At some unholy hour of the morning, the very first rays of light would begin to creep in. Its dim glow shines through the cracked window of a neglected and disorderly room, gradually illuminating it and its sole resident. A lone griffon at rest, still clad in chain and plate, whose sleep has been hopelessly troubled. And as that gray light fills the room, the old soldier would awake with a sudden flinch.
For a moment longer, he remained motionless. His eyelids heavy, his limbs feeling as though they’ve been anchored down, and that horrible, sickly feeling of dread returning to his stomach. Or perhaps it had never left. Covering his face with his two talons, he let a deep breath out. However, regardless of his own wellness, he knew he’d have to force himself up and out the door. After all, there was no better choice in the matter.
A moment longer, and this lone knight has risen. One talon, then another, all bearing the weight of a burden no griff should carry. That same weight a leader dreads. A look in that cracked mirror, and a bit of tidying up. After all, it’d be a sin to appear anything but his best in such circumstances. Only the best, he’d demanded of himself.
Next he’d taken his sword. He’d long since stopped sleeping with it at his side, ever since this whole mess had turned his world upside down. After all, what good was a blade behind a wall? What good would it do him when he’d never see it coming? What good was it when a wall of spears and axes stood well in the way? As far as he was concerned, it was no more than ceremonial to wield it. The real weapon was a tactical mind.
Finally, his morning prayers. Perhaps in vain, perhaps not. But always necessary, as far as he was concerned. Whether answered or not, they gave him strength. Believing that he and those under his care were not alone, that was something powerful. It was that strength that allowed him to hold fast, and it is with that strength that he will see everyone through. Everyone left, that is.
Taking the chains locking his door shut down-- More a method of early warning than anything else-- the knight cracks it open. And not a moment longer, he sees himself out into that cold and dark hallway.
“Commander? You’re up early...” A voice just beside the door pipes up. Another griffon, posture perfect yet his appearance worn out and ragged.
Without answering at first, the knight simply nods. Then, as though he hadn’t heard, he’d softly ask, “The update,Théo?”
“Of course sir,” The guard hesitantly responds, clearing his throat and slipping a piece of parchment from his belt, “Doctors say the last of our poisoning victims either passed or recovered over the night. seventeen dead, but are expected to make a full recovery within…”
For a moment, he hesitates. The young griff casts a glance to his superior, whom only solemnly nods in response, “... Within the month.”
“I see. And what of the night sentry’s defense?” The knight would ask, turning toward the soldier with this look in his eye, as though he already knows the answer.
It’s a moment before he gets his answer. The young one checks the note, then once more. In the end, his answer is a simple, “Nothing to report.”
“Excuse me?” This gives the knight a moment of pause. Day in and day out, the undead were relentless. Never feeling fear nor exhaustion, they’d thrown themselves at their barricades and gates. To hear such news after so long? He was surprised to say the least. His eyes narrowed, he casts a glance to this parchment, cautiously ordering, “Give that here. Don’t you still feel the necromatic energy? That suffocating feeling in the air? That can’t be right.”
“That’s all they told me, sir.” The guardsgriff says in turn, relinquishing the paper, “And I believe it. Not counting our poisoning victims, not a thing has happened last night. Food and water stores are low, but stable enough.”
Despite his pessimistic certainty, no matter how many times the knight would skim through, the intel remained the same. It was exactly as he had said: This was an apparent calm amidst the raging storm around them. Processing this, he almost wasn’t even sure how to respond to such news.
Letting out a previously stifled breath, the knight quietly rolls the parchment up. He returns it, staring the guardsman down with those weary yet resolute eyes, “The night guard. Did you notice anything off about them? Anything at all, Théo?”
“No sir.”
The knight’s expression only darkens. While he wasn’t sure what vampire would be so foolish as to be so blatant, that was his only answer for this. Of course, there had to be something wrong on the front. For all he knew, they had already infiltrated and taken some of their meagre population. His mind racing with possibilities-- None of them good-- he knew something would need to be done.
“Well now,” He calmly begins, sparing a brief look down the hall, “I suppose we’ll just have to have a look. Would you please accompany me Théo?”
The young griffon perked up a little at this, his eyes wide. It wasn’t often that he was asked to accompany his superior. Typically, nobody ever does so! Despite this coming as some surprise to the griff, he’d bowed slightly and responded, “Of course, sir.”
On their brisk march down the hall, the guardsgriff’s mind would wander. Now, this sort of thing didn’t happen often, that much was true. So clearly, this had to be happening for a reason. He soon speaks up as his curiosity gets the better of him, “Sir Heidrich? What is it we’re doing?”
“What is it we’re doing?” The knight would repeat, never breaking his pace as his gaze flashes toward the guard, “It’s simple. You’ve heard the news around the fort, have you not?” Swiftly rounding a corner, the two begin looping down a spiral staircase, “Around the Order’s land, even?”
Keeping up with ease, Théo hops down step by step with incredible balance. At the knight’s questioning, he’d idly glance from the corner of his eye, “Yes sir. But to be fair, there’s a lot of that going around. News, I mean.”
“That is true, I suppose…” The commander would mutter under his breath, so low you could barely hear, “Vampires, necromancers. Both uncommon, but no less dangerous. And far more capable of infiltration than you may realize, Théo.”
The guard would shift around the knight as they draw closer to the exit. Grasping for the handle, he pauses a moment and quirks a brow at Heidrich, “You think they’ve tampered with the reports? Out of all the things, why that? Not like news is hard to spread here.”
Heidrich pauses a moment, giving his bodyguard a pensive stare. Then, nodding, he’d simply respond, “Of course, that’s no concern of mine. No necromancer nor vampire would be so foolish as to attempt such a thing,” He reassures, “It would be too much of a waste. Rather, I believe there may be something else wrong. Something off…” Something much, much more dreadful, Sir Heidrich had thought. Something most definitely worse.
The guard furrows his brow, “Suppose that’s right, sir. It never hurts to be careful.”
With that, the guard twists the handle and cracks the door open for his superior. A frosty wind wispily blowing its way on in, and that dim light shining on through, the two step outside and march off through the snow.
The fort was a dreary place. That much had always been true, being so far north and smothered by snowstorm after snowstorm. But after this whole mess had begun, it had changed. It wasn’t just the border, nor was it the loneliness of the location anymore. It was the smell of rotten or burnt flesh. The crushed bones of griffon and pony alike littering its darker corners. And perhaps above all else, the knowledge its residents held and feeling of helplessness such a curse bears.
Today, however, something was different. There was silence. The usual thick smoke poured out from in front of the barracks, as usual. Ponies and griffons both with uniform and without filtered through the streets and alleys doing all manner of work. Yet, amidst it all, the sound of combat was oddly absent. Without that, the fort held an almost deafening quiet. The knight didn’t-- No, he couldn’t let it show. But it unnerved him.
That walk took, or perhaps simply felt longer than it should have. Regardless, the duo soon found themselves at the northern barricade. Their fallback point after a section of the wall had come crumbling down, they’ve held on that front thus far. And now, he was going to see just how much longer that would be.
As soon as they arrive on the scene, his eyes dart from knight to levy. One, and another, and another, yet he comes up with nothing. He’d like to think he has an eye for spotting those suspicious few in the crowd, but amongst the saluting or bowing garrison, he didn’t catch a thing.
“Hoi there, Commander!” A voice calls from the roof above, “I take it you’ve seen the reports?”
Peering just over the edge was a pegasus stallion, all covered in plate and barely recognizable from down there. But the knight knew. Without him, this entire front was as good as gone. There would be no recovery. And here he was, as sprightly as ever. The North was still secure.
“Of course! You claim ‘nothing happened’, Erastos? Surely not.” The knight calls back.
“Well, there was something in the sense that there’s nothing.” The stallion says, shooting a little look beyond the barrier before waving up with a wing, “What I mean is, today nothing’s our something. Just get up here, have a look!”
So, the knight and the guardsgriff did. Taking off, one after the other, they quickly find themselves atop the roof. Slowing to a halt, they’re greeted by the pegasus who soon kneels down by the ledge and points with a hoof, “Look, down there. Course, nothing there. I bet you were already hearing silence on the way. And beyond that…” He pans out down the street, to the breach…
Empty. The bodies and bones from the burnings were still present, all scattered across the ground and broken beyond any sort of repair or use. Destroyed or lost weapon amongst them, yet none of them stirred to wield them. Nothing beyond that, as far as the eye can see. Wide eyed and bewildered, the knight motionlessly stood there, watching that horizon.
“I checked the Southern Gate as well as the guard securing the rivers. If you look close you can still spot some of them off in the distance, but they’ve yet to move.” He explains to the speechless griffon, stepping away from the ledge with a slight limp.
“Course, we’re still falling to pieces here. But it’s a nice change of pace, don’t you think?” He quietly mutters to the guardsgriff, who only gives a stiff nod in response. The stallion’s gaze shifting to the knight as he flips that visor of his up, he’d softly add, “‘Ey, so you’re his door guard. Has Heidrich been feeling well?”
The guard, about to respond, is soon cut off as the knight quickly steps away. A renewed, determined look in his eyes, the knight orders, “I need to know who we have available. The gods have provided us with an opportunity, I’m certain of that.”
“Who we have available?” The stallion quirks a brow at Heidrich, offering up a little smile, “Who we have available, huh? Well, not enough for a counter-attack, that’s for sure.”
“Not a counter-attack. You see, this isn’t Tarpain Rock. This is not even The End,” The knight explains, motioning outward, “Look at us, Erastos. I know you understand already; We’re wasting away behind these crumbling walls, that of which barely separates us from them. We’ve been dishonored, poisoned and shamed by those unholy abominations. Faith and hope for better days keep us standing, as do the iron will of the garrison, but for how long?” He hesitates. And for a second, he falters. The knight, as tall as he stood, almost appeared smaller in that moment. Yet no less determined to see things through, he softly adds, “We’ll go no further alone.”
Erastos’ expression falls, that little smirk fading from his lips. Nodding once, he gives his solemn response, “By Arcturius, I know. I’ve known.”
“We’re… We’re getting help, then?” Théo warily chimes in.
“Yes. Of course…” The Knight says, returning to the ledge. He starts scanning the ground below, watching the sentries and soldiers, “I understand we cannot send our best-- Anything close would mean death for those within our walls. But we may send our fastest to deliver a message.”
“That would be best, aye?” The stallion says, joining the knight by the ledge as that young griff behind them simply watched on, “Who, then? Don’t suppose we could see to the levies or civilians, then? There’s bound to be at least one natural courier amongst them.”
The knight simply nods along, silently mulling over his options. Then, glancing back from the corner of his eye, he’d beckon his bodyguard over with a talon, “Théo, come this way.”
To which his guard dutifully responds, stepping forward.
“I trust in you, my friend,” Heidrich would start, just as the two griffon stood side by side, “You’re from the local village, are you not? You understand the land and its people well. That more than anything is what we need right now.”
Théo simply gave an anxious little nod in response. He was no soldier, that much was certain. And that much showed, even after the both levy and knight had proven themselves time and time again, he’d had doubts. What the knight had to be suggesting here? The young soldier held his breath.
“I… We do need help.” The Knight reluctantly says, “We’ve held here, do not mistake me. But what we need more than anything is somebody to let the land beyond the horde know that life still continues here. We need a team of volunteers assembled, prepared and led by night. Can you do that for us, Théo?”
Dread filled the young griff. To go out there was surely suicide. But were he to never try? What then? Though his heart was beating out of his chest, his mind racing and fear palpable, he was quick to answer. After all, he’d known his answer all along, hadn’t he? After all, why else would he be so anxious?
“Yes, sir.”
The knight let out a breath, one he hadn’t even realized he held. The older griffon nods once more, “Thank you. Erastos, would you kindly help him get equipped?” To which the officer responds affirmatively. Finally, turning completely toward the young guard, the knight’s eyes would gaze into his, “I know you can do this. I’m counting on you.”
It’s a stiff nod the guard gives the knight, that uncertainty plaguing him and only growing deep in his gut. But he’s committed nonetheless. Turning away once more, Heidrich lets out a deep exhale. And thus, he uttered his final command, “Théo. You are dismissed.”
“Of-- Of course…” The guardsgriff responds, respectfully bowing his head. And with that, he himself turns away and begins to depart. He walks off, rears back and--
“Oi, where’re you headed off to?” The stallion swiftly interrupts, hobbling his way over with surprising speed, “He told you, you aren’t doing this alone. I’m here to see you get sorted!”
The griffon, of course, stops. But he finds himself at a loss, merely stuttering an incoherent, confused little mumble. The pegasus, narrowing his eyes at the kid, pauses himself. Then, closing that gap, one of his wings would grasp the griffon’s shoulder. With a gentler tone, he whispers, “Théo, was it? I’m sure you need a second just as much as Heidrich does. So how about we head down, have a seat for a moment and think things through? I’ll help you plan it all out, and you’ll be as prepared as we can make you, aye?”
With his beak shut tight, the guard gives another stiff, almost shaky nod. The stallion, in turn, gives the griffon a hearty pat on the back and a confident smirk, “Right. Let’s be on our way then. Even though they can, the undead won’t wait forever.”
The day has been long, its hours even moreso. A lone fort amidst a frosty, dying pine forest sat there as the sun slowly set, casting that warm, orange light across the land, soon to leave nothing. And atop that fort’s southern walls were four figures, lightly armored and lightly armed. And at its front, the young griffon Théo, accompanied by Erastos. The other two simply wait and observe, as the stallion gives his parting words to the guardsgriff turned leader.
“Just remember what I said,” The veteran quietly says to Théo, “You’re strong like a knight of Arcturius. And so are your allies here. So long as you stick together, you’ll see this through.”
Limping back a bit, that pained smile of his on his lips, Erastos nods to the young griffon and his ‘squad’, “I suppose I should be off, now. I’m sorry we couldn’t give you a proper send-off, but this is the best we can do right about now. You understand, I’m sure.” Pausing a beat place, Erastos purses his lips and furrows his brow. Then, hesitantly, he’d respectfully bow his head, “Best of luck, all of you. May Arcturius be with you.”
As the officer departed, he couldn’t help but feel as though he and Heidrich had sent them to be executed. He couldn’t hide that quite as well as their commanding knight had. Poor, poor Théo couldn’t help but feel similarly as he watched the stallion hobble away and take to the skies.
“Was told no griff.” An irritated, heavily accented yet feminine voice chimes in, getting an anxiety-filled twitch of the eye from Theo. Twisting about, the young griff comes face to face with that blue pegasus sitting behind him, her eyes all narrowed.
“Wha-- He told you that?” The guardsgriff incredulously blurts.
“What’dya expect, creep?” The other figure, a thin and scraggly, vulture-like griffon caws out at the pegasus, throwing a talon out, “Hey, ‘ere’s an idea. Stop skulking around the forests, then maybe ya’ll know when half the town’s--”
“Shut up.” The mare harshly snaps, her wings beginning to flare up. Her narrowed eyes quickly shift to the younger griffon-- The fellow wondering if he should write a will while he’s still got the chance, “You, go. Begin.”
Théo just sits there and stares at the two, a blank look on his face. Go where, he’d first thought. Then how to begin, his mind corrected… Then the two started to look increasingly annoyed with his silence, so he panics and blurts, “So uh, Kyveli,” He’d say to the mare, then looking to his fellow griffon, “ and… Yoel?”
Yoel just seemed to scowl and fold his talons in response, and as grumpy as Kyveli looks, she doesn’t even budge. Hesitant under the gazes of those two, Théo would start, “So, uh you two still remember the plan? We go south, try to meet up with another keep down there and… uhm…”
The vulture’s scowl only grows, “Yes, I think we’ve got the idea already. Now, th’map? C’mon, I’ve got a family I left behind, and we’re wasting daylight here.”
“Of course…” Théo wearily mutters, slipping the item in question from a pocket and unraveling it for the group to see.
-=- # -=-
Théo felt like his heart was damn close to bursting from his chest. Beside him, Kyveli would simply gaze outward with that cold glare of hers, and Yoel stoop as low as he could. It happened so quickly, Théo’d barely had any time to react before a talon had thrown him into that pit beneath the frozen plant-life. Shakily gazing between his two allies as if to ask what had happened, he receives not even a motion or glance his way.
Then, it all becomes clear to the young griff when he hears that sound. The clanking of metal, that rattling of bones. Hoofsteps, and above all other sounds a gleeful voice, commanding and calling out to the groaning undead. Kyveli and Yoel share one look before the blue mare creeps up to an opening and cautiously peering out. Withdrawing about as fast as she’d stepped up, the mare flops back over and looks back over.
“Necromancer. Many, many more,” She’d say in a hushed tone, wincing a little as she looked back up, “And many undead.”
“W-What do we do?” Théo quietly asks, going unheard once more as the vulture begins stepping up to have a look himself.
“Well, obviously! But how--” Yoel starts. He never finished that thought, in the end, considering he’d thrown himself back about twice as fast as Kyveli had. Théo, confused and scared even moreso, opens his mouth to speak. To which the vulture responds with an anxious grimace, frantically waving and shaking his talons at him.
Quieted by Yoel’s harsh reaction, the young griff spares Kyveli a questioning look before coming to a decision: He must have a look himself. As much as he doesn’t want to, he’s confused, a little scared and wants at least some sort of context for what could be scaring--
Théo’d peeked out of the bush for but a moment. In that moment, he’d seen a horde of undead. A horde that-- In that moment-- felt like nothing short of a sea of bodies. The clacking and clattering of bone only grew louder and louder as the skeletons drew closer, but by then Théo wasn’t even watching. He was quite content to sit right where he was.
The trio all sat in a silence no pony nor griffon would be willing to break. That horrible sound became louder and louder, reaching at their hideaway’s very doorstep. Leaves and twigs snap around them while Theo and Yoel respectively grab for their mace and hammer. Kyveli tenses up as though to leap away at any moment.
All three go as still as statues as the foliage above them rustles and shakes. Their wide eyes gazing upward, they wait with dread and anticipation.
But no undead came. Nothing happened, no matter how long they waited. And by the gods above, the time they spend in that hole felt like it could rival the entirety of that siege they’d been stuck in. The sound eventually quiets down, and Kyveli works up the courage to look once more. The two griffons wait with bated breath as she creeps on up…
Finally, she’d let out a sigh of relief, “Echoun fýgei-- They ah…” Kyveli slides back down and sit back on her haunches. She motions outward with a wing, “They are gone. We are clear of danger.”
At this small yet good news, the two griffons relax. Wheezily exhaling, the vulture casts a curious glance to the opening, “Gods above, if I di’nt keep myself fit, my heart would’a gone just then. Which way they go, cre-- Kyveli?”
The mare narrows her eyes at Yoel, but makes no mention of that almost-insult. Truth be told, she just didn’t care to try and think of the words to respond to it. So instead, she focuses on the task at hoof, and motions behind herself with a nod, “They are that way.”
Théo’d quietly nodded, mulling something over. Or perhaps simply taking a moment to process what had just happened. His eyes suddenly widening, however, he comes to a sudden realization. Rising to his paws and talons, the young griff would have another look outside. His expression grim, he’d quickly turn his attention back and point outward, “That way? You’re sure?”
She nods once, “Naí.”
“But that’s--” He spins around, anxiously shuffling his paws, “-- That’s where Heidrich is! And the fort-- and there were so many of them, too! You don’t think they’re…”
“Endin’ the siege?” Yoel finishes for him, quirking a brow, “What else would they be doin’? Hadn’ exactly been handin’ out fruit baskets so far, have they?”
Kyveli solemnly nods in agreement. Yet Theo pauses a beat before scowling at the older griff. Maybe it was just the stress, but there was something about his attitude that struck a nerve. Though hushed, when he speaks his tone carries a sort of harshness to it, “You’re pretty calm, Yoel. Don’t you have a family over there?”
“Never said that, did I kid?” The vulture would coldly mutter back, placing down a talon
as if to jump up, “I said I left them. I wasn’t there for them, and they ain’t made it to the fort. So, got any more questions?”
The younger griffon simply freezes, beak wide. In that stunned silence, his heart would drop. Then, somberly, he backs away and nods, “I-I understand. My father never made it, either. He--”
“Oh, don’ go acting like that. They haven’t died.” Yoel interrupts with a scoff and a roll of his eyes. Getting up, he’d creep over and place his hand on Théo’s shoulder, “They’re alive, I’m sure. They’re out there. I just have to be there for them, for once in my life. Understand?”
Théo just nods looks away and mumbles a quiet, incoherent little response. Yoel simply snorts, takes that as an acceptable answer and steps back. Theo, crestfallen, only shoots the older griff a sideways glance. Yoel, meanwhile, has a look around their hidey-hole. He’d furrowed his brow and frown a little after having made a key discovery, however. One that, quite frankly, they should have made much sooner.
“Did you…” The older griff starts, turning back to Théo, “Did you see where the creep went? Could’a sworn she was--”
As though on queue, the sun’s dim light breaks its way into the hole, the two griffons jumping a little at the sudden ‘assault’. Kyveli, kind mare she is, ripped the covering straight off to better kneel down and grumpily stare down at the birds. The pegasus tilts her head the tiniest bit, “Done? Found path.”
Théo would scratch his head and look to Yoel, then with a reluctant nod he replies, “Yes, of course. We can’t be wasting too much time here.” With that, he’d clamber his way on out of the hole, at one point reaching out for some help up that never comes. The hermit had just trotted on, leaving the other two to catch up.
“Waste time? You’re the one getting all emotional and crap, Théo!” Yoel calls out, following shortly after with a powerful flap of his wings. Jogging along, he catches up to his two allies in no time. And this time under Kyveli’s lead, the group would find themselves creeping along the undergrowth once more.
-- # --
The trio had been marching along for some time now. The sun, as fleeting as it had been in these colder months, had already been preparing to vanish behind the horizon the moment they’d left the safety of their fort. Now, however, its gentle light was completely gone. With the moon’s light barely creeping its way through the clouds above, the group was practically blind.
Their pace slowing to a halt, the blue mare leading them would let out a quiet little sigh. Then, turning back, she’d frankly admit, “Can’t see. Will get us lost.” Giving the dark forest around them a quick scan, she’d reluctantly ask, “Time for rest?”
Yoel, as dark as it may have been, was no more deterred than he’d been before. Infact, as he’d lay a talon on Théo and Kyveli-- Only for a moment as she bats it away immediately-- he would confidently say, “No, ma’am. We’re far out, but I recognized a landmark on the way over. We’ve just about reached a village. We keep at it a bit longer, and we’ll be there.”
The blue mare contemplates this for a short second, then you can only assume that noise was her nodding as she quietly responds the affirmative. Théo, on the other hand, is more reluctant, chiming in to comment, “Village? But all the ones around us have been destroyed. What good would--”
He’s cut off by a rough pat on the back. Yoel quite politely responds with an irritated, “I got my home down there, and a few hidden rooms. Would ya rather sleep there, or in the dead forest? We’ll be more than happy to leave you here.”
“We are not leaving you.” Kyveli simply says, giving Théo a much gentler, more reluctant pat on the head, “But we need to move fast. This is one step closer, yes?”
Théo, as hesitant as he might’ve been, just nods along again, “Yeah, I guess so.”
“Alright, then. Let’s move,” Yoel calls out, having heard all he wanted to hear. Carefully tugging Théo along to guide him, he leads the group onward. And along the way, Théo began to let his mind wander.
Wasn’t he supposed to be the one leading them? Heidrich had said so himself, and look at the group now. All he’d done is get dragged around by two more competent griff-- folks. And considering they weren’t even done yet, who knows just how much of a liability he’d end up--
“Branch.”
Somebody would call out, snapping out of his stupor in an instant. It almost wasn’t even the only thing to ‘snap him out of it’, so to speak. But, thanks to some quick reflexes and a duck, Theo narrowly evades getting clobbered by it. A crack and a pained grunt up ahead, however, tells him that a certain somebody wasn’t able to catch it in time.
He wasn’t quite sure why, but the older griffon’s grumbling made him smile a little.
-- # --
Thanks to Yoel’s guidance, it was but a moment before they’d come to the outskirts of this village. Though no lights shined and no fires burned from inside anymore, in that large clearing they were still able to make out the silhouettes of little cabins and homes. Though you could barely see a thing in that dim moonlight, Yoel remained no less deterred by it. After all, he’d been through these streets hundreds of times. Day or night, he could navigate them with ease even if he weren’t a courier.
Yet as they creeped along the treeline, the old bird noticed something was off. His brow furrowed and that growing look of concern in his eyes, he’d silently mutter, “There were farms out this way. Whole fields of crops with mills and-- Gods, I should damn well know. The griffons and ponies out here, they’re my friends.”
Snorting and gritting his teeth, he’d shake his head, “Well, maybe I was wrong about where we were. Just maybe.” Sparing his allies an uneasy glance, he’d soon turn away and motion for them to follow, “Come on, we’ve gotta move closer. I need a better idea of the land.”
“You said you knew.” Kyveli chimes in, “Now you do not?”
“Quiet down, I do.” Yoel anxiously snaps out, quickening his pace. He’d keep his head low as he prowled closer and closer, looking back from the corner of his eye once, “Where we’re at we should’ve seen farmhouses and farmland by now. Maybe we went too far east--”
He’d stop in his tracks, coming to a sudden realization. That soft ground beneath their feet and hooves, that wasn’t soil. It was ash. His eyes wide, he’d quickly look around. Looking for anything that might have shown some sign of any sort of life. And then, as close as he is, he finally lays eyes upon it. The burnt, dead and long collapsed cottage that once stood there.
His voice low, raspy and weak, he quietly murmurs, “I-I know where we are, now. I guess I should’ve expected this, huh? I--” Trudging up to the old husk of a home, he would sorrowfully gaze down into the ashes, “There’s still stuff standing in the village. Maybe we can still hide there.”
The younger griffon beside Yoel would lean in with a frown, “I dunno, fires spread fast. It might be worse than we think in the village, with nothing but the weather to snuff it out.”
Letting out a tense sigh, the old griffon simply replies, “Yes, when we get there it’ll probably be burnt to hell. But something must’ve survived. A cellar, maybe. Let’s get moving.” He’d finally say, never bothering to check if the others are following as he turns and makes his way to the village.
It was clear what had happened here, Yoel was certain of that. But although none of the three spoke a word, they couldn’t help but feel as though something was wrong. That dreadful feeling in the air, no sound but the night’s gentle wind. As the three continued down the road, they couldn’t help but feel on edge.
Yet none of the three noticed one key thing: The shifting of ash and sliding of wood behind them. That sole figure, lumbering along just out of the trio’s sight as they march further and further into this dead town. As they move along, more and more would crawl from the dark corners of the forests and ruins to join them.
Finally entering this corpse of a village, Yoel finally finds his suspicions confirmed. All around, everywhere they look there’s signs of damage. At first it was the thin and weak frames of buildings, presumably set ablaze and left to burn. Then broken windows, busted in doors, and other forms of damage were present in just about every building they passed. Debris, damaged tools and weapons littered the ground, and signs of brief resistance showed in the sparse few bodies littering forgotten alleys.
The two griffs weren’t soldiers, as far as they were concerned. They were just peasants in armor and arms, here to do a job because nobody else was left. So as the two creep down these dark streets, watching their surroundings as best they can considering the circumstances, they can’t help but feel a sense of sadness. They’d both known this was the fate of any village in the Dread League’s path. But they hadn’t been outside the fort since the whole ordeal started. To actually see the results with their own eyes...
All the more reason they need to get the job done, they figure. Though audibly discomforted, Théo never breaks his watch over the group as he pipes up to break that eerie silence, “So uh, Yoel? You said we were going to your home?”
“Yeah, kid…” He’d hesitantly whisper, “If it’s still as safe as I hope.”
“Where’ll we go if it isn’t?” The young griff asks.
It’s another moment before Yoel really responds. That was a harder question to answer than he’d hoped it’d be, “I’ve got ideas,” He’d say, shooting Théo a sideways glance, “But they can wait until we know whether or not my home’s rubble. Got it?”
Théo simply nods in response. The two have nothing more to say until they come to a crossroads, where carts and wagons sit stacked full of crates and placed right in their path. One by one, the griffons and pony hop up, flap their wings and land soundly on the other side. Coming to a stop just at the the center, Yoel has a little look around.
“Think it’s this... way?” He’d trail off. The griffon had been orientating himself at first when his eyes briefly catch sign of movement from behind a cart. It’s then that the sound of rustling emerges from all four sides. The shifting and dragging of hooves and claws, the moaning and growls of undead.
They’d been surrounded.
All of them back to back, they wait for what feels like hours. Each drawing their own weapon of choice, eying the carts, they prepare themselves for what could just be their final fight. Then finally, one by one, zombies crawl and climb out from their hiding places. Both familiar and unfamiliar faces rise to the tops of the barricades and sit underneath small openings, their rotten visages staring on unblinkingly. Yet none made a move.
The messengers didn’t dare make a move of their own, either. With a quiet, almost sort of whimper, Théo squeaks out, “W-What do…”
Kyveli was unnerved, but no less prepared. Her eyes narrowed, she watches the crowd for that first twitch, that little sign. Barely breaking focus, she absentmindedly responds, “Will be okay. Just focus.”
The vulture scoffs, “We’ll be okay? What the hell makes you say that?”
The mare never answers. Theo, as scared stiff as he is, tries his damndest to think. He tells himself what Erastos had told him. The griff tells himself that it’s okay to be afraid, but he has to be strong. They have to, they’ve no other choice. The young messenger grips his mace harder.
“What are you lot supposed to be, scouts?” A voice calls from behind a barricade, arrogance thick in their tone. Their attention grabbed, all three quickly look its way just in time for a near-blinding flash of light to spark from atop. As it all clears, in its place is a smug, robe-clad unicorn stallion, laid down atop the cart’s highest point. Their smirk only grows as he lays eyes upon the three, “Because I really must say, you look rather ragtag. Is the Order really so desperate so as to send the lowest dregs to do their dirty work? Or were they too scared to risk something important?”
“Ain’t even on the frontline-- How much more important can you be?” Yoel blusters, “Too much a liability to stick anywhere but a backwater village, you are!”
The necromancer quirks a brow at this. Letting their head rest atop a hoof, they idly wave away the thought, “Of course, whatever you say. If it makes you feel more comfortable in death, don’t let me stop you. Considering your little ‘war band’ won’t be here to save you after our little interrogation, it’s the only comfort you have.”
Kyveli tilts her head a little, this odd look in her eyes, “War band?”
“Yes?” The necromancer casually responds, “I was under the impression that the carrion-eater was the special one of the bunch.”
The old griffon just looked that much more frustrated and uncertain. Meanwhile the mare just tilts her head down a little more, her wings ruffling and readying themselves. Stepping back, her voice tense, she whispers to the group, “Where south?”
“Left. It’s left.” Théo quickly whispers, looking to Yoel for the approval he gets in the form of a stiff nod, “You have a plan? Please, please tell me you do.”
The pegasus nods once, “Keep talking.”
“Now.” The officer would start, leaning a little more inward to better eye the group, “If you’re done gossiping amongst yourselves like school fillies, we ought to begin. Tell me, does the Order already know of me? Tell me, and perhaps one of you may be spared.”
“Wouldn’t you like... to…” The older griff tries to start. Yet as he catches that cold look in his enemy’s eyes and that subtle downward tilt of his head, Yoel quickly reconsiders and stammers out the first lie that comes to mind, “I-I mean, they uh. They know there’s undead here, but not where?”
“Are you lying, griffon?”
Next it’s Théo that chimes in, as nervous and sad sounding as he may be, “No sir, he’s telling the truth. I mean, how’d we walk into this if we already knew?”
“Though you make a serviceable point, perhaps you’ve forgotten just how it is we amass our armies?” The gaunt stallion sweetly asks. His expression quickly goes dark, his voice unflinchingly cold, “No. You’re lying.”
Surrounded by all these undead, the messenger’s sense of fear and dread only rise at his reaction. They’d been called out, yes. Their lies weren’t being bought for a second, and now all they could do is wait and hope. Their wide eyes follow their tormenter inch by inch as he rises to his hooves.
“Now, thralls,” The unicorn begins to announce, “I know what you’re doing, and I’m not impressed.” His gaze idly panning out across his personal army, “I’ve eyes and ears all over this village. If you honestly, honestly believed you could truly draw me out with such a meagre bait then you’re sorely mistaken. Your little ambush failed, sorry to say.”
And all three could breathe a sigh of relief and internally rejoice, knowing what they do. Though it seemed to be hopeless for a second there, they’ve still got time! Théo’s next to shout out again, his voice awkwardly cracking, “Y-You’ll uhm, never get away with this!”
At this, the stranger cackles and shakes his head. Perhaps the group might’ve been able to hear more out of him had he more time. But while the boisterous necromancer laughed on and on, Theo and Yoel feel a sudden, strong gust from beside them. In mere seconds, a small object goes careening off of the stranger’s head, sending him hurtling off the side of the barricade with a guttural, angry-cat like sound.
The two griffons were shocked to their cores-- That attack couldn’t have been any more abrupt. Quickly, they search around for the culprit, eyeing one another, then the sidelines, then the enraged and newly revitalized undead growling and clambering down toward them! Then...
Then they see Kyveli off to the left, the mare knelt down with her wings flared. Théo rushes up to her, frantically waving and cawing, “You madmare! Arhg, you complete madmare, this was your plan?!”
But the mare was already gone, leaping up with a mighty flap and bounding her way past the legions of undead. Kicking and bouncing her way past, she’s able to leap and soar past the barricade. With nothing between him and the dead, a horrified Théo’s left face to face with the rotten grin of a zombie.
“Don’t fight, just run!” Yoel yells out as he rushes to follow Kyveli. Théo’s quick to pursue, and the two soon leap into action. Using brute force where the mare had used finesse, they charge and weave their way through the crowd of bones and angry claws. They see that nimble figure quickly disappearing into the night, and strain in their rush to keep up.
“You’re leavin’ us!” Yoel cries out in his lead of the charge, “Come back-- Help!”
But she was already gone. Abandoned, yet not yet faltering, Théo bashes and muscles his way into a nearby alleyway. He’d wrestle dead stallions and griffons back right there, withstanding slash after blow, “T-This way, hurry!”
Distraught and angry, the old courier knew he still had no time to waste. Diving for the opening, he rushes out the other end of the alleyway. Following shortly after is Théo, too high on adrenaline to yet notice his new cuts and gashes. Rounding a corner, more and more ghastly figures begin pouring from out the open windows and doorways. Behind them, angered yelling and commanding echoes through the village.
“Maar take the harlot-- Come on, boy! I’ll get us somewhere safe!” Yoel calls out, taking lead once more. And by god, the two ran. They ran down the roads, through gardens, taking any shortcut they could find and never once taking a look back. They flew low and dodged the airborne dead, and together they’d simply crushed what they couldn’t slip past.
Then they see it! They’d long since figured it stood, but there it was at that moment: An old, boarded up home just like any other, yet immensely familiar to one soul. Pointing ahead, the vulture calls out, “There it is, my home! Hurry Théo!”
Picking up the pace, Théo barrels toward the door at full force. Violently swinging it open, the young griff darts inside and waits with bated breath as his older ally comes in second. The vulture finally reaches the threshold, zombies and skeleton hot on his tail…
Then, a cold talon suddenly grips his hind leg. He’s quick to go crashing down with a panicked yelp, collapsing just in the doorway. He screams and frantically tries to scrabble back inside when he feels the cold grip of more and more, the swift slide back. The blood running down his legs next to a horrible and crushing pain.
Amidst it all, however, there’s something that gives him hope in that split second: He’d stopped short of sinking into the horde. His sole ally in this entire mess, Théo, sprung into action immediately. Taking the collar of Yoel’s armor in one hand and his weapon weapon in another he’d face the horde. Pulling back and bashing and swinging, one by one the dead fall.
Finally, he’s able to pull him from his death. Though horribly battered and bruised by the attack, he makes it through that doorway alive. While the older griffon shakily drags himself in, Théo gets the door and slams it shut as hard as he possibly can, snapping a skeleton’s frail limb off inside.
“The-- The shelf--...” Yoel weakly rasps, vaguely motioning with a talon.
“On it!” Théo exclaims, quickly scanning the room for the furniture in question. He’s quick to find it by the door and throw it down in the way. Taking a tense step back, the room grew silent save only for the banging at the door and the duo’s heavy panting.
Letting out a ragged sigh, Yoel goes limp and simply stares up at the ceiling above, his eyes all glassy. At the sudden thud behind himself, Théo’s gaze snaps over with a look of shock. Rushing over, he kneels down beside the old griff, “A-Are you alright?”
“Fine. I’m livin’, anyway.” He pauses a beat, glancing Théo’s way, “Thank you, Théo. It hurts like all hell, but how’s it look?”
“It’s…” Théo starts, examining Yoel’s legs to no avail, “I can’t see. It’s too dark.”
“Help me up, then.” He’d mutter before sitting himself back up with a pained grunt and a wince, “We’ll get into the panic room and light up a candle. Get a better look at things.”
And so Théo did, pulling Yoel up and letting him lean up against them. The room had been quite dark, yes, but it had been no darker than the forest. It wasn’t like his house had been particularly tricky to navigate anyway, what with its simplistic layout. The two are easily able to hobble their way to a little corner just out of sight. It’s there where they’re able to take a knife and slide it in the crack of the floorboards.
With some effort, Théo’s able to crack it open, and with even more effort he’s able to lower the injured griffon down without hurting his legs. Without hurting his legs too much, that is. When he gently thuds against the ground, Théo utters a little apology before following him down. Replacing the boards and pinning a burlap sack over the cracks, they’re safely stowed away.
Though it’s dark, Yoel’s able to get the matches out. With one strike, a dim orange light fills the room. And not a moment too soon, they’re able to light a candle and get him seated by an old, rickety table so they can have a better look. Kneeling down, Théo holds it up with as much care as he could possibly muster
“It’s bad.” Théo murmurs wearily, “Real bad. Do we have anything to stop the bleeding with?” To which he’s directed toward a nearby chest. Retrieving some clean rags from it, the young griff begins dressing his injuries with a conflicted frown.
“I’ll-- I’ll be fine, though.” Yoel idly mentions, wincing and gasping as Theo works, “I-I’m still awake and ready to give em hell, aye?”
“But you can’t run. And with how the skies are, can we really hedge our bets on flying the whole way?” Théo mutters back, putting the finishing ties on their makeshift bandages. The young griffon hesitates then, reluctant to look him in the eye. Yet as their eyes do meet, he whispers, “What do we do?”
“I don’t know.” The courier simply responds.
“I… Do you think she really left us?” Théo’d hopefully ask. He’d never receive more than a grunt in response, as Yoel looks away with a sort of fire in his eyes. The younger griffon seems to deflate, slowly trekking to an open bedspread. Glancing back from the corner of his eye, he says, “We’ll figure something out tomorrow. I don’t want to leave you here.”
With the battle done and the day feeling quite lost, Théo was drained. Unceremoniously flopping over onto the bedspread-- Grunting in pain as his own minor injuries begin affecting him-- Théo rolls over, stares into the wall, and tries to put it all out of his mind. He’d try to forget the abandonment, and the fort. Their cuts and bruises, and the shambling undead they’d come face to face with alone. Théo, curled up alone, simply lets his mind go blank.
And, worn out from the long day, the world soon drifts to nothing for the young griffon.
-=#=-
Théo in his restless sleep awoke to the sound of footsteps above, coupled with the rasp of metal and the shift of chains. Muffled voices sounded out from up above Not a single thing more than that. Feeling as though he hadn’t even slept-- Perhaps he never did!-- the messenger acts. Keeping as low and silent as he can, he’d force himself upright and creep over to the sleeping Yoel at the table.
He nudges him gently, whispering for him to get up. With a groggy little groan, he’d soon stir, “Hrmng, what? What do you want?”
“There’s someone up there. I don’t know who, or how, but there is.” Théo explains, eyes fixated on the burlap cover. With a frown and a curious look in his eyes, he turns back, “I’m going to go look.”
Yoel, though just as cautious, simply nods, “Careful, then. They spot us, and that could just be it for this entire damn mission.”
Sneaking on up as quiet as any cat of prey, Théo climbs up to the cover. Then, slowly and carefully, he removes it. First the burlap, then one by one he shifts the boards. Carefully holding it up, he cranes and twists his head to better peek outside.
What he’d seen couldn’t have brought him more joy at such a time. Replacing the darkness of the night was the sun’s rising light, illuminating three living souls, all clad in armor and carrying the symbol of the order. Weapons drawn, they’d marched room by room in a search for something.
Ignoring his friend’s questioning, Théo finds himself grinning wide and chuckling to himself. And ignoring his friend’s frustrated warnings, he’d practically burst from their hiding place, calling out, “Here! We’re here-- We’re still alive!”
He was quickly met with multiple swords getting pointed his way, the shock of it all causing him to wobble and nearly tumble back down. Completely silent, he raises his talons and worriedly glancing between each knight.
Then, one of them sheaths his sword, a slight smirk on his lips, “Ey, this must be one of the sorry bastards that mare said got lost.” Never minding his allies, the knight steps forward and offers up a talon, “You look terrible. Alive enough for me, though!”
The two knights sheathing their own weapons in turn, they’d respectfully nod and give the two some space. Then, shakily, Théo takes and shakes his talon. With a weary smile, he nods back, “I’m glad she didn’t just leave us. And-- And I’m so happy to see you here.”
“Yes…Well, let’s get you out of here, then. Come on now, I’ve been told you’ve important information for us.” The stranger says, beginning to lead him away. To no avail, however, as Théo tugs and resists while trying to point toward the hole.
“W-Wait!” He’d blurt, “My friend, he’s still down there!”
One of the knights quirks a brow, before hopping down into the basement to check. Not any less deterred, however, the knight guiding Théo would merely pat him and respond, “Right, my own friends’ll take care of him then. We need to patch you up now, though.”
Théo didn’t like it, but he’d nodded along anyway and complied. And as they moved on past the debris of furniture and dessicated zombies, Théo’d realized something: They’d actually pulled it off. The fort still needed saving, but this had to have meant they stood a chance now! And not a moment too soon, either.
Intense relief flooding through him like a weight taken off his shoulders, Theo and the knight stepped toward that ajar door, they swing it open and step out into the morning’s new light.
