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In The Mist Of The Erie Isles

By Mantrid Brizon

Episode Four: The Unanswered Question Pt. 1

The blades of grass crunch beneath their boots as they walk through the brisk air. A cool mist settles over the island of Widoval, frosting the ground. Kirsta and Irzain turn their heads up, looking at the impressive structure. Visibly sturdier than the Merzarian's clan-house, Valan's family castle is somewhat smaller in its footprint, though it's five floors are much taller. Glancing back, Kirsta sees a smiling Valan as he looks to his right, gazing into the distance.

“Pleased by your new prisoners?" She asks, breaking the silence.

“Oh, no. I'm pleased with my targets." Valan replies.

“How'd you even make those shots? You were so far away."

“I'm something of an inventor. I've discovered that by cutting spiraling grooves into the barrels of my pistols, I can dramatically increase my accuracy." Valan begins.

“Fascinating!" Irzain exclaims.

“I've already discovered a method of ignition that allows me to do away with that awful matchlock, and it isn't as expensive as those custom built wheellocks either! Next, I plan on making the bullets pointed on one side, and see how those perform."

“Your family must be very proud of you." Kirsta remarks.

“... Not exactly..." Valan murmurs.

Marching the two strangers into his family castle, Valan greets a pair of perplexed guards.

“Who're these?!" One asks.

“Just a few new friends. Where's father?"

“In the banquet hall, sir." A guard replies.

“Thank you, and don't call me sir."

“Yes, sir!" The guards both mock him, smirking as they salute.

Sighing and rolling his eyes, Valan leads Kirsta and Irzain deeper into the castle. Passing a few more servants and guards, its abundantly clear that few truly respect the son of their lord, the master of Widoval castle. Glancing back, Irzain can see the displeasure growing on Valan's face with each quip. Entering the banquet hall, Kirsta and Irzain find themselves standing before a large table, shaped like an 'L'. Seated at one end, in a large and ornate throne, an older, heavyset man with salt and pepper hair and a full beard wears a deep purple robe and a matching cloak.

He slurps wine from a silver goblet, while tended to by women who sit in the chairs around him. Some are as young and beautiful as Kirsta. The women are certainly not warriors, or at least not those of a battlefield; they've certainly conquered their share of beds. Looking at Valan, he is visibly distressed by the women around him. He looks at one in particular, who shares a gaze with him. The buxom woman, who sits directly beside his father, seems almost ashamed of herself. She quickly turns her eyes away from Valan, who looks heartbroken. Shaking it off, he turns to Kirsta and Irzain.

“I present you Lord Falidad." Valan says to his prisoners.

“Who are these that you bring before me, son?" Falidad asks.

“I found them on our lands, father. They were-"

“Oh, so you've finally done something useful, Valan!" Falidad interrupts.

“Father, I-"

“I'm impressed! He's usually too busy working on his inventions to bother with family business..." Falidad interrupts again, speaking directly to Kirsta and Irzain.

“Father..." Valan murmurs.

“Thirty-one years old and he's still unmarried and childless! Do you know how disgraceful that is? What that can do to land and titles? To have my first-born son, my only son, spend all of his time playing with guns instead of breasts and pussy? Sometimes I wonder if he even enjoys women at all." Falidad laughs with sadistic pleasure. “Oh well! I've already written him out of my will."

A wide-eyed Kirsta and Irzain stand dumbstruck by the strange turn of events. They watch as Falidad eats a turkey leg, his eyes fixated upon the large breasts of the woman whom Valan knows. The man, who is old enough to be her father, undresses her with his eyes. His gaze is such that only if they witnessed him ravaging her atop the table would they be more disturbed. Kirsta glances toward Valan, who now stares at his boots, avoiding even looking in the direction of his father. The seething anger in his scowl is heart wrenching.

“And what of these?" A humiliated Valan asks with a grumble, pointing toward the newcomers.

“They're your guests. Do what you like with them but keep them out of my sight. Now, leave me to my duties! I have new sons to sire!"

With another twisted laugh, Falidad leans over, sliding an arm around the young female and groping her large breasts in front of everyone. She quickly turns to see if Valan is watching, but as Kirsta and Irzain look to confirm that, they find that he's already left the room. Quickly backing out of the banquet hall, the pair can hear a few of the guards snickering at Valan's humiliation. Pitying the man, Irzain rushes to catch up to Valan, who storms down the hall. Kirsta, unfamiliar with the castle and unwilling to be left behind, races to catch up to them.

“I'm sorry about what happened." Irzain begins, walking beside Valan.

“Don't mention it." He grumbles.

“Did you know her?" Irzain prods.

“What did I just say?!" Valan stops in his tracks, turning to face him. “Don't mention it. That means 'please, shut your mouth'."

After a brief staring contest, Valan continues his walk.

“Claiming Vella like that, as if he owned her... He might rule Widoval, but he doesn't rule over people's bodies... That fat, disgusting, putrid son of a whore! ... What if Vella wanted him? Was I not fast enough? Did she not feel like I loved her?!" Valan speaks aloud to himself.

Irzain and Kirsta follow the gunman, who yanks open a door and continues through another hall. It's clear to them that he knew and cared deeply for the woman whom his father may very well be bedding at that very moment. Even the hardened Kirsta cannot help but pity Valan. After making it across the castle, Valan enters a room, tossing down Kirsta's sword in anger. Looking to Irzain, she turns her eyes toward Valan, but Irzain shakes his head. He's certain she's considering something that might end badly for the both of them.

“He can't even understand my work. None of them can. They'll all be sorry one day, when they learn how wrong they were about me." Valan continues to ramble.

“Valan?"

“Can't even comprehend the science. It's like talking to dogs."

“Valan!" Irzain speaks louder.

“What?" Valan turns toward him.

“What are these inventions? I'd like to know about them."

“Pfft. Sure you would." Valan dismisses him.

“I would! Sincerely! Please, share!" Irzain pulls up a chair, sitting near Valan.

Looking over the man, Valan cracks a little smile. Taking a seat beside him, he retrieves a tome, written in Valan's own hand. Kirsta, without the ability to read or cipher, something often reserved only for the upper class, stands across from them. At first, she assumes that Irzain is simply trying to disarm Valan, but she soon discovers that Irzain is genuinely interested in his work. They discuss Valan's inventions, which seem to take the man's mind off of his pain.

“So, I developed a machine just to cut the grooves in a finished barrel, but I knew that wouldn't be enough! Not when rain can put out a match, and a wheellock costs more than a dozen healthy horses. I instead developed this..."

Valan turns the page of the tome, revealing a strange drawing.

“What is that? Some kind of protective cap?" Irzain asks.

“It's a cap, of sorts. I filled it with a special mixture, powder that I'd solidified. I took the gunpowder paste and smeared it inside of the cap to harden, then, when the hammer strikes it, the flame travels through this tube and ignites the power charge. It's water resistant, cuts down on reload time, and is almost as cheap and easy to make as a matchlock!" Valan exclaims, giddy with excitement.

“Fascinating!" Irzain scratches his beard.

“And that's what kept you from-" Kirsta stops mid-sentence.

“From what? ... From Vella?" Valan's tone shifts.

“Well..."

“I did this for my family. I did this for everyone! ... I did this for Vella..." Valan's eyes water.

“But they're just guns." Kirsta remarks.

“Heh... You're wrong. You just don't have any vision. These guns are more effective, more powerful, and more accurate. These guns could've made Widoval something more than a pissant island-state. These guns could conquer a nation. One day, I was hoping to make a gun that could shoot more than one round reliably, and maybe even be reloaded before the sun sets. Do you know what that would do?! It would make swords and armor obsolete. It could make this weak, spineless man stronger than you!"

“Hey!" Irzain grumbles.

“When a frail old woman can kill a fully-grown, muscular Helngar with ease, do you know what we have?" Valan asks, his smile returning.

“No." Kirsta shakes her head.

“True equality... It's just a shame that you can't see it."

“I can see it." Irzain interjects.

“That's because you have vision, unlike some people." Valan glares at Kirsta. “One day, when that fat bastard dies, I'll take over, regardless of what that will says. They won't be able to stop me when I can shoot them all!"

“That's anger talking." Irzain retorts. “You don't always need to resort to violence."

“I see you're your vision can only go so far." Valan smirks.

“On that, we can both agree." Kirsta adds.

A gunshot interrupts their conversation, startling the trio and drawing their attention toward the hall.

“What's that?!" Valan jumps out of his chair.

“Oh no... They must've followed us." Kirsta remarks.

“What followed y-... Oh no..."

Only then does Valan remember the undead monstrosities that came for his new companions. He hadn't had the time to tell his father, Falidad, about the creatures. Drawing his guns, Valan checks them for readiness, while Kirsta collects her sword from the table.

“Do you have arrows for that bow slung over your back?" Valan asks, reloading his second pistol.

“If I had arrows, I wouldn't be using this sword, would I?" She snaps.

“True... Look in that chest, over there."

Following his finger, Kirsta dashes across the room and lifts the lid of an oaken chest, finding it filled with various, strange devices. Some look like bows, but they're far too small and have handles like his pistol. Moving the artifacts aside, she discovers a full quiver of arrows, one of the only items she recognizes. Taking the quiver, she drapes it across her back. Slipping the sword into the frog on her belt, she takes up her bow.

“Can you handle a weapon?" Valan turns to Irzain.

“Maybe."

Rushing up to Kirsta, Valan kneels down and digs through the chest. He pulls a strange weapon from the chest, along with miniature arrows.

“What is that thing?" She asks.

“You've never seen a crossbow? I thought it would be wonderful to have a compact, hand-held version... Despite its looks, it can still kill a man." Valan explains.

“These aren't men." She scoffs.

“They used to be." Valan quips. “Hold it like this. Squeeze this to fire, and when you need to reload, pull this lever back, and put a bolt in the track."

Irzain pays close attention during Valan's brief lesson, eager to make good use of his new weapon. Exiting the room and ready for battle, Valan leads them down a hall. As soon as they turn a corner, they stop in their tracks, finding the guards fighting with skeletons and zombies of all kinds. Some have strangely shaped forms, like the creatures from Irzain's encyclopedia.

“How did they get in so fast?!" Kirsta asks, firing an arrow.

“The gate isn't locked unless they feel the need. They must've snuck up on the guards." Valan replies before taking a shot.

“What about the watchtowers?! Wasn't anyone posted?!" Kirsta screams, firing several more arrows.

“I don't know! There're no other clans on the island; we've never had an attack before!" Valan answers.

“Unbelievable!"

“This way!" Valan yells.

Racing down the hall, close behind Valan, Irzain sees a zombie stabbing a dagger into a man's skull, from below his chin. Turning toward him, the ghoul clearly takes interest, releasing its victim and approaching him with outstretched arms. Taking aim, Irzain fires a bolt from his crossbow pistol, burying the ash rod into its forehead and killing it instantly. With a delighted smile, Irzain almost forgets to reload. Rounding a corner, Vella, naked and with her breasts bouncing freely, emerges into a hall. Valan stops in his tracks, looking at her with a pitiful expression.

She reaches out and opens her mouth, but before she can speak, a skeleton emerges from the room, jamming a sword through her ribcage, from left to right.

“No!" Valan shouts.

He takes aim and fires, killing the skeleton, which drops in a heap atop an equally dead Vella. Standing over her corpse, Kirsta pulls at Valan's shirtsleeve. He turns to look inside of the room, finding a ghoul pulling out the intestines of his naked father, who lay defenseless on his bed. Still alive, his father holds out a hand to Valan. With a little snicker, Valan continues his escape.

“Where are we going?!" Kirsta asks, killing a few more undead with her bow.

“There's a watchtower this way." Valan replies.

“We're going up?!" Irzain asks in shock.

“It has a trapdoor and a rope ladder. It'll let us out, beyond the castle walls."

Darting through the hall and turning another corner, Valan leads the pair up a thin staircase. Pushing open a trapdoor, they're on the far side of a watchtower. Peering through the machicolations, Kirsta can see that the grounds below them are as empty as the tower itself.

“Here." Valan says as he pulls open another trapdoor. “This is the way out."

Pushing a rolled-up rope ladder, it unwinds as it falls, but partway down it seems to tangle.

“Damnit... Nothing can ever be easy." Kirsta grumbles.

“Let's just hope that its nearly at the bottom." Irzain remarks.

Climbing down first, Kirsta keeps her eyes peeled for any potential threats, looking to the left and to the right as she moves down the rope ladder. Reaching for another step, she discovers the end of the ladder. Turning her eyes toward the ground, she's at least ten feet in the air. Moving down the ladder above her, Irzain and Valan close in.

“Wait!"

“What?" Valan peers down at her.

“The ladder ends." She looks back up at them.

“Can you kick the rest free?" Irzain asks.

“I'll try."

Looking down at the ground, a nervous Kirsta gently swings her foot. She tries to use the toe of her boot to undo the tangle in the rope ladder, feeling the kink in the rope. A little tap proves unsuccessful, so she kicks it a little harder, shaking the entire ladder. Losing her grip, Kirsta falls.

“Ahhhh!" She screams.

Landing with a hard thud on her feet, she rolls back, snapping her bow and most of the arrows.

“Ow!" She cries out.

“Kirsta!" Irzain exclaims. “Are you alright?"

“Silly question, Irzain." Valan remarks.

Moving down the rope ladder, Irzain hooks a board with his foot, struggling to lift the bundle. With an arm hooked around another board, securing him to the ladder, he untangles it with his hands, dropping it down. Now nearly touching the ground, Irzain and Valan move down the ladder, racing toward Kirsta.

“I think I just sprained my ankle." Kirsta grits her teeth through the pain.

“Are you sure?!" Irzain asks.

“Yeah... I'm sure." She nods her head.

Seeing the sweat beading on her forehead, Irzain knows that she's likely lying, downplaying her wound to her companions. Placing his hands on her boots, her quickly yanks them off.

“AHHH!" She screams, as he pulls off her right boot. “I said I was sure, you bastard!"

“Oh no..."

Looking down, Kirsta can see the purple hue of her damaged ankle, which is clearly broken.

“We may need to amputate that." Valan remarks.

“Cut off my foot and I'll cut off your dick." She snarls.

“I'm not using it." Valan quips.

With a little chuckle, Kirsta lies back. Staring intently at her ankle, Irzain deeply wishes to relieve her pain. Reaching out a hand, it begins to glow. Valan sees this, but Irzain seems to ignore it. Resting his hand on her ankle, Kirsta gasps and grips the grass. She balls her fists and tears the frosty blades from the cold ground, looking down at Irzain, who kneels beside her. The fog from her breath visibly shakes. Is she in pain? Taking his hand away, her ankle has been completely healed.

“You practice Halcyon?!" Valan gasps.

“I guess so..." Irzain murmurs.

“You didn't even need to speak!"

Kirsta turns her eyes toward Irzain, a strange look on her face. It's a mixture of shock, gratitude and fear. What other skills might he be hiding, against his will?

“Can you walk now?" Valan asks, offering his hand.

“Yeah..." Kirsta takes hold. “I think so."

Lifting her from the ground, she brushes off her clothes, then removes her broken bow and the quiver of arrows.

“So much for those." She sighs, drawing her sword.

“Come on. There's a cave nearby, and beyond that cave, an old dock. It was the first dock my ancestors built. There's usually a boat there, for emergencies." Valan instructs.

Kirsta slips on her boots before she and Irzain follow Valan, who leads them away from the castle and down another path. The trail winds through the woods of Widoval, twisting and turning.

“This island didn't look this big." Kirsta remarks.

“It's not. We'll be there soon. We just need to keep following the pa-"

“Raaaagh!" A zombie interrupts, popping out from behind nearby foliage.

Several more undead emerge from beyond the brush, reaching out for them.

“Damn them! Where did these all come from?!" Kirsta growls, drawing her sword.

“If we somehow get lost, follow this path and meet at the cave!" Valan instructs, his voice shaking.

Taking aim with both pistols, Valan fires, killing two undead. Irzain himself shoots a bolt, killing a third, before Kirsta charges ahead, impaling a ghoul with her blade. The two men struggle to reload; Irzain's crossbow pistol is considerably faster. He looks over to see Valan's shaking hands, struggling to pour powder down the barrel of a pistol. As he hangs the powder horn and rams the cloth covered ball down the tube, a skeletal hand emerges. Grabbing at his somewhat dressy shirt, Valan jumps back. Crying out as he falls, Irzain fires a round into its skull, destroying it.

Hands grasp his shoulders, startling him. Irzain elbows the creature in the face and runs a few feet down the path. Turning back, Valan has disappeared. Two zombies shamble toward him, arms outstretched as Kirsta fights the monsters in the background.

“Irzain! Run!" She screams at the top of her lungs.

Racing through the forest, the branches smacking him in the face, he struggles to see where he's going. He's desperate to find the cave, to rendezvous with his new companions. Emerging from the forest, he looks around, sighing with relief when he sees the mouth of the cave just a few dozen feet before him. Taking out his weapon, Valan tries to finish loading his pistol. Placing a percussion cap on the nipple of the weapon, he fully cocks the hammer. Hearing a noise from the brush from whence he'd come, he turns and aims. Popping out of the woods, a ghoul appears. With a little grin, Valan shoots it in the head.

“That's a good zombie." He remarks, looking at the corpse. “Now you all just wait in those woods while I reload..."

Taking out his powder horn, Valan begins to pour. Emerging from the darkness of the cave, another ghoul shambles toward him. Gasping from fright, Valan drops his empty weapons and powder horn. He swiftly draws his dagger.

“What did I just say?!" He growls, trying to rein in his fear.

With a hard thrust, he stabs the zombie in the head, but his dagger becomes stuck in its skull as it falls back, disarming him. Before he can act, yet another ghoul emerges from the cave. It grabs his shoulder with his decaying hand and holds up an axe, but the monster doesn't strike him. Instead, it looks Valan over.

“You, come..." The undead monstrosity demands.

“W-what?" Valan cringes from the stench of its rot.

“You, come..." It reiterates.

“Fine, I'll go." Valan remarks, shaking off its decaying hand. “Just don't touch me... ... You're disgusting."

“Aarrrrrgh." The zombie growls with a damp and sickening rasp.

Holding the axe to the unarmed Valan, it leads him into the cave. Soon after entering, Valan can see flickering lights ahead. It's the familiar glow of a wall sconce. Has someone installed torches?! No one has used this cave in decades, if not longer. Following the only tunnel, several skeletons lower their weapons, helping the ghoul bring Valan in. Finally, they reach the end of the tunnel, which opens up into a vast and well-lit room. Hundreds of candles and dozens of torches give the interior a warm, orangish hue, while also increasing the heat considerably.

Stepping through the earthen archway, Valan's eyes struggle to adjust to the many flickering flames, his vision already adapting to the darkness of the cave tunnels. Growing uncomfortable from the heat, Valan pulls at his shirt collar. With a hard shove, the zombified warrior jams the wooden handle of his rusting axe into Valan's back. He stumbles further into the room.

“Watch it, asshole." Valan grumbles, regaining his balance.

“Well, hello there!" A deep voice greets him.