The curse of the eastern isle

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15 hours ago, JLH99 said:

Use demons gaze. If there's nothing weird, continue burning bodies.

Agreed.

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This is another long one. I will spare those who aren't interested and say now there are some notable things toward the end of the story but this is mostly a fighting scene.

This is end of chapter III, minus the epilogue. There are things I feel I need to improve on, but I'm getting there.

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It was that time again, to use your demonic powers. A tool you rarely used that you know would see more frequent use over the coming days.

 

You need a moment to steel your nerves. Just thinking back to Portar already makes you feel like the pain is rushing through your body.

 

You take a few steps forward and close your eyes, focusing on the world around you. Your blood begins to boil, the magic begins to awaken. It feels like an incurable sickness deep in the depths of your stomach. You grit your teeth, seething with pain, as the world around you bends and twists, distorting into that familiar image. Your vision grows hazy and distorted, your knees feel weak, and your body feels like it’s on fire, but you push through and allow the powers of your demonic blood to flow.

 

The pain forces your eyes shut. It’s agonizing, a pain that never got easier to handle, regardless of how many times you did this. After a few moments, There is a brief moment of relief from the pain, your body is numb for a mere quarter of a second. That small respite from the agony in your body is the sign, the demonic blood within you, and the spirit you harbour, is awakened.

 

You open your eyes, taking in the sight that the Demon’s Gaze offers you. It is like a different world. In this world, you only see the colour red, voices whisper, caressing your ear in a demonic tongue, and the air is warm and strong with the scent of blood. The raging fires in your veins die down. You still feel the burning in your blood, but it is a fraction of the pain you feel awakening it. 

 

You take in the energies around you. Dark magic is everywhere, overwhelming your senses. It is like a shroud of evil influence surrounds you. Although it is all around you, you can easily identify what created this magic. It is no different from taking the components of a machine and identifying how each one influences it overall, much like how these small pockets of dark magic form a mighty layer. You feel the magic from the portals, the magic from the mighty structure above you, and the remaining essence of the rider you had defeated.

 

To focus on the graveyard, and the foreign dark magic, you had to filter out the rest of the magic around you. While it was together, it muddled your mind as you tried to make sense of everything. It had to be filtered, forgotten, so that you could identify the lesser magics from the graveyard. You focus with all your energy, ignoring the pain as your blood flares up painfully. The seething pain almost drops you to your knees as your legs feel numb. It feels like lava is running through your veins as you push away the surrounding magic and concentrate on that one area.

 

“Franziska!” You feel yourself being held up by Lucina’s arms. You hadn’t noticed that you were beginning to grow weak.

 

Your head is pounding, your blood boiling, and you ache as much mentally as you do physically, but you succeed. The surrounding magic is ignored as you focus in on the graveyard. You feel the same holy power you could feel on the paladins, a welcoming feeling of warmth, but this felt...different. It was both holy magic and dark magic, this concentration of power wasn’t quite the same, like it had been twisted and warped into something darker.

 

Was it the magic of the paladins and the dark remains of the magic from the invasion forming together? Tricking your mind?

 

You tell as you focus the demonic power within you that the magical energy is small, a signature small enough to make you believe there is only one entity, or a handful of small, weaker minions. Something you could combat easily.

 

Feeling the fatigue from your expended power almost instantly, you reach into your satchel and grab the vigorous brew. You yank off the top and take a generous swig, feeling the effects almost instantly as your trembling muscles fill with strength. If there was going to be a fight, you wanted all the strength you could muster.

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Two uses of Vigourous brew have been used. Remaining uses:1/4

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“There’s only one.” You announce as you wipe the potions juice from your lips. “Or at the most, a dozen lower ranked demons.” Since you couldn't properly make out the diluted magic, you  could only tell the strength or identify the entity creating it. It was mostly your own judgement, but you had done this enough times to know you were accurate.

 

Lucina nods. She reaches for Ardent Nocturna and draws the silver greatsword. “We should be able to deal with this without the paladins, right?” Suddenly, the silver haired warrior grits her teeth, and as if she isn’t in control of her movement, puts a hand against her groin.

 

You catch the sight, but ignore it, it clearly wasn't a big issue if she wasn't going to take care of it while she had the chance. The two of you stood on the hillside overlooking the hamlet, there was nothing stopping her hiking up her dress and pissing right here on the ground. “The two of us should be able to handle it.” You agree. Hells, you could deal with it alone. But tonight had been full of surprises, and you expect this to be no different. “Paladin!” You point over to the apprentice guarding the archway and beckon him over. “Tell the head paladin she is not to let the civilians move until we return.”

 

The paladin, most likely confused that a mercenary is issuing him an order, simply tilts his head like a confused puppy. “You heard the woman, pup.” Lucina says with a commanding tone, almost mimicking Catia.

 

“But what’s the matter? Is there trouble?” The paladin draws his sword. He seems to be green, as far as the paladins you’ve met tonight go. He’s young faced, with clean hair that looks like it was straightened and sorted so raggedly that there was no doubt he had done hastily to look formal for his commander.

 

His eagerness is welcomed, but you cannot allow him to accompany you. You place your arms over the paladin’s and gently lower his sword. “This is nothing for you to be concerned about...unless we don’t come back.” You speak softly, as if you’re a mother speaking to her son. “Myself and Lucina can deal with this easily enough."

 

The paladin frowns. You had just rejected him, robbing him of his chance to prove himself. “Aye, ma’am. I will inform the head paladin."

 

As the paladin walks off to find Catia, you turn to Lucina and chuckle. It good to see that even in the face of ongoing evil, some can rise up to the challenge, or at the very least, believe they can. You decide to "borrow" the paladin's lantern from beside the archway. You needed something to see in this darkness, after all. It was of better use in your hands than his.

 

You go with Lucina, around the eastern wing of the church. The sides of the church are barren. There is only shadows and darkness on the hillside, with an old oak tree that lingers near the edge. Toward the back of the building, you see a stone wall that extends out toward the edge of the hill with a cast iron gate. That was the graveyard the paladin had mentioned. That was where you needed to be. You could feel your blood warming up as you sensed the diluted magic coming from the graveyard.

 

Headstones and tombs surround you, even stretching around behind the north wing of the church. The iron gate creaks with the wind. The familiar scent of death pollutes the air. This place felt no more welcoming now than it would have before all this. You look around, taking in what the lantern illuminates. There is a small clearing in the centre of the graveyard where no graves rest and a dead oak tree befitting of this place. This is where the hamlet below buried their deceased. You take in the sight with  a heavy heart; these souls will not have known true rest. The demonic forces will have tainted their rest and revived them to fight the people they once called friends. It is a sickening thought, one you don’t wish to linger on.

 

You move cautiously, deeper into the graveyard. Lucina stays as close as your own shadow. You  can hear her ragged breathing as she follows behind. You walk slowly, holding the lantern while your free hand twitches nervously over the hilt of your shortsword. There could be anything, anywhere, concealed by the diluted magic you sensed. You begin to feel a rising heat in your body. It’s as if your demonic blood is trying to warn you of imminent danger, but with gritted teeth, you ignore it.

 

The intensity of the burning grows. It is like a flame, rising in strength with each step you take, It grows worse, rising and rising. It feels like a premonition, your demonic blood was trying to warn you the only way it knew how. You ignore it, pushing on with Lucina. Suddenly...the pain stops. You don’t know why, one moment you felt a growing pain flowing through you, and the next it was gone. The air for a brief moment feels cold.

 

The air moves quickly, and then falls still almost instantly.

 

It happens in a heartbeat. You stare, wide-eyed, your heart beats through your chest, your legs tremble, a few hairs from your face is an axe, impaled into the stone. Somebody, or something had tried to split your head, but your reactions allowed you to dodge back the moment the weapon got near you.

 

The weapon dissipates into red energy and vanishes before your eyes, back to its wielder. You could feel it, burning the depths of your stomach with fear. Something was here, and it was looking for a fight.

 

You are hesitant. Fear overwhelms you from the strike, but you steady yourself and calm your racing heart. It is not your first time staring into the empty eyes of death. You lower your hand down to the hilt of your sword. You feel safe, as if you are protected, as you clutch the silver hilt. This shortsword protected you better than any shield ever could.

 

Turning the lantern toward the tree, you reveal a bulky humanoid figure in the lanterns light, lurking in the shadows. The figure standing beneath the tree bears the familiar armour of the paladins. Unlike those you fought on the bridge, those who had fallen only to be revived as simple thralls of the hells, this paladin was clearly something more. There was a power in him that flares up your blood, this is the source of what you could feel. The holy power that had fallen to corruption, this paladin was its vessel.  

 

His, or better to say, its face is hidden behind a steel helmet. There is a crack in the left side, revealing the figures eye staring straight toward you without even the slightest feeling of emotion. Down by his sides, two weapons rest; A magnificent sword that almost rivals the beauty of Lucina’s Ardent Nocturna, and an axe, simple and crude. That wasn't a paladin's weapon, that axe was magical, you can feel the diluted magic within it. Was it a spell? A holy spell tainted by the corruption?

 

Before you can react to its presence, the fallen paladin springs to life. It’s motionless stance erupts into a violent lunge as it brings both its axe and sword toward you with the intent to kill. The figure raises the sword in its hand, the blade resonates with the same aura that consumed the axe and prepares to cut you down.

 

Lucina dives in front of you, deflecting both weapons with Ardent Nocturna. The sword deflects both weapons, but the strength of the paladin is enough to push Lucina back. She urges you behind her, defending you like a shield. You both strike out toward for the paladin in unison, swords aiming for the paladin, but this man does holds two people off like they are nothing. His weapons are always in the right place, dodging attacks with precision before lashing out with murderous intent.

 

As your sword clashes with the paladin’s weapons, you struggle to break his defense. Despite the bulky armour, he moves quickly. There is no elegance in his attacks, only brutality as he brings down the axe and sword in a cross-motion. Lucina tries to counterattack after his strike, but he brushes off Ardent Nocturna, the mighty silver sword, with as much ease as he does reflecting your own strikes.

 

You force him back with a swipe of your shortsword. You hear a shrill shriek ringing in your ears. The air around you suddenly picks up. The harpies. The winged abominations swoop down to aid the paladin, forming a ring around you.

 

You and Lucina keep your weapons raising in front of you. You count eight harpies, with some still circling overhead. You can’t count the ones above you, the only way you know their presence is by the echoing flaps of their wings; They’ve grown more frantic, their shrieks fill the empty night air with violent shrills that echo across the forest. The paladin stands behind them, keeping his own weapons raised. You knew their plan just from their motions, they all stand ready to strike. They were going to attack as a group, the harpies would attempt to overpower you as the paladin took advantage of every opportunity his harpies would present him.

 

“Let me deal with him, Franziska.” Lucina says calmly. “You are better suited for the harpies. I can keep him busy.”

 

Lucina was right, your speed would help you avoid his strikes. Lucina could take his attacks and fight back harder. "Okay." You nod and turn your shortsword to the harpies surrounding you. Eight harpies, you deal with eight harpies.

 

Ignoring the battle between the two mighty warriors, you set about your own task of fending off the harpies. The only defense they have against you is their ability to fly off into the air, but they do not get the chance to use it. The harpies are no match for you. The ones who combat you with their razor-sharp claws are cut apart by the silver shortsword, and any that take to the sky are shot down before meeting a swift end with a cut of their throats.

 

You dispose of six of the harpies quickly. You only needed two bullets to deal with them at range. They tried to escape your range but your sword was faster than their wings. The remaining two harpies ignore their commander as Lucina gains the upper-hand in their skirmish. Her sword sparks as she clashes with the axe, attempting to overpower the paladin and disarm his weapon.

 

She didn't need you, meaning you could focus on the two remaining harpies. The mangled birds charge for you together. You defend with your shortsword and wait for the perfect opportunity to counter-attack, but the two harpies get the better of you. You mistime a strike, and as you thrust the shortsword, the second harpy attacks with its wing and sweeps at your feet with its talons, sweeping you off the ground and into the snow. 

 

The mangled birds try to claw at you while you lay there. You are disarmed from the shock of the harpy riposte, your sword falls to your sword. You reach for it as the birds move in to finish you.

 

WHACK! The harpy you fight with falls, beaten down by a weapon that was not your own. You can’t see your saviour as you quickly reach over to grab your sword. When you look back up, you see Catia already disposing of the remaining harpy with a strong blow to its head. “Franziska!” She quickly pulls you to your feet. “What’s going on!?”

 

You can’t see Lucina and the fallen paladin, but you can their weapons clashing in the shadows. The clashing of steel tells you their fight has moved around to the back of the church, out of sight from where you. "I can't explain now! Lucina needs us!" You clench your shortsword and sprint for the conflict.

 

The clashing of weapons and the crunching of snow falls silent. You feel your heart drop, you feel sick, that silence scared you more than anything. You had to get

 

Everything around you became a blur of colours, the air felt colder. One second you were standing with your shortsword raised, the next you were being launched through the air. Suddenly, you are overcome with pain, like a hammer had just been struck against your spine. You have stopped moving. You try to move but can’t. A foreign weight around your waist prevents you from moving.

 

Chains, wrapped around your body, constrict you. You look up to see long jagged branches like limbs in the night. The old oak tree. You were subdued by the fallen paladin, his spell launched you and forced a set of chains upon you to hold you to whatever you impacted with.

 

You wriggle and writhe, hoping to break free. The chains are too tight. The paladin turns his attention to the one person who he has not yet fought. Catia. She charged at the fallen paladin with her hammer high, ready to bring the weapon down. She was already charging, the fallen paladin would be too slow to react.

 

But, without resistance, without an attack, the fallen paladin defends himself by simply turning to face her.

 

The undead paladin revealed itself to Catia. Pale dead skin and dark unflinching eyes that break the paladin commanders resolve with just a mere gaze in her direction. Catia freezes with her hammer mid-swing. She gazes upon the undead with sorrowful eyes, as if she recognized the man, and felt the pain he had suffered.

 

“No…” The head paladin cannot bring herself to swing the hammer. It would’ve been a crushing blow, but she delays, the weapon in her hands shaking. “Antarus…” She says the name like she recognizes it. The name that falls from her lips has history, meaning to her. Those words stop her completely. Catia, the head paladin, falls silent.

 

This paladin had known Catia, and even in death it knew her weakness. It was the cruelest of tricks, but it was effective; immobilizing Catia almost instantly.

 

CLANG! The fallen paladin shows no mercy to the paladin who recognizes him. He thrusts the axe into Catia’s armour, the blow looks deadly, but the crumpling of steel lets you believe her armour took the brunt of that hit.

 

Catia recoils, letting out a faint groan. She drops her hammer. The fallen paladin hooks the axe around Catia’s leg and trips her to the floor. She lands with a painful thud. That sight forces you to shuffle beneath the chains again. It is more like a reflex, a twitching that grows into a violent shaking as you attempt to break the chains. No matter how hard you struggled, no matter how much your allies needed you, you cannot break the powerful spell restraining you.

 

He smiled, the undead. You couldn't see its face, but you knew he took some sick pleasure in this. He had known Catia, and it knew it had broken the strong minded paladin with its appearance alone. Catia lowers the hammer, a tear runs down her cheek, her lips quiver. The air fills with the quiet shaking of steel. “Antarus…” She lets the name fall from her quivering lips a second time.

 

The fallen paladin does not respond to his name. He takes the axe and raises it into the sky. Like an executioner looming over the criminal, the axe is raised high in his left arm, gleaming red against the moonlight like an unholy omen. He is about to bring it down with force and take the paladin's head clean off and you can do nothing but watch helplessly from your beneath the chains. 

 

But before the axe can fall and the fatal blow be dealt. Something from the shadows prevents him...

 

In an instant, with a thunderous warcry and a mighty sword in both hands. Lucina charges from darkness and brings Ardent Nocturna down onto the fallen paladin’s arm. The axe, along with the arm that wielded it, fall to the ground.

 

Everything grows silent for a moment. The fallen paladin does not scream in pain from the swords cut. From where you are, you can see the silver blade did not scorch his flesh. For the undead, or anything with demonic blood, silver burned with the heat of a thousand suns when it touched their flesh. That was the perfect opportunity to counter-attack, when their flesh was burned and the creature cannot help but recoil in pain and screech in agony, you delivered the killing blow with little resistance. But the fallen paladin did no such thing. Perhaps it was what remained of his former holy power that prevented the silver from harming him any more than a normal steel sword, but that meant that small window to attack could not be taken. The fallen paladin turns away from Catia and towards the girl who had just severed his arm.

 

Lucina readies Ardent Nocturna and moves slowly to the space between him and Catia. You want to do something, you shift violently again, trying with all your strength to break the chains that bind you, hoping that the loss of his arm would have lessened the dark magic within him. It’s no use, the chains only tighten as you struggle. Your weapons are down by your feet, a pistol and silver sword that call to you, but alas, it is a call you cannot heed.

 

The fallen paladin chuckles and stares back at Catia. A cloud of purple forms around her waist, the same chains that had bound you to the tree wrap themselves around Catia like a long metallic snake.

 

SCHWING! Lucina takes the brief window of opportunity to attack as the fallen paladin casts the chains on Catia. He dodges the greatswords thrust by merely shifting to her side. He attempts to follow up with the sword in his right hand. Lucina is able to dodge, but she finds herself too close to properly retaliate with the greatsword. She hops back and swipes upwards. The blade collides with 

 

They pause again, but only for a moment. In that moment however, you see Lucina grimace, like something has overwhelmed her. She grits her teeth and exhales, her white breath blows out in front of her. Something falls from beneath her skirt, drops like rain that melt into the snow. You couldn't believe it, but it was not surprising; The silver haired warrior, Lucina, was pissing herself.

 

Was it fear? Had she met something that made even her quiver? Or was it that the strenuous combat had finally weighed on her full bladder? It didn't matter what the answer was. Regardless, a torrent of golden water falls beneath her dress into the snow, yellowing the snow beneath her. 

 

The fallen paladin breaks their momentary stalemate. He takes the axe in his left hand and swings it sideways with all of his might at Lucina, missing the warriors neck and smashing the axe against the side of the church.

 

The clashing of steel continues. Lucina’s greatsword and the fallen paladins weapons collide again and again, their attacks growing quicker. You notice with each attack Lucina evades, she looks to be getting stronger, her eyes are glowing faintly red. It is like she gains strength with each attack, it’s almost inhuman that with each swing of the fallen paladins sword, Lucina is able to retaliate with almost twice the force. It is like she has gone berserk, flailing her weapon with no grace or strategy. She is a machine bent on killing the fallen paladin, each swing is accompanied by a violent grunt as she puts all of her strength into the swings. At one point she

 

She crashes to the floor beside the constricted paladin. Ardent Nocturna falls from her hands. A single harpy had broken from the ranks to flank Lucina, and had succeeded in stopping her. The warrior is thrown to the floor and is disarmed as her sword flies across the graveyard far from her reach.

 

It seems that fate favours the fallen paladin...for the moment.

 

As he moves in to finish her, the only girl unrestrained, his only resistance, he is caught off-guard by the most unexpected ambush. He thinks Lucina is down, and without a weapon she is easy prey. That was the mistake that made this so surprising.

 

Lucina, her eyes bright with a fiery anger, grabs the axe the paladin had dropped and charges for him without haste. The speed of her movement, the anger blaring in her eyes, it all catches the paladin who had the advantage by surprise. Lucina rises to her feet and with the axe in her left hand, she swings upwards like an uppercut. The sound of steel crumpling from the axes force fills the air. That powerful upperward swipe was executed with enough force to smash steel apart. The fallen paladin yells in agony and attempts to retaliate. Lucina does not allow him. She pulls the axe up and rives the helmet from his head, exposing the fallen paladins pale hellish flesh.

 

You see clearly he looks no different from a human. His flesh isn’t gnarled or twisted like a demons plaything. He was a human; his head was bald, his features strong and chiselled and his face as grim as a nightmare.

 

That does not stop Lucina however. His appearance, no matter how human he may remain, does not stop her brutal attack. She pulls the axe down and in a swift motion, brings her elbow up to strike the fallen paladins face. It is like a brick smashing against him. The paladins face can only move with the force of her elbow, giving Lucina the window she needed. She brings her hand back and swings the axe around, slicing the fallen paladins head clean off with a single blow.

 

The scene is gruesome, but after a taxing battle, it is Lucina who reigns victorious. The final blow was done with the swiftness of an assassin, but the brutality of a barbarian. Lucina had proven herself a formidable fighter this night, with your respect for the silver haired warrior reaching a new height as a result.

 

It’s over. The fallen paladin collapses to the ground and vanishes in a cloud of red smoke.

 

The chains that bind you to the tree vanish with him. You fall to the ground with a thud. You feel weaker. Those chains were wrapped tightly around your chest, just enough to prevent you from moving. Any tighter and they would choked the life from your body. Your back aches, as does you stomach, but you ignore it for the moment. You get back on your feet, grabbing your fallen weapons as you stand.

 

Lucina is still standing, holding herself up on her sword which is plunged into the dirt to keep her steady. Her face is red. She is panting, a bead of sweat falls from a lock of her silver hair. She looks helpless. Her legs are trembling, and after a moment, Lucina can’t keep herself propped up any longer. She falls to her knees. You urge yourself to rush over, but when you offer to help Lucina back up, she brushes away your hand. “J-just help me off my knees…” She says with a weary voice.

 

As you lift up Lucina, you notice the unmistakable scent of piss in the cold air. You had thought you could feel it as you rushed to Lucina’s aid, but now by her side, the smell is far stronger. You ignore the stench. You were used to it, and what did you expect? You saw the incident, you saw her water dribble from beneath her dress, it was not going to smell of fresh roses and sweet wine.

 

Besides, it is nothing compared to the stomach-turning stink that polluted the foul drain you relieved yourself in.  

 

The silver haired warrior is heavy. Your own fatigue makes it difficult to properly lift Lucina, but that doesn’t bother her. Once she is off her knees, Lucina falls back down, but she is still on her feet, squatting over the ground with her hands resting on the hilt of Ardent Nocturna.

 

“Thank you…” She says with an exhausted sigh.“Forgive me. That fight was far more strenuous than I expected.” Lucina doesn’t look up toward you. She focuses on the floor, breathing heavily as she recovers.

 

“That was one hell of a fight. Are you okay?” Your own voice is ragged, but you stifle it behind it a strong tone.

 

Lucina nods in response, clearly to weary to speak between her exhausted gasps for breath. She endured the battle well, but her effort showed. The beautiful dress that adorned Lucina’s armour was torn and nearly shredded. Through the tears you could see her flesh, but the most visually attracting part was around her legs. The cuts on Lucina’s dress revealed the sides of her thighs, and a clearer few of her black knickers. The one beautiful black and silver dress Lucina Lestant wore into combat was as revealing and tattered as a whores work dress.

 

You look down toward the ground, seeing a small trail of yellow snow that leads back to Lucina. She is squatting down, resting by your side without much care for the damage to her dress. It had been a heated fight, the silver haired warrior had pushed herself. As her sword clashed with the fallen paladin, her bladder must’ve begged for relief as Lucina pushed her body to its limits to keep up with the fallen paladin and unable to hold back the inevitable flood, Lucina chose to keep fighting.

 

Lucina does not look ashamed as drops of piss fall from her dress, yellowing the snow around her. It was not uncommon for fighters to soil themselves. There were times when you yourself had been forced to piss yourself in the heat of combat. Hells, you’d done a lot worse in your knickers when you were younger, arrogantly fighting bandits after a hearty breakfast and a flask or two of tea. It creeps up on you on you in combat like an assassins dagger to a nobles throat. There was nothing to be done, you couldn't dash to the privy or squat in the open to relieve yourself. You had to accept that you would flood your knickers as you fought to keep yourself alive.

 

It reminds you of something an old mentor at the Selkava always said “You’re not a fighter until you’ve pissed yourself.” He spoke those words like gospel, proudly sharing with the apprentices that you hadn’t known true combat until you had flooded your knickers. In an effort to break the awkward air, you share that anecdote with Lucina.

 

“You can wash knickers, you can wash a skirt, you can wash between your legs. You can’t wash away death.” She replies with an oddly stern tone, as if she is recalling those words like an unpleasant memory. “Help me to my feet, please.” She asks again. You pull Lucina up from the ground. “I will take care of my soiled garments once the night is done.”

 

“Catia?” You call to the head paladin. “We’re clear, there is nothing to worry about.” You look up toward the sky and notice the harpies have dispersed too. Without a commander, the remaining harpies would’ve fled. “That blow you took looked nasty. Are you okay?”

 

The head paladin nods, grimacing as she does. “My armour took most of it…” You can see just above her abdomen a large gash is cut into the steel plate. You sigh with relief knowing that it is nothing too concerning. Calling a blacksmith was better than calling a cleric.

 

“What in the hells was that thing?” Lucina runs her hand through her silver hair. “It was unlike the rest of the paladins we’ve been forced to fight.” Lucina had noticed also. The fallen paladin certainly distinguished himself from the other corrupted paladins. He wasn't a thrall, he was a commander. He didn't heed hell's call. He was hell's call.

 

You both look up at Catia, who is unaware you both are staring. You know she knows who that man is, and right now the only thing on your mind is trying to discern who he was. You’re about to ask her about the fallen paladin, but the sound of crunching snow stops you. Footsteps. Nymeria appears with three paladins. Her sword is drawn in anticipation of a fight. “Head paladin.” Nymeria lowers her weapon, frowning as she sees whatever conflict had emerged here was now over. “Holster your weapons, paladins!”

 

The head paladin does not greet Nymeria. She crosses her arms and stares up toward the steeples of the church looming overhead. “Nymeria,” Her voice is cold, hiding any fear or emotion she may was feeling. “You are to gather the injured and civilians and escort them to the town immediately.”

 

Nymeria, surprised by her commanders unexpected cold tone, nods. “Aye, Commander. But the bodies?”

 

“Myself, Dexter, and these two will handle the burning of the corpses. I will assume most of the oil is ready. We don't have to burn them all, just enough to make sure they are not a threat. Just get everybody on their feet and out of this church.” Once the paladins depart, She looks toward you with a grim expression. “I must talk with you, once our work up here is concluded.

 

End of Chapter III

 

There are currently no choices to make

 

Edited by JustClom

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Wow, this chapter has topped the others so far. The description of the fight was perfect, as was it's pacing. Damn fine job!

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