of been on them long before they could run away. It sounded miles away a minute ago, no doubt having taken on the smell of flesh; stories spoke of the Troll's ravenous hungers, a tale to tell children that they will be devoured if they were bad. Now she felt even worse, recounting all these damn stories. A scream boiled up in her throat from the frustration which she bellowed forth.
Seconds past. Utter silence fell, the woman's roar had silenced the woods for but a second before it was returned, the Troll had already arrived; towering over the woman and filthy. He roared out, spewing spit and snot from its massive maw right back at the warrior. This sent a shiver down her spine.

This would be her last fight, she concluded. Freda was not about to make it an easy one.

The Realm of Men

"I dun think you have what it takes, woman. If I can even call you that." Light beckoned over the horizon. Fires began to spark up in the direction of Lowburg, only now did they realise the full extent of the attack. Freda felt more alone than ever tending to these two comatose women and a dog. The damn dog.

"Yeah. Me and Jack 'ere think we don't need you. These... pretty ones should jus' stick with us. We'll treat 'em nice and propa'. " One of the filthy Ralyian's spoke up.

"Aye! We got 'em. So pike off, fat arse." Jack wafted his hand, tapping the pommel of his sword. "Don't make us use 'em, eh?" Like most stupid men, confidence over-came skill.

This was the last threat she would suffer. She reached for the hilt of her own weapon, already having prepared her cavalier's heater shield - which was strapped to her off-arm. "Back. Off." The initial hostile reaction was paid and before long the two men began to back off with drawn swords, though the prospect of these two women in their 'care' was more than an enticing fight for them. Thus, another needless battle begun. Freda threw up her shield to take the first blow yet the other sword that was swung at her hit her right thigh. Hard. It tore into flesh to create a nasty gash that was only amplified on her recoil; her gambeson skirt saved her the leg, at least. In that second she felt defeat coming.

Before long, she had unleashed her broadsword and lunged at her opponents. Yet, being outnumbered meant staying manoeuvrable and she had already lost that. A swing came from both sides again, yet she was more than prepared for it this time. She ducked, clashing with one sword on the down swing and then letting the other swing over her shield, slashing through the hard wood and grinding over the hard metal of his friends blade. She sprung up swiftly, throwing her shield out in a one-two combination. Her shield slammed into the man's face without any warning, breaking his jaw and sealed his fate.
Her sword dripped with crimson blood as it pierced the Ralyian's torso, tearing through him in a fatal second. She knew revenge would come. Jack the Scout roared out in anguish, yet Leia chose her side. She lunged at the man, grabbing at his ankle as he strayed too close to the unconscious North-woman. The dog was met with a firm kick but it was a swift enough distraction for the wounded Phoenix to limp forward and swing her blade with all her force behind it. Blood splattered the dog and both the women, a guttural, blood-curling gargle followed as the fiery warrior finished. She followed the line of blood-soaked metal to the man's punctured head - her blade sank through inches of skull and brain. Jack the Scout flopped to the ground moments after, he had died instantly. The other Raylian still grasped to life, the blow he received was fatal but death would meet him in hours, not seconds.

Leia barked quietly as her aggression subtly faded. She shook her ragged and now bloody fur before starting to lick her master's face, attempting to'clean' it off. Freda lowered herself down to a knee, dropping her shield down to the ground to inspect the gash on her leg. A low whimper followed at the pain welling up in her limb. The sound of the dying man's crying grew to sicken her. She was never fond of killing but it was not her choice. The crunch of bone and flesh followed as her blade rend into the man's back, right through his heart. A clean kill if one ever existed...

Freda doffed her weaponry after tearing her blade from the Raylian's back and sat in the middle of the sleeping, half alive women, knowing she needed to deal with the corpses but her wound took precedence.

Later, Early Morning...

A basic fire for basic men, she concluded. The bleeding had stopped, thankfully, but her howling was joined by wolves from the cauterizing. She just prayed it didn't draw any unwanted attention, these two were not very mobile after all. The Ralyian's were blackened now, but she was not happy until ashes were produced; even scum like these deserved to have themselves reborn anew one day - she just hoped it was as a slug. There was little time for such thoughts and a lot of ground had to be covered. Especially with two girls that refused to wake up. And the damn dog.

She trotted her way calmly with a heavy limp over to the blonde one, looking to cuff her chin to raise up her head and hopefully see a spark of life; perhaps fire would help?
"Fair woman. Are you awake? I need assistance here. We will all perish if you -do- not awaken. Come back to the world of the living, the Holy Flame beckons thee." She squinted her face, the response she received was a weak hand on her wrist - a very weak sign of life and a gasp of air that almost sounded as a plea for something. Swiftly, Freda produced a skin of water for her to sip on, helping it down with tilting her head backwards - hopefully to bring back life that she saw. The blonde haired woman finally started to actually seem alive, yet remained in immense agony. Touching her felt odd, Freda thought. Sooner or later the flaring in Freda's back was enough to just let go and wince, having flared up from touching the void spirited girl. She took the skin and wandered over to the rugged traveller to do the same, repeating the same words to get a similar response. Avoiding the protective dog was difficult, but a piece of meat distracted him long enough.
"W-.. What?" Was all she received before the same feeling rippled through her at the slightest touch, yet she endured to at least keep them hydrated - giving her the other half of the skin to consume. A kind smile followed, happy to actually see them coming back to life. The Knight stood up to collect her equipment with a momentary sigh. Morning beckoned over the horizon to reveal an immense battle being fought out in the distance. Thousands of troops clambered up ladders or rammed at the gate where hundreds fell; fires burned and death took its toll. The sight filled her with dread and worry, could she arrive in time to save the town? She assumed not at the state of the battle. Would the King perish? There was more questions than answers that only the Flame could truly know.

Later...

"No. There is little time for introductions or thanks. We move. Lean on me and we will make it. If you must rest, say so." Freda spoke to Miriam first, she was at least the most coherent at this point though it was obvious that if nothing was done for the withered two they would surely perish. "My Order has healers. One to heal those afflicted with the power of foul sorcery. We are two days away." She nods, looping her arm around her shoulder to haul her up - which was met with a heavy cry of agony then a loud bark and growl from the protective mutt. "Shush, dog."

"H-Hey. Don't you bad-mouth Leia." Freda already knew this duo would be more trouble than they were worth. How vows ruined her. She turned into the silent guardian again and sought to scoop up the other woman, yet she was far more gone than the others yet wide awake - almost if she had entered a trance of sorts, perhaps she experienced what she had? Was it sorcery? No matter, she picked her up and threw the blonde girl over a shoulder, the weight of the withered woman was inconsequential.
"Fort Royal? Isn't that place full of Undead?" Miriam inquired. "Well, not anymore. I guess." She lowered her head, having taken the least amount of the wounds amongst the trio. She could walk with a lot of aid. Even eat, which Freda forced on the ailing woman.
"It was empty when we arrived. There was one survivor amongst the fallen whom we saved upon arrival. What undead -were- there had moved on long ago. Yet, I feel they did not go far. Look." She pointed out at the huge, black cloud piercing the landscape just below the cloud layer and above the Black Marsh. "The Undead under enthralment from magic cannot survive in the Sunlight for long. Their masters create a thick, black fog that blots out all life and sunlight to keep them from withering. It is the work of the Death's Hand. Necromancers of Old that had originated from the Black Marsh in times long forgotten. My Order's founder, Grand Marshal Cedric slew their black leader and brought an ushering to the first Era. Or so it is in my land. And most of the south." Freda prayed that conversation could distract the woman from her ailments, or make the journey through the huge woods less painful.

"Uhuh." Miriam nodded, munching down on some dried venison with a ravenous appetite. It seemed to be doing her some good, but it was clear the girl was still suffering from unseen wounds.

"Sounds fun." She would of shrugged if her muscles worked like she remembered, but all her strength had been sapped. Leia barked happily, jumping up around Miriam - he was still ecstatic to see her awake, much to Freda's dismay.

"Your dog is... unique. It defended you even in the darkest hour. Such loyalty from a low creature. Not... to make offense, I simply did not expect it. She has my respect." Freda nods, not that Miriam noticed, she was too busy staring at the ground and dragging her feet.

It was going to be a long, arduous and dangerous journey.

The Realm of Men

The immense, shimmering expanse of the city was beyond her comprehension. It was entirely under this tree, or mountain. It was so unclear that she felt dizzy just looking down. Not that heights were very appealing to begin with. Her voice carried off into the distance but garnered no real response from anything Humanoid. The creatures near her were enthralled by something. Something entirely sinister, she could conclude. There was naught for her to do other than to look for a way down - it was so real that the thought of jumping was too much and caused a lump in her throat to form at the mere consideration. A small walk is all it took to reach the edge, carved into the rock was a staircase that lead down into the city. Yet, if it wasn't eerie enough the cavernous walls were lined with hundreds if not thousands of small cages, bars lining each and every inch of it - being cut off by the edge of rock that separated each cage. Freda couldn't see anyone within the cages as she passed, the steps were narrow and hard to land a footfall on so she had her attention elsewhere but the mere thought of being grabbed by something inside made the lump even bigger, each swallow felt harsher and harsher.
Sooner or later, the inevitable happened and the Knight reached the bottom of the long stairway that had spiralled up nearly a mile through the rock and down to what she thought was the bottom. Yet... her way was barred. A gigantic metal gate - lined with the same bars stood in her way and only shadow was on the other side. This was when the same voice that had greeted her here appeared before her, the shimmering expanse of what looked like her long deceased mother - yet it was too spectral and other-worldly to ever make that clear assumption reality. The voice spoke to her, landing a few inches from her.
"You have reached your limit this era. Dost thee feel the energy? The lines between worlds is breaking. Outworlds and worlds will soon align and a thousand years of chaos will ensue. Stop it! Find a Jonius, and swiftly!" The voice screamed at the top of its lungs, ripping through Freda's body as she joined the chorus, her energy and body quite literally ripping apart in that instant before forming into a rune on the floor, perhaps to mark her progress? On the other hand, she could see it all as she slowly drifted away from it all, flying through the rock, the trees, the water and the wind before something slapped her very hard in the face, almost breaking her jaw if she could remember and within seconds she was back within her real body, in the light forest and on the floor, bleeding from every inch of her face yet she felt no real pain.

A few moments after awakening she felt a cold chill wash over her visage and a very concerned Henry shaking her, saying swiftly. "Freda! Freda! Wake up, please. There's something going on! We have to hurry." He stood up just as swiftly, running to grab and then offer out her weapons which sluggishly reached out for, gradually bringing her unarmoured self up to bear. It was an odd feeling, given she went to sleep fully armoured and now she was in her gambeson clothing. Yet, given the boys frantic behaviour and sudden worry she gathered it was egregious. She strapped her sword to her hip, grabbing the spear and shield and brought these to each hand. Now following the boy out the forest to immediately gaze upon the display of the foulest magic in plain sight. The pitch darkness was little to her eyes that had adjusted in the dream which had somehow become a reality, any wound suffered within assuredly was felt in the Realms of Men all too readily.
The warrior hissed in disgust, dismissing the boy with a fretful wave of her arm. "Take the horses, my armour and everything we have -back- to the fort! Get them ready to march. I have written report of the entire affair, present that and do not ever speak. I will remain here." Henry was not too pleased by the way he was spoken too but knew better than to argue at this time and quickly ran back to the campsight to start packing up and readied to leave without her. She just prayed that he could be trusted. Her real test of valour was to come.

"Ad-van-ho-dar! Assail the flame! Hein-rich-en-for! " She started to chant out in a very old tongue, one that would surely garner the attention of the shadow-mancer and hopefully draw fear into the hearts of the foul creature. The Undead caster held up his incantation and a portion of his power to siphon the essence form the two girls on the ground before him, remaining overly confident as he stretched out with open arms, almost as if he wanted to embrace the warrior of flame coming to greet him so brazenly. "Ah! It has been so long since I have heard the voice of such beauty! Come, child. Join us. I will make your passing almost beautiful." He would of shed a tear if he could, pouring empathy he never knew he had into the speech, yet within moments it devolved and sinister laughter replaced it. He unleashed hell incarnate from his finger tips!
Freda's defence was to throw her shield over her shoulder and onto her back to begin with at the sight of the cast. This then called for her to spin her entirely metal, short ranseur spear around at an immense velocity, creating a whipping sound as she spun it in front of her person with both her hands. The lance of emptiness and shadow slammed into the spear, being ripped to shreds in a few seconds by the nullifying propriety of the metals coating. The man jerked back, aghast, yet did not give in. Not at all. His entire body rippled in shadow-energy, and the Void incarnate he became! The essence from the girls on the ground empowering him further, though he knew better than to simply kill them off yet, there was more power to life than their was to death. On the other hand, Freda took this time to advance, taking up a zigzag run to avoid any further bolts of evil and dashed through the moors to close the distance. In the time it took to reach that distance the man had already began to draw vicious tendrils from the ground, each of which whipped and lashed at the woman charging him. The caster was ancient in his ability, something the warrior of flame had never witnessed. Her defence was nominal, in any regard - trained to fight magic in all forms, she slashed at the tendrils in her advance yet it was impossible to remain unscathed. Each lash felt as if her soul was being rend from within, tearing at the fibres of her being. Yet as each tendril fell the caster staggered, he could only control so much at one time and arrogance had formed over the decades of no challenge.

The magical nullifying spear was her only weapon to boast here, and it did its duty well. Within a few agonizing moments every tendril had been dispelled and the man clambered on his knees, laughing manically as defeat grew ever nearer. Unable to give up his prizes, his delicious soul-snacks. Alas, he knew deep in his black heart that this could very well be his end if he played it poorly. "I-... am bested! My, my. It has been many a year. But! I must be going. Keep them warm for me! I will collect them shortly" Freda growled in fury, throwing her spear into the air only to catch it in a over-arm position and then threw it like a javelin from where she stood, unleashing out a loud cry as she did so. She fell to her knees afterwards from the sheer force she pushed into it. Yet, the being of the Void had little intention to remain here and released the two girls from its grasp, expelling what remained of their energy back into them and then just collapsed into his robes, black goo streaming out from them where the spear pierced the robe a few moments after the fact, setting the goo and robes ablaze in a white-flame, burning immensely hot for a few seconds before dying off - leaving but ash in its wake.
In these tantalizing few seconds Freda threw up her guts as agony swelled in her body, the wounds she suffered were spectral that only one skilled in the arts of soul-cleansing could possibly ever rectify. Her attention drifted to the two women lain broken and bloodied in the mud. Were pity formed a desire to assist began. She sprung to action and grabbed her spear first, slinging this over her back aswell before kneeling to the one closest to where the pile of ash had formed, giving her a firm shake to see if consciousness till prevailed. "Hello! Madame! Speak to me. It is safe, I promise you this. We must make haste elsewhere."

"Are you awake!?" Freda gave her shoulder another firm nudge. Blood still soaked the warriors face, almost looking like a grizzly war-paint, if it was not obvious that she had bled from every orifice on her visage.

The Realm of Men

Freda leaned in against the wall, staring up at the dark sky of night. The vast ocean stretched on for miles, beyond imagination. Though... Freda's imagination drifted as did her sleep. Probably the boy forcing himself against her legs was enough to want to drift off into an otherworldly presence. Yet... as the last pinch of sunlight shone over the valley the armoured warrior gave in to sleep, resting her plated hand on the boy's head so he didn't get any ideas and drifted off...
Where Freda woke up, or what she perceived to be true existence, was not what it truly seemed; something was wrong. She stood in an ethereal palace, shining lights shone all around her and all of her arms, armour and wit were with her - it was... almost real. A voice broke the silence, one of an everlasting beauty to it. As ethereal as she was... "Champion... you are. Warrior of Faith. Your heart is true thus I bring you to my home. Seek what is righteous." The voice turned dark, warped and overall creepy... "Or return will never be an option! Aargh!" The room exploded in red and black, absorbing into the woman with a scream. Within seconds the blistering, damning pain was gone and all that was remained was the new world around her. Strange as it seemed, all of it was real. One swing through the air with her sword that was mysteriously drawn was enough. She felt the swing, the weight, the force. Everything... but something was wrong. She was... glowing black. Permeating the same darkness that some... mysterious figure bestowed upon her.
The only way to go was forward and into the ruins before her. Mapped out in all directions was a vast, vast beach and gargantuan trees - yet these stood in the distance and she was one of these so-called massive trees. The trees themselves breathed life, even she could feel it - this... was like nothing else she had seen, but it was real. She was sure of it. What of her real body? The questions piled up and she sought answers herself; pressing on into the abyss with a cry of her armour rattling.

Once she had descended down into the darkness a presence loomed on behind her, something just as dark as she was. A child's voice rippled out through the darkness, descending down the roots of the giant, massive, hollow tree? "Invader! Invader..!" The call echoed through the tree, which the tree seemed to recognize. There was no reaction before the tree itself started to shift and ripple, releasing freakish creatures from its bark - stick-like monstrosities made of bark and wood. Concluding her sword would just blunt, the Knight raced down the steps - running frantically, panting loudly in her descent. Reaching the end she saw creatures. Undead. They stalked the beach, prowling. Many were clad in primal clothing, furs and sea-shells - yet some bore noble-man's clothing like nothing ever seen before. Spiked armour of black with strange devices. Banners littered the beach all baring the same banners and what appeared to be a gigantic insect was feasting in the far, far distance - it was pretty hard to miss, after all.. Some even having sea-creature trophies. Were these the natives? Perhaps they were alive, she pondered. The assumption was squashed as they charged, letting out a disembodied roar as they charged. Now did she realise this was not real, her voice was disembodied. But all her actions were as if she was there. Perhaps this was not her body? Even when fighting she -tried- to figure this out.

Freda raised her sword for the first time in quite awhile and engaged them back, swinging her broadsword in an arc to cleave through one undead and then rammed into the other, swinging as it recoiled. They were easy enough to dispatch but swarms started to rise from the sands, the water rippling to reveal even-more. A creature grabbed at her arm! It tugged and writhed, absorbing the energy that coveted around her body. A weakness crept into her before the back-swing with her gauntlet was enough to smash its water-logged skull.
"What is this!?" Freda cried out, utterly surrounded in all directions. No-one answered her but she saw an opening... a way down. Freedom? She charged, using the weight of her armour and body to propel her through the Undead, smashing past them at the loss of almost all her energy and the dwindling energy that dwindled with every ounce of energy spent. The Knight tumbled, slamming into a rock construct under the sand and then down into wherever it opened. Freda screamed in her descent, falling deep into the earth before being dropped out onto a large plaza, landing with a harsh thud that surely should of killed her but... it was just as if she landed a step or two. What strength kept her here fed on the dark, she felt stronger - just as she did when she took the Undead's life. It is... as if she absorbed it?
"What is this foul magic!? Speak to me!" The frustrated and truly confused Knight spun her weapon around before her eyes went wide, she stood on a mountain of bones and pale, lifeless corpses on their knees, bowing endlessly. Enthralled, by a look. Freda closed her eyes, panting. She made her way over to the Undead only to be attacked, as she suspected. One good boot through the back was enough to send him tumbling down into the darkness, yet it hit hard rock very early. As if there was a small drop. Her eyes drifted out and adjusted.

"This... is a City? Bu-... What?"

The Realm of Men

My Hider

mood music, ONLY AT THE HOT GATES
youtube.com/watch?v=rLADobVaA9s

"Are you crazy!?" The accent was still too much. She felt like laughing it was nearly unbearable. "Who is this mad-woman? Who gave her a maillie-coat, too?" Freda's blank stare seemed to quell the man's anger, or that it went silent in the command tent. It was already past dark and Lowburg stood in the distance, the large palisade untouched and the carrion fields between were horrifying. This so-called leader of men clearly was more green than a meadow.
"I will say again, it is paramount you -speak- to this King. He is renowned to be fair in judgement and will -help-. I am telling you there is no way back. You must escape further and -help-. Death's Hand has risen again." The name itself sent shivers down her spine, Henry Kenneth was equally mortified but the wine he was given and empty stomach from all his vomiting had kept him quiet; a looming shadow behind her. Freda found it almost cute. Almost. That aside, mentioning the dreaded cult's name caused the officers to glance between each-other, a silent message going between them that was more eerie than reassuring. But she knew what response she was going to get.
"-I- will say again, 'Princess' Freda of Midway, I will not recall or aid you. I will remind you of the decade long conflict -your- father started with Queen Anne! Enough of this. You are not welcome in my camp nor are any of this false information. Your Order's word means nothing to me, nor does yours. Be-gone." The flatulent General twirled his fat sleeves and dismissed her like some common peasant. Her father would of cut off his hand in that instant but cooler heads prevailed here, so she simply bowed her head to the man-with-the-rolling-twang-accent and departed. She'd of cursed him to the flame if it was even worth the curse. Which it wasn't.

Freda grabbed Henry by the collar and dragged him out, not in the mood for it nor did he really mind, just going along pleasant whilst looking up at her starry eyed, asking the sweetest question he had been able to muster since Midway; "So... when are we making love? Now or lat-..." Freda's shoved him to the floor and into the sooty mud, not that he minded, just shouting back.
"Tonight, then! I'll keep you warm, Princess! Promise! I'll name our boy Leofric for the King!"Unable to contain her sigh of disappointment or the ringing of laughter echoing through the dreary and almost dead camp. Silence had fallen a few moments after as any semblance of fun or meaning had departed the place, departing would be all well and good but from the sight of the field-of-death before the gates she'd most likely be shot down before arriving a few feet from the first line of defences. Concluding it was not the best idea but it was the only idea present. Her missive was urgent and by chance she prayed all she had heard of this King was true because now was the time to test that theory.

At the hot gates...

It was a hard journey through the trenches and caltrops and leaving behind the horses was a huge risk, but there was little choice. She could faintly see through the gloom of the night Henry running with the horses to the Silent Woods, it was the best place for them and she most assuredly did not want him anywhere near anyone of importance. With a deep breath she held up the white banner on her spear, not that it was very visible in the dark but she just trusted in -not- being shot at, her white and red surcoat offering at least some distinction from a Ralyian foot-soldier, not that most foot-soldiers had the quality of garb she had.

Before long the gate-keeper shouted in a rough boom. "Halt right there, scum! Stare your business or be destroyed!" The words shot anxiety into her for whatever reason, watching life spring back into the garrison. On the other hand, given how many corpses littered the floors from here to the gate were more than enough to attribute to the affect.
"I am Freda Risley, of House Risley - Lords and Ladies of Midway and the Eastern Realm of the Middle Kingdoms! I come bearing urgent and dire news that I will only deliver to your King, by decree of my father, Lord Protector Alfred the Third and the Master of the Order of the Phoenix! I implore you to let me inside!" It took more heart than she could of imagined to say all of what she did but it came out naturally, even if apprehension seized her soon after - probably expecting to be littered with arrows from the sniggering coming from above from the gruff garrison; even some arrows were notched. Another voice greeted her this time, much to her luck. The voice of a High-born, she guessed.
"I hear you, Lady Risley! Open the gates, dim-witted fools! This one is no enemy of ours! Arrows notched! If you are betraying us, Lady Risley, I will send your head back to your father with a nail stamped into your forehead!" Northerners, Freda deduced, were far more rough than she liked. Just to make sure she was not being followed she turned around and checked her progress, scanning over the area behind her with a quick twist of her head whilst she heard the gates crunch through the mud and gravel, pulling backwards enough to let one person through - this one person was Freda. She made a quick jog towards the entrance with an immeasurable desire to get inside before any of these dead men decided to get up and start walking again.

One glance at Lowburg was enough to make her frown, going as far to doff her helmet and set it under her arm, leaving on the coif and hood of gambeson as she expected to put it back on again. Many of the men within stared the armoured woman down, the entire garrison roused at the sight of an entirely plated-warrior with breast-cuffs on the breastplate. Freda, once again, concluded it to different cultures and awaited to be addressed - not that anyone came in a hurry.

Not a soul said a word to anyone. It was silence and pointed pikes or drawn swords, these men were on edge. Even the gate nearly trapped her flowing cape behind her and that was only to her knees!

"Lady Risley. Dashing as ever, I see. The legends of Eastern women was not wrong. You arrive and an in-opportune time but I will take you to the King. He resides at the Keep in the far back. I will have to disarm you at the Keep, but for now it would just be rude. Pardon me from before - we're all on edge here. We've had some disturbing news come up from the distant Forts." The voice was of a Knight, one she had seen before - one that had came to her court quite some time ago, not that she remembered his name nor when it was. Too long ago. She offered little words other than a respectful gesture of offering out her plated fingers from her heart in a slow motion forward and a high bow, bending her head and keeling her back slightly in a very formal gesture. It was enough.

The men around them parted ways and went back to their camps dotted all around the walls, the place was alight with life and none of it was civilian. The damaged and burnt buildings were met with a frown, being left to ponder all of this in silence. All the answers could likely be answered but she remained to herself, being lead through the town of Lowburg.

It was quite the sight and now she had become the main attraction...

The Realm of Men

"There is a time for action and a time for in-action. To recognize these qualities makes a true Knight. What you must temper is your anger, turn it into a weapon - or just have it trim your tongue somewhat. It may make my day better. Now again.[/i]" Freda twirled her spear around in her grasp, her boots crunching into the sand. It was the sunniest day she had ever seen in the North, though it was not warm it was at least pleasant. A sunny morning did greet them.

Fighting a swordsman with a spear was hardly a fair tournament especially with one so-skilled as Kenneth. She almost felt pity. He charged one last time, he was already covered in sand and partly wet from when the tide lashed up a lot further than it should have. Still! His vigour was outstanding, for one so small, he fought with the fury of the Phoenix itself at times but was too sloppy to be any use to anyone. He might survive with her, at least. Bait probably. Freda went right, then left, around and...

...Thud. Ken hit the ground once more, his sword long lost into the distance as she disarmed him, the point poking against his throat. This was no ordinary spear that she carried, it was made of what was called "An'drosa-acan." Or simply, anti-metal in the common tongue. Presented to her at Knighthood as to act as her trusted weapon of honour and justice. The metal itself was a non-ferrous, lacking the ability to rust as well as having a very strange warping affect too any magic at all - it was prized for this but it was never the sharpest material. However, it was strong, sturdy, trustworthy - Freda could depend on her spear and shield to get her through any battle. Or just vehement prayer before hand. On the other hand, Spears were her speciality and she enjoyed to flaunt it, especially one as arrogant as this boy - seems he had nothing to say, either, where Freda just grinned in place, tapping at his cheek with the ball-point at the opposing end of her spear, she never gloated but this was always routine; "Again, again. You waste my time and your own. Get up before you're washed away and get the horses ready, we're at least a two day ride out from Lowburg now. Whatever darkness ahead has passed, I have seen it in the flames." She nods her head, reminding herself of the vision. It was clouded and dark, but it sprung light soon after. It was nothing much but her dreams have always had... some truth to them. As if the future unravelled before her eyes. To others it'd be nonsense but she had grown fond of them - sleep was more comforting, amongst the vivid memories and those long past; she had never told anyone, only that some predictions have come true. Of course this has caused issues in the past, but few rarely question one of anointed blood. Those who matter at least.

Twenty minutes later...

Flowing wind struck her fiery red hair, only now did she notice how harsh the wind had become in such a short time - likely from the height she was at? Or was the beach just that much more pleasant. Up here it felt as if the North had really come, or was it just winter setting in? Perhaps it was nothing though given how Kenneth had ceased talking and huddled up on his mare it was probably the correct assumption. Urging her horse onwards and her hood up she kept up a slow trot forward. Something was uneasy, enough to want to grab onto a weapon for protection, which she did, readying her spear and shield whilst turning her horse around to face the threat - which was just the wind. The horizon was empty, even if a gigantic black mass stuck in the sky over where they had came from, a blight of darkness had seeped out from the Marsh and corrupted the land beyond it. As if...

"No." Was all she could utter, fear and fury filling her heart. She prayed immediately for her brothers and sisters in arms, knowing her mission was necessary more than ever. Even Kenneth knew, he saw it with wide eyes and asked with a shaky tone, his horse sharred the same demeanour; "I-Is it... really? But-... but they're all dead. R-Right? We killed them all."

"Not all of them, it appears." Freda concluded. "Our mission is more dire than ever. The sooner we march at this threat the better. They... seem to have stopped. Perhaps they will not progress much further? Shoring up lines for their invasion. This-..." Her voice broke, gasping. She closed her eyes and snarled, quickly lowering her cavalier's heater shield back down and put her spear into the stirrups on the convenient little hole that sat there.
Her immediate and very first action after this was to set her horse off into a brisk dash, she had to make time. Had to get there. Had to save them all...

Kenneth, shrieking in the background, followed on. Probably stopping to finish peeing, Freda concluded with a scoff.

The Realm of Men

"Because you are not my friend at all. You have met me once and presume too much, Sir." Freda declared in a very dismissive tone. He spoke again but she didn't listen this time, trotting ahead as far as she could whilst not abandoning her "charge". It was already bad enough to be in a deep marsh full of things wanting to kill you, now she was stuck with her squire. The boy was obnoxious, vile and resentful of her family. She had taken him on at her father's behest, ten or so years ago now. He had been insufferable ever since the start from being stupid, annoying or just flat out obnoxious.

"You are getting slower already. Those fat thighs are probably the cause - you're so much bigger now. What have you been eating?" He spoke in a slurred tone, he was drunk of course. He was always drunk after the first mug of mead he had, it never stopped. An endless stream even in this place! She hated it, the desire to boil over and pummel his head into her pommel grew immensely though one scan of the horizon calmed her, light was coming and they were nearly at the coast, it had been a long ride but she just kept galloping at one point, through the night - she was spooked in all fairness but the facade was easily kept with her drunkard companion. It was at least some company, even if he was an waste of space. A thought crept through her head and remained. What if she was the cause of it? If she had not trained him properly, which she agreed to in any honesty; he was hopeless. Could barely swing a sword, tie a lace, fix his armour - let alone wear it. A scrawny rat to the end, even though he ate like a horse. Quite literally like one. She wondered if giving him a nosebag would be more apt, a snort came out of her only to laugh suddenly, spurring her horse off. She was having more fun with her thoughts than anything else, probably having turned insane if she couldn't do that.

"What are you laughing at! Hey! Dammed, woman! I'll have your head!" The words grew ever distant at the wind, the thuds in the soft ground and the coast was in sight - the giant white cliffs on the western border of the North. Or Northlands; whatever they were called. Civilization died at this point, some said, which is debatable. It seemed to be a trivial question, really, but she had not been here before - rarely meeting people of any significance from at least these lands; no one ever left, they said. But now she was going to visit the very King of these lands with a plea of aid and pledge of service, the whole idea of switching banners that was not of her country men? How had it come to this. Why? What was her father doing. He never told her anything more, he had wanted her to join his Honour Guard, be his general - but there was no faith there. No belief, just mindless games and pleasures. War would come and it would be exactly what she wanted, an unwind? Even now, she debated it because it honestly sounded much better than what she was doing, reaching the end of this thin, overgrown road seemed to give her that answer.

She sighed once last time, a plume of smoke coming out her mouth.

Later...

"A craggy pool filled with crawfish? See them. They're wiggling around in the mud, awaiting tide. They're dinner. So, wet your hands and catch me several. I will do the same. Fail and I'll clout you hard. Please?" Reasoning with him was like trying to ram a cow through a tiny door. It'd never go through, but he would at least try - he was fond of tasks, she thought, he actually shut up when he was working. Perhaps that was his calling? To work with no tongue. That would be nigh perfect, she thought.

"As you say, woman. I am staved as it is." He spoke more for himself but he was noble enough to still be vaguely polite now and then. It was rare, but it was nice. Especially since she was far away, settling their horses by the shoreline. In their ride they had find a way down to the bottom, where it could offer more protection - the beaches were wider this time of year, as if the water had been drained away slowly, it was farer away than she remembered it at night. Strange. Freda settled the horses into a nook and prepared out some moss and dry driftwood to prepare a fire. It was still light out but it was quickly turning, overcastted and foggy it was not the most pleasant afternoon not in the slightest, but this far north she expected worse. This was mild to her expectations. Nothing came of the dark clouds, even if it was threatening to rain endlessly. She prayed to the Phoenix that it would not rain and he answered the woman, letting a heavy wind come in to blow the clouds away. Though this wind had been there already, so it was no miracle.

"Crawfish, then. All in this cup. Like you said, there was thousands. How'd you cook them?" The fire was roaring at this point, well hidden behind the rock cover but the smoke was unmask-able, yet dissipated in the darkness with no light to illuminate it.
"We boil them, Henry. Give me that cup and I will pour some water into it, then just set it over the fire. Unfortunate, they must be alive for that. It offers more flavour, the cooks say. Cruel, but they will have a clean death. Painful, but clean. Heat is the product of the Phoenix. Which you know." Henry bobbed his head, offering over the cup which Freda filled up and set over the flames, placing the metal cup just next to the burning logs - deeming it'll be good for now.

"How long, then? We just eat them as they are? Or, uh, the shells right? Think my mother had them cooked for us once. We had a grand chef at Cambridge. I hated your chef, always put too much salt on everything. I bet it was your doing, witch." Freda ignored him this time, going to just lay down by the flames and stare up into the stars, having grown used to the boys jabs so much so that ignorance became her default answer. He kept it up. But the night was too good to be mad at, the stars clear as day and no danger to be found here. Her prayer was her shield, the flames the promise.

She concluded faith was her shield and her the paragon of it...