“My people, hear me now! For the skies grow red with the fires of oblivion, and the snow beneath our feet is stained with the blood of our brothers. Hear me! For I stand with you! For no matter what, we are a proud, fierce, and indomitable people. Ingramar’s spirit will never fade! For we stand with Kargathax! We stand for life! And though the southlanders might never hear of our sacrifice, we shall give ourselves willingly to defend this world we call home! To me!”


    - Boyar Anatolin Volstrid, Lord of Alsava, “Last Recorded Words From Alsava”


    <hr><hr>


    They were too late. The main siege effort was already over and the majority of Wintermount seemed to already be a charred ruin. The warhost too seemed to have mostly exited the area, only a few beastial mutants and undead remnants lingered in the ruins. Beyond them on the far side of town however, a few pockets of resistance remind, the desperate last survivors being harried by whatever was hungry enough to remain. Mila raced to rescue them and divided her strike force into three squadrons: Lieutenant Kraster and the bulk of the templars would head southeast towards the main pockets; a few templars and surviving town militia units would be in charge of holding the town square as a rally point; whilst Mila would lead the orcish honorguard towards the west.


    When her force had stumbled onto Annalise’s trail, they had only found village after village being left destroyed. Only a scant few survivors here and there remained and most had told Mila a similar story. An innumerable host of wicked creatures swarming the land, tearing everything in their path into shreds. Amongst that crowd was a legion of knights, but unlike those of the kingdom or the templars, they were clad in obsidian black, with armour that sported all manner of disturbing protrusions and ornaments. Within their ranks was a smaller cadre of civilians being herded along like cattle. But above them all stood their leader, a masked monster that seemed to be directly everything, with one key physical feature that made Mila’s stomach churn. It stood on only one leg and used a large bow as its crutch. Anna… what happened to you.


    The trail had led her force to Wintermount, the most likely bastion of civilisation for a warhost to stop along ‘The Dragon’s Trail’ across the mountains and in the Northern Meltonian border. She had hoped that perhaps its walls or some sort of garrison could hold long enough until her forces arrived, allowing them to scrub out the darkness with divine fury. Seeing the burned husk of a town, she could only lament that the frightful weather had slowed her advance just long enough to miss Annalise’s war party by no more than a few days.


    Her doubts however, would have to wait. Down the ruined street was a small undulating mass of monsters, rejects left behind by the warhost to feast to their heart''s content on whatever''s left. Her advance had been stealthy enough that they hadn’t noticed yet and Mila turned to find Brushkol grinning at her. The beasts were too busy beating away on a makeshift barricade that blocked the end of the street to pay attention behind them, and looked likely to continue that way as long as their meals remained behind the barricade. Knowing this, the two exchanged a few gestures at the monsters before coming to an agreement on a battle plan. The creatures hides were tough, but pierceable by regular weapons with enough weight thrown behind the strike, much less an orc. They could also be burnt off with divine light and left a writhing mass of agony, allowing an even more wholesale slaughter of the foul monstrosities..


    She pointed at Karzuld and then at herself, the tracker quickly falling in behind her as the remaining two held their positions at the street corner. Words might’ve been needed to motivate a beleaguered human militia, but these were orc warriors, and the presence of a good fight was all the incentive they needed. Mila glided forward over the bloodied streets like a ghost, her feet barely touching the ground anymore than they needed to. Karzuld followed close behind, his arm muscles tensing as he readied a javelin. Reaching only a few houses away, Mila paused and held her hand out, the tip of the javelin making contact not long after.


    “Qusas Heinaotus Helaotux.” She murmured under her breath.


    She could feel the arc of energy travel from within the depths of her soul outwards and into the tip of the javelin. The sudden shift of mana in the air around them earned them a few guttural growls from the creatures as they sensed a threat. Mila turned to Karzuld and nodded before looking back down the street. She held up her hand and did a countdown for the other two. Five. Four.


    More of the monsters turned around.


    Three.


    A sizeable chunk still beat at barricades at the end of the street, whilst others simply feasted on fallen defenders.


    Two.


    Mila watched the javelin sail from Karzuld’s hands, the projectile arcing through the air with equal parts grace and power. Like an avenging angel filled with divine fury, it seemed ready to smash into the rear ranks of the creatures.


    Mila concentrated on the javelin up until the moment it seemed to land. Then all it took was one word, “Ignisahg.” She uttered. The mana launched from her fingertips and connected with that of the javelins, as the intentions of the user and spell transferred from one to the other, she could feel that she had succeeded.


    One.


    A burst of divine light lanced out in all directions from the javelin, the beams sizzling flesh and putrid fur anywhere it touched. Monsters screamed in fear, agony or panic as their bundled up nature meant a sea of confusion the moment panic set in. Without wasting a second, ferocious roars echoed from behind Mila and both Brushkol and Marduk charged forward, their weapons raised and bloodlust in their eyes. Karzuld held two smaller orcish combat spears in his hands and broke out of cover, joining his brethren in their assault. Having assessed the situation and seeing that the monsters had ironically boxed themselves between two buildings, the makeshift barricade and the orcs, Mila pulled out her sword and joined the attack. There would be no escape for these foul servants of evil.


    Brushkol slammed into the mass first, his war axe cleaving apart two of the creatures in one fell swoop. The sight of their blood and bones spilling out seemed to delight the orc to no end, Brushkol letting out another ferocious roar as he plunged deeper into the horde of monstrosities. Then came the shield bash, an act that normally would stun an opponent at best. But Marduk was a battle hardened defender of the tribe and the hapless creature in his path was simply flattened and splattered across the tribal shield. His other arm held a raised halberd as he simply rushed forward in a line, ramming his way through the horde in a one orc stampede. Karzuld meanwhile acted almost like what Mila would expect of a templar, precise but powerful thrusts with his spears as he dispatched the monsters one by one.


    Mila herself was no slouch either, and she wielded her blade with finesse as she thrusted, cut, and slashed her way through the monsters in front of her. Claws, teeth, bones and more struck back out at them, the creatures momentarily caught off guard as they screeched horrid noises all around them. The delay was only momentary however, and as the monsters soon realized what was happening, vicious snarls became the response as battle was joined. Mutated creatures caught somewhere between an animal and a human turned their feral eyes upon the newcomers, one trying to pounce at her only to be brought down by part of Brushkol’s swing.


    Unwilling to let herself be completely eclipsed by the honorguard, she snarled and pushed herself deeper into the horde. She quickly found willing opponents as three of the creatures made a futile attempt to surround her before leaping forward with inhuman speeds. Training took hold and she managed to pivot just enough to avoid the first strike and let the second impale itself onto her blade. Tearing it out milliseconds before the third creature charged, she managed to position herself just out of reach and smashed the pommel into one of its four eyes. The moment it recoiled and howled in pain, Mila arced her blade back and slashed straight through it, decapitating the thing.


    The first monster snarled in annoyance and attacked once more, inciting a few more to turn their attention towards her. This time she met the attack, leaping at the monster as it charged her and changed positions last minute, the creature’s scythe-like right hand barely grazing her armor as she managed to latch onto it with her free hand. Utilizing the monster’s own momentum, she let it drag her along closer to its allies and then let go, taking the momentary surprise to cleave another two of the creatures down. Before the first monster could react, she pierced straight through its skull, boney fragments interspersed with rotted brain matter spilling out as pulled her sword back out.


    Mila heard an ear shattering shriek as the four now three eyed monster locked its gaze directly onto her. Readying herself, she was caught off guard as a creature behind her leapt directly onto her, sending her skidding along the ground as the surprise and weight overwhelmed her. Annoyed and a little bit pained, Mila growled and leaned upwards against the creature, pressing her body against it. Not allowing it a chance to react, she threw her weight into a roll and surprised the creature by forcing both of them onto their sides. She slammed her elbow into where the head should be an momentary free herself from its grasp. Disgusted, she plunged her blade deep into its skull and stirred the components within with anger before she pulled it back out. With no room for reprieve, her instincts took over and she dashed backwards as a bone spike cut through the air where she stood moments before.


    To her horror, the three eyed monster evidently felt angry as well. For as it glared at her with hatred, it split open its entire throat to reveal an elongated mouth as it screeched at her. It charged forward once more with the two boney lances that made up its arms swinging wildly in an attempt to run her through. Dodging the strikes, Mila squared off against the creature as it finished the charge and turned to face her once again. Letting out another shriek, this time it attacked with almost pinpoint precision and Mila backed off slightly, allowing it to advance. When its bone lances drew but an arm’s length away, she let her muscles slack and dropped to the floor, with only her sword arm holding firm. The creature passed over her and stopped, staggering for a few steps before its insides slowly flowed out of it like a putrid offal stew. Giving out one last rage filled shriek, the creature fell onto its own insides and perished.


    Mila grimaced at the foul putrid odor she had unintentionally released but had no time to wallow in her disgust. The others. She got back on her feet ready for a scuffle, only to find the battle had been all but won. Only a handful of monsters remained and evidently, during her short duel with the three eyed monster, the surviving townsfolk had sallied out from the barricades to aid them. Mila grunted to herself and kicked at a nearby monster, catching the creature off guard mid fight with Brushkol. The one little stagger it made proved to be the last. The orc delivered a brutal cut that separated the creature in two, the bloodied mess flopping to the street like a wet rag.


    “Dirty move.” Brushkol grinned at her.


    “Didn’t realize we were here to fight fair.” She scowled.


    “There should still be honor in battle.” He shouted enthusiastically, smashing another creature with the flat side of his axe before cleaving into it viciously that the creature’s skull turned into a pulpified mess.


    “You keep thinking that. Maybe tell them to stop trying to eat you first though.”


    “Heh. Perhaps.”


    The two regarded the battlefield for a moment, taking stock of their current situation as Karzuld and the militia mopped up the last of the monsters. Marduk had dutifully but subtly assumed a position between them and the townsfolk, ready to shield them in case of an unprovoked assault. Good lad. With the cessation of battle, the town’s miltia congratulated each other only to quickly tense back up at the presence of three menacing orc warriors that stood at least a head above the tallest of them. Though they hadn’t pointed their weapons at them yet, judging by their hand tightly gripping their makeshift weapons, Mila suspected that it would soon change.


    “Who the hells are you people and why did you bring the greenskins here?” A particularly brave soul stepped forward to challenge them.


    “Well?” Brushkol looked expectantly at her.


    Mila just rolled her eyes and sighed, “Here I was, thinking we’d get to rest a bit.” She mumbled as Brushkol grinned even wider. She strode past the countless monstrous corpses and moved to Marduk’s side. She offered the shieldbearer an appreciative grunt and he responded in kind with a thankful nod. If only all conversations could be like this. With another sigh, she cleared her throat and finally drew the attention of the townspeople to her, their eyes widening at the sight of such a young girl standing side by side with the orc.


    “Attention, people of Wintermount. I am… Inquisitor Lyudmila and we are here to aid you. Our people are sweeping the other parts of the town as we speak. So I hope you can forgive us for our late arrival.” She bowed her head.


    A tense pause soon followed, the subdued but panicked murmuring of the townspeople amongst themselves the only thing intruding on the moment. Hushed whispers turned to heated discussions as they started pointing between themselves and Mila’s group. She counted half a dozen souls that had sallied forth and perhaps a dozen more behind the barricades. Fearing that their deliberations would take too long, Mila stepped forward once more, her movements attracting their attention instantly.


    Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    “People of Wintermount, I understand your hesitation. But we still do not know how far these creatures have spread. If you’re willing, I have my command post set up in the town square and would greatly appreciate it if we were to continue discussions there instead.” She stated.


    Silence greeted her and for just a moment, she wondered if she had offended someone when a snigger broke out from one of the townspeople. Looking over, she found one semi competently equipped militia woman performing a pathetic looking salute.


    “Appreciate a discussion? Hah!” The lady snorted, “My dear, we’re more appreciative of you arriving when you did. The town square then? If ye don’t mind, we’ll collect what we can and head over. Just needa minute or two, right?” She turned back to the other folks.


    A low murmur of agreement broke out amongst them and though they were still wary of the orcs, Mila could tell the fighting spirit had also left them. Fair enough.


    “I’ll give you five minutes to grab what you need.” Mila began, “After that, we’ll be moving towards the square. Worry not, the orcs and I will escort you. But, if you have any questions, save it till then.” She barked her orders.


    “The orcs…” Someone else muttered.


    “What if this isn’t enough?” Another person voiced their worries.


    But before there were any more doubts, the militia woman clapped her hands together and straightened her posture, distracting the townsfolk. “Of course lady inquisitor!” The woman grinned, “You hear that everyone? We made it! Let’s get ready to move!”


    A loud cheer finally erupted and Mila could feel the last of the tension evaporate. Thankful for the guardswoman, she herself let out a short breath only to find herself startled by a poke in the back. She turned to find Brushkol with a raised eyebrow and a smug look on his face.


    “Yeah?” Mila asked.


    “Well handled.”


    “Tch, I don’t need a compliment.” She grunted before letting out a soft chuckle, “Though it is appreciated.”


    “Heh, stubborn little human.” Brushkol smirked.


    “Maybe I am, but regardless, we’re not done yet. So try to focus a little?” Mila scowled, but a friendly one. Still she couldn’t shake the strange feeling that now sat in the back of her mind. Why do I feel so disappointed? Annalise, what the hells are you planning?


    <hr><hr>


    “Lieutenant, report.” Mila ordered.


    “Of course Lady Inquisitor.” Kraster returned with a snappy salute, “After combing through the south and western districts, we’ve been able to secure about roughly a hundred fifty souls so far. We’ve been informed of an enclave further to the north west and so I sent Sergeant Loue and his squad to investigate while I escorted everyone else here. Sergeant Boden is debriefing with the civies.”


    “Excellent work, lieutenant. Talk to the militia and see what they need. We’ll likely have to break back into Melton to drop the civilians off, so check around and make sure we have enough for the trek.”


    “At once, inquisitor.” He saluted.


    Mila saluted back and watched as he left the tent, taking care to draw the tent flaps close behind him. Once certain that he was suitably far away, she sunk back into her chair and let out a wordless sigh. She rested her head between her hands and tried to stop herself from succumbing to exhaustion. Without the adrenaline of battle or the worry of a fight coming up, her reserve strength found itself waning rapidly. The templars were trained for this and the orcs were orcs. She knew she served well in her role and that Lady Serilda’s tutelage had been invaluable, but she also found herself at her wits end after the almost three week long northern expedition. At first she had felt anger, burning rage filled anger at the sight of her homeland being ravaged. Then it was sombreness at the losses and the dead, the memories that stuck within her feeling all too familiar. Now she was just exhausted, two weeks of hard marching through frigid terrain only to find village after village destroyed, and even Wintermount burnt to the ground. To say she was demoralised was putting it lightly.


    She clasped her hands together and closed her eyes. Goddess grant me strength and preserve these people. For the suffering they have experienced and the struggles they will face, I do not know if I have the power to guide them to safety. And for those who purposefully bring evil to this world, may your fury burn away their sins. Blessed by the stars. Finishing her prayer, she roused herself from her chair and walked outside.


    Townspeople huddled together in small groups as Kraster’s templars guarded the approaches. Dozens more townies lingered around a makeshift triage tent where two overworked templar healers tried their best to mend wounds ranging from critical to the mundane. The rest of the crowd gathered within the town hall’s remaining half, the other section having already turned into charred rubble. There, they were organised by the surviving militia commanders, and given a small window to recuperate from the hellish few days before they would have to move again.


    “Inquisitor!” Someone yelled and Mila perked up at once.


    Spinning around she found one of the templars waving her over to the town hall and hurried to meet them. Out of the corner of her eye she found her honorguard already on the way from wherever they were lurking in, as if they had materialized out of nowhere to rendezvous with her.


    “What is it?” Mila demanded.


    “Madam inquisitor, we’ve asked the townspeople about if anyone might know about what the monsters wanted, and someone said they might have a clue. Figured you’d want to hear this yourself.” The templar responded.


    “Excellent work, go tell Kraster where I’ll be.”


    “Yes, lady inquisitor!”


    She stepped into the remnants of the town hall and found herself the center of attention as weary townspeople all offered small nods or looks of thanks every step of the way. She snaked her way through the people, trying her best to maintain a positive expression as she shook their hands or smiled back at them. Only with the appearance of Brushkol behind her did the crowd seem a little more reluctant to interrupt her work. At the end of the hallway, one of the town guards gestured towards a room, looking a little more apprehensive when he sighted the orc. The two ignored his worried expression and entered the room, finding the guardswoman from earlier alongside an elderly peasant and another templar.


    “Lady Inquisitor.” The templar saluted.


    “Sergeant Boden.” Mila acknowledged, “What’s the fuss about?”


    “You two tell her what you told me.” The sergeant looked at the other two.


    “Of course! Anything for the hero of the hour.” The guardswoman smiled at Mila, though she could feel something hollow being the guard’s gaze, “Corporal Hattie at your service.”


    “Alderman Ealdor, your worship.” The older man bobbed his head, “You have my thanks for saving us.”


    “No need to thank us. Just doing as the Goddess commands.” Mila returned their bows. Her eyes scanned the half torn map of Cyndralia that they were looking at and suddenly felt a lot more interested. Could they have… “So what’s this about”


    “They think they might know about our little… conundrum.” Boden grunted.


    “How so?”


    “Alderman. Corporal.” Boden beckoned.


    “Right. Forgive me for being a little frank,” Hattie began, “but we know we aren’t your first target.”


    Mila grimaced at the accusatory words, they weren’t wrong and that’s what hurt the most. That there were civilians potentially alive and they were saved only through sheer happenstance that her force had arrived on time. If only Seri’s people got to me earlier… then… focus.


    “So I took the liberty of asking the sergeant here about who you might be chasing.” Hattie continued, “His description of some one legged freak fit what I saw when they overran our positions at the gates.” Her expression suddenly darkened, “I… I wasn’t brave enough to stay but… I did catch sight of the creature, and the knights that accompanied it.”


    Mila just nodded, motioning for her to continue.


    “Right, so…” Hattie frozen, almost as if uncertain how to continue.


    “What she’s trying to say is that she’s sorry, your worship. She’s ashamed that she was so weak.” The alderman spoke on her behalf with complete frankness, “I hope you can forgive her for her cowardice.”


    “That’s a matter for her to deal with herself.” Brushkol uncharacteristically interrupted, “Focus on the matter at hand.”


    His deep growling voice seemed to stun everyone but Mila, and when she snuck a peak at his expression, she could see the hints of disapproval etched onto his face. Hoping that things wouldn’t escalate, Mila coughed to regain everyone’s attention and pointed to the map.


    “Brushkol’s right, we’re not the ones who you should apologize to. You fought at the end there, to protect the others, they didn''t seem to mind. That’s all that matters to us now. So please, do continue.”


    Hattie’s expression seemed to drop and her feigned cheerful demeanour seemed to vanish completely, leaving behind a gloomy expression. “Anyway… where was I? Right! The creatures! After I fell back with a few others, we managed a fighting retreat past the alleyway to our left. At that time, there were enough of us to hold them back for a bit while we ushered civilians away. It was then I saw a few of the armoured creatures and that one legged monster cut their way into the town hall.”


    “Soooo… they sieged a building? I’m guessing there’s more to this?” Mila pressed the locals.


    “Umm…” Hattie turned an uncertain glance at the alderman who just smiled pleasantly in response.


    “Indeed.” Ealdor answered, “See, while I don’t know what exactly happened here since I was uptown when the siege began. I do know that the room next door used to be a storage room. Whilst at first I thought nothing of it. After hearing Hattie’s account and your soldier’s tale, I decided to see if they had looted anything.” The old man chuckled to himself, “Of course, half the building was gone so I didn’t know what they truly wanted. But, in the storage room there was a map cabinet, and though most of it got damaged or destroyed in the fighting. When I went to check on it, I found only three specific maps missing. One marked with our town’s trade routes, one with general annotations and one of Traxia and beyond to the east. I remember all of it distinctly and managed to find this copy of our Cyndralian map. Err… as you can see, a little torn, but here.” He pointed at a circled area on the map, “This is where your soldier thinks they went.


    “Huh.” Mila furrowed her brows, “Interesting, and how can you even remember such things so well?”


    The old man grinned and Mila suddenly felt as if she had stumbled into a trap. “Why, we had labels for each of the maps of course.” He burst out into a chuckle. “Sorry, your worship.” He unconvincingly apologised.


    Mila had to hold back her scowl and rolled her eyes, “Of course. Sergeant Boden?”


    “Right, inquisitor... Based on what the alderman told us, we suspect that they’re bound for somewhere east of Traxia or Traxia itself by nautical means. Of those eastern territories there is; Potomia, Gratia, Zephyr, Ostia, and Lucuria.” He pointed to the circle on the map, “As you can see here, taking into account realistic estimates, I’ve ruled out Lucuria and Ostia due to their distance from the coast though the possibility is there. Zephyr is dense jungle and would be ideal to lose a pursuit in, but that seems a bit excessive. Traxia seems rather unlikely due to the imperial military and the church, though that could be what they are aiming to target. That leaves Gratia and Potomia as the most likely destinations they’re heading towards. Both given the proximity and accessibility to the coast.” Boden replied.


    Mila nodded, excitement slowly pushing back her fatigue as the light of hope began to shine once more. “Gratia and Potomia, huh. But why would anyone go there? Potomia’s been chafing for a war against Traxia for the last half decade so who would be that stupid as to attack them? And Gratia’s a shithole embroiled in a decade… long… civil… war…”


    Mila felt the moment that everything seemed to click inside her head. Naval travel, Gratia. Abducting villagers for a crew, seafaring vessels to avoid our land based pursuit. A nation in perpetual civil war. Her eyes lit up as even Boden seemed to catch onto the implications.


    “And a shithole where we ignore all their atrocities because no one cares enough anymore.” Boden whispered.


    “A perfect place to hide one’s dark plans.” Brushkol finished.


    The three traded pensive glances with each other before Mila’s expression dropped into a deeper scowl. Fuck, Gratia? That’s a damned world away.


    “Well then.” Mila sighed, “Seems like we have something to plan for at least. Provided they actually go there.”


    “It’s the best lead we have, ma''am.”


    “Blasted hells, I suppose it’ll have to do for now. Alderman, corporal. Thank you for the help. We’ll handle it from here.” Mila lowered her head respectfully.


    “Oh-hoh, the young’uns taking charge. Certainly an inspiring sight.” Ealdor chucked dryly, “But ack, who am I to judge. After all… it’s not like I’ve got anything left now… Wintermount… tsk. C’mon, Hattie, let’s get out of their hair. They seem busy enough.”


    “I-I… but oh… okay then.” Hattie hesitantly followed the alderman, “Umm… sorry once more, and thank you for the help. Good luck inquisitors.”


    “Likewise.”


    The three waited for them to leave before Mila pursed her lips and looked to Boden. “Get Kraster and update him on what we found. Tell him I need someone to take a fast horse and inform Marrest of what we’ve come up with.”


    “By your command, inquisitor.” Boden saluted as he left.


    Left with just the orc, Mila found him studying the map intently. Curious, she watched as his eyes traced every border, river, terrain feature with a darkening scowl.


    “See something else?” She asked.


    “Perhaps… nothing good though.”


    “How so?”


    “This map is accurate, yes?”


    “More or less.”


    “Then I believe I have also discovered what the high chief is planning.” Brushkol snarled.


    “Explain.”


    “See here?” He pointed at Volksgrad, “I believe the high chief intends to take this area and then conduct raids down into here until he secures it.” His finger slid down to Carrador, “His dream of a true kingdom run by him. The fool.”


    “Shit.” Mila swore, “Reckon he’s gonna be a problem too?”


    “Guaranteed.”


    Mila scowled and just closed her eyes. Great, we haven’t even found Annalise yet and here comes another crisis just around the corner. Goddess preserve us and may the stars light our way. “Guess we got our work cut out for us then. Enemies left and right? Gonna be pretty hard to miss.”


    “Heh. I suppose that’s also true.”


    “Now c’mon, still got a city to clear.”