Royal blue skies line the eastern horizons, promising the rise of a late-summer sun. Cool, coarse stones whistle as winds rush against them; Fleeing towards the darkest corners of the night. In the gully below lies a robed corpse, stripped of its possessions, and holding out a crooked palm-full of knobby fingers. As if to still be gripping at something that has long ago escaped its clutches.
Tightly sewn gloves work a rope, wrapping it around thin, worn metal and pulling harshly on either end. The peculiar mineral clanks against another, stopping only when it is pressed against the other and Briar's torso. Falling in line, it becomes the third in a row. Looking between a heap of dying embers and those who are tending to Yuler's recovering state, he discretely shakes his head and whips the sash of bells out of spite; Knocking them against his chest. Hearing the clinking vibrations from this, Cronn turns to face his partner.
Recognizing the rare behavior from few but far between memories, he steps away from Yuler, who sips at a vial whilst Belial dabs at beads of sweat that form across her forehead. Once the others are out of earshot, he places a gentle palm against Briar's back, making his presence known and his intentions clear.
"There was nothing you could have done here. We arrived too late and what came of that was near inevitable." Cronn lowers his hand and looks over the remains. A small bubble of guilt he had ignored up to this point begins to grow larger, but he keeps its existence suppressed for Briar's sake. "We can't let these things get the best of us. 'It's a fate that is all too common', yes?"
"Indeed." Briar taps at the grip of his holstered crossbow, dwelling on a moment of weakness he didn't realize he was having during the encounter. "But, perhaps I could have acted faster?"
"What's done is done. We must focus on Yuler's well-being and move on from this event."
"What brings you to have such compassion for me in these times?" Briar jabs, more confused than all else. "Times where my word has been compromised by the request of another, and my perseverance sways? I had several opportunities to keep Gru'go safe. Several chances at preventing his death, yet I took none."
"And why might that have been?" Cronn questions rhetorically.
"I... I thought we might have been able to save both of them." A hard knot passes through Briar's throat and he lets his hand fall loosely at his side. "A waning strand of hope that, somehow, we could have brought Dragar's humanity back." He sighs and looks towards a clump of ash as it breaks away from the indistinguishable mass. "Rookie's mistake."
"And still, these things were only possibilities. You couldn't be sure about any of them, yet you hesitated to act upon a Nostrum's instinct for the sake of thought. Your dedication to our own men is what puts you apart from all others. Hell, it may even outdo Achlys'."
"Let's not push it that far."
Cronn chuckles for a moment before coming back to the sight ahead, where Briar's eyes have remained. He then clears his throat, attempting to brush off the odor that is being emitted from it.
"Listen, I understand why you couldn't say anything and I know I was being hypocritical about the circumstances. I also understand your hesitation and desire to find the best outcome, as the two are linked."
Briar's gaze is severed from the few embers that remain as Cronn's words catch his full attention. Peering at the cheek of his partner, he awaits further explanation.
"Clearly, these... things... are what Achlys wanted you to keep secret. They are also what you came back out here for. Alongside this, you've known what they are capable of far before we found the first of them. This is why- at least, I believe it is why- you felt you could save Dragar. I think you thought that you could wait out its effects, but upon seeing his condition worsen, you accepted that that was not an option. What I am most curious about, however, is what still remains unanswered."
Briar, still holding his tongue for the sake of Achlys' orders, continues to listen without speaking on the subject himself. "If it isn't I who tells him, it isn't I who is responsible for his knowledge."
"If something like this is the result of these reagents being put to use, then someone gave them to The Knellers with the intention of causing these exact situations. Knowing this to be factual, we can safely assume that Dragar was not only not the intended target, but that there will be no less than a handful more of these outbreaks."
"Outbreaks?" Briar asks, knowing that he is only restricted from answering questions, not offering them.
"Yes, outbreaks. Something in this specific type of treated fungi causes those who are infected by the ailment to become enraged and transform faster than they might have naturally. Based on your initial reaction when seeing the very first of them, I'd have to guess that the beasts they are intended to provoke are significantly more lethal than...." Cronn doesn't finish this sentence. Instead, he motions with a slight nod of his head and an uncertain finger that coasts over the entire length of the smoky remnants. "Not only that, but the one who possesses such a transformation is likely a Nostrum... a Pureblood Nostrum. But, who could have known that such a creature exists among us? Who could have sent The Knellers to awaken it?"
"The sun is nearly up now." Briar remarks, with satisfaction seeping out from between his parted lips. "We should get some sleep."
"Not quite yet." The voice catches both Briar and Cronn off guard, and they turn to face Belial and Yuler. Belial stands with slightly crouched knees. Using them to support himself and the weight of Yuler, as she stands at his side with an arm of her own slung over his shoulders. "I have questions of my own."
"Perhaps we should discuss this when you're in better health, Nostrum Yuler." Briar steps towards the weary woman calmly, stopping only as she grips the fold of his arm for balance.
"No. I lost my brother to this thing." Fresh tears pool up at the base of each eye as she gazes deep into Briar's soul. Seeking out some kind of understanding beneath his skin, and finding it with relative ease. "Tell me, was he infected prior to this exposure, or did the thing in that cloth simply overtake him?"
"Yuler." Briar pleads with pity filling his voice.
"He must have been infected prior." Cronn theorizes, looking back on the event. "If the reagent could simply do something like this to someone, then it should have done so to each and every one of us."
"What makes you so sure?" Belial asks, raising an eyebrow in Cronn's direction.
"Simple. We have all been exposed to it, yet none of us changed in any way. This must mean that it reacts solely with the pathogen, causing it to spread rapidly throughout the body and ravage the host's brain. They quickly become confused and disoriented as their lycanthropy takes hold of them."
"Cronn." Briar urges, nudging his partner with a sharp elbow.
"Nothing I am telling you is to leave this circle." Cronn looks to each of the others with a stern glare that promises further harm to those who disobey his demand. "We must keep these things to ourselves to avoid stirring panic amongst the other Purebloods. This will allow us to continue on with tracking down the remaining Knellers, as well as the other parties with little to no conflict."
"Wouldn't it be better to inform them?" Yuler questions, taking into account what the reagent is capable of.
"Not necessarily." Cronn assures. "If we tell them what it is capable of, two things will happen. Firstly, the others may become discouraged and choose to not continue with their duties out of fear that they too will encounter something as we all have. Secondly, this is an opportunity for us to clear out any Nostrum who may have become infected already." The others fall silent at these words. The idea of killing more of their own before such actions are necessary makes them wary of Cronn's truths. "I don't expect you to approve of such a thing, but it is an inevitable outcome and we would be better off clearing them out now, instead of having to deal with them at a later date."
"Shouldn't we get what work we can out of them before we risk losing them so early on?" Belial scratches the base of his chin with a knuckle and looks at Cronn's boots. Seemingly still deep in this thought. "After all, if we're going to get rid of the rest of The Knellers, we might as well do it while our numbers are at their current highest."
"While that is true, it would carry more risks than rewards. What if all of this is just a trick to make us do just that? What if the greater mind behind The Knellers' actions takes note of what we have and haven't done, and chooses to make some sort of airborne concoction out of the fungus? They could easily irritate the plague and cause a bloodbath."
The others return to their silence, seemingly unsure of which route would be best. On one hand, Cronn has a point. On the other, their loss in numbers could also result in an unforeseen bloodbath. Briar clears his throat in an abrupt manner and looks at each of them. Holding the longest eye contact with Cronn.
"That's just about enough of that."
With only seven vials to split amongst the four Nostrum, Briar sighs and places two aside for Belial, two aside for Cronn, two aside for Yuler, and pockets one for himself. With the rest lain out and ready to be collected, he watches the others finish dressing for the trek to come. Buckling boots and adjusting collars, they wipe the sleep from their eyes and shake off what grogginess still lingers as best they can. Briar, having been up for several hours already, remains seated next to the vials he had lain parallel to one another on a flat stone, and keeps the setting sun just within his periphery."I'm starting to think you're holding out on us." Cronn jokingly remarks, collecting his vials as he does so. "With a hoard this small I'd say you've already taken your preference share."As Cronn makes way for the others to come forth, Belial slumps towards Briar, scraping fingernails against the stone and dragging the glass along it as well. Scratch marks along the bottoms of both make h
The Great Hall rumbles with hundreds of voices. All of which speak freely on topics that only those nearest can decipher from the rest. Servants work feverishly, taking orders and dishing them out to hungry Nostrum, as the kitchen's cooks inevitably fall behind. An expected result during such an event. Tired men and women sit irritably at each row of tables. Some, unsure of what to anticipate from this assembly, and others, knowing the outcome will surely be unpleasant. Though Pureblood leadership is strong, solutions do not often co-align with what any one Nostrum would think to be ideal. Yet, they argue not with what is final. Once the heavy entrance doors are pushed shut at the base, and their seal is announced with a loud knock, the room begins to stir even more; Recognizing that their speakers will be joining them soon."Any clue what it might be?" Cronn directs to Briar, through a mouthful of roasted, seasoned chicken breast."What what might be?""Their resolution." Swallowing
As dawn approaches, The Keep comes to an almost complete internal rest. Deep snores and somber whimpers come from those within the chambers as they sleep off fresh memories and a boozy meal. Branching away from the cozy nests and their nasally occupants, Yuler treads lightly down a corridor to the left, making her way towards the bathhouse. Being aware of the separation between The Keep and the bathhouse, she wraps herself in a large, fur blanket; Which covers her robes and drapes to the floor behind her. Alas, its length alone would not be enough to warm her bared feet as she sinks them into fresh white powder, just beyond the outer walls. Leaving a well-defined trail as she trudges on, and with a dreaded shiver, she pulls the blanket tighter, wearing it in such a way that the fur could be mistaken for a coat of her own. Slivers of sunlight beam up towards her from a far-off horizon, making her squint as it pierces her nocturnal eyes. Reaching the door, she bundles her blanket and lo
Briar awakens to the sound of sprung bells overhead; A routine occurrence at sundown. Rolling onto his back, he looks up at the loudest of them all. It continues to sound out for an estimated quarter of a minute before finally silencing itself and leaving nothing more than a hum in his ear. Taking a slow and groggy breath, he clears his throat, pulls himself up, and tosses his legs off the edge of the bed, where he sits for a short while. Soreness in his muscles tells him that he has yet to recover from their prior journey, but it is not, and never has been, a reason to linger behind."Rough night?"Peeling his eyes off the floor, Briar looks over his shoulder towards where Cronn's voice had come from and gives him a dazed grunt."Me too." Placing an arm beneath his head and pulling up his covers, Cronn stares blankly at the ceiling. "Not that I couldn't sleep or anything. Just... strange dreams.""Aren't they always?""Indeed." Cronn chuckles a bit, hops out of bed, and makes his way
Attaching another bell to his rope, Briar works to regain his breath. Alongside him, Cronn does the same, whilst cutting away at an entanglement of rope he had mistakenly got himself caught in. Across from the both of them, Belial stands atop a wagon loaded up with strapped-down barrels and studies the surrounding areas from his vantage point."Can't be many left at this rate." He states, listening intently and scouring the lands below with hawk-like vision. "We were lucky to reach this one as easily as we did.""Easily?" Cronn argues, motioning towards his snared feet."Well, we can't base our success solely on your inability to spot a thieves' trap.""How was I to know some merchant would leave something like this in the treeline? Hell, we weren't even sure what we might be walking into before we actually got up here. Oh, let's not forget, we can't base our professionalism on your inability to remember your full attire.""It matters not." Pointing down the dirt road as a breeze brus
The sound of rapid, panicked splashing causes lake water to rain down on the heads of Briar and Belial, who remain oblivious to the threat that haunts Cronn. With his frantic motions, they can no longer hear any other sounds around them and become more unnerved as their third member remains nonvocal about what has caused his distress. Unable to see even their own noses, they proceed forward, not wanting to linger in the water for any longer than they must, and not wanting to provoke whatever it is that may have startled Cronn. Within moments, Cronn surpasses them with deep, rapid breaths as his face breaks the surface and then submerges again. As the sound of his open palms slapping at the water dulls with the distance he has created between himself and the others, the hissing of his pursuer is exposed to Briar's ears. Then, Belial's. Still being unsure of what it could be, Briar holds himself in place for a moment. Then, swims slightly to his right and reaches out for the source. As
With a wall of flames roaring only a few hundred feet behind them, they idly watch what lays up ahead. Red mist forms in small puffs, being pushed outwards like blood on water, as something near the center stirs it about. A metallic instrument rises above the cloud, then falls and vibrates in the midst of it all, creating yet another puff. With each, the illuminated face of a Kneller gazes back at them through soulless, unblinking eyes. The men notice her curious posture almost immediately upon seeing her; Hunkered forward with labored breathing, she continues to ring the bell in an almost impatient manner. Her bony knuckles knock together with the force she continues to ring with, causing each chime to be even louder than the previous. Realizing the threat this poses to them, the men attempt to catch their breath as quickly as possible, eager to engage. Once the burning in his chest has subsided, Belial is the first to step forward. Gripping tightly at the handle of his cleaver, he b
Jaunty tunes and rigorous boot beating surround a large bonfire, where dozens of men and women celebrate a successful night's work with bountiful meals and upbeat drum works. Their lack of concern for what goes on beyond the light leaves a window of opportunity for one who lingers in the dark, quietly making their way towards the aroma of roasting pork. With a cloak pulled overhead, they step around the backside of a tent, allowing only the base of their chin to be exposed. Once in view, most of the festivities come to a halt. The unexpected visitor remains in place for a moment before continuing towards a table where five men sit, just a few feet away from a wagon full of wheat and dried berries. As they do so, members of the gathering pull their blades free, and once again, the figure stops in place."Now, now." The man at the table's furthest end gets to his feet as he speaks, motioning for the others to lower their weapons. "That's not how we greet a visitor, is it?" Doing as they