Crystal star spheres glowed in the dark night sky. It was not yet midsummer, so only one of Kelethar’s moons hung pale against its black curtain. Its light shone on the dusty road, emphasizing the lonesome figures of late-night travelers. If not for the natural glow, the dosing guards could have missed the dark wanderer approaching Tartip’s cracked gates. Under the full moon, it was impossible to miss the hooded shadow, leaning a little on a quarterstaff as it ambled toward the large stone walls of the town. The gate watchers waited with anticipation for the creature to reach the barred gate. It was rare for travelers to enter the town this late. As it crept closer, the guards began to make out two pointed ears from behind the wanderer’s frayed hood, and slight wisps of brown hair flipping in the breeze. The she-elf finally stopped before the gate and waited for the action of the gate’s guard who held out his hand for her identification.
“What’s your business in Tartip?” The figure passed him a battered card.
“I need somewhere to stay.” Her rough tone did not invite much elaboration, but this was the guard’s only job. Peering at the picture and then at the woman, he nodded, grinning to himself. She was blinking in her picture.
“Where are you heading to?”
“Somewhere safe.”
“So… what, the tavern?”
It was only half a joke (and not a good one), but the elf didn’t smile; didn’t even look at him. “May I enter?”
“Sure, of course. Have a nice stay,” the guard stepped aside. Surely there was no harm in allowing a traveling hermit to enter the town. He watched the shadowy figure glide down the worn streets until she came to a large wooden structure, dim light protruding from the small windows. His eyes narrowed. There were plenty of open inns, even at this time of night. Perhaps the traveler had bad information. The Adventure’s league was the last organization that any sane person would consider ‘safe.’
Smoke rose in pillars towards the sparkling black sky. Screams of terror and terrible roars of triumph interrupted the night’s silence. The clanging of swords pierced above the sound of crinkling fire completing the soundscape of battle. The sounds grew closer and closer as Bivyre flew towards the conflict, only keeping up with her human friend through the use of a floating disk that she had summoned. This spell was still in its testing/strengthening phase and the wizard had no problem justifying experimenting with it. There was no time for walking. The disk zipped through the winding trees, she could see the ground beneath her whizzing past through the plate’s translucent blue color. It was dizzying. She was already having a hard time staying balanced on the disk while keeping her concentration. Now was not the time to spit up her dinner.
“So much for Elvin nimbleness. '' Hallie said as she sped next to her. Her legs were working so fast that they looked gaseous. Even so, the girl’s breath was even, and she smiled as she spoke. Bivyre rolled her eyes.
“It’s this disk,” and after barely slipping off she added, “I’ll definitely be working on its stability when we get baA-ack,” Her voice wobbled as she just dodged a tree.
Hallie chuckled, “If we get back. This hobgoblin troop is pretty vicious. We drew the short straw for this emergency.” Bivyre wasn’t sure if she was joking or not.
“The more that we defeat, the higher the likelihood that the rest will flee. That chance increases if the commander is vanquished.” She tried to sound relaxed, but she couldn’t rationalize the butterflies in her stomach away. The flame-tipped architecture marking the village was more than just an orange glow now, as their dark silhouettes began to morph into the recognizable shape of modest homes. Her heart began to beat faster. Bivyre wished that she could be as excited to go into battle as anyone else she had ever worked with. For her, the sight of death was no memory she in any way enjoyed. She gulped.
Hallie’s eyes crinkled as she grinned. “Sounds good to me. I’m looking forward to schooling these goons.” With a playful wink, she disappeared into a black vapor, leaving her friend alone. Bivyre rolled her eyes again, but couldn’t help to smirk at the irony of Hallie's actions. The girl was quite sweet to try and calm her nerves, but she was doing a terrible job.
There was no sign of Hal when Bivyre finally reached the edge of the village. There she could see four hobgoblins, and they spotted her as soon as she came into view. They were all close together, without the presence of civilians, providing a perfect opportunity. Stuffing a hand into her components pouch, she pulled a pinch of bat dung and crushed it in a rolling motion between her forefingers as she concentrated on the targets before bellowing an incantation.
With the sound of a burning fuse, a small flickering orb materialized in the midst of her enemies, who turned to acknowledge it much too late. Interrupting the cries of its target, the sphere exploded outward, engulfing the four warriors, and leaving behind chard remains. Not bad for the first battle spell of the day. Retaining her concentration on the disk, she rushed into the fray. As soon as she passed the first burning house, a hobgoblin emerged from inside one of the buildings, blood on his blade. Snapping her fourth finger and thumb together, Bivyre evoked a small ball of flame in her right hand and lobbed it toward the warrior. He took it like a champ and closed the distance between them before she could finish him off. With the flick of the wrist, her disk deflected his first blow, but she wasn’t quick enough on the second one. She gritted her teeth as the blade slashed down into her shoulder. She had dodged well enough, but the metal still made contact, leaving behind a stinging gash. Bivyre bared her teeth, allowing the wave of shock to pass before reigniting her attention. It was not a pain worse than any she had felt before.
The hobgoblin smirked as he pulled his blade back. Without hesitation, she unsheathed her scimitar and made a desperate swipe. Despising the movement, her shoulder flared, and her first strike fell short. Wincing on the way down, she caught a glimpse of her opponent, his face twisted into a rotten grin. In an instant, her resolve was again hard, and she changed the trajectory of her attack before the footsoldier realized she was composed. In a single stroke, she left his face in a permanent expression of shock. Desperate to ignore the blood on her blade, Bivyre rushed deeper into the town without a clue of where to go. For a moment, she considered the weight of her actions but was quick to kybosh the thought.
There were dead everywhere, some hobgoblins, and plenty of civilians. It seemed as though the village center was where most of the action was taking place: five village guards were taking their stand against at least twenty enemies. The beast’s snarling laughter echoed in the open space as they closed in on the young warriors. Bivyre flexed her fingers and spoke a quick word, sending four blue darts from her fingertips at the invaders. They stumbled against the force of the bolts and then recovered, turning their attention towards the wizard.
The distance between her and the coming beasts was far enough that they couldn’t get into swinging range. All of them pulled out shortbows and began to take potshots at her. Four bolts met their mark, and after she had registered what had happened, Bivyre was reeling. The pain was so intense that she almost lost consciousness. Staggering towards cover, she tried to push away the cold feeling of the foreign bodies beneath her flesh. Her teeth felt as though they would break as she bore them, trying to retain a cry of anguish. The situation was beginning to look quite grim. Her energy was drained, her movement was limited, and the hobgoblins were closing in. Spells would work, she just needed to be awake to cast them.
With providential punctuality and a small “poof” sound, Hallie rocketed down from the sky out of a little pocket of shadow. On her way toward the ground, she knocked out two of the approaching hobgoblins with one brutal strike to their skulls. Their companions were shocked at her appearance, and she wasted no time in sweeping the feet out from one and round-housing another.
“Hal!” Bivyre shouted in glee, trying to hide the quiver in her voice. Then she remembered to be angry. “Where, in the burning hells were you? Do you see this?” She pointed to the arrows. “This is why we’ve got to stick together!”
Hal grinned. “I was just scouting ahead. Don’t worry about it.”
“I have four arrows sticking out of me! It's my business to worry about it!” She slouched a little bit, cringing as she did. “What was there to scout anyways?”
“What you need to know is that no reinforcement will be joining us!” she said, dodging attacks on all sides, “I thought you might appreciate that.”
Bivyre raised her eyebrows in disbelief. “Oh! Well, uh, good job then.”
“You're welcome!”
“-Good job getting yourself all banged up before we even started!” The elf finished, making the pained motion of setting her hands on her hips. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re a bloody mess.”
With a wide smile, Hallie pulverized the spleen of one of her opponents. “No due respect, Biv, you look a lot worse. I guess I was wrong to trust you could handle this mess by yourself.”
The disrespect seemed to awaken new vigor in the elf, and, hands pulsing in burning light, she summoned rays of flame at three of the foes. Each one hit its mark, and two of them fell, the fire still licking their glimmering corpses as they lay still. The last goblin growled in pain and turned towards the wizard who burned him to make one more cathartic attack, only to be knocked unconscious by Hallie’s heel. He fell into a pitiful heap.
There were still four foes left, and Hallie was quick to return to them. The first goblin’s attacks fell short as the human danced around his swings. As she evaded his attacks, however, she was flanked by his three allies who took turns slashing at her. Hallie seethed in pain as the blades sunk down into her shoulders and sides, leaving dark red gashes through her black robes.
“Hallie!” Bivyre was shaking all over, the arrows still stuck deep in her front. This battle seemed more hopeless by the second. These foes weren’t even the last of them. None of these thugs looked like the boss.
Quick enough, Hallie was up and running, bashing through two more soldiers and knocking out another. “Don’t worry about it Biv!” She called, turning away from the enemy. “Get yourself healed up and we can head out to find their leader after I deal with these minions.”
Hearing that, the Hobgoblins snarled out a retort and rushed to attack. “Don’t you dare disrespect Commander Tktlackt! You gnats stand no chance against his strength! He’ll strew your guts from here to Peyt!” The goblin’s words ended in a harsh gasp as the human sunk her heel through his chest.
As Hallie dealt with the remaining soldiers, Bivyre focused on her wounds. The arrows would have to go, of course, and that meant some determination. She shut her eyes and ripped out each bolt, one by one. With every shift of her skin, she could feel her pain receptors losing morale until she felt lightheaded. She gasped and metallic fluid filled her mouth, escaping in long, bubbly strains as she groaned through her teeth. She didn't realize that she had clamped down on her tongue in an attempt to stay awake. Sticking her quivering hand in her knapsack, she pulled out a small vial of shining green liquid and gulped it down. Relief flowed through her body as she felt the violent pulsing of each wound relax into a gentle nag.
By the time she had dressed the holes, Hallie had finished off the soldiers. The human limped over, wincing with every step; flailing her arms as she moved to attempt to reach some semblance of balance. On her way by, Bivyre handed her one of the potions. “Nice job back there,” she said as her friend popped the glass’s plug off, “That looked bad.”
Hallie wiped off potion residue from the sides of her mouth and donned a wide smile. “Yeah! Don’t worry about it. You got any swabs?”
Small candles lit the golden cathedral along the Llamh coast shoreline. Through its many windows, light shined outward, creating small pockets of dim light in the darkness. The moon’s light shone down on the building, illuminating its shining white color and golden accents. Columns and towers reached towards the sky; hands grasping towards the heavens. Through the great dark oak doors, the splendor continued. Vaulted ceilings and hanging chandeliers invited attention, with great white golden pillars taking up space along the sides of the room. Empty rows of pews waited in the candlelight, framing a long walkway lined with robed acolytes. Each one stared towards a quartet of heavily armored warriors, now walking betwixt the rows of holy persons. Their plate glimmered gold and white, glamoured with intricate golden lines, like bolts of thunder shimmering in dull brilliance. The thumping of their metal boots clambered on the marble floor, muted some by a light maroon rug but emphasized by the eerie silence of the church. The armored three had an air of pride, apprehension, and reverence as they marched toward the stage where an aged champion rested. Her armor glinted in the moonlight that seeped in through a skylight just above her. She stood with a reverent authority: her hands resting on an ornate sword that came up to above her waist. Though her years were many, she stood tall and strong, the wisdom of age holding her up. The four knights knelt in respect, falling on one knee with heads bent down, the moonlight now bouncing off their plated helmets. Now the only sound in the building was the sighing of the night wind and the light breathing of the many involved in a ceremony that was yet to begin.
“Children.” The woman spoke, “Each of you has taken on a unique task. To exterminate the wicked living within this world. To destroy those who wish to create pain, and undermine those who serve hate and massacre. You have been chosen by our diety Akthos, god of the seas and safe passage, to fulfill his desires, however, the choice to accept your task was entirely yours. I remember the trials each of you encountered coming up to this point, the discipline and strength required of you have pushed many away from taking on this challenge, especially when many your age would fail Akthos and I cannot be more proud of you.
“However, as you will be set free from the burden of your responsibilities here, the world will prove to be just as taxing. Moral quandaries and impossible decisions will plague your journey. Such is the world. Perhaps it is in these perplexing scenarios that you must return to your roots. Remember what you have dedicated your life to, and proceed in the way that best represents your values. Be aware of your shortcomings and work to mold them into that which exemplifies your duty.
“You have each taken your oath, each promised yourselves to good. You must remember those guidelines. They are your purpose.” After a brief pause, the woman shifted in her armor and turned to the altar behind her. Each one of the warriors trembled a bit as they heard the jangling of metal objects coming from above them. One, whose helmet had two orange horns protruding out from it, even glanced up for just one second before quickly repositioning as their elder turned back holding a glimmering glave.
“Sarafin.”
The warrior on the far left lifted her head. She was a beautiful human woman, fair-skinned with shimmering black hair. Her frame was built, light, and quick. Her aura was powerful; commanding. She knew that she would be called first.
“Your strength and conviction on the battlefield proved to be unstoppable. Quick in body and mind, your power will come from your ideals. Go out and fulfill your oath.”
With that, the Sarafin stood proudly and accepted the weapon. Her face remained stoic, but there was a strange brightness in her eyes, one reminiscent of a child receiving a dog to celebrate the winter solstice. The elder turned back to the altar and pulled out a shield and a long lance, beautifully crafted from hard iron, with slight golden ribbons intertwined within showing small currents of magic. The shield gleamed with similar craftsmanship.
“Rafail.”
The warrior in the right middle raised his strong head. He was a heavily built Dragonborn. The armor he wore seemed to have been modified to make up for his thick musculature. His frilled bronze head wore no helmet, but the lack of it only made him look more domineering.
“Your will is as strong as your body. It protects you from all that look’s to destroy. Protect your drive and steadfastness so as to inspire your fellow warriors. This weapon will only help to protect you from those who would wish to break your conviction. Go out and accept your oath.”
Armor creaked as he stood, but he did not show any signs of struggling with the weight. As he accepted his gift he dipped his head and shamelessly admired the weapon with a kiddish smile. With a sigh, the elder turned towards the altar once more.
The last warrior glanced up again as the old champion’s back was turned. There was a blank look of suspense in her eyes as she forced her head down as quickly as it had popped up. A long orange tail tied itself anxiously around her lower right ankle.
“Psudae.”
The horned warrior’s head jerked up at the name. Although her eyes lacked pupils, their shape conveyed the creature’s apprehension. Light blue hair cascaded from underneath her helmet, falling to just below her shoulders. She was built like a giant, broad-limbed and tall, carrying a mound of glittering armor. Yet, for all her presence, the woman was shaking.
The elder pulled a beautiful shield from the pile. Its base was a gorgeous glossy white. Golden vines wrapped around it from the back, eventually overwhelming the front. Each shimmering branch cascaded down from the shield’s top from where the golden hilt of a blade rested.
“You’ve been here most of your life, and hope that you have been able to find peace here. Most see your kind, tieflings as unallied and self-focused. You’re focused, and willing to sacrifice yourself for your compatriots. May this sword and shield help you to protect your future companions in your endeavors.”
The elder paused before the last words and the lone kneeling warrior looked down at the ground. Her tail untangled itself from her leg and whipped against her other ankle. The other two warriors tried their best not to look at her.
“Go out and accept your oath.”
With an audible sigh of relief, the final soldier stood and received her gifts. She took great care in handling them, touching them like one would touch a fine fabric. Slitting the beveled shield into its place on her forearm, she reached a trembling hand down towards her new blade. The weapon was inlaid with golden twine, tangible yellow magic shooting through it in bursts. The sword and shield were hard adamantine, overlaid with an intricate thin gold layer.
The elder looked over them with a proud glare. “I hereby initiate you three into the Order of Thunder.” The three warriors turned to face the robed men and women watching. “I present to you, the newest Paladins of Akthos. May his storms guide their paths and strike down their enemies!”
Huge applause erupted from the crowd and followed the three as they walked down the road from whence they came. A small rumble of thunder sounded in the distance and the elder stared up at the now clouded moon through the skylight.
“It seems that this is a blessed night.”
