It was a rare day of sun in Sigfriedof. Usually with any place so close to the bleak, near desolate hellhole that was Sylvania you nearly expected to never see the sun again most days. But still, the citizens of the Empire were happy to get their victories where they could, no matter how small it may seem. Not too hot, not too cold, perfect weather to be outside, and perfect weather for a harvest. Conrad was one such person appreciating both aspects. The farmer was hold up on the edge of his farm, clearing out the growing weeds and grass with a scythe so as to keep his crop from starving. Which wasn't something that he had often as the crop normally didn't do so well normally with the constant dreary weather. However, Taal seemed to be on their side this past few seasons and the harvest actually seemed to be growing without issue this year, which was an exceptional rarity but he would certainly be the last one to complain.
He set the tool down and took a large swig from his water skin, he was getting far too old for this. But this was far better retirement than keeping with the Empire's armies, that life was behind him now and all the better. But with his son taking his place in the Stirland militia and his daughter out working in the Abbey, someone needed to hold down the fort so to speak. He gave his beautiful wife a smile as she hung the last of the clothing on the hamper out to dry, and then cast his gaze to the abbey that dominated his view out on the top of the hill. No matter how many times he looked to it, it would always unnerve him at least slightly. Not that he wouldn't be thankful for the Knights of the Raven that made their home in this town, but they were always a strange lot. Bad luck seemed to follow them wherever they seemed to go, which in his mind was a damn pity; Sigmar watch over them. But when you were more likely to be attacked with a Knight in your party, people tended to have mixed opinions about the lot of them.
He was about to pick his scythe back up and get back to work before hearing the sharp gasp from his wife. "Honey!" She called. Already hearing the worried undertone in her voice. "I think you might want to see this!" A confused look crossed his brow before setting the tool down, walking across the road, and stepping up on the porch to join his wife, then strain his vision to try and get a better look at where she was pointing. He couldn't see it at first, but he caught up to it quickly.
A lone figure on a horse, armor shining brightly as the sun's rays bounced off it quite liberally. At first, he simply took it for a rare case of another of the Empire's knightly orders delivering a missive to the Raven's Abbey. They did tend to come and go every now and then. But after the rider began to inch ever closer and his view began to clear, he could tell this was very likely not the case. He had served the Empire for several years and seen more than a few of the Knightly orders in all aspects of the Empire, from the noble and haughty Reiksgaurd, and the majestic Knights of the Blazing Sun, but this was nothing he was familiar with.
His armor was ornate, expertly crafted, he could see that even from his current distance. It all seemed to gleam like pure silver and gold mixed in with a dark blue color on what seemed like a plate coat that danced in the sunlight. Even the silver barding on his horse shone brightly as well. The tower shield hitched to horse's side was quite foreign to him, and he most certainly couldn't recognize any Imperial heraldry on the shield itself. There was a brief period where was figured it must be a knight of neighboring Bretonnia, but he doubted that. Then his eyes were locked on the helmet itself, such a strange shape, a cone of some type with wings on either side and a large ruby gem in the center. All the same to him it seemed rather silly. His eyes would remain locked on this stranger, trying as he might to study every aspect he could see until he rode close enough to where his eyes widened in slightly recognition. Keeping his gaze on the approaching knight as he calmly murmured to his wife urgently. "Hulda, get inside and lock the door, I will let you know when it's safe." She would look to him in shock and looked like she wished to question why, but soon enough did as he asked, walking briskly into the house and shutting the door behind her.
He couldn't be certain, but he had a growing inkling of who, or rather what was approaching. The knight stopped his horse outside the gate of his property and pulled his helmet off, and a long mane of almost golden hair tumbled out as he aired himself off. He caught one sight of his ears and his suspicions were confirmed, it was an elf. He had never seen one before but from the many tales he had heard he was all but certain after glancing at those pointed ears of his. But the question was, what as an elf doing so far away from home? Athel Loren was miles from here, and he heard they never leave their forests. Or was this one of those other elves he heard about? The ones that live on that island way off the coast? He certainly wasn't dressed like someone who lived in the forests. The elf looked at him the same way one might look at a dirty child that didn't belong to you and started tugging on your pant leg, not to mention the look like he had just smelled something foul, so he had an inkling on how the next few minutes were going to go.
The elf took one last look around the countryside and village before glancing up the hill towards the Raven's abbey before turning back to him. "You there, human. What village is this?" He spoke in a manner he often heard nobles speak. His tone was not quite a question, but more of a subtle demand of something deemed lesser. He was already not enjoying himself, despite the exotic company.
"This is Sigfriedof. What's it to ya?" He had subconsciously reached back to grab his scythe. Though he far from familiar on how to use a tool like this as a weapon, it was a better option than using his fists. Though the sight of the shortsword on this elf's belt seemed quite lethal, and it was doubtless he knew how to use it. This elf may not appear to be hostile, but that could very well change any moment. Outsiders were watched like hawks in this place for good reason. The elf glanced back down the road, seemingly uncaring for the semi-hostile stance the farmer was taking.
"How much further till Sylvania?" Conrad raised a brow at the elf's nonchalant attitude, like he had absolutely no reason to even be slightly threatened. But all the same, the farmer kept to what he knew, even as the rest of the farmers and peasants along the road this morning were starting to stop and stare, a few even running off in the direction of the abbey, likely the warn the militia or the knights. The elf could see that the farmer wasn't talking and reach into a pouch strapped to his horse's side and pulled out a single gold coin and tossed it to him. "Will that get me the rest of the information I seek?"
He most certainly wasn't expecting that. Taking a moment to inspect what was offered and seeing it was in fact a real Altdorf gold crown. His mouth gaped as he stared at the coin, it was more money than he could make in month! He would hastily stuff it back in his back pocket and set down his scythe. Gold was gold, and he wouldn't turn up his nose at what would help keep food on the table. "Yeah sure, I'll-I'll answer what I can." He answered almost frantically. "The border to Sylvania is a few more miles down the road, just past Lake Svarsee milord." The fair-skinned elf rubbed under his chin for a moment and made a quick face like he was considering something, but it was quite distasteful.
"There is an inn in this village I assume? I have been riding for some time now and I would appreciate a few moments to for respite." The farmer paused for a moment, hesitant to tell him. Sure he was only asking for an inn, but with this town as distrustful of strangers as it was, let alone an elf. The Knights of the Raven were known to start tavern brawls almost weekly in there. But in the end, the elf had paid, far more than any other had for idle information.
"Of course milord. You're gonna wanna turn left up the hill and head up till you see it on your left just before the abbey. It's a few miles up, place by the name of 'Raven's Nest'." The asur gave a respectful nod, or at least something that looked like it and trotted on, parting the small throng of gaping peasants as he went. He finally managed to close his jaw as he watched the armored elf depart, scratching his chin as he decided it would be probably be best to wait inside for a day or so till this all blew over.
Alathenar sighed as he finally saw the easy part of his journey was ending. It had taken many weeks of traveling after landing at Marienburg, this land was quite spacious, and he had taken more than a few pitstops along the way. Not to mention more than a few fools that mistook him for an easy target. Human bandits, beastmen, and even a few scattered dwarves still holding onto grudges from past slights, but all fell beneath his blade. He would not be deterred by those that were beneath him. He had a goal, he would see it done, nothing short of his family's honor was at stake. Though if the map in his possession was anything to go off of, Sylvania was by no means miniscule. Hopefully if what he had gleamed from others on his travels were correct, there should be an order of human knights who may at least be able to point him in the appropriate direction. Isha willing he may even be able to hire a few to aid him, he'd yet to meet any human that wouldn't abandon their morals and trepidation for a few coins. As he turned the corner to begin ascending the hill, he shook his head at the ridiculousness of the situation. "By Asuryan who builds an entire village on an incline?"
He ran a hand through Eridha's mane, as she gave a slightly nervous snort, doing his best to calm his dear friend. It seemed the Ellyrion mare was uncomfortable with the people around her, and rightly so, humans were not exactly a trustful sort. "All is well my friend, we shall see Ulthuan again soon. But I have made an oath to complete this, so I must see this done to the end. And for that we shall require further assistance from them." The mare shook her head and gave a loud snort. He chuckled as he scratched the soft snow-white fur on her neck. In the time he spent traveling through the old world he had easily grown accustomed to the looks he received from the humans, halflings, and dwarves he passed, but he had simply paid them no mind. The only time he would stop was to rest for the night and purchase more provisions for the road, and to dispatch the unwelcome. Once the time was right, he would trek on into the land of Sylvania after he had rest and appropriate provisions. He gave one last look at the massive human temple and his nose crumbled at the sight of it, it was rather ugly. But you could never trust a human to make something beautiful, much less a place of worship. Once he reached the end of the incline, he would find his destination as he pulled up to the inn, dismounting, knocking the mud off his boots and heading inside. Either these knights would come to him, or he would go to them. Though he imagined it would be the former, rather than the latter.
The inside of the Morrian Abbey of Blessed Aethelbert the Vigilant was quiet. It was lit only by the lights of several candles as the knights all kneeled in prayer to the great black raven statue of Morr that rose high above them, almost blocking the stained-glass window behind it. All the knights were still almost fully clad in their obsidian-plated armor save for their helmets, all plumed with a combination of red and white feathers, almost seeming to absorb the lights of the candle's. Few saw the need to don their helm here, but there were always that rare few that wished to keep himself fully protected, even when they were at their safest. But here, so close to their greatest enemy, nobody was truly safe. Their hymns were low and haunting, paying proper tribute to the God of the Dead. But their words of worship are interrupted as their abbey does burst open, with several terrified look peasants scattering inside. "My lords! My lords! You must come quick!" The Raven knight's aging Grandmaster Lord Voss stood up slowly from kneeling position, stepping down from his podium and ushered them closer.
"Calm yourself friend. Calm down, and tell us what is happening." The smaller man took a moment to slow his breathing before pointing outside the door. "My lords! T-t-there is an outsider that has just arrived!" Almost all the knight's looks of intrigue vanished in near an instant, quickly replaced with annoyance and some with anger. The old man stood and shook his head. "We have travelers pass through these parts more often than not. Morr's scythe, it's all we can do to keep the other villagers from lynching them out of fear. But this is hardly a reason to disturb us." He was about to walk away until the villager placed a hand on his pauldron, stopping him.
"But my lord! This newcomer is an elf!" That word stopped the Grandmaster in his tracks. An elf, truly? In all his years he had yet to see one. He was told they all kept to their forest on the other side of the Empire. And that any man that trespassed in their forest was swiftly peppered with arrows or set upon by malicious forest spirits. He turned back around and signaled for his knights to arm themselves, just in case.
"Where is this elf now? Do you know?" The still shaking villager would once again point outside. Still trying not to stuttering and keep his legs from quaking. Morr's balls! You'd think the Von Carstine bastards were leading a full warhost of vampires through town.
"He mentioned the inn sire. Who knows what dire intentions he could have for those poor souls?" The old grizzled knight had to stop himself from rolling his eyes as he stepped towards his weapon rack, grabbing his warhammer and stepping out into the light. He had heard stories about elves and many of them painting them as blood-crazed savages that kidnapped children to drink their blood in offering to their heathen gods. But he was no paranoid villager. One elf would hardly come here in broad daylight in full view of everyone in a town with a monastery filled to the brim with knights with ill intentions. And he knew who the real blood suckers were. He called out to one of his order's Lieutenants: Frederick Kreutzberg. A tall man who seemed to be in his mid-twenties, dark tan skin, jet black hair, and beginnings of a beard that he kept trimmed down to stubble.
"Frederick, I want you to head down to the inn to ascertain the possible threat of this elf and if need be, subdue him. I doubt it will come to that, but at the same time I also want to keep him from harming the townsfolk who very likely try to kill him, like they've done to so many other travelers." The man would raise a brow as the order was given.
"By myself sir? Shouldn't a few others be comin along with me? I hear stories about how fast them elves are." The old man simply shook his head and waved him off.
"Yes, by yourself Frederick. Think about it lad, would someone with overly hostile intentions just ride up in the middle of the morning and just walk into the inn? No, no I don't believe so. Either way, we don't want to start an incident here. Just talk to the elf yeah?" The young man would nod in understanding and grab his longsword and made sure the weapon was firmly secured to his hip as he walked out of the abbey and started his quick trek towards the inn.
Grandmaster Voss was certainly coming on in his years, and the only reason he hadn't retired was because he simply didn't trust Lieutenant Van Loenen. And Frederick agreed that the man was far too cruel and far too ambitious for his station. The man had burned entire villages to the ground just to flush out a single necromancer. He was not looking forward to when he took over, even still Frederick would admit there were times when Grandmaster Voss acted stranger than usual. Like underestimating numbers needed for actions for example. He'd heard tales just like everyone else in the Empire about the martial skill of the elves, what if this one was only pretending to be neutral before laying waste to the village around him? It was still something he was unsure about. Perhaps he was simply being too paranoid?
But that was not the present task at the moment, he was here to investigate an elf, a bloody elf of all things! Though he curious if this would this be one of those forest elves or the ones from that island continent across the ocean? As he slipped his skull helm on, he would take a nice deep breath, utter a quick prayer to Morr and push open the door. What he saw he was both prepared and not prepared to see.
There was in fact an elf, dressed in the most ornate and colorful armor he had ever laid eyes on, and he had fought alongside the Reiksguard before. In the dark lighting of the bar, he was at a far table with a strange cone shaped helmet laying on the table next to him, sipping from a glass of wine that he really didn't seem to be enjoying, whilst the bartender and patrons alike were all huddled as far away from him as they could. Well, that certainly didn't look like one of the forest folk, so one could only assume he came this far into the Empire with a mission in mind, doubtful it had anything to do with this little town. He would clear his throat and stand on the other side of the newcomer's table. "Umm, good day, sir elf." He began a little hesitantly. He really wasn't sure how he should be taking this, as this was completely new territory for him. "Might I ask what brings you out this way in this humble village?" The elf regarded him for a moment, looking him up and down before setting his glass of wine down.
"Ah! You must be amongst the number of what passes for a knight amongst the humans. Wonderful, I had been hoping to come into contact with your order here. Seems the info I received was legitimate after all." A flash of anger crossed his face, mercifully hidden under his helmet as he briefly considers drawing his blade and having him answer for that insult, but he had a job to do, and anyone who spoke of elves also spoke of their massive egos. And at the same time, something told him that this elf was far more dangerous than he appeared. He sighed quietly under his helm and unclenched a fist as he took a quiet breath, calming himself.
"Correct sir, I am of the Knights of the Raven. Though I might ask what brings you to Sigfriedof? Sir?" He let the pause sit there for a moment while the elf took another sip of his wine.
"Alathenar, my name is Alathenar. I have ridden for many days after leaving my beloved Ulthuan. But I do in fact come here with purpose. I can assure you that I am not here for sight-seeing. Though I was hoping to discuss business with those of your order." Under his helmet the knight raised a brow, crossing his arms as he digested the information. Well, a small relief that this elf wasn't here to cause trouble, though it would have been considerably odd if he was.
"And what sort of business do you refer to?" The human pulled out a chair and on the other end of the table and sat down, wanting to gather as much information as possible.
"Simple, I plan on heading into Sylvania." That caused a short bark of laughter from the knight.
"Why? Planning on committing suicide? I'm certain there are less messy ways that can be accomplished you know?" The asur flashed him a look of annoyance, only to sigh and shake his head.
"Perhaps it would be suicide to you humans, but either way I am aware of the dangers, and that is precisely why I am here." Alathenar folded his hands together and offered him a rather roguish smile. "I seek to hire any of your knights that I can for this expedition. And to secure information about the area." The human leaned back on the chair; his arms still crossed.
"Our order are not bodyguards for hire elf. We are servants of Morr first and foremost. And you still haven't answered my question. Why are you trying to head into Sylvania? What could you possibly want in that vile den of undeath and necromantic heretics?" The high elf stood from his chair and held an arm towards the exit door.
"I would rather discuss this in an area where there are no prying ears. We can continue this discussion in your little headquarters." Without waiting for an answer, he tucked his helmet under the crook of his arm and walked out the door, in the direction of the abbey.
"Wait! Ah, damn it all." It was no use doing that, he had already closed the door behind him. He quickly stood up and stumbled out the door and towards the abbey. He would need to act quickly. He could name five of his brothers right off the top of his head that would take serious issue with an unknown entity entering a sacred place of worship of Morr, much less one that wasn't human. Sure enough the elf had already pushed the iron door open and stepped inside. Almost immediately the results could be heard.
"What in the name of all that is holy!" And by that voice, it would seem that the worst-case scenario of him coming face to face with Sir Rolph Van Loenen had occurred. He stepped up his pace considerably to where he was all but sprinting across the cobblestone, his obsidian plates clanking rather loudly as he attempted to prevent a possible diplomatic incident. By the time he entered, the elf already had a longsword pointed at his face, and a crowd of templars surrounding him. If the elf was intimated, he sure wasn't showing it, if that unimpressed face was anything to go by. "If this is some new attempt at fooling us vampire, it is a poor excuse."
"Human, I would advise against pointing something sharp like that, you are liable to lose that hand of yours." The offending human gave him a mirthful smile before drawing his sword back.
"Oh, let me take that into account real quick." The templar moved to swing the sword down to execute the elf before there was a massive clash of steel. There was a masterfully crafted shortsword in the asur's hands where there was nothing only seconds before, easily holding off the human's own. With a flick of his wrist, he moved the blade down till it intercepted the templar's guard and with a quick movement disarmed him and tossed the blade across the marble floor. Then with another quick movement the blade was pressed against his throat, a small sliver of blood moving down the mans neck.
"Now, this is why children should not get too attached to their toys." The old templar gave a grunt of defiance before finally dropping his arms in defeat. The elf smiled and withdrew his sword, sliding it back into its scabbard as the obsidian armored knight quietly slunk to the back of the circle of knights that had gather, hoping that few had noticed. "Feel grateful you continue to breathe human, though with the way you act I can't imagine you will continue breathing for too much longer. Not that your kind live that long anyway." He called after him. Frederick stood there is slight shock for a moment. He had no idea anyone could react that quickly. There was empty air one second and the next he had already completely disarmed the lieutenant. There was a small grating chuckle and clapping of gloved hands as the grandmaster pushed through the still gathering crowd of knights all around them. Soon enough it seemed like every knight still in the town was surrounding them.
"An impressive display of swordsmanship, for an elf I suppose. Now that you've hopefully finished assaulting my templars you would explain your presence here? Frederick?" He turned his head direct his question more towards his chosen Lieutenant.
"My lord. He is uh….he is here for an expedition into Sylvania." It was quiet for a minute as the Grandmaster stood contemplating. Before long he shook his head and offered the high elf and grim smirk.
"I see, and for what purpose do you intend on traveling into the land of the Vampires? Has your long life worn down your judgement to where you think you'd last a day?" The asur could only roll his eyes at the nature of this rabble who were supposed to be knights.
"Yes, if I was any one of your untrained children that you dare to refer to as knights, then yes. I might not last the day. Fortunately for myself I can handle myself far better in melee and I have the funding to procure assistance. Which is precisely the reason I have come to this abbey. But maybe I should find one of those priests with the hammers? I imagine they would be more willing to assist me?" Lord Voss held up a hand to stop the elf from continuing.
"Now hold on there. I didn't say we wouldn't be willing to help, despite your awful bedside manner. By Morr the reason we exist is to bring the battle to the undead and destroy them where we find them. But we simply need to know. What is it that you hope to find in there?" Pursing his lips for a moment before nodding to the request.
"A certain Vampire has something that belongs to me and I would see it back where it belongs. It is a sword crafted by the priests of Vaul's Anvil in the mountains of Caledor in my homeland of Ulthuan. The sword had been with my family's line for five thousand years. It was lost to us when my father was killed and the sword was taken many centuries past. Now I have received word from a very reliable source here in the old world that it has ended up in hands of a vampire lord of the name Aleksandr Hoffman." The mention of the name had a few knights shifting stances in slight discomfort. Frederick would be the first to stop forward.
"That's a name we've heard of. One of Mannfred von Carstein's distant cousins who recently started climbing up the hierarchy in a rather brutal manner, even amongst those undead bastards." Voss held up a hand, effectively silencing him while he regarded the elf in a more serious tone.
"Now, I understand you seek a family heirloom. But I must ask, what makes a single sword so precious that you would risk this?" The high elf took a moment to consider, before quickly pulling his blade from it's sheath and holding both ends in his hands, allowing the humans to inspect the master quality of elven craftsmanship. The blade had this sort of luster that just made it shine at every angle you looked at it from. Blue, white, and gold decorated almost every angle that was not the blade itself, with another flawlessly cut ruby gem sitting on the crossguard.
"In order to understand that you must understand what that sword is made with. The most prized weapons and armor of my people are made of an ore called Ithilmar. It is a metal that not even the dwarves know the secret to. And it only comes a single source. And that source is located within Ulthuan." With a quick flourish the blade was slid back into its scabbard. "The blade is not simply valuable beyond your belief; it is the only one of its kind. More so, the sword holds a powerful enchantment that could wreak incredible damage on your Empire. I seek to reclaim what was lost. And by proxy, save your homes from possible decimation. I would imagine that sounds reasonable hmmm?" Grandmaster Voss stood silent for a long moment, his eyes never leaving the asur's before nodding curtly and grunting silently.
"Very well elf. You'll have our help. I'll have our scouts check for this certain vampire's whereabouts and grant you the assistance of one of my best knights." He would wave his hand over to the lieutenant he actually trusted. "That would be Sir Frederick here." The knight in question would idly nod along before realizing what was just said. His head slowly turning towards him.
"My lord, you wish for me to travel with the elf. Just me and the elf? Alone into Sylvania. Wouldn't this require an army?" The old templar would only give him a knowing smile.
"Normally, I would agree with you Kreutzberg. But those are numbers that we currently do not possess. The last failed hunt lost me several of our finest. And even more have gone into Sylvania as of late to their own personal crusades for their vengeance. You are amongst the most skilled at my disposal, so you will be the one to assist the elf. Believe me, if I had the numbers to send, I would march these boys straight to Castle Drakenhof and knock on that bastard's front door. But today is not that day." Frederick looked like he wanted to argue further but quickly decided against it. Straightening his posture and nodding. Grimacing under his head. "Very well my lord. I shall do the bidding of Morr."
"Hmm, good, it is done then." He would glance around to the other knights still gathered round in the circle. "What are you louts still doing here! Return to your duties!" The response was instantaneous as the circle broke away and the templars scattered in every direction. It didn't take long before the three were all alone in the hall. The asur raised a brow as he once again inspected the knight in question, before giving an exasperated sigh, closing his eyes. "I was hoping for more than just a single knight. But I will not turn you away human. I will take all the help I am offered." The young human tried his best to hide his building frustration under the safety of his helm.
"My name is Frederick." The elf held a hand up to silence him.
"And I do not care. Now, I wish to spend the rest of my day resting and stocking up. But before we go, I wish to test your martial abilities. Need to see if you won't just get pulled down by the first undead we come across hmm? I will return in the morning so we may find out where we stand. For now, I wish to retire and get some rest, I have been riding for quite some time. I do so hope you will join me come the morrow. Ta ta!" With that final word, he spun on his heel and walked out, hands behind his back and head held high. Both Knight and Grandmaster watched him leave before the iron doors shut behind him. Frederick would glower at the door as he left.
"By Morr, I can already tell that we are going to get along swimmingly." Voss would slowly begin to walk away down the candle-lit hall.
"Chin up Lieutenant, I am certain this will be memorable experience for both of you." As Alathenar walked from the abbey, returning to his horse, patiently waiting for her master. He would run a hand through her mane as he pondered his situation.
"A single knight? Either these humans are supremely confident in his abilities or they are sending him out to die. Well, it is not what I hoped for, but it is far from the worst-case scenario. I will simply make the best of what I am given." He would reach into his saddlebag and check through his provisions before making a list of all that was needed. If he was truly to face Sylvania with only a single knight for assistance, then he would need to make certain all was perfect.
(A/N) Hello there! Thanks for going through this, I certainly hope you enjoyed what you read. Now, if there is any constructive criticism you might have, please send it my way! Can't improve unless I fix mistakes as they come.