Nostrum: Tales of Valor

Callous Mires

Drooping vines and clover-colored leaves of mossy, twisted branches canopy mucky lands. Clusters of cattails and whiskery ferns litter the boggy soil, giving way only where they must, but never where they should. As still, damp air brings about a layer of sluggish fog, the chirps of frogs and other pestilent critters fill the void. With nothing to fear in their own domain, they stop not when in the presence of what they find to be familiar, yet curiosity brings their chatter to a halt. A trail of silence is crafted, slithering through the marsh much like a serpent, whilst lacking the actual form. In the midst of it all, three orbs of light flicker about. Each being in possession of a predator unknown to the local wildlife; Mankind.

Keeping their feet as dry as they can, the Nostrum tread through deep puddles and tall foliage. Being aware of their surroundings, they avoid the largest of the pools. For what lies beneath them may be worse than what has already been discovered above them. Yet, so long as they remain undisturbed, their behavior will remain docile, and their hunger, undemanding.

"Do you think they'll be alright up there?" Cronn asks, his mind wandering to a world that doesn't yet exist. "What if the Great Beast goes back?"

"Then, they'll be ready." Briar assures. "Fredrick was unaware of the threat that had been posed against him. The others won't be. Everyone is on the lookout."

"Bit unfortunate that it cost us some of our numbers on the field though, I must say."

"Indeed. If it had gone any other way, I'm sure we'd have been stuck there ourselves." Briar takes a large step over a valley between two soft pads of moss in an effort to keep his feet above water level. Then, looks back at the others as they repeat his steps in a single-file line. "Belial, how are you faring?"

Belial doesn't speak for several moments. He simply watches the ground lain out before him and gazes over his shoulder on occasion, keeping an eye on the mountaintop they have come from. Then, with a cough- a gift given by his outdoor slumber-, he clears his throat and looks ahead of Cronn, at Briar.

"I'll be alright. Though, I too have some concerns for the others."

"No need. They can handle a single beast. Some may even do so better than ourselves."

"Yes, but;" Cronn begins again, "How are we supposed to stop these Knellers in time with so many Nostrum reinforcing The Council's defenses? Surely, they will begin reappearing before we manage to silence them all."

"Unfortunately, that is a risk we just have to be willing to take."

"Shh!" Belial demands, raising a finger to his lips and straightening out his back as if something has caught his attention. "Did you hear that?"

The three of them turn their torches about. Trying to catch a glimpse of whatever it is that Belial speaks of. When they come back with nothing, they turn to him and wait for more directions to be given.

"Are you feeling alright, Belial?" Briar softly asks. "You may not've been ready to come back out here with us, given what happened back at the Covenant's stead."

"No, no. I'm fine. Listen!"

Pacing their breathing and letting the crackle of their torches be the only audible sounds they produce, they lay in wait for what only Belial seems to sense. Then, suddenly, the jingling of a Kneller is heard. Belial looks back at the others with an expression that craves confirmation. In return, both Briar and Cronn stiffen their own and direct their flames towards the sound.

"Well," Cronn whispers with a single step forward, "best we collect the first of the bells, hm?"

"Agreed." Briar responds with a smirk. "But we must move quickly. Lest they bring about more trouble than we anticipate."

With quick and silent motions, the trio navigates through the marsh, keeping their heads forward and focusing all of their energy on reaching the origin of the sound. As the echo becomes more distant and the source, more direct, they douse the flames they have been carrying and use only their limited sight to guide the way. Within minutes of traversing the terrain nearly blind, they spot it. The red haze of a bell that has just been rung once more. As the sinister chime sends a malicious wave over them and the haze appears yet again, so does the morbid face of The Kneller. A canvas riddled with deep creases in the deathly tissue that it's been constructed from, two sunken pockets where the eyes were once lively, a nose that is all but missing- having been molded harshly against the bones beneath the surface, and rotten teeth poking out from a gaping hole that could've once been used to speak with, but is no longer capable; As it hangs unnaturally low and the muscles have become too weak to raise it so that both sets of teeth can meet. Before the morbid face is engulfed by dark fog once more, The Kneller sends out another spurt of red haze, giving the vapor around her yet another charge of crimson glow.

As the three of them close in on her, each additional chime sends a jolt of increasing pain up Belial's spine, which climbs to the base of his skull, causing brief but consistent throbbing headaches. With only a few paces left, Belial begins to stumble. Nausea and distorted vision complicate his ability to walk, or even stalk. In just a few short moments, his ailments intensify beyond the point of being bearable any longer.

"Belial, watch out!"

As Cronn goes to catch Belial before he can fall over, his frantic words gain attention from The Kneller. With another wave and a fresh cloud of red, The Kneller jerks her head in their direction. Once more, she outstretches her arm to its fullest extent and rattles the bell. Briar, watching their plan fall apart, swiftly sends an arrow soaring towards her. With hardly any time passing, she lets out a weak, yet sharp whimper and collapses; Cutting the chime short in the process. Now, partially submerged, the haze disperses and the clapper comes to a rest. The impact her body makes against the ground causes half of the surrounding marsh to become eerily quiet. With small waves crashing against the banks, the nearest of the frogs leap into the water; Attempting to escape and keeping their nightly calls to a minimum as they breathe in the ghastly Kneller's blood.

"That could've gone better!" Cronn spurts out with disgust. Still holding onto a gasping Belial.

"Are you alright, Belial?"

"I'm fine. I just tripped is all."

"Don't fib at us. You need to rest." Cronn shifts Belial's weight just enough to pull himself out from under him. Then, stands and brushes off what he can of the green stains and loose water that accumulated on his wears. "Briar, we need to set up camp for the night. He is in no condition to continue this trek."

"I agree, but not here. We need to find somewhere we can assure ourselves there are no Knellers. The last thing we need is to be caught off guard by something they've dragged into this world."

"I'm fine!" Belial exclaims, lifting himself up with such force that he almost topples over once more. "We need to keep moving. There is no other option if we intend to take care of the countless Knellers out there." As he gets to his feet, he begins coughing with enough force to offset his balance.

"No." Cronn states, taking Belial under his charge and catching him beneath the arms. "You have to rest."