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Of Valor in Men

Chapter two: A Winding Road

The morning brought with it the familiar wardrum-esque headache typical to a hangover, enhanced by the commotion of some nearby crowd. I'd been carried up to my room from the bar, it was plain, bare with nothing but a simple wooden bed and an old chest. Yet smoke wafted into my room, not the smoke of a campfire but that of a roaring inferno. Dizzy and nauseous I stood, pushing the door open and stepping out onto the balcony to behold a dark black sky. That of smoke, in the distance dying embers of some huge fire could be seen as the inky black clouds bled into the foggy grey white of morning sunrise.

A bushfire perhaps? But there were no forests or busland to the south, only grassy plains and cliffs. Concern gripped at me, one would utter the words Dragon attack, but Dragons wouldn't do such a thing, not here. I looked out over the muddy entryway of the fort, farmers and soldiers alike all muttering and staring off at the glowing embers on the horizon. Scanning the crowd I spotted Solda and Niyla, but not my scribe, sure I didn't like the lizard but twas a knight's duty to train any appointed scribe to the best of one's abilities.

I moved toward the stairs only to stop immediately, my head spinning and bile threatening at the back of my throat, I shouldn't have drank so much last night. I made my way down slowly, clutching my head and groaning, though as I made my way through the narrow archway into the main hall my eyes would widen.

The main hall no longer played host to tables and chairs and merriment but wounded soldiers, men stood upon crutches, bandaged limbs, horrible burns on any exposed skin. Many of them mumbled incoherently like fools as I made my way past them toward William at the bar. The sallow, sunken eyed friend of mine rose as I stumbled up to him, if anyone would know what was happening here it'd be him.

"What happened... who are these men, the fire?" I muttered, clutching my still aching head as I tried to shake off the nauseous feeling in my stomach.

"T'was a Zeppelin, dunno who's or what t'was on it but it crashed into Stiltsenburg, Necromancer shot it down according to these mumbling fools. They's all that's made it out, Fol sent a Deamon with a message to the capital asking for more men to reinforce the Crossroads" He said with a seldom look in his sunken steely eyes, the mention of a necromancer immediately had me straighten up.

"Necromancer? Here?" I responded, still muttering though now rather troubled, Shades hadn't existed since the War of Arcanis, such teachings were forbidden, punished by immediate execution without trial.

"Aye, If you're looking to get to BerryBuckle you'd best do it quick whilst the marsh road tis thawed. A merchant caravans headed that way soon, saw that lizard you came in with, he's off with the caravan" William added, notioning toward the west entry to the Crossroads, William often spoke slowly, people always assumed him slow witted because of it but I knew him better than most.

Looking out toward the west, narrowing my eyes, if a Necromancer was prowling around then no road was safe.

"Do you still sell your, 'special' supplies?" I asked as I turned back to him, his eyes now slowly glancing about. He nodded to me, William had always had the smuggler mentality, even as a child.

"That I do, and the soldiers here thank me for it to" he responded, though no smile of pride was worn, not at the sight of the broken, injured souls spread around the bar.

"I think I might need some if a Necromancer is roaming around, just to be safe" I muttered away to myself, the Minister had at least been right about one thing, bad things were coming. The forbidden arts hadn't been taught or used since the witch Arcanis had been eviscerated.

"I think that's a wise decision, wait here, i'll grab some things" he said before disappearing off into the back room and down into the cellar. More than anything I hoped he had enriching salts, something to clear this headache and hangover. He returned a moment later with a small leather satchel, passing it over to me in return for a handful of coin.

"Take the north road, it's longer and worn but Tis safer, keep yer wits Roddy" he muttered as I turned and made through the ever increasing sea of wounded.

"You to William" Civilians and farmers now joined the soldiers, even Velkenfolk, all with broken looks, limping, women and children. Such a tragedy was the thing that bred knights, I would stay, help but I had to get to BerryBuckle, Yoel was no doubt wondering where I was and he wouldn't stick around for much longer. I had one chance to get ahead of the Church on this, if I didn't they'd make sure I never got close to it again.

I made for the West arch, a clear line of wooden wagons all with canvas tops waiting, an assortment of folk milling around them looking worried and frustrated, my scribe and his chubbier friend included although they looked much calmer. Fishing around in the satchel I produced a small vial of off white powder, glancing around one last time at the Crossroads. My eyes fell on Niyla for a moment, she gave me a subtle nod, even an incompetent Dark caster wouldn't assault a fort, especially one with a dragon stationed within.

I half turned, gazing out at the glowing horizon one last time, the smoke still billowing thickly into the skies. I brought the vial up, cracking it open and taking a deep breath as rain began to plink off the steel parts of my armour. I turned and began toward the caravan, my hangover clearing up near instantly, a thin wisp of lighter smoke trailing into the air as I emptied the vial.

My squire, whose name I had yet to familiarize myself with greeted me with his usual distasteful look, I didn't blame him, he probably didn't want to be here.

"Ah Sir! Your a knight yes?" my squires chubbier friend said, his voice chipper and warm, I rose a brow toward him and nodded.

"Splendid! Perhaps I could ask you to accompany my caravan to the east? I um... well the mercenaries I had been using as guards seemed to have...fled, aheh" the fellow said, his ears flattening out with a regretful look. One look at the caravan in question I could see various silks, hard timbers, nails and more, construction equipment and decor. An entrepreneur as it would seem, his sharp waistcoat and tunic supporting said assumption.

"I wouldn't blame the cowards, hearing that a Necromancer is loose nearby would make any smart man run for the hills" I retorted, marching off toward the caravan head, checking over the two dragons that had been harnessed to pull the wagons. Dragonholme was far too harsh for horses or bulls, thankfully Dragons were more than proud enough to pick up the slack, hence they were common sight in many occupations.

"Precisely why I wish to hire braver hands for this journey, if you'd be interested of course" the little lizard replied, following me. The two Dragons themselves where stretching and chatting to themselves, the code of valor obliged me to be chivalrous and offer help, the code any knight of Dragonholme lived by.

"Well, stop standing around, we'd best get going before this rain gets any heavier" I muttered as I moved a hand to the pomle of my sword, looking to the East now. Both my squire and his friend immediately began darting about, getting the wagons ready as I stood there, thinking.