Book 2 : Interlude 3

On the road to Jungfrau, Nussegrund

Lir the Paladin

“Henry, hold for a moment, if you would.” Lir requested with a hand raised, squinting at the horizon. 

The tireless boy stopped, the cart laden with their supplies and the beastwomen coming to a stop with him. The young man was only barely strong enough to pull the heavy cart, but his stamina seemed truly inexhaustible, and it was remarkable to watch him pull along for hours without any building tiredness. 

Lir certainly couldn’t replicate the feat. Orrin could, but that was because his fellow paladin was enormously powerful, not because his endurance was comparable. Maybe one of the others could do similar, but Lir had seen no evidence of it so far. 

Unfortunately, not even Henry knew the source of his tirelessness. An unknown blessing or strange heritage- who could say? Lir’s natural curiosity itched at him to solve the mystery, but they had more pressing matters to worry about. 

Henry blinked. “Yessir?”

“Smoke on the horizon.” The woodself declared before Lir could explain, nodding his head in the distance to where columns of thin ash rose steadily into the air. It was a clear day and well after noon- Orrin’s window of strength would’ve already passed. “At least six fires, burning something unclean.”

Lacel flipped a lock of hair back over his shoulder with a scowl on his delicate features. “Unless there’s some grand burning festival I’ve never heard of, then that’s the site of this supposed siege.”

“Directly in the direction that Orrin and the others rode off to.” Lir muttered in confirmation, slowly nodding his head. “We’ve got womenfolk with us, so just running forwards isn’t the best idea. If there’s truly an army around the city, then getting within visible range is best avoided.”

“Y-yeah! We can’t exactly fight you know!” The catwoman growled worriedly, clinging to the side of the cart and tail frazzled with stress. “So you better protect us, got it?!”

Henry turned to give a smile and thumbs-up. “Alright! I’ll do my best!”

“Woodself Lacel, would you do us the service of scouting ahead and coming back to report?” Lir asked, turning to the lean elf. “The others haven’t returned yet, so we’re blind as to what we’re walking towards. It’s best to be cautious here.”

“Pfeh.” Lacel scoffed before nodding. “I suppose.” The elf almost immediately dashed off, carried by his clicking heel boots.

“Wait, we need to prepare a meeting pla-” Lir began before trailing off as the elf continued to dash forwards, heedless of his voice. His mouth snapped shut and his hand dropped, a frown coming over his face as he watched the elf disappear over the next hillside. “...Sir Mallorn spoke truth- Elves are most frustrating to deal with.” He mumbled with narrowed eyes.

“Well, Mallorn isn’t, is he?” Henry asked with a raised finger.

“He’s got his own irritating habits.” Lir muttered, thinking about the broader elf’s reckless abandon, before shaking his head and then giving a firm nod. “But no, you’re correct, he’s been more than agreeable enough thus far.”

“What were you going to tell him, paladin?” The half-spider woman asked from the back of the cart. She didn’t trust him, for one reason or another, and had the subtle features of a foreign woman. She hadn’t caused any issues either thus far, however, and so he held his tongue about her presence among them. 

But he was always vigilant. No one becomes that bestial without doing something atrocious.

“I was going to tell him where he could find us again- sticking to the roads now that we’re this close is a bad idea.” Lir shook his head and turned, speaking with some authority to the rest. He gestured at the treeline to their side, across a stretch of empty fields that sat next to the smooth stone road. “We should find a place to hunker down and hide, within view of the road but hidden from it.”

“I like that idea!” The catwoman declared with a firm nod, reaching forwards to smack Henry on the shoulder a few times. “Hurryup Hurryup Hurryup!”

“Stop slapping Mr Henry!” The dogwoman growled, all but tackling her friend to protect the utterly unbothered young man. A brawl started to develop between the two young women in the back of the cart. 

Lir elected to ignore the developing comedy. “I’ll help pull the cart.” He declared, stepping back to take hold of one of the two bars. Henry blinked before nodding gratefully, stepping over to fully grab the other arm. “We’ll go over there where that fallen trunk is, and roll the cart behind it, alright?”

“Got it.”

They began to pull, straining with the weight of the cart and rolling it over the irregular terrain. It was more difficult than pulling it over the smooth roads, but splitting the work between two men made it significantly easier. 

“Should I set up a campfire?” The spiderwoman asked with a wary glance towards the woods and back towards the road. 

“No- no fires.” Lir shook his head. “That will just make us more visible. My goal right now is keeping you three protected while we wait for one of the others to come back with news. We should endeavor to stay quiet and low.”

“That means knock it off, you two.” The spiderwoman growled at the fighting cat and dog, who paused in their tugging of each other’s cheeks and clawing motions to exchange nervous looks. They broke apart soon enough, just as the cart rolled around the fallen trunk.

Lir paused, eyes narrowing at a seemingly innocuous crow which pecked at the corpse of something small and fluffy, before shaking it around in its beak and flying off. A single feather slowly drifted down to the ground in its wake.

Instincts told him there was something off about that crow. He made a note to inspect that feather once they were well hidden.

“Goodbye Mr. Bird.” Henry waved slightly as the bird flew away. They pulled the cart to a stop behind the large fallen trunk and Lir looked around with a frown. 

“Help me with these shrubs.” He said, walking over to a large section of brush and withdrawing his bootknife to start hacking off limbs. “We’ll set these up on the cart to hide it better. Nothing overt, but something that has leaves will just look like more foliage from the road.”

“That’s a good idea, Sir Lir!” Henry cheerfully nodded his head, stepping over to start helping with the process. Limbs sawn off and then used to mount on the sides of the cart, eventually forming a light layer of foliage that made the vehicle look to be a large shrubbery on casual inspection.

It wasn’t his best work, but it was good enough.

After the disguise work was done, Lir stepped over to the discarded feather, inspecting it at first with just his eyes before prodding it with his knife and gently lifting it up. It looked much like a standard black feather of a crow- or perhaps a raven, but with an unusual streak of vibrant red along its midsection. 

“What are you looking at, Sir Paladin?” The dogwoman asked, stepping up behind him. Lir, being careful to not blow the feather off with his breath, turned to speak. 

“The feather of that bird from earlier.” He explained, balancing it on the tip of his knife. He slowly brought it closer to his face and took a very, very gentle sniff. There was a faint scent, though he couldn’t place it. 

“...Why are you looking at a feather?” The catwoman asked from further back, near the cart. 

“Something about that bird bothered me, but I can’t place why.” Lir mentioned, tentatively reaching out with a gauntleted hand to grasp the feather by the tip. With a more firm grip, he held it up for the others to observe. “It might be nothing, but…”

The silence hung for a few moments.

“...It looks like a normal feather.” The catwoman said dryly. 

“It’s very pretty though!” The dogwoman said encouragingly. 

Lir let out a low huff and let the feather drop, brushing off his fingers and sheathing his knife in his boot again. “I suppose it is.”

With that he stepped over and settled down against the base of a tree, in a position that he could overlook the road but not be easily seen from it, and began to wait. The others settled down quietly themselves, a hint of tension in the air as they waited for any of their companions to return.

Moments turned to minutes. Minutes turned into tens of minutes. 

Nearly an hour passed before anything occurred. Lir perked up as he spied a feminine form run down along the road. Long black hair and a pale white dress flowed in the wind as she ran down along the road.

The beat of a horse followed, a great black stallion followed after her, carrying a black-clad rider. He rode at a steady pace behind the woman, clearly waiting for her to reach the limits of her stamina. 

Lir grit his teeth and pushed up slightly, on instinct, before glazing over to the others.

The others blinked as he moved, starting to rise themselves. “What is it-”

“Hush.” He whispered, quickly and authoritatively. He watched the scene on the road for a few moments longer, then glanced back to the ones he was obligated to protect.

The scene didn’t look good, and it was entirely possible it was some kind of trap…

The woman stumbled. The man gained ground at a steady pace, hand reaching to sit upon the handle of his blade.

“Damnation- Henry- stay here and defend the womenfolk!” Lir hissed before throwing himself across the fallen log and sprinting across the plain towards the road. The woman noticed him almost at once, changing her direction towards him. She was carrying a sheathed blade in both hands, clutched to her breast like a babe, and her dress was stained in blood. 

The man atop the horse slowed his pace.

“Halt!” Lir declared, sliding to a stop near the road. The woman practically threw herself against him, before moving around to hide herself behind his back. Muttered thank-yous and desperate pleas filled her voice, the kind he had heard dozens of times before. He placed his hand on the hilt of his sword and addressed the rider. “I am Lir the Paladin! Present thyself by name and station- and explain to me why you are in pursuit of this woman!”

The man atop the black stallion pulled to a halt, reaching up to pull his wide-brimmed helmet back. Long black locks of hair spilled out over his sweeping pauldrons, and his armor was just as black and shiny as his hair and stallion were. 

The man had a pale face and hawkish, aristocratic features. He opened his mouth, baring his teeth for a moment to reveal sharpened fangs before closing them again. “I am the Vampire Derren, scion of Lord Dey.”

“Bold to reveal yourself so immediately.” Lir replied with narrow eyes. 

The vampire nodded, slipping off his saddle to stand on equal footing with him. “A corpse I may be, I believe in the chivalry that I practiced in life.” The black-armored corpse regarded him silently for a few moments, then nodded at the cowering woman behind him. “My scion and lord has bid me to capture that woman, and return with her. Shameful it may be, I am sworn to serve him.”

“And the reason for this intended capture.”

“Please don’t let him take me- please.” The woman begged, leaning against his back.

“That’s not for me to say.” The vampire shook his head, helm shrouding him from the sun. “Please step aside.”

“Without proper justification, I cannot do that.” Lir stated plainly, standing firm before the vampire.

The vampire looked at him searchingly, before nodding slowly and reaching up to his breastplate. “How familiar are you with vampires, Sir Paladin?”

“I have yet to battle one personally.” Lir confessed with a nod, watching the Vampire warily.

A latch was undone, and the breastplate fell forwards to reveal a layer of padding. The padding was pulled away to reveal a pale, bare chest emblazoned with a red circle of some sorcerous patterns that Lir was unfamiliar with. “All vampires have this runemark- it is our only true weakness.” Derren explained, tapping at the edge of the mark. “It is what binds our ghosts to our corpses. If you were to damage it significantly, I would die again.”

Lir furrowed his brows. “...Why are you explaining this to me, vampire?”

“You have many weaknesses, as a living man.” The vampire explained, letting the padding of his torso fall forwards again, then latching the black breastplate back into place. “It would not be honorable for us to duel if I knew all of your vulnerabilities and you knew none of mine.”

Lir gave the vampire a searching stare, looking for some indication that the walking corpse was being anything but truthful in reasoning. He found none.

Lir sighed and shook his head. “You were an exceptional knight before you were turned, weren’t you?”

“I would not wish to seem boastful.”

“Very well. You will have your duel.” Lir replied with a nod, gently pushing the fearful woman aside. He smiled reassuringly at her. “Worry not.”

She shook fearfully, still clutching the sword to her chest, kneeling down near the grass. 

Lir turned back to the vampire, who nodded and drew his helmet forwards over his face again. Lir removed his own helmet from his belt, slipping it on over his face and securing the strap under his chin. The scrap of griffin-hide that hung across his face like a veil flowed in the slight breeze of the roadway. 

They stood silently for a few moments, before simultaneously drawing their blades. Lir’s sword was long and relatively thin, but suitable for one hand. It was the standard sort of blade for Paladins, as their other hand needed to be reserved for their book of laws.

The vampire, on the other hand, drew a long silvered blade and held it in both hands. A sword that was clearly intended for both hands to be wielded. He’d have the reach advantage.

They sized each other up for a few moments, then slowly started to circle and approach. Every few steps the distance between them shrank a few inches. 

The vampire… Sir Derren would be within reach faster than Lir would. Lir would need to anticipate the attack and then move in to close the gap and counter. His foe would know that he’d need to do that, however, so what he needed to actually do was…

Sword raised, he lunged forwards in a circular motion. A thrust that would both defend him from a return-thrust and then pierce his enemy’s neck.

Sir Derren anticipated him here, sword flashing in an anti-motion to counter and use the momentum to cleave down on his collarbone.

But Lir anticipated that anticipation. His free gauntleted hand rose- an extra thick gauntlet with raised spurs designed for this manner of work. He caught the silver blade on the back of his forearm and in the teeth of his bracer. 

Ignoring how his limb shook with the weight of the blow, he yanked the arm to the side and dragged the sword along with it, exposing the vampire’s middle. He recovered the sword from the parry, aimed, thrust-

An armored knee smashed into his ribs, staggering him. The vampire yanked its blade out of his gauntlet just in time to avoid having his face impaled on a blade. A long thin arc of red followed the thrust.

Lir pulled his sword back and up just in time to defend against a counter thrust, only barely bringing the blade away from the center of his torso and making it scrape against the side of his coat of plates. A long gash tore in the side of his armor. The silvered blade started to retreat-

-Lir’s arm slammed down, trapping the blade between his arm and his torso, both clad in plates and chains of steel. He locked eyes with the vampire, Derren’s nose split along the ridge and gushing with old blood. 

He thrust forwards again, the vampire letting go of his blade with one hand and bringing a gauntlet up to smack his hand. A ferocious pain followed, and Lir cursed as he was forced to drop his sword.

The vampire’s grip returned to his sword, and he attempted to yank it out again. Lir’s grip held, his hand went to his belt and withdrew his dagger, moving to…

His stomach burst with pain, driving the wind from his lungs. Strength was sapped from his arm and breathlessly, the dagger scrapped against the vampire’s breastplate. 

There was a sword in his torso. Lir turned in a sudden, instinctive burst of strength, mule-kicking behind him.

A feminine cry of pain followed, along with the sharp crack of something breaking. The sword in his stomach was ripped out along with the attacker, provoking a sharp spike of agony. Lir staggered back, letting go of the silvered sword and clutching at his torso.

“You- What in hells are you doing, Demiss?!” The vampire roared out in sudden fury, turning from Lir and looking past him. Lir held at his gut, and slowly followed the gaze.

The woman in the bloodstained dress picked herself up off the ground, giving him a hateful grin before shrugging towards the vampire. That grin contained long, terrible fangs. “You were taking much too long- and besides, he was about to kill you. You should really be thanking me.”

The woman was also a vampire. Lir slowly reached for his discarded sword, ignoring the ferocious pain in his gut. Long trails of hot red blood spilled down across his armor and to the ground. 

This was bad.

He raised the blade defensively again, the vampires regarded him for a moment, and then Sir Derren lunged forwards with a backhand. 

Towards the other vampire. She staggered back, an ugly bruise forming on her face from the blow. A set of hateful looks were exchanged between them.

Derren continued to glare, before giving a firm jerk of his head towards the horse. “Get on before I make you.”

“Loathsome bastard.” The woman hissed. “We still have this straggler to kill-”

“No.” Derren growled. “You interrupted our duel, you wretched bitch. The battle is over. We’re returning.”

“Pft- you want to explain to father why we aren’t doing our jobs?” The woman laughed scornfully. “Alright- it’s on your stupid head.”

The vampire turned back to him, a scowl coming across his lips and furrow to his brow. He nodded once, firmly. “Our duel was interrupted, paladin, and it would be dishonorable to continue. You will have no further trouble from me.”

“That’s very honorable of you.” Lir groaned, doing his best to maintain his posture even as blood continued to spill. He was beginning to feel light-headed. 

“If you survive, I will be humbled to duel you again.” The vampire declared, pulling himself up upon his horse and taking hold of the reins. “My scion’s allies put siege to Jungfrau, the Chosen Heroine is within. If you can slip past the army of the dead, then her magic will surely be able to heal you.”

The vampire turned and began to ride away, back down the road, with the woman giving him a mocking gesture as they rode away.

“Lir!” Henry finally called out, pulling out of the woods and dashing for him.

Good. The boy waited until they had left…

Lir collapsed backwards, and his vision darkened.