Long time no see! With Christmas coming soon I decided I might as well update this before I get too lazy again.
The days of recovery after the attempted invasion were difficult. In the aftermath of the attack most of Tarbes' infrastructure had been decimated along with the land around it, forcing the people to evacuate the ravaged village. They had been offered sanctuary in the capital for the time, though many of them knew this would only save them for the time being. Without the land and stable livelihoods it would end no different.
Recovery proved difficult. In the aftermath of the attack it was confirmed that the lord watching over Tarbes had been killed and very few now wanted to take his position since the village seemed unfeasible for restoration. While it would have been possible to recover the lands and buildings with the aid of Earth Mages, the cost of such an endeavor would no doubt be more trouble than it was worth.
Despite the village's destruction the mood towards those unaffected were festive. In their eyes Albion had been successfully repelled and they dealt them such a crushing defeat that the entirety of the fleet had been obliterated all at once. Rumors and hearsay about the explosion above Tarbes sparked interest all throughout the land: Was it a secret weapon by the crown? Divine providence from Father Brimir above? Or was it simply a coincidence? People argued back and forth on the cause from the day into the night.
Whatever the case, traffic surged. Whereas before merchants, mercenaries and other folks came to Tristain for the Princess' wedding and the possibility of a war with Albion now it was generally agreed that war would be inevitable and with the losses suffered by Tristain during the starting battle they would need new arms, armor and men willing to wear them and fight for the injured party.
Finally there came the news of the cancellation of the princess' wedding and her ascension to Queen. Many in the council objected to this, seeing it as too risky and that the marriage should continue, but reminders of Germania's inaction drowned out their protests in favor of cancellation. The revelation that the truce would still hold due to their hesitation in angering the country who could use 'miracles' all but removed any opposition to the annulment.
Henrietta had, at least temporarily, exchanged her burden for another.
Despondent, the future Queen looked out at the window of her carriage as it slowly trailed across the road. Outside she could see the various vendors hawking their wares along with the frequent trailing of armed groups. War would come soon; no festival or cheer could deny that fact. Whether war was declared or not it would lead to Tristain suffering, that much she was painfully aware of. Abstain and they looked weak, but press forward and there would be resistance from her own subjects.
"Is something the matter, Your Majesty?" Cardinal Mazarin asked across from her. Ever since the decision came for her to ascend the man's burdens finally lessened and for the first time in three years she had seen his wrinkled face smile from beneath his beard.
"Rising to be a Queen with no husband...is this truly wise?" She asked hesitantly. She could see many in the crowds cheering for the carriage as it passed. To them she was the Queen who had produced a miracle, but she knew this adoration wouldn't last. There would have to be taxes, labor and if the need got too great perhaps even conscription. Their love would turn to hate just as quickly.
"I think we can both agree that now is not the time for marriage, yes?" He replied, "This was no mere accident. Though I've little doubt this Cromwell is spinning the truth to make himself appear the victimized party the fact remains that he broke the treaty and attacked us days before your wedding when they were supposed to come as a gesture of good faith."
"And mother is still in mourning..." She couldn't help the tinge of bitterness that seeped into her voice. Three years. It had been over three years since her father had passed away and yet her mother still claimed to be in mourning. At times she couldn't help but feel that her mother was simply using it as an excuse to not rule and leave it to Cardinal Mazarin and now her own daughter.
"Yes. Exactly," He nodded, sympathetic, "That and in the eyes of the populace you are seen as much more 'worthy' of the title. You were the one who stormed out of the council after admonishing them for cowardice. You were the one who led the armies towards Tarbes. Lastly, many believe it was by your will that the miracle occurred and made the soldier's sacrifices meaningful. The people follow you, and that is enough."
"I didn't summon that miracle..." She muttered, though the Cardinal either didn't hear her or chose to ignore the statement. Louise had been the one to summon it. Louise, her best friend, who would no doubt pledge herself to her and vow to use her Void magic for Tristain. It would prove a tremendous advantage without a doubt; entire armies could be routed with a single spell. But could she use her closest friend in such a way?
She looked down at her hands. On her right she wore the ruby of water and to the left she wore the ruby of wind. It was a Hollow gesture, she knew the rings were all but ceremonial now and held little to no use, but it was the last thing she had her beloved Wales, "Wales..." She whispered. She was also in mourning, but she couldn't reveal it to anyone save a very select few.
"Yes, Prince Wales' and King Henry's death were tragic," The cardinal commented, mistaking her call for the mourning of lost royalty and nothing else, "Only more reason to make sure they don't get away with this. Had Reconquista succeeded in their invasion it would have been yourself and Queen Marianne that would meet the same fate. Paraded like a trophy before being executed. At best you would be political prisoners."
"Would the same fate not await you as well?" She asked back morbidly.
"Me? I am nothing more than a follower of the faith and officially I am but a cardinal. I suspect if I was caught I would be killed and then quickly forgotten. Royal blood is much more valuable."
"How comforting..." She muttered sarcastically, taking another look out of the window. Louise would be visiting her soon and she both looked forward to and dreaded the meeting. They would have to discuss her status as a Void Mage and what this ultimately meant. Unfortunately, as she was finding to be the case nowadays, what she wanted and what she had to do were always in complete opposites.
She let out a sigh. Thing were much simpler when she was younger, when she played pretend with Louise on being a hero saving the land from the 'evil' Germania; her rare moonlit meetings with Wales, the fervent kisses and sweet nothings they exchanged; the vows they made at Ragdorian lake about how they would love one another for eternity.
Those days were gone. The sooner she accepted that the faster she could move on.
Raziel looked around the building, shifting the iron sword attached to his hip. Derflinger had insisted that he needed a cleaning from the rust coating he'd been sporting and Louise had, surprisingly enough, agreed to the demand on the reasoning that if they were going to war then he needed a cleaner and sharper blade in case they ran into monsters. News had already abounded that Albion was taking Ogres and Orcs to form a bulk of their ground troops. So now he was left with a temporary sword that he scavenged from one of the dead at Tarbes.
How quick she was to change her mind with regards to killing when it came to non-humans. He didn't know whether to laugh or roll his eyes at her quick backtrack. He didn't doubt that once they started fighting humans she would rescind her order to not kill in her defense.
Many of the patrons turned to look at him as he entered, some outright snickering as they sized him up. This was a 'mercenary guild', or at least that's what Derflinger called it before they left him for cleaning. Apparently he had been here before at the hands of a previous owner and that it was a good way to earn gold so long as you didn't end up getting stabbed. As his tales indicated his last owner had his head chopped off when he wasn't looking and he became the sword of the bandit leader that killed him.
But that was a tale for another time. Raziel walked forward, doing his best to brush off the stares and sneers the older mercenaries were tossing him as he drew ever closer to the counter. They saw a young man, his walking forced and his body covered with not even a single bit of protection. They eyed his weapon and chortled at the poor make and the beginnings of rust that were easily spotted.
Another rookie that would either die on his first job or end up polishing the boots of his betters if he decided to join a group and they accepted. The latter was much more likely; greenhorns going at it alone often ended with them being found strung up with not even the clothes on their backs to provide them any dignity. Too many a young pup thought it would be easy to be a hero and kill monsters and bandits for a living.
The interior of the building itself consisted of two floors, most of which were packed with men (and some women) either polishing their weapons or drinking while sharing tales of exploits. To the left he could see a board with slips of paper attached all over and to his front he could make out a dark haired woman writing on a blank slip of paper. Perhaps he could ask her about how to get a job.
"Excuse me," He called out to the woman manning the counter.
She looked up, her green eyes narrowing from behind her thick glasses, before she heaved a sigh, "Another rookie? Great..." He didn't know whether she meant to hear him or not, "Let me guess, you want to join the war with Albion? Just join one of the groups on the left. They've been preparing to get hired and they'll take anyone to bolster their numbers. I'm sure they can find something for you to do."
"No thank you. I was hoping for a quick job, how does one call it? ...Monster slaying...or is it bandit hunting?," Gods, this was difficult. Well, whichever the case it had to be something that could earn New Gold and allow him to feed so he could kill two wyverns with one bolt. As the princ- Queen, he quickly corrected himself, told him Tarbes would need a lot of funding for recovery and it wouldn't come from nowhere.
"Really? Another one?" She didn't even bother to lower her voice this time, "For Brimir's sake, I thought this would stop after they found that young man with his cock stuffed in his mouth," He blinked. That was certainly an image he didn't need to see, "Listen, if you think you can be the world's next coming then just stop and join a group. We already have enough of a bad reputation about our members being killed and used as examples by criminals."
"I do not-"
"Look, this guild is already under scrutiny as it is," She interrupted with a sigh, "Our job is to get mercenaries into contact with patrons or possible bounties, but every time they fail or end up strung up like a puppet the guild's reputation suffers. We've already taken too many chances with young would-be-heroes trying to earn a fortune and getting killed."
"Am I not allowed to take a job without a group?" Raziel asked.
"Stupid little...no, there's nothing stopping you from taking a job without a group," She muttered a few curses under her breath. This would be another strike against them, "If you're not a member of a group, however, you can't take any of the high risk jobs since that would guarantee you dying. If you join a group you can use their reputation and guild rank to take higher jobs so long as the group as a whole agrees."
"Guild rank?"
"Yeah. The more jobs you complete, either as a group or alone, your rank in the guild increases and the guild trusts you more with jobs that are risky or sensitive. Higher ranking jobs of course means more money, but that means of course more danger. Since you refuse to join a group that means you start at the bottom rank. If you want to actually live life as a mercenary you need to complete jobs to get better contracts."
He nodded. It was easy enough to understand; in fact it reminded him too much of the covenants in Lordran. Do enough things to earn rank and you were given more things in accordance to your place in the hierarchy.
"I need to tell you the rundown of the rules before you can get started," She picked up a thick book and flipped a few pages, "This guild is under the scrutiny of the crown and we function within the law, not out of it. This means there are no jobs that have to do with assassination, blackmail or any other types of that ilk. If a contract places you in conflict with either the knights or the town guards, desist immediately or you will be expelled from the guild and be offered no support if you're placed in trouble with the law. We sponsor mercenaries, not criminals."
"Understood."
"There are, of course, some exceptions to the rule. If a lord hires you and he gets into conflict with another lord then you're allowed to do your job in this case unless the crown specifically forbids the harming of this lord. If your contractor is also planning seditious actions against the crown then you're obliged to inform the guild so as to not harm our reputation."
"Is that all?" He doubted he would hire himself onto a lord. As far as he was aware he was already bonded to Louise for however long he was 'alive'.
"One last thing: A part of the bounty goes to the guild once you succeed. The lower your rank, the higher the cut and once you get high enough you can stop giving cuts and may even get extra rewards depending on how quickly and cleanly you finish jobs. In exchange for following the guild's rules we give you all information you have on your bounties along with giving you jobs whenever you require it. Any sellsword can get a job easy enough, but the guild has connections to the aristocracy and our recommendation is still worth something despite the strikes against our reputation. If you think the rules are too much you can back out now."
"No. It is reasonable," He nodded and turned to go to the bounty board before she stopped him.
"Wait," She grabbed his wrist, "Can you read?"
He opened his mouth to reply before deciding it would be much more prudent to to shake his head, "Great..." She pinched the bridge of her nose, "Just take one of the bounties on the leftmost-side of the board; those are the jobs for rookies. You'll need proof that you did the job, and it can get somewhat grisly. The pictures should tell you all you need, so just give me the paper when you find one you like and I'll read the details of the bounty to you."
Finding a job on the 'rookie side' of the board proved easy enough; many didn't think them worth doing since the amount of effort more often than not wasn't worth the armor repairs, supplies, time and possible injuries the reward promised, "Which one..." He looked at the pictures. The drawings were crude; some of them were of letters and parchment, others were of monsters and ugly facsimiles of of what he assumed to be criminals.
Bandit hunting sounded like something he could benefit from. Apart from the payment he could drain any of them for Humanity if he needed. It would certainly help with the healing of his sustained injures. He doubted a group would approve of his 'habits', so he had to to this alone. With that thought in mind he pulled down the slip of paper before another voice called out.
"So, another would-be-hero? Not many of those around recently." Someone called out from a table nearby.
The source of the voice was a man, though his features made it hard to tell his exact age. Curly blonde hair with with a thin stubble marked by an experienced face. Others would have called him handsome if not for the prominent scar that crossed from from his left forehead to the right of his jawline. The clothes her wore were of a noble's make, embroidered in lion symbols.
He was also the size of a child.
"Well then, lets not be rude now. Come, have a seat," He gestured to the seat across from him before drinking from his wine cup with a slurp. Raziel looked towards the counter before deciding he could humor the man. He still had some time before he was supposed to meet with Louise and perhaps he could ask for advice with this. While he was no stranger to killing this was the first time he'd even been paid for it.
"Josephine never was the most quiet," He started, "Still, you shouldn't fault her for it. More and more mercenaries arrive with each passing day, each hoping to be hired into what is no doubt going to be a terrible conflict. Still, those who survive will earn money and glory.
"Hmm..." He stayed quiet. He didn't want to think about this 'war' he honestly had no motivation to be involved in.
"Ah, but where are my manners," He slid another glass filled with red wine over to him, "Its rude to drink by yourself, especially when you have company," He took another sip of his cup, "You can call me Creon, though that's not my real name," He grabbed the bottle and poured a second helping, "Nobody uses their real names around here. Too many hold a grudge for stupid reasons. So, what's your 'title'?"
"Raziel," He answered quickly. He had no need for a title, and given the origins of his name he doubted it could be considered a proper name. 'Risen Soul', that was what it meant Ghough's language. It was a description, not a name.
"Odd. Never heard that one before," He put his cop down and laced his fingers together, "Everyone picks something that sounds intimidating or leaves a message. Some go for absurd titles like 'Dragonslayer' or 'Odin', like those tales out of legend. Others still use animals or objects like 'The White Wolf', 'The Iron Bull' or 'Blackwall'. Not as fancy but certainly easy to remember.
"Sounds inane," He commented. He hadn't touched the offered drink; pointless to do so.
"Don't let the others hear you say that," He grinned, "You wouldn't believe the number of fights people have had because they wanted a name and someone else already had it. Josephine and the others keep it from getting fatal, but someone is always bound to lose their eye, their or their cock in the ensuing fight. Sometimes all three at once before they get kicked out of the guild."
"And this is...common?" He was beginning to feel extremely glad he didn't join a group.
"Once or twice a month at least," Creon shrugged, "Don't worry, the others will have a name for you soon enough," He clicked his tongue, "They call me 'halfman', rather appropriate don't you think?" He gestured to his lower body, "Josephine gets called 'Witch' by the others. No one wants to tangle with her. Some even thought all she needed was 'a good fucking' - They came back with half their teeth missing or a black eye. Wonder what they'll call you?"
"I do not care. I am not doing this for glory or satisfaction," He looked back to the counter. Perhaps he should leave.
"Keep talking like that and they'll call you 'Bastard'," He smiled sardonically, "Let me give you some advice then: Never forget what you are, they certainly won't," He gestured to the others, "To them you're some kind of glory hound, a stupid child hoping to play at killing. Ignore them. Wear your shame like armor, and it can never be used to hurt you. I know that more than anyone."
"Thank you for the advice," He pushed the drink back and made to stand up. That proved useless. He had been hoping for more practical advice.
"So you're going after Wilhelm and his two brothers then?" Creon looked at the paper Raziel was holding, "Here's a tip; Wilhelm's bandit, but he's a rather poor one. All he can afford to rob are peasant families traveling on the road. Never attacks knights or caravans so no one in the castle up there bothers with him. I've heard that he's slow and his brain's even smaller than his member, so if you move fast you can kill him."
"Look at me, lad: You think I have what it takes to be a mercenary? No, I make contact with the nobility and the lords to get jobs for all the louts here," He spread his hands, "I gather information for contracts and I make contact with Lords. They see a dwarf and think 'This'll be easy' and I walk out with contracts that are beneficial to the guild because by the time they realize I'm not stupid they already signed the decrees. No one ever expects an 'imp' to know how to play the game."
"Then why this charade? Why not tell me what I needed to know?"
"Just a habit of mine," He replied, "Every time a pup comes in here and refuses to join a group they're always young lads with stars in their eyes who think they're going to succeed where everyone else failed. They come in with 'my pa's axe' or 'me mum's old dagger', their faces excited for adventure and thinking about all the oiled up virgins they think they're going to get after every conquest. But you? No I don't get that from you. So what are you here for?"
"Does this matter? I was not aware I had to reveal details of myself for scrutiny."
"Not a requirement per se, but again its a quirk of mine so I hope you'll humor me," He pushed the wine back to him, "You might want to drink. If you ever get into this line of work you'll want to keep yourself drunk for a lot of it," He smirked, "But back on topic, what made you come here? Money? Glory? Trying to join that Phoenix cult? Ever since that explosion at Tarbes they've gotten it in their heads that they should burn the bodies of their enemies. Before them the Siren cult drowned their enemies in favor of their Goddess. Why is every God such a vicious cunt? Why isn't there a God for Tits and Wine?"
"I was not aware there were other deities worshiped...regardless, I came to earn money, not glory or for membership in a cult."
"Oh they're nothing compared to Father Brimir, but we're getting off-topic. My curiosity is sated for now," He tapped his finger on the paper, "Wilhelm's an idiot whose brain is smaller than his sausage, if you can believe that. His brothers are even stupider than he is and are the dumber muscle to his dumb muscle. I recommend you kill them first then go after him. They're as slow as their minds are so if you do it quickly then you can kill them before they realize anything's wrong. Using an arrow or a gun would be helpful. Daft bastards couldn't aim to save their life so staying away from reach is always an option."
"Where are they then?" He pulled the paper back and folded it before stuffing it into his pocket.
"You're lucky; we know exactly where they are - Near the forest, about a 30 minutes walk from here. Talk to Josephine and she'll point it out to you on the map. Once you kill him, cut off his head and bring it back here for a bounty," He tapped his chin, "I recommend bringing a sack to hold it. The guards get jumpy whenever they see severed heads around."
"The head? Is this always the case?"
"No. Mostly you bring an insignia or a ring as proof, but he's not good enough to have either of those. There was a tough bastard back then, called himself 'Cesare' or some other fancy title, but since he attacked the Magic Academy the other bandits are trying to fill up the hole his absence left behind. If you survive you might be able to kill a few of the groups in the board."
"If you know exactly where they are then why have they not already been killed?"
"Because they're not considered important enough. Didn't I explain they only go after traveling peasants? Not caravans or noble carriages. Many knights are made up of noble shits or the third or fourth son of a family that's unlikely to inherit. Parents have no use for them, but they'll still throw a fit if they get hurt so many of them just march around town looking like they have to take a shit and sneering at people they think they can get away with pissing off. The ones that actually do their jobs like the Manticore Knights and the Griffon Knights are too busy serving the royal family themselves. Unless Wilhelm and his brothers decide to attack the palace in broad daylight they're not a problem as far as royalty is concerned."
"And besides," He continued, "Mercenaries are cheaper. You can pay them less than you pay the knights and if they die no one up there cares. If a knight dies you get a pissed off lord or lady using their kid's death as an excuse to pry concessions and they take all that fancy armor with them when they die. You also have to train more knights to replace the ones you lost so its a waste of time too."
"Why am I not surprised..." Raziel shook his head, "Thank you for your advice, Creon." He bowed slightly before making his way back to the counter. He needed to hurry if he wanted to avoid being late for his meeting with Louise.
Louise shuffled on her feet nervously as she saw the lines of nobles disappearing into the throne room. Most came out with forced smiles and cheer, while some came out either crying their eyes out or muttering profanities under their breath. Ever since she'd been crowned acting Queen (though the official ceremony itself had been postponed for now) nobles from all over the land had come in droves to either ask things from her politely or demand them as if it was their right.
She thought they were like wolves nipping at a fat sheep.
Looking down at her uniform, she suddenly felt very inadequate with her attire. All around her she could see older men and women dressed in ornate attire, each of them no doubt trying to impose their status and rise above the rest to garner the new queen's attention. Honestly, a part of her wanted to go back to the academy and change into more appropriate attire before she crushed the thought. Prince- Queen Henrietta was much better than that.
Besides, if she left she might have decided to postpone the meeting altogether out of nervousness, "Alright, calm yourself Louise..." She took a deep breath. It was easy: All she had to do was say 'I pledge my Void to you and vow to fight in this war till my dying breath'. Easy enough, right? Any self-respecting noble would do no less in her position. Her personal friendship only added more incentive.
"Stop shaking..." She admonished herself, holding both hands together to stop herself from shivering. War something she'd heard of in tales and she finally got her first true taste of it in Tarbes. In Albion they had simply tried to escape, but now Tristain would be the one going on the offensive. They would likely have to bypass - or more than likely go through - the remaining fleet Albion had.
What made her even more nervous was the sheer fact that Tristain's fleet alone still lost in both numbers and size to Albion's despite all the losses they suffered in Tarbes and the destruction of the 'Lexington' flagship. Germania could field a vast number of soldiers, but their air fleet left little to be desired in comparison to Gallia (who was staying neutral in the war) and Albion. Romalia had the crusaders as well along with a decent army, but they were required by doctrine to be neutral in all affairs unless directly threatened.
Though she did think Cromwell's declaration would be enough to damn him as a heretic. As it stood Romalia simply decreed that he would never have their support regardless of how much he parroted he was Chosen, but beyond that they had done nothing. Surely the combined armies of Tristain and Germania would be enough...right?
Letting out a held breath, she looked upwards and closed her eyes as she thought back to recent days. The clean-up at Tarbes had taken three days - Three days of healing the wounded, burying or burning the dead, removing the wreckage and whatever else was needed. It was something she had never hoped to repeat so long as she lived. So many crying families, ravaged corpses and destroyed homes. The citizens were being housed in places around the capital, though she didn't exactly where. She had an inkling Raziel did, however.
"Rule of Steel," She said to herself. Follow the rules, uphold the standards of nobility and honor, obey your superiors and be prepared to give your life for your country if they ever called upon you. All rules her mother lived by, and rules she expected her family to follow in as well. To deny her Queen and closest friend aid in her time of need would bring shame not only upon her but her family as well.
"Brimir, this is stressful," She clasped her hands in prayer and intoned another plea for blessing from above. Ever since Tarbes she'd found that her amount of prayer had increased in recent days, no doubt helped by the revelation that she was a Void Mage. Despite the trauma she received from first using her powers she had to admit she felt a certain vindication at the thought that all those years of being called 'Zero' were false. She was a true Mage. More than that she was a Void Mage, one of the heirs to Holy Brimir's legacy. It gave her a much needed boost to her ego.
It was a shame that she could never tell anyone. She would have at least liked to tell her family, but if they ever found out she had little doubt they would lock her in the estate like a porcelain doll; all too fragile and easy to break.
Still, whatever trials they faced in the coming days she was relieved that Raziel would be by her side. Granted she had her misgivings about him, and his actions at Tarbes did little to ease her mind, but he had proven a good enough fighter and followed her orders whenever she imposed them on him. She would likely have to rescind the rule that he avoid killing once they got into Albion proper, but that could wait. Still, he had been doing better in the past few days. Much more stable compared to before.
Elsewhere as she thought this, Raziel was busy trying to separate Wilhelm's head from his body, "Come on..." He scowled and swung the sword down again. The sword he had gotten wasn't even half as sharp as Derflinger was. He couldn't wait to get his partner back, "The money better help with the rebuilding," He wiped the blood from his lips as the bald bandit's head finally left with an audible snapping of bone. Hey, Louise never said anything about killing when on his own.
Now to find a sack.
"I'm sorry Madame Amitee, but your request has been denied," Henrietta winced slightly as the old dowager let out a gasp that sounded as if a frog had jumped into her throat. Ignoring her scandalized 'Why ever not!?' she continued, "Your request to, um," she looked closer again to see one last time if she wasn't imagining things, "Bequeath everything to your pet cat 'Horatio' and name him your official heir cannot be granted."
"He is no mere cat!" She admonished, "He has been a stalwart companions over the years I've known him! He was the only one there for me when poor Robert died!"
"Regardless of the connection you two share," She looked to the side and closed her eyes briefly in disbelief, "The law requires that the estate and other holdings are given to a proper heir. In the absence of one the crown is legally required to give it to whomever else inherits the position, whether it be one of your vassals or otherwise. This...'Horatio' cannot be named heir regardless of your personal feelings. My sincerest apologies."
"This is outrageous!" She protested, "Who will take care of poor Horatio when I'm gone!?"
"Surely there is a vassal you can trust to care for him?" Henrietta broached, "If you name him or her your heir then surely your pet- companion will be well taken care off in the years to come."
"Bah, I trust none of those snakes!" She hissed, "Each of them look at the estate with the eyes of a vulture! My poor Horatio...what are we to do..." She raised up her handkerchief and choked back a sob. Henrietta had to resist the urge to yell in frustration as she rubbed her forehead and let out a calming breath.
"Madame Amitee, I am truly sorry for your troubles, but the law is clear. Either name an official heir before your death or the crown will be forced to decide for you among your vassals," She pointedly ignored the continued sobbing. It would have been pitiful if the case wasn't so bizarre and she hadn't been frustrated from the previous meetings. She was the last noble he had to meet today before she could see Louise again, "I am afraid I can no longer help you. Please discuss it with Lord Richmon, perhaps he might be able to help you."
Though she doubted anyone would help her regardless of how sympathetic they were. She'd known Lord Richmon since she was a child; he was stern, distant and a true believer of the law. Despite this he was fair as far as she knew, so if anyone could be expected to treat this with any amount of sense it would be him.
She watched the dowager leave with no small amount of relief and all but collapsed back onto her throne once the door closed. Had Cardinal Mazarin been here now he would have admonished her for slouching. 'Royalty do not slump in their seats like common servants', he would say. She had insisted on meeting with the nobles alone 'for experience' and now she was sincerely regretting. She would take the Cardinal's lectures if it also meant receiving his advice.
The door opening with a great groan snapped her out of her slump. She watched as Agnes welcomed the Louise and her Familiar into the room before quickly closing the door behind her. Good, she didn't want anyone to hear what they were about to discuss. She mouthed a silent thank you to the stoic musketeer before her eyes shifted to her friend. She could make out whispered arguments and Louise shoving a handkerchief to her Familiar's hands.
Upon closer inspection she could make out traces of blood coating his fingers before Louise frantically wiped them clean with the cloth. With a roll of his eyes he also rubbed his face before stuffing the handkerchief in his pocket.
She decided to ignore their display, "Louise, Sir. Raziel, it's good to see you again," She stood up from the throne - her throne she quickly reminded herself - and made her way to them, "I wish I could have met you both sooner, but the previous days had been mired with discussion on our next course of action. I suppose you both know now that war with Albion has been offically declared."
"Yes. It was all many in school talked about," Louise nodded, bowing slightly for formality's sake.
"Mercenaries have also increased in numbers. Groups of them roam the town or congregate at the guild," Raziel commented softly. He could still remember Josephine's shocked face as she saw Wilhelm's head clumsily stuffed int a sack being offered to her, and he had a feeling it had nothing to do with disgust at the the presence of a severed head. Still she had given him his reward and left it at that.
20 ecus. Not even close to being enough, but at least he had fed on one of Wilhelm's brothers before killing them all.
"Just so," She nodded, "I...suppose there's nothing much to say. War will happen, it is an inevitability, now the only matter to discuss will be...your roles in it," She ended hesitantly. Louise had already promised her during their stay at Tarbes that she would follow her decisions and use her Void to assist, but Henrietta still felt hesitant. Right now she could rescind her offer and she would accept it. Her friend was far too important to force into war like this.
"Y-Yes," Louise looked down and shuffled her feet. Her tongue felt as it if it had been tied in knots and she found it difficult to swallow. Despite herself she found herself turning to look towards Raziel in the hopes of finding support.
"I follow what Louise will decide," Raziel intoned. Louise couldn't help stepping on his foot in frustration, though he gave no reaction to her attack save a slightly raised eyebrow, "As I recall she already pledged herself to your cause, in which case there is nothing left to discuss. If she choose to take back her word then I have nothing to add as well."
"IpledgemyselfandtheVoidtoyouQueenHenrietta!" Louise quickly stumbled out before Raziel could say another word that could potentially embarrass both of them. A noble rescinding her word? Never!, "I-I mean, I pledge myself and the Void to you, Queen Henrietta," Louise repeated, slower this time, "Here now, in the royal court, I solemnly vow to give my life if you deem it necessary."
"Please don't offer your life away so easily, Louise," She shook her head, "And please do not call me Queen. A Queen's existence is one of burden and I do not wish for my closest friend to remind me of it as well. Will you not cal me the same as you have before?"
"If-If it is your wish, Princess Henrietta," Louise smiled in response. Calling her princess felt much more natural, "If you ever need my aid then know I will always be there to give it in life or death. The pledge of a Valliere is eternal and one that will never be broken so long as we remain honorable subjects."
"I...thank you, Louise," Henrietta took the younger girl's hand in their own, "Such trust must be reciprocated. From now on you are my court lady, one of my most trusted in and out of court. In time I will grant you a writ and with it you shall be granted partial immunity to the law. I am placing this trust in you because I know you will never abuse this right."
"You-You are generous, Princess," She reciprocated the hold and tried to suppress the wide smile. She must remain punctual, not jump for joy like and overexcited child.
Raziel contented himself with sighing at the dramatic scene and looking out the window. The sun was still up, and if he was lucky then he could get another two bounties before the day was done. Messenger jobs held little interest to him since moving from village to village delivering parchments seemed pointless but he could probably kill that orc nest if his rank was considered high enough.
"You as well, Sir. Raziel," He snapped back to the conversation. She was talking to him? "I did not forget your contribution at Tarbes and Louise tells me it was by your intervention that she had enough time to cast the miracle that saved us all," She bowed slightly, "I am grateful to you as well. If there is any reward you seek and it is within my power then I will grant it."
Louise gave him another look and mouthed something from behind the monarch, "Don't you dare!" While the warning was vague enough he knew what she was referring to - His mind traced back to his first sighting of her. Truly beautiful, and he couldn't even fathom as to why. Her very figure simply enamored him and he found her as radiant and beautiful as Solaire found the sun.
...But no, he had to focus on more important things, "Any aid you can give in Tarbes' revival would be appreciated, Your Majesty," He bowed in return. The needs of the many over the needs of the few...normally he didn't believe in this mindset but he had to make an exception. Sacrifices had to be made for those who suffered in this pointless war over power.
"Of course. It is the least I can do." Henrietta smiled. It would be difficult, but it was something she had always planned to do regardless of his request.
It was better Raziel not know that lest he give in to despair, however.
"I will do all I can to assist in this endeavor as well," He continued, "I will give whatever funds I raise to you or anyone you deem trustworthy. I wish to aid with those who were...affected by what happened."
"Of course. I welcome your assistance as well. What happened at Tarbes was a tragedy, one that should never be repeated."
Raziel declined to reply to that statement, waiting instead for Louise and the Queen to finish their conversation so they could leave. With one last promise to contact one another soon, the pair left and were once again faced with the crowds and yells of merchants as they offered whatever stoked someone's fancy.
He took one last look at the palace and wondered idly if anyone would be able to find the message he'd left behind prior to the meeting; the meaning of it escaped him, but he'd seen it written multiple times in front of Gwynevere's door and thought it would be harmless fun to write it in one of the corners. What better way to test the soapstone than writing a message? He just hoped Louise wouldn't find it. He couldn't imagine what punishments she'd dole out on him.
"I was expecting you to make a fool of yourself," Louise dodged out of the way of a pair of running kids before taking hold on his wrist. She didn't want to get separated, "You looked like a lost puppy when you arrived at the palace. I was praying to father Brimir that you wouldn't embarrass the both of us in front of the princess and ask to see the Queen."
"Bring shame to you, Louise? I would never dream of doing so," She rolled her eyes at his glib reply, "Regardless, I have my priorities in order. Tarbes is all that matters. Siesta's family and the rest of the villagers cannot stay here forever and I cannot expect them to be harbored well here with the preparations for war."
"You know its not just the buildings that were destroyed, right? The land was as well. Even if the buildings are restored I doubt they could make a living there," He pursed his lips but said nothing. She sighed before pulling him towards one of the stalls, "Come on, I think both of us need a break. You still have a few hours to go before we pick up that stupid sword so we might as well take this time to take a break. Its been days since we could relax."
"Hmm..."
"Oh come on, what's wrong?" She eyed the stall. They were selling sailor uniforms looted from some of the surviving wreckage, but those held little interest to her, "You've been depressed...well, more depressed than usual."
"Apart from Tarbes being destroyed you mean?" He asked back flatly, "Yes, I suppose other wonders plague my mind," He scowled as an armored man bumped his shoulder. He was beginning to dislike crowds, "Guiche has been acting strange the past few days."
"What's wrong with him? He's flirting with girls like he usually is." She dragged him to the next stall. This time it was a jewelry stall selling necklaces and earrings. Obviously fake, but they looked pretty and that was enough for her, "Montmorency's angry with him, but that's nothing new."
"No. His actions are more...forceful, almost desperate even," He winced as a child playing with a wooden sword accidentally hit his shins. This was getting annoying, "I think he is trying to forget all that has happened in Tarbes and he is doing it the only way he knows how...he must fear what will happen once the invasion of Albion begins. His actions at Tarbes haunt him, that much is clear."
Falling back into old habits to try and stave off despair. He'd seen enough of it by now to know that it never worked.
"You're thinking too much about it," She picked up a shell-shaped necklace. It was pretty enough and she still had enough money left over from the Fouquet bounty, "Guiche's just being his usual stupid self. Not everyone is hiding some secret pain, alright? Some people are just like that," She gave the salesman three ecus and handed the necklace to him, "Here, put this around my neck will you?"
He smiled slightly as he unclasped the chain before wrapping it around her neck. He was glad she was at least enjoying herself, "I hope you are right," He removed his hands from her neck and stared at the market stalls, "Chester also worries me..."
"Why? Didn't you kill him?" She clicked her tongue, "I know why you did it and I still don't agree exactly, but you've told me enough about him that I know he's no innocent. Like this 'Patches' fellow, correct?"
"He's survived far longer than he should have," His eyes narrowed, "I should have burned his body in the pyre. I left too many things unsure. Chester wasn't blind, he had to have known his life was in danger when he acted the way he did."
"Are you sure he didn't expect it?"
"No, I am sure. He may be an old man but his reflexes are as sharp as when I fought him in Oolacile," He touched his cheek as he remembered the cut he been given, "I hope I am wrong and that he is dead. Fate has given him too many chances as it is and he's taken enough of others lives to extend his own."
"Does what he said trouble you? That thing about cycles and children of the dark?" She asked warily.
"No," He answered forcefully, "The ramblings of a madman, nothing more."
She had expected that answer. With a sigh she grabbed his hand and pulled deeper into the crowd, "Come on, we should look around while the day is young. We might not get a chance to do this again..." She frowned for a brief moment as thoughts of war plagued her mind. Would she make it through this? She would have liked to think so but the experience at Tarbes was a harrowing experience. They barely made it and nearly died multiple times. Could she count on that luck to save her again? She honestly didn't know.
One again, she finally felt death pulling at her.
Seeing his master's frowning face, Raziel bit his tongue and dragged her to a stall selling dresses, "Did you not wish to try on new clothing? I will admit I am no master at aesthetics but I will do my best to assist you.
She could see how much he was forcing himself. She doubted he would be of any help, but it made her happy that he was trying, "I...thanks, Raziel," She smiled at him and laughed.
"For what?" He smiled slightly in response.
"Nothing," She pushed him back in mock offense, "Just shut up and hold my dresses. We're going to be here a while."
Montorentcy grit her teeth as the chilling night air swept through her. With a deep breath, removed herself from the stone railing and stomped back towards the table. A candle, a rose, and a single bottle of wine. Bare-bones perhaps, but for what she was doing she didn't need any distractions. From her pocket she produced a small, indistinct bottle filled with a slightly pink liquid.
"Its all his fault...!" She let out a throaty sound of frustration. After Tarbes his flirting with with other women had gotten much worse. Previously he'd flirt with first years, and even then only when he was reasonably sure he wouldn't be caught. She hated that he did it, but he was her fiancee and as far as she was aware he'd never actually crossed that line with any of his 'conquests'.
Now, however, he had absolutely no limits. In class she would catch glimpses of him slipping notes or roses to female classmates sitting next to him; during breaks for food he would pull a girl away from her friends to bombard her with compliments and flattery; even during the night or at the library he would make any excuse to chat up women, practically ignoring their not-so-subtle refusal to his advances.
But no, what she couldn't forgive was when she found him and another underclassman alone together in a room, her uniform buttons untied as Guiche desperately called her back after she had run away with her entire face beet red. That was it, he had crossed the line and she wouldn't be so easy to forgive.
Immediately she thought of breaking up with him. After all their union was decided by their parents and for political reasons, so it wasn't as if she had the chance to fall in love with him naturally. In fact she could even go as far as to say she hated him...
"I hate him..." She muttered to herself, though she knew well enough that was a lie. For all his faults there was something that kept her from separating herself from him. This time...this time he had crossed the line, and she had to make sure there were no repeat incidents.
She looked down at the vial in her hand. A love potion, one of the most forbidden potions known throughout Halkeginia due to how it manipulated a person's entire mindset. She'd first made concoction out of pure curiosity, a challenge to herself to see if she could make it perfectly. She'd heard of failed mixtures that caused feelings of lust with a single sniff. What she wanted to create was a perfect elixir, one that could be controlled and be nearly undetectable.
When she succeeded she'd planned to keep it in her shelf as a small trophy, but Guiche's renewed focus on her changed her plans. Ever since most of the students went back to their families for the holidays he'd acted as if he'd done nothing wrong and went back to singing her praises. She felt enraged; he was acting as if she was a blind cripple who hadn't seen his blatant attempts at adultery.
Still, she had played the fool and allowed him to invite her out to a moonlit drink. 'Just the two of us', he said. Well, she wasn't going to take any more chances. With one last deep breath she opened the vial and poured the potion into the bottle. The wine was a rare vintage so the bottle was small, just barely enough for a single cup for the both of them. She wouldn't be drinking tonight.
"Ah, my dear Montmorency! Forgive me for my delay!" Guiche announced himself, waving his rose wand as he always did, "My beautiful Verdande was acting up and I had to sooth her. I trust I didn't make you wait long?"
"No, of course not. I just arrived here myself," She answered with a forced smile, though her fiancee failed to notice her audible strain, "Come, come. Why don't you take a seat? The moons are beautiful tonight and I'm sure we have a lot to talk about," Her eyes flickered to the wine again. She didn't want to risk pouring it in after he was already present. She had to make sure to avoid drinking even a single drop. She wanted him faithful, not the both of them stuck together like rabbits.
"Ah, of course. The night is calm and I thank Father Brimir that I should spend it with such a beautiful woman," He took a seat across from her, "You are my inspiration, Montmorency. It was due to you that I survived that nightmarish attack and why I still breath to this day. You are my inspiration, my light. No, you are my sun!" She blinked in surprise. The last one was certainly new.
"I'm sure that's what you told that first year a couple of days ago " She made sure to add just the right amount of coldness to her voice. She wanted to make it clear that this wasn't like every other time where he could get away after a few worded apologies.
"Um, of course, about that-"
"Nevermind, we're not here to discuss that," She interrupted, "Why don't you pour us some wine? Its a wonderful night and I would hate to waste this wine. I heard the stars form shapes of ethereal beauty at the right time of night."
"You're much more beautiful than any star!" He was really laying the flattery thick tonight, she thought as she watched him pour enough wine to nearly empty the bottle, "Ah, should we make a toast then? I'm afraid I have no suggestions to celebrate for. Every moment I spend with you is so special that it warrants no mere gesture could do it justice," Okay, now he was just being overtly pretentious.
"To a new beginning then," She raised up her cup to meet his before placing it down on the table again. Not taking notice of her odd statement, Guiche gleefully drank the wine and put down with a gleeful smile after he had finished. The vintage was a rare one, but he was glad he had gone through the trouble of procuring it. It would make everything he did now all the more easier.
"Well, not with that done I-" He stumbled forward and gripped the table as a sudden warmth spread through him. it wasn't unpleasant by any means; in fact it felt as if he was being raised up to the clouds with the gentle hands of angels. He blinked and shook his head as he swallowed a mouthful of air. The feeling of happiness surrounding him was all that mattered. He didn't care about anything else.
No, wait, there was someone he cared about more than anyone else.
"Montmorency..." He whispered her name, the words like honey on his tongue. He loved her- No, he was enamored with her- No, wait, they were soulmates! Thoughts of her dominated every part of his being. His family, his friends and even past flirtations; none of it mattered compared to her. Her divine beauty, her illimitable kindness and untouched purity. He didn't deserve her, but he so desperately wanted her.
"Guiche...are you alright?" She asked somewhat warily. She'd read up on the effects of love potions and she never recalled there any records of them ever causing what looked like physical pain.
"Yes, I'm fine so long as you're here," She nearly jumped in her seat as he caressed her face, "Montmorency, have I ever told you that I love you?" She opened her mouth to reply before he cut her off, "No, my previous declarations were the mere falsehoods, fabrications that I can never take back. That is why, here under the gaze of the twin vows I solemnly make a vow," He knelt down in front of her, his right hand holding onto hers gently.
"Guiche..." She felt conflicted. This was exactly what she'd wanted, but it all came from that potion.
"My heart is yours, milady. I vow to defend you as your knight and protector till death should part us," He brought her hand up to his lips and placed a soft kiss atop her fingers. She found her cheeks reddening despite her best attempts to suppress her blush. It wasn't anything he hadn't done before but it suddenly felt all the more gallant without the obvious flattery, "Your wishes are my desires. If it is my life you desire then I give it gladly for I cannot imagine an existence without you by my side."
Before she could say anything else he stood up and drew closer to her, "I love you..." He cupped her chin and forced her to look up. Montmorency closed her eyes and melted into his arms as they kissed, her fingers curling and a moan barely escaping her lips as he draw one of his hands across her hair. The cool night breeze sent tingles across her spine as she leaned into the kiss.
This...this was all that she wanted. For him to stay as faithful to her as she did to him. To not have to worry about running into him in another darkened corner as he whispered flattery he'd told her the day beforehand. She wanted him to cherish the presents and tokens of affection she spent sleepless nights making rather than giving them away to his other targets.
The sounds of clattering glass knocked her out of her reverie, "W-Wait, Guiche..." She pushed him away as his hands began to unbutton her uniform. No, not like this, not on top of a table like a pair of common servants. She was saving herself for marriage like a proper lady should, "I don't want to that yet, not like this..." She looked back at the table and winced as she saw the spilled glasses and the wine bottle rolling on the floor.
"Not like this- Oh, but of course! How foolish of me!" Guiche's face looked down in shame, "A woman of your stature has no place in a table! Come, come, let us go to my room and I will show you the comforts you deserve!"
"Huh? W-Wait!" She could do nothing as her lovestruck fiancee dragged her down the stairs. All she could do was look at the spilled glasses before he swept her up in his arms and ran towards his room like a madman.
"What am I supposed to do with this?"
Raziel blinked as he caught sight of head chef Marteu looking at a bottle of what he presumed to be wine in utter confusion. He didn't expect the man to be outside the kitchen, though he supposed it made sense considering all the students had left. His master's mood had improved ever since Kirche had left though he wished he could see Tabitha; he had finally gotten some Humanity and wanted to pay back the debt.
The bearded man's face lit up in a smile as he caught sight of the Undead, "Ho there, Raziel! Been a while since I've seen you!" He clapped him in the back with his free hand, causing him to stumble forward slightly. He never understood how a cook could get so strong.
"It is good to see you as well, Marteu," Raziel faked a cough as he rubbed his back, "What matter ails you?"
"Ails me? Ah, nothing, just some wine I found up in the tower. A lot of the other guys and girls went back to their homes for the break and I'm pitching in with the clean up," He shook the bottle of wine, "Well, I found this bottle up there along with some spilled glass. A couple of the students staying here must have gotten drunk or something. Anyway, I was just going to throw it but the thing seems too valuable to just toss in the trash"
"How so?"
"I know my wines, boy, I'm not the head chef of this academy for nothing. This is a rare vintage, has to be fermented for at least 20 years, chilled with some ice magic and its made from ingredients you can only find i Gallia. Whoever ordered this must have been planning something real big," He let out a sigh, "Shame I promised the wife back home I'd cut back on the drinking or I''d finish it myself. As it is it just feels like a waste to just toss."
"Hmm, then I hope you find the answer to your quandary," Raziel turned to leave before Marteu suddenly grabbed his shoulder.
"Wait, why don't you take it?" He shoved the bottle in his arms before he could refuse, "Come on, learn to live a little! I dunno what your master must be feeding ya but you look pretty damn thin so it must not be much. There's just a little bit left so just drink it and savor the taste. Trust me, wines like this are hard to come by so even a few sips are worth an arm and a leg."
"...If it pleases you. My thanks then," He gave a quick bow before making his way back up to the tower where Louise's room was located. Normally he would see at least a few students passing through the stairway, though more often than not they would either ignore him or whisper to one another about his continued presence and and how his being a Familiar was a complete farce.
As he drew closer to Louise's room he looked at the bottle in his hand. He doubted it would mean anything, but Marteu was insistent and he could humor the man. He brought the bottle up to his lips and nearly choked as the liquid splashed down his throat. It tasted...somewhat sour. No, more than that it actually tasted like something. He lowered the bottle and wiped away the slight dribbles that escaped his lips.
Another change, though this one wasn't necessarily so bad. He opened the door their shared room with a slight feeling of curiosity,
"Where have you been?" Louise greeted from the bed, her eyes never leaving the small book she held in her hands. Ever since they had come back from Tarbes she had spent every waking moment of her free time studying the book and its contents to understand how the 'Void' functioned.
"Taking a walk," Off to the side Derflinger was still in his scabbard, his shiny new blade hidden by the worn leathers. He must have been sleeping, "Any more luck with the book?" He couldn't help his lips quirking up slightly as he saw Louise wearing an oversized shirt. She had bought them for him so he could have a little more variation with his wardrobe but he couldn't help but think she'd bought it for her own comfort as well.
"None," She swung her legs from the bed's edge, "Some riddles I can't make out, but nothing like the spell instructions I received during Tarbes. I even tried thinking real hard about what I wanted and still nothing."
"It might depend. What were you thinking about?"
"The usual. Power to make me invincible, invisibility, a spell that targets only Germanians and particularly certain redheads," He laughed slightly, though he couldn't tell if she was speaking it in jest or not, "Still nothing. I need to think of something before- Hey, is that wine?" She trailed off as she saw the bottle in his hand.
"Yes. Head Chef Marteu gave it to me; it is apparently some sort of rare drink."
"I'll say. The markings on the bottle are from a renowned vineyard. Get me a glass and pour some. I need a break from all this reading."
"My apologies, Louise. There was only a little bit left and I drank the remainder," He placed the empty bottle at the small table, "Still, I found that I could taste it. Another change it seems, though I know not what it means."
"Argh, dang it," She pouted cutely and drew her legs to her chest as she...wait, cutely? Since when did he think of his master as cute? He shook his head and grimaced. That was a thought he didn't need to entertain, "Well, if you're able to taste that's actually a good thing. I can't imagine what it must be like living without being able to enjoy a decent meal. It sounds like a nightmare."
Her lips, soft and the color of pink cherries. Her hair, long and beautiful with the most vibrant of colors that would put even a Goddess to shame. Oh how he would would have liked to run his hands through it, to hold her close in the vain hope that she could feel the same as he did for her-
Something was VERY wrong.
"Raziel, is something wrong?" Her eyebrows knitted together as Raziel closed his eyes in what seemed to be pain, "Is...Is it another memory? Come on, maybe you should lie down," She rushed over to him and and grabbed his shoulders to steady him.
Thoughts of her plagued his mind. She was close now, close enough that he could make out the smell of the soap and the sweet smell of her hair, "Come on, lean on me. I don't want you falling," He wanted to confess, to say the words he meant with all his heart. Deciding to take a leap of faith he grabbed her by her shoulders and, ignoring her look of shock, said the three words he'd never thought he would say.
"...I...I love you..." His face burned bright red as he forced the words out.
Louise's face was blank. She opened her mouth to say something before she closed it again. This repeated a few more times before she finally decided on an appropriate reaction.
"...What?"
Finally done. Easter Eggs and Shout outs ahoy! Now I know the mercenary segment felt like filler, but that factors in later so don't worry. That and it gives an idea what characters are doing in between time skips.
This chapter was a pain to write; I use word and my chrome kept crashing and deleting my saves. I need a break.
ApocryphalFreeze - Yeah, I was rushing that bit. Rewrote the chapter to have a more in-character reaction. Hope its better.
Necrofantasia - Bit harsh. Dying maybe, but not Hell. Also, Chester's no innocent, or did you forget the bit where he casually mentions killing researchers for their work with the same tone he'd use to describe the weather? Raziel wasn't wrong, but Chester's no undeserving victim. Raziel at least acknowledges as well that it wasn't out of morality but pure spite.
GeaRMasteR9 - Don't forget that the only person who discuss Lordran and its characters are Raziel and, to a lesser extent, Chester and neither are the most unbiased and credible sources. Gwyndolin tricked him, so he's obviously biased against him, and with Gwynevere he makes the worst-case assumption due to his cynical views. As for the Herald, that came from Chester and he's a known bastard with details. Still, loreists pretty much agree that the ending for DS2 is kilning the flame and that the Herald was luring Undead to Drangleic with rumors of a cure (actually true if you do the DLCs) to find someone to break the cycle. Just wait till other viewpoints pop up since Raziel doesn't know the whole story. The only one we SEE being a dick is Lautrec, and he IS canonically an asshole regardless of motives and its in-character for him to stab you in the back.
Ninja4hir3 - Solaire is dead, I think I said this before. As much as everyone likes him, myself included, his life ended on the Izalith pathway same with Siegmeyer, Laurentius, Logan, Griggs etc etc whose story ends badly.
ArmorOfGeddon - Great to see you again :)
Guest - Already made it a swan, sorry.
MERRY CHRISTMAS EVERYONE!