Reaper and the Black Dogs

by ApostleOfWrath

As the war with the Dark Queen nears its end, the Goddess Reborn gathers her forces to deliver a decisive blow that will put an end to the Dark Queen's reign of terror. In the midst of gathering her forces, a mysterious stranger is brought to her gates with a dire warning that there is a greater evil lurking in the darkness.

4. The Sword of a Goddess

Author's Notes: So first of all, I am terrible at math and greatly overestimated how much of this I had written out. That being said, I still have a bit before I run out of already written stuff, so I can keep a decent pace going for a little while longer. Secondly, for those who had seen my other profile, here is my obligatory GW rant:THE SPRING FAQ IS A COMPLETE MESS. "HEY, LET'S MAKE THE DARK ELDAR THE ONLY CODEX THAT FOCUSES ON GIMMICKY, FLUFFY BUT BAD RULES. BY THE WAY, THEY'RE TOTALLY ILLEGAL NOW. YOUR ENTIRE CODEX IS BULLSHIT. WHAT'S THAT? WE TELL YOU TO TAKE MULTIPLE PATROLS THAT NEARLY EQUATE TO STANDARD FORCE ORG CP? FUCK YOU! WE GAVE BATTALIONS MORE CP, SO YOUR ILLEGAL LIST IS EVEN SHITTIER THAN IT ALREADY WAS! WANT TO TAKE A BRIGADE OF WYCH CULT? TOO BAD, THEY DON'T HAVE A HEAVY SUPPORT OPTION! WANT TO TAKE SCOURGES? THEY GET ZERO BENEFITS FROM YOUR ARMY! WANT TO FIGHT PSYKERS? NO! GET SMITED OFF THE BOARD BECAUSE 1 DIFFICULTY PER SMITE MEANS FUCK-ALL WHEN THE SMITE-ABUSING ARMIES HAVE REROLLS AND BONUSES TO CASTING!"

God damn, 8th edition is such a clusterfuck and it isn't even a year old. I can't even play standard games anymore because it's too much effort to keep up with the SIX GODDAMN BOOKS needed to play a single army list.

(deep breath)

K, that should be all the ranting you'll see in this story. On to more productive things, a couple notes for the readers:

1) the storyline will not be changed too much, other than some events being swapped about in the timeline. I don't plan on completely upsetting the world's balance, though I am definitely considering taking a page from The Night Unfurls and perhaps having a small Inquisition created. But that would most likely be as far as it goes.

2) Armor. It's a thing. Outside of armor, the gals of Kuroinu are basically as is. Whatever, it's based on a H-game. But in armor, picture actual armor. Last chapter I told someone I basically think of Claudia's heavy plate as Reinhart-level. She'll have a lighter armor set for travel and such, but the fighters will be wearing full wargear (except Maia. That's kind of her personality is a light fighter)if you have any questions you want addressed outside of specific review responses, let me know via PM or in reviews. I will try to answer broad questions like above, going forwards.

Reviewers-

Sociopathic-Anarchist- The power sword is going to be his ace-in-the-hole for now. And the sidearm (laspistol for sheer sake of him needing to be able to fire it more than five times throughout the story) is going to be his "i-win" button. As for storyline changes, he isn't going to dramatically upheave the whole world, but there might be an Inquisition in Eostia's future.

Great Celestial Dragon- Orks would probably be confused for a minute, forget why they were there, and default to "krumpin' 'eads" mode

Abdiel Amaro- Well, I'm not going super fetish on this one. There'll be plenty of adult content, but I have zero interest in going into the really creepy stuff. As for my other account, just google "Louk Shannegh" and "fanfic." You'll find it pretty easily.

JauneBrando- Yeah, naruto fans seem to spread across fanfic like a virus. They're everywhere, and usually pretty trash. Not that I'm firing shade, but there are so many carbon-copy Naruto cringe stories out there

ThatOneGuyUpstairs- Yup. Way ahead of you on that one. This story is going to have plenty of the standard plot in there, but all the bad guys (and perhaps even some of the good guys) are going to get their special brand of Slaaneshi sauce

SomeGuyOverHere- Louk definitely is a constantly evolving character. In my plans for him, I certainly want to flesh out the 'early years' of his immortality. Because, let's face it. NOBODY should adjust well to suddenly being immortal. There should be a hell of a long period of uncertainty, angst, and anger issues. Even from an 'adult.' As for the others, it's all about making it believable, just like Louk and Auriel. I enjoy fleshing out the lore of whatever I look at. And Vult, well, he's basically Guts from Berserk, so I more or less just imagined how devastating it would be for Guts to have a Griffith-level fall (Fuck that guy, btw). And the daemon makes it all work together.

Hope y'all enjoy!

The White Citadel, Ken

The Shields had assembled.

Celestine Lucross sat at the head of her Council table, clothed in her regal white gown, expression neutral and carefully schooled as she looked out at her assembled commanders. It had been five years since the Seven Shields had entertained counsel together. The duties of governorship and war had weighed on them all. Four sat on her right, three on her left, each joined in low conversation with another or busy eyeing those around the table. They were a grand assemblage, the most powerful women of Eostia, each a leader of men and accomplished in their particular trade. Knights, rulers, mystics, and priestesses.

To her immediate right, Claudia Levantine, the commander of the Dawn Templars, sat in poised silence, her hands clasped and set on the table's edge. It was easy to overlook her matronly visage when dressed in full armor, her heavy plate burying her loveliness behind its steel barriers. Bereft of her wargear, she often wore simple, undecorated clothing more befitting a well-to-do commoner than a noble. A simple golden blouse emphasized her lovely blue eyes, its modestly cut cleavage reminding all present that Claudia was a woman blessed with handsome charm, while not drawing scandalous attention to her feminine physique. A black ribbon held her long auburn hair in a tight bun, allowing only carefully presented locks to frame her strong face. Claudia had long been Celestine's right hand, a voice of reason and benevolence at peace and of swift determination at war. Her marriage to Klaus Levantine had caused a scandal in the nobility; the scholarly son of Grave Levantine had none of the outward qualities they had expected in her choice of a partner. He was sickly, weak, and mild-mannered. Celestine knew well how dearly the two were in love, even after years of heartbreak over their inability to conceive. It was a sore topic for Claudia, and one that Celestine had resolved to never burden her friend with.

The next of the Shields was Alicia Arcturus. Young, brash, and eager to please, Alicia wore the responsibilities of her position well despite the enormous pressure resting on her shoulders. The commandery of Eostia's second most powerful order of knights was no easy task, and the blonde knight applied her own measure of responsibility far beyond what others had in the past. Still, her inclusion in the Shields had not been questioned. Many had applauded the choice, glad to see a member of the famed Arcturus family held close to Celstine's counsel. To her credit, Alicia had accepted the mantle with grace and acuity, sliding into her role with the same intensity she approached all aspects of her life. Her command of the North had kept it well protected. Her only fault, in Celestine's mind, was the girl's utter lack of interest in the very thing that plagued her so. Carrying on the Arcturus name. Celestine was that Alicia would find a good man in time; plenty of aspiring nobleman sought her affections on a regular basis. But the girl would have none of it; nothing mattered to her except her duty and her cousin. In accordance with such motivation, she had chosen to wear armor to the meeting. Not her full ensemble, but the trimmed-down breastplate that bore her family crest and elegant greaves that clicked together under the table. The ceremonial armor was not intended for wartime use, though like any armor it had much to offer for protecting its wearer. But this was her way of acknowledging the subdued nature of this meeting. The girl's blue dress matched nicely with the silver-lined armor, cheerfully visible while not stealing attention.

Beside Alicia, the youngest member of the Shields remained utterly still, eyes closed in meditation. Kaguya, maiden shrine priestess of Thorn, was a quiet and taciturn member of the Shields. Though the youngest and most recent addition to the Shields, Kaguya radiated a calming peacefulness that eased their most heated debates and soothed the most ruffled tempers. Were it not for the demonic incursions affecting her homeland, Kaguya most certainly would not have come, even at Celestine's request. The priestess cared little for the greater world; her only concern was in serving her god and aiding her fellow priestesses. Even this far from her temple, she wore her red and white robes of office with pride, her short black hair spilling form under her elaborate headdress of office. Even to Celestine, Kaguya was a mystery. The god she served was as strange and mysterious as the newcomer, yet Celestine had found no worry or fear of its worship. She was not, after all, a jealous person. As long as her people prospered, she was content. With luck, Kaguya would soon be able to return to Thorn and never need be called away again. Though Celestine would miss seeing the young woman, Kaguya's only love lay in Thorn, alongside her priestesses.

Last on that side, Maia the Mercenary Queen fiddled with a dagger, turning the blade over and over in her hands. A petulant grimace had spilled onto her face, and she cast brooding eyes over at the newcomer sitting at the far end of the table. Celestine had been informed of the duel between Vult and Reaper earlier in the morning; those in attendance had spoken favorably of it and considered it to be one of the greatest displays of swordsmanship Eostia had seen in some time. That being said, something there had disturbed the redheaded warrior. Maia's normally garrulous and carefree nature was muffled, replaced by this dourness that was entirely out of character for her. Her shaggy hair fluttered limply as she shook her head at some unseen question, offering a shrug that pulled her padded red shirt dangerously open. Outside of battle, she rarely tied it closed. When Celestine had asked, the mercenary only replied that she liked the air on her chest. It was one of the many things about Maia that Celestine was sure she would never understand.

Across from Maia, Vult filled his chair with the confidence of a man among peers. Leaning easily onto one armrest, he nursed a crystal glass of wine and exchanged words with Maia, casually discussing their recent battles and excursions. The mercenary general of the Black Dogs looked none the worse for wear, considering his duel earlier. A simple bandage on his arm was the only sign he had seen combat, much less had his blood drawn. Always cheerful and upbeat, Vult was perhaps the most relaxed in the room. There was little that bothered the man, other than the thought of missing a battle. Here, with the entirety of the Shields assembled, battle was on the horizon. He could smell it, and that excited him. It was no secret that he boasted his Black Dogs could, if assembled all together, best the Dark Queen's whole legion. That boast might be put to the test soon. More than half the Black Dogs were scattered about Eostia, either on guard duties or assisting the various lords of the land. Vult's mercenaries were consummate professionals, and his officer corps were held to the highest standards. A band of Black Dogs could be trusted no matter where they went. That was one of the things Celestine admired most about the man. Vult had fashioned Eostia's rabble of mercenaries into a formidable, trustworthy fighting force. After Olga's legion was broken, Celestine felt confident she could leave Eostia in the care of the Black Dogs with nothing to fear.

Luu-Luu sat next to Vult, her height boosted by a pillow so that the diminutive halfling could be seen as easily as the others. Though small in stature, barely reaching Vult's chest, Luu-Luu had a passionate heart and the fiery disposition of a person three times her size. The leader of Ansur was a master inventor, a ferocious warrior, and one of the staunchest allies Celestine had ever met. She protected her fellow Shields and her people with the ferocity of a mother bear, and was always quick to offer her support, as well as go marching into battle alongside an army of beastkin, halflings, and the exotic warmachines her people made. The march of the halfling army was always loud, chaotic, and brutally effective. Luu-Luu's leadership anchored the eastern regions, and she made it a point of pride to always be the first to muster her forces when called upon. Sensing that another such mustering was on the way, she had arrived with the news that a full battalion of her people were currently already in muster, preparing for whatever plans Celestine had come up with. The fierce little halfling leader had arrived in typical fashion, riding a steam-powered airship that barely avoided crashing into the walls of the White Citadel as she wrestled with its controls. It was hard to take Luu-Luu seriously at a glance, Celestine admitted. Her ranting and raving could easily mistake her for a petulant child, but behind her floppy green hat and the green robe of the Ansur Engineering Guild was an intelligence that awed even Celestine.

Finally, of course, there was Prim. Demure and meek at Celestine's left, her pretty pink hair a delight to see as the princess of Feoh delicately picked up her glass and sipped at the morning wine. Her spirits had recovered since her arrival; Vult had a way of chasing away her concerns and fears whenever they were together. Beautiful and innocent, Prim's presence always soothed Celestine's own worries; the girl was Celestine's pride and joy. Seeing such a young thing handle so much, wearing the crown of Feoh with the dignity and grace of a ruler much older, encouraged Celestine that there was hope for all. If the young princess of Feoh could be such a successful ruler, how could they all not find success in their paths? Truly, Prim was adored by them all, excepting Kaguya perhaps, and that was only for the woman's lack of interest in all things outside of her temple. Maia doted on the princess like a little sister. Claudia mentored her and taught her as a mother might. Alicia was… well, the cousins were as close as twins. Luu-Luu loved to joke that Prim should have been born a halfling, so that the two of them could make wonderful inventions together. And Vult… Celestine had been aware for some time that the hardened mercenary general, for all of his flirtations, was as protective of Prim as any of them. He loved the princess like a brother, and could be counted on to drop whatever he was doing should word reach him that Prim was in danger or threatened. He had scared off more than one unwanted suitor from her doorstep, without her knowledge. It warmed Celestine's heart to see Prim's serene smile return.

Finally, sitting quietly at the end, hands hidden under the table and face shadowed by his hood, Louk Shannegh sat waiting the Council meeting. His presence had drawn more than a few questioning looks. Even Vult had been surprised by the man's entrance. He was neither a Shield nor a commander. When Celestine had indicated for the man to take a seat, the whispers had started immediately. He was the stranger, the odd man out. By inviting him to the Council without their knowledge, Celestine knew she had put them at a disadvantage. That had not been her intent, of course. His sudden arrival had thrown them all off balance. As he had claimed last night, however, he would offer his services in this upcoming endeavor. The services of a man who could bring Vult to the arena, and then come out standing, were not to be sniffed at. Though she had only heard the reports, the consensus of Reaper, Louk Shannegh, was that he was a terrific fighter.

She knew he was so much more than that. It was a pity she could not tell them all. They would not believe it. They could not believe it. She hardly did herself, even with what he had told her and what she had seen when she looked into his eyes.

Those eyes. A flicker of trepidation caressed her spine as Louk Shannegh lifted his head back, the shadow retreating just enough to reveal the cold, humorless eyes that had chilled her to the core on the balcony. There was no malice in his gaze, only the weary hardness of a man who had seen far too much blood. That was what it was, she had finally realized as sleep had claimed her. He was not a man of cruel intentions; he was a man who had bathed in the darkness and sadness of a cruel world for so long he did not know anything else.

Celestine had promised herself that she would help him. Though she did not know how to go about doing that, she would strive to bring him back, to show him a world of light and happiness that might ease the anger and sorrow from his soul. It would not be easy, but she was the Goddess Reborn. It was her duty, and she would not shirk from it.

"Friends" she announced, drawing all conversation to a close. Her Shields turned to regard her expectantly. Reaper shifted ever so slightly taller, indicating his attention. For a moment, she remained silent, looking over her counselors with the twinge of uncertainty that always came just before delivering her plan. "Friends, I am thankful you were able to come so quickly. I called you together because I have had another vision."

The announcement drew mutters of astonishment from those assembled, save Claudia and the grim-faced newcomer. Celestine gave them a few seconds to let it out before she quieted them with a wave of her hand.

"Please, friends, I will explain all. My vision was not clear, but I can tell you this. Sometime very soon, the Dark Queen's power will fail her." She allowed her gaze to slide across each in turn, capturing their attention and reinforcing the severity of her claim. "I cannot say when or how this will occur, only that it must be soon. To that end, I propose an immediate invasion of Garan. I have ascertained through scrying that the Dark Queen has pulled her legion north, though why I cannot fathom. We have a small window of opportunity here, my friends. This war has gone on far too long, and I wish to see its end."

"My halflings are up for it" Luu-Luu chimed in, waving her hand in the air like a schoolchild eager for her teacher's attention. "We've got some brand new plans drawn up for a cannon that'll blow her fortress to smithereens. Just have to figure out how to put it together is all."

"The Dawn Templars stand ready" Claudia added, speaking with the certainty of a woman who had already known what was to be said. Indeed, she had summoned all but a skeleton force to remain in Geofu as soon as Celestine had confided in her regarding the vision.

"I will send for my knights" the younger of the knight commanders added, quick to echo her mentor's pledge. A short glance across the table to Prim confirmed that such a thing was doable, and permissible.

The stranger remained silent through it all, ignoring the rest of the table, watching Celestine. One of his hands appeared above the table, coming to rest easily next to his untouched glass. Last night he had drunk frugally, but seemed to enjoy the wine. Today he refused to touch it. Strange, she allowed herself to consider that. It seemed such a small matter compared to the other ones at hand.

"I appreciate your aid and your loyalty" she assured her Shields. "But the truth of the matter is I have already designed how this may be accomplished. This is, it will be, a desperate gamble. I could hardly sanction the idea of sending you all into harm's way. This will be a dangerous task, one that I must respectfully forbid many of you from joining. There is no guarantee that the Dark Queen's legion will be avoided, or that the full might of her legion can be bested in their own territory."

Her cautious words dulled the enthusiasm of the others, but only for a moment. The scrape of a chair being shoved back drew their attention to Vult. The mercenary general stood proudly, both hands on the table. "Well then, I know why I'm here. You need the Black Dogs for this, don't you?"

There was no accusation in his voice, or anger in his expression. On the contrary, his self-certainty bordered on arrogance, as if he had known she would need his help. He lifted a hand to thump his chest. "The Black Dogs have the numbers to make this work. Give me a three days and I'll have fifteen thousand men ready to march for you. We'll have the Black Fortress in ruins by the end of the month."

The ease with which he made the claim could not be ignored. Certainly the Black Dogs had twice as many men spread throughout the lands. Being able to assemble so many on such short notice was only because he had recently returned from patrolling the northern borders of Rad. The fact that the Black Dogs numbered in the tens of thousands had unsettled many nobles and leaders in the past; Celestine would have been uneasy with it too had their commander been anything less than Vult.

"Two days" she countered, drawing a look of surprise across the mercenary's face. He had not expected a counter offer, she thought with an inward smile. After considering the math in his head, Vult nodded and sat back down.

"Eight thousand, then. Should be more than enough. I will send across Eostia to have reserves follow us in. If there'll be a battle, you can bet we'll need them."

"I volunteer to accompany Vult" Maia insisted. She rose and made a half-bow to Celestine. "With respect, Goddess, even without my company I know I will be an asset to Vult's Black Dogs."

"I understand, but I must decline." Celestine felt sorry for the Mercenary Queen. It was an obvious ploy, an attempt to garner attention from her former leader. The woman's blind love for Vult would put her in danger, some day. Celestine would not let that happen while she had a say in it. "Vult, you will take your Black Dogs and march straight for the Black Fortress. Defeat any that stand before you, but I want Olga Discordia brought back alive."

"Alive, eh?" The brawny mercenary flexed his neck, eliciting a few crackling pops. "Shouldn't be that hard. I'll have Kin draft a proposal for your approval, ma'am."

"That will be fine" Celestine agreed. "However, I have one request to add to your assignment."

"Hm… Take my men into the wastelands, battle hordes of demons, capture the second most powerful sorceress in Eostia alive… all with two days to plan it out…" his cheeky grin betrayed his amusement. "Say it, and I will honor it."

"Take Master Shannegh with you." Celestine gestured to the newcomer.

"You can't be serious!" Maia threw up her hands in outrage. "You want him to go with Vult? But I-"

"Master Shannegh came here hunting a… a fiend" Celestine interjected, smoothly quieting her mercenary friend with a stern frown. "It is his belief the fiend will be met along the path to the Black Fortress. He is to accompany you, Vult, until he sees fit."

"Thought you didn't fight for coin." Tossing the man a sidelong stare, Vult shrugged his massive shoulders, but conceded. "That's fine by me. It'd be good to have a sword arm like his about."

"He will accompany you as my representative" Celestine stated. "I will repay any expenses he may incur, and claim responsibility for his actions while in your company. Does that please you?"

That raised an eyebrow from both Vult and Louk Shannegh. The latter cocked his head to the side, regarding her intensely, eyes narrowing to slits as he mulled over her bold proposal. His reticence to confirm her suggestion was all the reply she needed that he would not abuse that trust. Glancing over the the mercenary general, Louk Shannegh snapped his finger and stuck his thumb up. A symbol of acknowledgment perhaps where he was from.

"Guess I can show you how a real army fights" Vult cackled. He drained the last of his wine and slammed the glass on the table. "Reaper's on our side, then. The Dark Queen is going to have a hell of a surprise when we come knocking down her door."

-v-

Two days passed with blinding speed. For most of it, he remained out of the way, avoiding the Seven Shields commanders, particularly the one called Maia. Her seething rage at being left behind could not be misread, and the glaring fury she eyed him with indicated he would do well to avoid speaking with her. That was easy enough to do, providing her stayed away from the barracks and Vult's Black Dogs. The redheaded mercenary clung to the general's presence, a leech on his side for want of holding the man's attention.

To each their own, he supposed.

There was little to do elsewise. He neither cared nor desired to occupy Celestine Lucross' time. The woman had done enough for him, and she had her own issues to deal with. The constant stream of nobles and officials requesting her presence reminded him of a different time, when that had been his life. One of constant requests and bickering voices. He was glad to be rid of it.

Instead, he occupied himself with a more useful, industrious means of passing time. The White Citadel had a thorough library, quite expansive even for a land as small as this. Knowledge was power, and he fully intended to arm himself to the best of his ability, to seek out anything and everything he could use to his advantage. There was much to learn, however little it aided his true goal. The world of Eostia had a good deal of scholars in it. He studied their history, their culture. Anything and everything that he could learn in two days. Most of all, though, he studied this Goddess Reborn, and her Seven Shields. That, and the business with the Dark Queen Olga Discordia. The whole thing was a mystery to him. Elves, Dark Elves, halflings. Magic spells and sorcery utterly unlike the powers drawn from the Warp. This place was so naively innocent, so unprepared for the horrors that lurked in the shadows. A single regiment of Guardsmen could overrun the world in a week, he acknowledged. Then again, swords versus lasguns was hardly a fair fight.

It was on his second day that he entertained a visitor. Or, to put it more accurately, a visitor entertained him.

"It's not true, you know" the quiet, knowledgeable voice said.

Louk glanced up from the book, one of many volumes from the self-described historian Sir John Mandeville, some bigwig aristocrat from Geofu. It had been a dry read as it was, with long passages of little more than idle speculation interrupted by personal anecdotes that held as much weight as Louk's own opinion on the matter. Better to read it all than be choosey, he had told himself. Perhaps that had been a bad plan.

The one who had interrupted him stood at the exit from the aisle that held financial records and merchant contracts. A noble, by the look of him, wearing a simple brown shirt and a shapeless hat. His face was weathered, beaten like a man whose life had been drawn too long, with premature white hair and a short mustache of black, his true coloring no doubt. Well-used spectacles hung from his collar, and he inclined his head in greeting, posture stiff but informal.

"Klaus Levantine" he introduced. Approaching the table, the scholar peered over the pile of books Louk had assembled. "You are quite the reader, it appears. My wife told me you arrived in Ken just three days ago."

"You are Claudia's husband." Louk closed the volume and put it in the finished pile. Grabbing the next without hesitation, he spent a moment inspecting the cover. "It was a dry read anyways. The man doesn't know how to hold a paragraph."

"Some men are destined to write history, others are destined to make it" Klaus mused. "Claudia informed me that you are to accompany Vult to the north. I wish you a safe journey."

"I doubt an invasion could be considered safe" Louk replied. Letting the book rest for now, he straightened up and cracked his back. "Throne, what time is it?"

"Not long until the Goddess is holding supper. Will you be attending?"

"I haven't been asked." He gave himself a long minute to study this scholar. The nobleman did not miss his attention.

"You are a stranger here" Klaus assured him, "so I suppose you would not know. Any who bear Celestine's approval may join her at supper. She encourages an open meal for those who desire it. It is another way for her to stay connected to her people." Sighing quietly, Klaus eased into one of the chairs. The man moved stiffly, as if battling age that he should not have suffered from this young in his life. "I am sure you want to ask, so please, go ahead."

"Fell from a horse" Louk guessed.

"I wish it were so exciting" Klaus replied. "No, I fell ill in my youth. The doctors never discovered the cause of it, and by the time they found a treatment, it had left its mark. My muscles atrophied during my illness, and ever since they have not recovered. How old do you think I am?"

"As old as Claudia, I would presume." Louk shrugged. In honesty, the man appeared a dozen years older than the commander of the Dawn Templars, if he were being generous.

"You are a true gentleman" Klaus laughed, weak and shallow. "No, my friend. I am four years older than my wife, though many guess a decade or more her elder."

"Ah." He opened the book's cover. Elves, High and Dark, by Nazare Muhad. The interior cover was a sketched portrait of two women, both voluptuous and naked, arms wrapped around each other to strategically cover their intimate places. The shading on the one indicated cleary which was supposed to be the dark elf. The artistry was… imaginative.

"May I ask a question" Klaus prodded. Louk nodded absently, flipping to the next page, where the book truly began. "What is that, on your sword?"

His hand stretched out to indicate the housing for the power cell. Louk glanced down at the weapon, then tucked the edge of his jacket forwards to obscure the blade. "It's hard to explain. Perhaps when I return, I can tell you."

The nobleman accepted his answer graciously.

"Now, I have a question for you" Louk countered.

"Please."

"Are you here by chance or are you spying on me?"

The bluntness of the question did not give the nobleman pause. A frail chuckle was his reply, and Klaus held his hands up in mock surrender.

"You have me dead to rights, I suppose. It is true, my wife and her comrades are unnerved by your presence. You are an enigma, and Claudia certainly does not like being at a disadvantage. Though, here I happened upon you and my curiosity got the better of me. Is that a sufficient answer?"

"It is" Louk answered. "Is your curiosity satisfied?"

"For now." Klaus pulled himself to his feet and doffed his cap. "Thank you for your time, Reaper."

-v-

The Black Dogs had assembled outside the capitol, their tents stretching all along the city's white walls like a field of multicolored flowers amidst the plains. Eight thousand men, armed and armored for war, waiting on the order of their general. Three thousand spearmen, two thousand swordsmen, fifteen hundred archers, a thousand horsemen, and five hundred specialists, scouts, and mages. It was a fearsome force, Claudia admitted. It dwarfed her six hundred Dawn Templars, and this was but a fraction of Vult's command. Truly, the charisma with which he led was a thing of wonder.

Standing on the ramparts, Claudia had arrayed herself in her full panoply of war. Masterfully wrought plates of lightened steel covered her from throat to toe, light enough for horse riding, but sturdy enough to withstand the weight of an orc's strength, it had protected her across dozens of engagements. She trusted the winged pauldrons and engraved steel with her life, as she trusted its unique design to serve as a rally banner in the midst of the chaos of battle. The Black Dogs called her the Valkyrie for her appearance and ferocity in battle; she was one of the few non-Black Dogs commanders that Vult allowed to lead his troops in war.

Now, with a dozen of her Templars in formation behind her, the place at her left reserved for Celestine to bless the ensemble, Claudia waited patiently, and calculated. It was a nerveless tic, a symptom of her restless mind and perfected training. Six hundred Templars, and the city's guard, against eight thousand Black Dogs. They would hold the gate for four hours, at the most, inflicting two thousand casualties on the attackers. By then more than half of her Templars would be dead, and most of the city guard. From there, a fighting retreat to the White Citadel. Merchant guards and noble retinues would slow the invaders for two hours at the most, giving her time to prepare the final defenses. Five thousand more Black Dogs would fall assaulting the White Citadel. That left a thousand before she would run out of warriors.

She thanked the gods that Vult would never turn on them.

Her second snapped to attention, armored boots clacking together. A half-breath later, the rest of her command did likewise. Their precision was a tribute to her training regimen, to the high standard they held themselves to in honor of their position in Eostia's most elite cadre. Her Templars were, in her humble opinion, the most well-trained force in existence. Even Vult bowed to their peerless skill, whether at formations or in individual combat. He had confided in her once, on a late night of planning against the Dark Queen's legion, that he could beat any one of them without breaking a sweat. Two would make him work for the victory. Three would see even him on his knees. That admission was the vindication of every drop of sweat she poured into perfecting her warriors.

Now those warriors had earned the honor of being the Goddess' honor guard on the eve of this great undertaking. Turning from her view of the Black Dogs, their ranks smooth and unmoving, she bowed low to the approaching high elf. Celestine positively radiated serenity today, though Claudia knew the disquiet had weighed on her ever since her vision. It was a hard thing, to send so many to war. An incursion to Garan would not be without heavy casualties. Claudia was grateful for the Black Dogs to shoulder the burden, even as she prayed for their victory.

"Goddess" she greeted, before lifting her shoulders and stepping to the side.

Her Goddess smiled up at her. "Claudia, you look well today. How is Klaus?"

"Well, your grace."

Celestine Lucross stepped up to the parapet, gazing down at the Black Dogs. A trace of sorrow eased across her face for a moment, then vanished behind her smooth smile, an uplifting expression that stretched across the mercenaries like a soft breeze on a hot day.

"They are brave" was her only comment.

"Indeed they are" a boisterous voice called out. Vult strode through the ranks of Templars, with Louk Shannegh close on his heels. The two made an odd pair: the loud giant of a mercenary general alongside the quiet, prowling stranger. To her trained eye, Claudia knew at a glance that they were a well-formed pair. Vult's strength and Louk's speed could conquer entire companies.

She was curious to see how this pairing would turn out.

Celestine smiled at them both, and offered them a place beside her. Now that they had arrived, it was time to finalize the job and send off the army. Vult joined her without hesitation, eager to discuss the last particulars of their contract. Less eager for the attention of so many, Louk Shannegh detached from the mercenary general and joined Claudia. A sharp rise of his head revealed the dark gaze of the man, and Claudia grimaced at his attention. She would be glad to be rid of that.

"Knight Levantine" he greeted, his flat tone offering no warmth to his greeting.

"Reaper. Did that archives entertain your curiosity?"

"For now. I met your husband, in the archives." The mystery man crossed his arms over his chest, angling his body so he could watch Celestine while holding the conversation. The goddess was speaking to the Black Dogs now, offering a suitable speech praising their courage and promising her gratitude for their deeds. It was a kind of speech she had given many times. Each time, Celestine's heart broke for those who would not return. The commander of the Dawn Templars prayed that this would be the last.

"Did you now?" Claudia felt the subtle quickening of her pulse, the instinctive reaction to such comments already rising. The endless defense of her husband did not shame her, but she was always ready to fight for his honor.

"He is a good man."

"Yes, he is" she stated, the tension easing as quickly as it had appeared.

"He loves you dearly."

She did not reply. Uncertain of what he was getting at, she held her silence, and waited for him to continue. When he said nothing further, she pushed the conversation from her mind. Her Goddess' speech was short, and already ending. Once Vult had her signature, the mercenaries would set forth. A simple process, and one that Claudia had overseen many times. Offering a respectful bow, the mercenary accepted her contract and turned on his heel, clearly holding himself back from rushing to the stairs to join his men. His blood was hot for battle now, Claudia thought to herself. Had their foes been human, she would have felt sorry for them.

"Master Shannegh, if you please" Celestine beckoned for him to step forward. He did, and Claudia gave her Goddess a questioning stare that did not go unnoticed by her subordinates. This was not planned, whatever it was. "Please, kneel if you would be so kind."

"No…" Claudia breathed, more out of amazement than denial. The realization struck her like a light slap, but the knight commander held her place, a jagged tension rushing up to her jaw as Reaper stooped to one knee, eyeing the Goddess with the unashamed curiosity of a man who did not know his place.

"Claudia, your sword."

Her Goddess beckoned, and Claudia was loathe to deny her. Grudgingly, the lady of House Levantine drew her sword from its scabbard and offered it to her Goddess. A pang of indignation snatched at her heart for a moment, but she forced it down. How could she not have been informed of this beforehand? Certainly, this man's arrival had put them all on the wrong foot, but this was something that Celestine had always confided with her.

"Master Shannegh, Reaper." Celestine lowered the blade to rest on the man's shoulder. His body coiled underneath his clothes, an instinctive reaction to the presence of a blade so close to throat. Claudia's jaw tightened again, and she wondered if she could intercept should the man take a swing at her Goddess. No, not with the speed she had seen in the barracks. Celestine would be dead before she closed the distance. "You are setting out in my name, under my banner, to accompany Vult and his Black Dogs into the wastelands. I cannot send you out as you are, a man with no professed loyalty or claims of service. To speak with my authority, you must have my authority. To that end, I must ask you now: Do you pledge your life in service of the Goddess Reborn, to uphold her honor and battle in her name, until such a time as you are released from service by her decree or by death?"

Celestine's expectant smile signalled the man to respond. The man's slowness to answer stoked the irritation settling in Claudia's gut. Few had the honor of the Goddess' counsel, much less the opportunity she offered now. For god's sake, she presented the man with knighthood, and he remained silent, his expression masked with thought but offering nothing.

Claudia was quickly growing to despise Louk Shannegh.

"I swear it" he answered, his voice so low the assembled party barely heard it. The sword lifted and touched down on his other shoulder.

"Do you swear to serve the people of Eostia, to protect them from the predations of monsters and villains? And do you swear to bear the name of the Goddess as your own, to follow her teachings and pursue her interests as if they were your own?"

"I swear it."

His answer came faster this time, smooth and easy, full of confidence. Her Goddess lifted the sword away, holding it upright, and reached out to place her hand on his head. He obliged her by drawing his hood back, bringing his handsome, haunted face to light.

"And do you swear-" the Goddess paused, lips parted, the words hanging breathlessly in the air. A sudden, powerful sigh poured like oil from her lips, as if an icy chill had swept over her alone. The sword clattered to the rampart floor. Celestine staggered, her whole body sagging forwards, eyes growy bleary and distant. Claudia crossed the distance between them in the span of three frantic heartbeats, a silent cry on her lips as her Goddess teetered. The horror was still crossing the faces of her knights, their reactions slowed by shock.

Reaper leapt to his feet, flowing upwards like a cat leaping for a butterfly, and caught the Goddess. His right arm swept around her waist, supporting her weight, and the other caught her under the shoulder, propping her on her feet. Her head landed in the crook of his neck, the muscles in her body going limp. For a terrifying moment, Claudia feared for her Goddess' safety. The man had his hands around her; it would take a single moment of betrayal, and Claudia would be unable to protect her.

She grabbed the man by his shoulder, aiming to wrench his grasp away, to clear a line to her liege. A soft moan stopped her cold, Celestine's pained cry stopping her as surely as a blast of ice magic. Her Goddess' pale white hand gripped the man's sleeves, her body quivered fitfully. Then she pulled back, startled, the color returning to her ivory tone.

"You…" the Goddess gasped, her expression rigid with terror. "What…"

Falling silent, Celestine shuddered again, then looked down. Her fingers were curled tight into his clothes, and she released him as if stung. Taking a careful step back, she smoothed her robes, a crimson blush blooming on her cheeks. Claudia hastily stepped between them, stooping to pick up her sword, which remained pointedly out of its scabbard.

"My lady" Claudia asked, "are you well?"

"It was a… a vision." Her voice was hoarse, weak. "Water, please."

"Got something better for that" the man cut off Claudia's order to her knights. Reaching into his jacket, not minding the sudden rush of blades that drew and pointed in his direction, he drew a small flask and extended it in offering. When Claudia's glare indicated her mistrust, he unscrewed the lid and took a sip. "Whiskey."

"Give it to me" Claudia ordered. She snatched it from his hand and sniffed. It smelled as it should. Tipping the end, she allowed a few drops onto her tongue for taste. Nothing out of the ordinary. It tasted like it had come from one of the barrels in the White Citadel's cellar. Satisfied, she handed it over to her Goddess.

"Do not play the innocent with me, Reaper." Her stern command had no effect on the man. "What did she see? You know it."

"She saw…" he spread that wicked grin across his face that gave even the most stouthearted an unearthly chill. It was a mask, she realized. The whole of the man: his expressions, his posture, the very breath from his lungs. It was all a mask. A ghastly, grotesque mask for something dark and evil. Her skin prickled in anticipation, adrenaline flowing back into her veins. "Things that no mortal should ever have to see."

Claudia bit back her snarl and lifted her sword, signalling the other Dawn Templars. This man was a threat, she decided, right at this instant. He was dangerous, and she would not allow him in her Goddess' presence. Her knights responded with textbook efficiency, dropping into battle stances, their weapons and shields brought to bear. He stood before her with no weapons. She knew that she could take him down.

"No, Claudia." Her high elf friend wrapped her slim hands around the knight commander's armored gauntlet and pulled it down to her side. "He is not our enemy."

"You cannot know that" Claudia argued, refusing to turn away from the man, standing unafraid before her in the face of a dozen of her knights. "What did you see, my lady?"

"I saw terror" Celestine answered. Her voice flowed with conviction, weak as it was. "Terror, violence, and the world drowned in blood. But it was not Reaper that caused it. He stood between us and the tide."

"That does not make any sense" Claudia insisted. "We are about to end this war."

"That is your first mistake" Reaper stated. He shook his head solemnly. "There is only war. This one may end, but another will rise in its place."

"Do you doubt our victory?"

"I doubt nothing. I have seen more war than you could imagine, Knight." The darkness wept from his scowl. His anger spread like a shadow, drowning the sun's light around them. Her Dawn Templars exchanged nervous glances, unsettled by his tone and the surety with which he spoke.

"Please, we are friends." Celestine stepped between them, placing a hand on each one's chest. Pushing gently, she eased Claudia back a pace. "I apologize, dear Claudia. I did not intend to cause you distress. The vision, it overwhelmed me for a moment. I trust this man. Put your swords away, all of you. He is a knight of the kingdom now, though name be the extent of it until he returns."

Claudia grumbled, reluctantly sheathing her sword.

"I apologize, Master Shannegh." Her glare did not waver, and the man accepted it with a mocking bow. "My temper got the better of me. It will not happen again."

"Master Shannegh." Celestine held out her hand. "The moment is ruined, I fear, but I must ask you the final question. Do you swear to lay down your life for the Goddess, for the Seven Shields, and for those they protect?"

The man's false smile faded, expression growing grim with an intensity that Claudia had not expected. Taking the high elf's hand, Louk Shannegh bent and kissed her knuckles; the movement struck Claudia as strangely intimate, but fitting. Her teeth ground together as the man released her Goddess' hand and retreated a step.

"I will destroy your enemies, Celestine Lucross, and I will protect your people with my life. Louk Shannegh, the Reaper, will fight in your name."

"Then go," Celestine ordered. "And bring Olga Discordia to me so that this war might end."