Apologies for the wait everyone. An unfortunate mix of burnout, writer's block, and work being an absolute bastard made this chapter a bitch to finish. Please enjoy.


Interlude: The Avenger

I will always remember the moment I learned what true hate is.

I thought I understood, growing up in Eastern Ferox. The land is difficult to survive in at the best of times, and completely inhospitable at the worst. I've seen horrible things growing up. Things which most people could never imagine. Towns torn apart by bandits. Children freezing to death in their mother's arms. Men beating each other to death for a loaf of bread.

The farther you get from the relative wealth of Gelida Dominus the more common such sights become. The farthest outskirts of Regna Ferox are a lawless place, and I've spent more years than I'd like in those godforsaken towns. Spent years seeing people tear each other apart and believing I knew what hate was. Thinking I hated the world for its cruelty, hated the people for tearing each other down.

That all changed the day that monster laughed in my face.

I had resented him before that moment. I knew the men he had killed. Garth was the proud older brother of one of Flavia's personal chefs. Dean was a father of two, with a third child on the way. The monster killed them both, in a fight that I understand in retrospect should never have happened. For a while, a part of me even held some faint glimmer of respect for the man, for doing what needed to be done to protect his ally.

Then he showed his true colors. Laughed at the death of two proud, loyal, good men. Spat curses and blood into my face in equal measure even as I struck him. Absolved himself of his crimes while declaring me to be responsible for the death he inflicted.

How could he appear to be anything but evil after what he did?

And yet I was forced to let him go free that day.

He laughed at my pain and yet I was forced to leave in disgrace.

And that was when I learned what hate was. As I walked away from that murderer, unable to make him suffer for what he did, I felt some black emotion within me stir that had remained silent all my life.

And I swore to myself that someday I would find a way to make that monster suffer for what he did. And as I stand here now and see what he is truly capable of I find that this cause is even greater than I had imagined.

The same red that stained his hands as he tore out Garth's throat now coats the walls around me. Bodies are scattered everywhere throughout the ruined building where he had performed his twisted acts. Many of those who had come to investigate the scene have already fled the building to puke. Those that remain are not much better off, myself included, as we walk this bloody hall. Only my Khan remains resolute, stepping casually around a giant of a man with a Warhammer jutting out of his chest ahead of me.

"All this at the hands of one man." Another of Flavia's guard mutters in awe.

"Did you see what he looked like when that kid brought him in? I swear I could see inside his ribcage. He had an arrow sticking right through him!"

"No kidding? It'll be a miracle if he's not dead by the time we're back."

The thought is not unpleasant. But I don't believe it for a second. "He'll survive." I growl, stalking behind Flavia. "Inhuman bastard."

The others fall into an uneasy silence. Flavia sends me a warning glance. I feel only more indignant at the look in her eyes.

"You know I'm right, Flavia!" I snarl. "That's a monster lying in your infirmary, not a man. The things he's done here only prove it!"

I feel all too vindicated when we find the remains of Ezra. What is left of him could barely be identified as human. It is enough to leave even me struggling for words.

"Just a mad butcher." I find myself saying, as I stare in horror at the vile sight. Yet more proof of the truth I hold firm in my heart. All the battlefields I've seen and I have never witnessed anything as foul as what happened to the slaver captain.

It's a pleasant surprise when I later find the title has stuck. The Butcher. A fitting name for the monster who killed good men and laughed. A fitting name for the beast who left men unmade and coated the walls with blood. A fitting name for the sort of devil who tore a corpse apart piece by piece even as the blood poured from his own chest.

Perhaps in time the world may come to see him in the same manner I do. Then maybe I can finally make up for failing to stop him from killing my men. Then maybe I can face them in the afterlife.


"You've been spreading the story of what happened to Ezra quite a bit."

The comment seems casual, but from Khan Flavia it can be anything but. "Is that a problem?" I reply innocently, keeping my gaze fixed into the distance. From here I can just barely see the standards of Chrom's Shepherds as they begin their long trek back to Ylisstol. "I was not told it was to be kept secret."

"You weren't…" Flavia says, eyes sharpening, "But I've noticed you keeping much of the story secret all the same. Don't think I haven't noticed everything you've been omitting from your stories, Raimi."

I stiffen in spite of myself. "I'm not sure what you-"

"Finish that sentence and see where that gets you." Flavia replies, voice lowering dangerously. "I did not become the Eastern Khan by being a fool, Raimi. Do you think I don't see through your games?"

"I'm not playing games!" I snap.

"Could have fooled me!" Flavia snorts, "You're certainly not dealing with things like an adult. It's almost laughable. One of my best knights is spending all her hours gossiping away like a young maiden."

"What would you have me do then?" I reply helplessly, "You told me yourself that I'm not allowed to settle things with him properly!"

"Things are settled properly! Or at least they were, before you decided to start impersonating some Plegian snake! You tried to kill Chrom's people, and one of them hit back harder than you were expecting. I'm not going to drag this out of proportion because you finally got your damn nose bloodied!"

"This isn't a bloody nose, damn you!" I yell furiously, storming towards my Khan, "He killed my people! MY PEOPLE!"

Flavia reacts the moment I'm in arms reach, her arm snapping out faster than I can see and sending me tumbling. I yell in surprise and pain, not expecting the blow, and before I can recover she's lifted me off the ground by my breastplate. "You killed their people first you damn fool! You killed peaceful messengers from a foreign country! You're damned lucky Ylisse didn't see fit to demand your head on a pike!"

Lucky? Is that truly so lucky a thing? Would they truly have asked such a thing?

…Would my Khan truly have given in to such a demand? As I look into her eyes I see only fury and disappointment. I'm not sure I know the answer to that question anymore. What am I worth to her, really?

If Flavia is aware of the effect her words have had on me she does nothing to show it, merely tossing me aside in disgust and continuing her tirade, "Let me be clear, here and now. If you keep pushing like this I will not protect you when it comes back to bite you in the ass. I'm washing my hands of this whole damned affair. As far as I'm concerned this matter ended the moment Chrom saw fit to spare you on that wall. I will not risk a war with Ylisse for the sake of two dead soldiers. We've got problems enough around here with the Plegians sniffing around our borders; I won't throw away our only ally just to appease your grudge. Do I make myself clear?"

It is with no small amount of difficulty that I manage to respond, pushing myself off the ground and gasping for breath, "…Crystal."

"…Good." Flavia replies, watching me closely. "You're a good soldier, Raimi. And a good leader. I respect your dedication to the men and women you command. Admire it, even. But you can't avenge everyone. Sometimes accidents happen. Sometimes when things go to shit it's just because you were dealt a bad hand. You need to learn to move on when that happens. Don't go creating monsters in your head."

"I understand." I say, nodding bitterly.

And I do. I know my cause is just, but Flavia's own view is made clear enough. She doesn't see The Butcher in the same light that I do. Even if she did, she can't afford to act on it. She is the leader, not just of her part of Ferox, but of the whole country now. And my vengeance isn't worth causing difficulties for all of Regna Ferox in her eyes.

I know why she thinks that way. The reasoning is clear. And yet the part of me that understands is such a tiny thing compared to the part screaming out that I am the only one who cares about those two dead soldiers. Those two good men who died for their country.

Logic be damned, I will not forget them like everyone else has.


"So, is this a bad night for personal reasons or political?"

I look up from my firewine to the man who's just taken the seat next to me at the bar. "What?"

"You're a soldier right? One of Khan Flavia's?" His eyes are dark, but seem to glitter as he regards me, and his bright blonde hair is just long enough to frame a face that shines with open curiosity.

"I am…" I do my best to focus, eyeing the nosy stranger cautiously.

"Well, I guess…" He chuckles sheepishly, "Sorry, I know I shouldn't be prying like this, but when I saw you drinking like this I felt… concerned. So I guess I wanted to know if you're here for personal reasons, or if I should be bracing myself for some sort of bad news in the near future. There's been so much talk of war lately, after all…"

"Ah." I grunt in understanding. "Well, you needn't worry on that front just yet. Ylisse hasn't dragged us into their problems with Plegia as of yet."

"I- I see." The man replies, no doubt taken aback at my tone. "I take it you have some issues with the Khan's new allies?"

"Some personal issues, yes." I reply bitterly. And personal they will remain, for as long as I am the only one who gives a shit about justice for our fallen in this damned country.

"Would you like to talk about it?" The man asks.

"Hell no." I reply immediately.

"Are you sure?" I shoot the man a glare and he holds his hands up peacefully. "Easy now! I'm not looking for trouble ma'am, I just thought you looked in need of a friendly ear, that's all. Seems like you've had a rough time of things."

He certainly sounds… earnest. I push past the pounding headache I've given myself to examine the nosy patron more closely. He looks to be a small fellow, though that may just be because his robes are clearly very oversized. Looks like a strong breeze would knock him over. Hardly seems the dependable type. Still, he looks genuine enough. And there is no small part of me that hasn't longed for somebody to just listen to me as of late. For so long now my every word has fallen on deaf ears.

I'm just barely sober enough to know that I should keep my mouth shut, but regrettably am still drunk enough not to give a shit. The man proves a good listener, nodding along in sympathy as I tell him about my hopeless cause. About losing two good soldiers and being denied any chance to avenge them.

At the end of my tale he shakes his head sadly. "That's terrible. Absolutely terrible. To think that this man could be allowed to get away with such a thing. Those soldiers of yours are lucky to have had you as commander, miss."

"I'm beginning to question the truth of that statement." I reply bitterly. "The Khan seems to believe that their deaths are my responsibility. That I failed in my duties. That the man who killed my soldiers was faultless."

"Bullshit. That's just politics getting in the way of good sense is what that is! Happens all the time, unfortunately. Take me, for instance. I've been tracking a man down, a real bastard, who killed my brother in a land dispute. The man tried to claim some land that belonged to my brother, and killed him when the argument went south. More than that, the things he did to my brother's body were… I can hardly bear to think of it." His hands shake with rage as he glares into his drink. "I tried to track the son of a bitch down after he fled the scene, but by the time I caught up with him it was too late. He somehow managed to weasel his way into the goddamned Shepherds, and suddenly nobody will hear a word of what I have to say! As far as the fucking Halidom is concerned it might as well be illegal to speak ill of Prince Chrom's pet soldiers!" He spits on the ground at that last part, eyes blazing.

"You're certain it's the same man?" I ask.

"Oh, it's him alright. I had my doubts for a while, I'll admit to that. But that was before I heard the stories. Apparently the man destroyed some bandit camp up here a couple of months ago. Hacked everyone to bits with an axe, just the same as he did my brother. Rushed up here as fast as I could to try and catch up to the bastard, only to find out he and the rest of the Shepherds returned to Ylisse a week ago!"

"Wait…" I feel my clouded mind grow clear as realization dawns, "Are you saying the man who killed your brother was Ben the Butcher!?"

"I surely am!" The man nods bitterly, "And never was there a more fitting title for the craven."

"But… but that's the same man who killed my men!" I gasp in shock.

The man's eyes grow wide, mirroring my own, before he takes on a determined expression. "I don't believe I caught your name, Lady Knight."

"Raimi, knight of Eastern Ferox." I reply.

"Dame Raimi, my name is Conrad, and I am but a simple scribe of Ylisse." The man says, voice growing stronger, "And I cannot help but believe that Naga herself has ordained our meeting this night. That two of us, rendered powerless by similar political barriers, should be brought together in our cause to stop the monster who wronged us… Well, what else could it be but fate?"

"I never much believed in fate." I reply, caution warring against that primal part of me that revels in Conrad's words.

"I understand your hesitance. We only just met tonight, after all. But I implore you, let me help you in this! I may be the only one who understands your plight! I would consider it a privilege to help justice be done against that monster."

"I mustn't." I shake my head reluctantly, "It means much to me that you are willing to help me in this endeavor, but I can't pursue this further. To do so would mean disobeying my Khan. I cannot betray her."

"What if I said there was a way to have your revenge without breaking your oath to the Khan?" Conrad leans in closer, eyes intensely serious. And the idea is… appealing. Far too appealing. I can feel my resolve falter at the mere thought of it. Conrad seems to sense this, leaning in even closer, his dark eyes seeming to draw me in until I might drown in them. "Come now, Dame Raimi. Let us get you your revenge. Work with me. If not for your own sake, than for the sake of your men."

"My men…" I mutter, the loss striking me once more as though it was the day I saw them fall.

"That's right. Don't do it for me. Don't do it for yourself. Do it for Garth. And for Dean. Your poor men, made victims of a monster in human skin. Help me, and I can peel that skin away from him, until not a soul alive will be able to deny the beast that hides beneath."

"Yes… I'll do it." I say softly, the words springing unbidden to my lips. "For Garth and Dean, I will work with you."

"Good." Conrad practically purrs in satisfaction. "You won't regret this Raimi. With your help the Shepherds will shield him from us no longer. We will split that defense in two and pluck the Butcher from within. Doesn't that sound nice?"

"It… does…" I nod, a satisfied smile creeping across my face. "Yes, I like the sound of that very much."

"I thought you would." Conrad nods, leaning back once more. "Now, let us get to work. We have much to do."

He turns away from the bar, heading for the door without another glance in my direction. I toss a few coins to the bartender and hasten to follow. As I do the feeling of satisfaction inside me only grows. An ally. I finally have an ally in this. One who has the determination to follow this through to the end with me. One who can help me achieve vengeance once and for all.

Though… a small part of me can't help but wonder… when was it exactly that I told Conrad Garth and Dean's names?


The next few months prove to be… less than satisfying. This is due both to the pace at which my vengeance moves and the things I am forced to endure because of it. Conrad's plan is slow paced, and distinctly different from the way I would like to do things. For months I am forced to simply do my duties as normal, with my only task being to spread yet more rumors. Conrad does much the same, remaining in Ferox by taking up a new job in Gelida Dominus, but making use of the connections he's made over his years as a scribe to spread the word much farther than I could ever hope to match. With his judicious use of messenger birds and couriers I have little doubt he has rumors of Ben the Butcher spreading before the Shepherds themselves have arrived home.

And this seems to be the extent of his plan. Rumors. A plan befitting a scribe, I suppose, to destroy one's enemy through words alone. But not one that satisfies me. Especially with everything else happening. War is declared, looming greater with the passing of the seasons, and already Ylisse proves a poor ally. According to reports the war was begun when Ylisse's Exalt rushed headfirst into an obvious trap and lost a significant portion of their Pegasus Knights, one of the few military assets the country has managed to keep since their last war.

Khan Flavia swears up a storm at that last bit of news, pacing angrily around the keep. So soon into our alliance and already she has regrets. I can't help but empathise. The prince of Ylisse and his group were an impressive bunch, even the Butcher in his own twisted way. So impressive that we seem to have forgotten the nature of his elder sister. By all accounts the Exalt is a force to be reckoned with in peace times, but worse than useless at war. And the problem is made worse by the simple fact that we weren't ready for this to happen so soon. Feroxi citizens suited for spy work are a rare thing, and so our intelligence network can't begin to compare to that of Plegia. No doubt they found it all too easy to hide their preparations for this war.

And so by the time Ferox has rallied its armies Ylisse is already falling to pieces, having lost not only the rest of their Pegasus Knights, but also their Capital, and even their damned Exalt. The only reason Ylisse isn't torn apart completely is the whims of the Mad King, the bastard preferring to focus his attention on his grand execution plans over stomping out what few smouldering embers of Ylissean resistance remain.

The one good thing to come of this is the control of Ylisse's military force falling under the Prince's command. Or, more specifically, the control of the Prince's tactician. For a man with the look of a Plegian Robin certainly has no problem whooping the asses of the Plegian army, and while Ylisse's military force has been severely reduced, those soldiers that remain are more than capable.

Unfortunately for me, working with those elite soldiers also means working with The Shepherds. And working with The Shepherds means working with The Butcher. Who is as close with the Shepherds as ever, much to my frustration.

"I thought the point of all of this damn rumor mongering was to weaken his position amongst the Shepherds!" I snarl furiously, pacing across the floor of Conrad's office. "From what I've been hearing they're treating him like a damned saint!"

"Not a Saint, no," Conrad replies, frowning at the letter he's writing, "More like a father figure of sorts. From what I've heard he's adopted one of the younger Shepherds, and looks after a great many others." He looks up to me, clearly frustrated, "This is going to complicate things quite a bit, Raimi. The Shepherds are a group defined as much by their bonds as they are by skill. They see themselves as a family. And Ben has placed himself at their core as the biggest family man of all. No matter how dark the rest of the world sees him, he cannot be touched as long as his reputation within the Shepherds remains."

"So what, are you saying we can't touch him!?" I glare at Conrad, frustration boiling over, "I should never have trusted this damn plan! All this sneaking about, with nothing to show for it. I should have just planted my damn spear in his back and been done with it months ago!" I turn for the door, intending to do just that.

Conrad appears in front of me before I can take two steps, planting his hands on my shoulders and stopping me with a surprising amount of strength. "No, Raimi! You mustn't do that! If you kill him you'll lose everything!"

"It would be worth it to see the light fade from that bastard's eyes!" I shout in protest.

"No, it would not!" He declares, looking panicked. "Raimi, please, I'm your friend in all this, so listen to me! Think about it! If you kill him now it will accomplish so little. You'll be seen as a murderer. You'll lose your place in Ferox. You'll weaken the ties between Ferox and Ylisse, ties which your Khan will need if you are to win the war against Plegia. And The Butcher's death will be seen as a tragedy!"

"A tragedy!?" I snap in disbelief. "He's a monster!"

"I know that! And you know that! But how many others really know that? There are rumors, certainly, but those rumors can only hold up so well in the face of his position! If you simply betray your Khan and kill him then the people will look at his death and weep for the senseless death of a good brave soldier of Ylisse! Is that what you want? To create a martyr?"

The very thought is infuriating to me, and it clearly shows, because Conrad pushes on at the look on my face. "I thought not. Raimi I know that what we've done is against your nature. I know that this isn't how you wanted to do things. But if we are to expose The Butcher for what he truly is then this subterfuge is necessary. These rumors are what we need to erode the wall that man has built between himself and the justice he must face for his evil deeds. They are the embers that will lead to a wildfire. The time will come when we can burn him out of these defenses but right now we must remain patient! Remain patient and continue preparing for the time when the spark we need comes to trigger that blaze."

I've stopped pushing against Conrad by now. His words make sense. If I simply kill him now, it wouldn't be justice. The world has to see him for the villain he is, or else I will never be satisfied. And Conrad… his methods are distasteful to me, but he will get me the revenge I need. He is my one ally in this.

"You're right." I say finally, looking him in the eyes. "I'll remain patient."

"Thank you." He sighs, looking immensely relieved. "Our time will come Raimi, you'll see."

"But how?" I can't help but wonder. "You said we were waiting for a spark, but how will we cause such a thing?"

"We won't." Conrad replies without hesitation. "The Butcher will do it himself. The time will come when he reveals his true nature once more. War is a desperate time, after all. And there is nothing better than desperation at making people act… rashly." His smile grows cold as he thinks on it, "Yes, I'm quite confident that The Butcher will make a mistake soon. And then we'll have our revenge for Garth and Dean."

"And your brother." I say earnestly.

Conrad blinks at that, and for the briefest of moments I can't help but think he looks almost… confused? Then he smiles warmly at me, dark eyes seeming to draw me in once more. "Yes. And my brother as well. We will avenge them all in time."


The Exalt dies, despite our best efforts. Feroxi fell by the hundreds in that final desperate push to reach her, and hundreds more still fell in the desperate retreat that followed. A complete failure. Even the Butcher's death proved little consolation, as I knew full well that a death such as this would see him as a fallen hero of sorts, dying for the sake of a woman whose character was beyond any reproach.

In that regard I am almost happy in a way when it is revealed that he escaped after all. The arrogant bastard appears in front of us after our desperate retreat, and I can only feel satisfied. I know now that for all he has accomplished his glories will only be temporary.

Though the rate at which those glories seem to accumulate is nothing short of maddening. Especially in the wake of the final battle of the war. Despite one of the younger Shepherd brats being responsible for striking the final blow against King Gangrel there seems to be a rumor going around that The Butcher is responsible.

I want to rage at the injustice of it all, but before I can even consider doing anything rash Conrad is there, having made the journey to Auream Dominus to see me.

"It would seem the rumors are working against us to some extent." Conrad sighs at the news, shaking his head in discouragement, "These days even those who do believe in our story see The Butcher as mostly beyond reproach. A terrible killer, but one who remains entirely on the new Exalt's leash. You're certain nothing went amiss during your time in Plegia? Not even the slightest thing we could turn against him?"

"Nothing," I reply in frustration, "He did plenty of notable things, but nothing we could possibly compare to what he's done in the past. The man discovered a magical cure for heatstroke, saved one of the Khan's best medics from a Deadlord, nearly died trying to save the Exalt from being executed, and not a one of the Feroxi who fought under him while he was acting as a general have anything bad to say about his orders. The only event I know of that falls outside of the image of a model soldier was the fucking sled incident, and while that was easily the most chaotic incident in the war it was also one of the most decisive victories against Grimleal mages in recorded history!"

"Damn it." Conrad sighs. "I thought the execution would provide us with our moment. If ever there would have been a time for him to do something drastic… It always did in the past…"

I stare in confusion at that, "Are you suggesting somehow that the man has a history with executions?"

Conrad grimaces, "Ah! Forgive me, I misspoke. I was not referring to The Butcher specifically, more… his type. Grand events of this like are historically an irresistible lure for schemers. And there can be no doubt that The Butcher is a schemer."

"If I may be honest, I'm beginning to doubt that." I sigh and shake my head. "Even having seen him laugh in the face of his crimes, even having walked the halls he is said to have painted with blood, I've seen little in the past months to paint him as anything other than a model soldier and loving father."

"But you have walked those halls. You have seen the things he's done. You lost two men to him Raimi, never forget that. He left Dean's children fatherless. He tore out Garth's throat even after you called an end to the fighting! Do those deaths mean nothing to you?"

"Of course not!" I snap, "But how long can we continue this? How long can we sit here nursing these grudges of ours while he continues to make us look like fools? All these months we've been waiting for him to show himself to be the villain once more and we have nothing to show for it! My own reputation has been damaged by this more than the damned Butcher's, my Khan sees me as little more than a nattering maiden for all my gossiping!"

"Ah, I see." Conrad's lip curls in disgust. "So you are telling me that your reputation matters to you more than the lives of your men. More than the cause we've sworn to undertake. More than our friendship, or the trust we've built."

I reel back in shock. "Never! Conrad, I value you greatly. You have been a true ally to me when nobody else was."

"Then why would you think of abandoning our cause?" Conrad shakes his head disdainfully, "Is the word of a Feroxi warrior worth so little?"

My surprise at his sudden aggression swiftly gives way to white hot fury at that, and I grab Conrad by his collar, hauling him off his feet. "Be very careful when choosing your next words Conrad. You are my friend, yes, but I will only tolerate so much."

"Once again your pride speaks for you!" He yells, struggling to get free. "What a friend you are, Raimi! Here I stand, having thrown aside my home, and my work, and everything I held dear for the sake of our cause, and yet you falter at the merest hint of sacrifice!"

Suddenly he twists himself out of my grip with a surprising display of strength, storming away from me. As I stagger, caught off guard by the sudden resistance, he slams his hands on my desk, hard enough that the ink bottle threatens to topple. "After everything we've been through, after baring our souls to each other, you threaten to pull away when things get difficult. Why should I not be upset? You would leave me to strive for this cause alone, and I cannot do this without you!"

I can only watch, stunned, as he leans over his desk in the aftermath of his outburst. Even though I cannot see his face, the weight of his emotion is made clear in the shaking of his shoulders. And I feel a deep sense of shame come over me. "You're right. I'm sorry Conrad. I've been weak. You deserve better from one you would call a friend." He shows no sign of responding, and I feel compelled to speak further, to reassure him however I can, "It was wrong of me to falter like this. Wrong of me to even consider abandoning you. All too often I forget that you have lost someone to The Butcher as well. I forget that this cause is not just my own. You deserve better than one as selfish as I. And I will follow you in this cause until the end."

Conrad's shaking shoulders gradually stop, and he takes a moment to wipe furiously at his face with his oversized sleeves before turning to face me. "Thank you Raimi. And… I'm sorry as well. I know better than anyone that it is no easy thing we are doing. It is only natural that you would have second thoughts. But I ask that you stay strong for now. The plan relies on your watchful eye to succeed. Now then, now that I've seen you safe I must return to Gelida Dominus. My workload continues to be as heavy as ever, and with the war ended I'm quite sure I'll have even more to do. There will be no end to the letters to be sent in the wake of this thing. Keep watching for any sign of a weapon we can use against the Butcher. When you've returned to Gelida Dominus we can reconvene."


The sign I'm finally waiting for comes with a very rude awakening. The sound of screaming is unpleasant enough to be woken by, but to find out it's caused by a brawl between the Butcher's daughters makes the incident even more frustrating. Clearly the man is every bit as lacking as a parent as he is in all other things, if his children should attack each other to the point where they send for healers.

Though it is interesting to note that the man sends out everyone save for his children and that Pegasus Knight survivor. I had been of the impression that the woman wanted nothing to do with him these days (and what I wouldn't give to be there for the moment that sparked that argument). Apparently there's something still going on there. If they're talking again I might have missed my chance, but it may be worth it to keep a closer eye on the both of them.

That feeling is validated when the woman spends the rest of the day running around Auream Dominus arranging for a private room for a meeting with all of the top brass in the Shepherds. Something big is happening and there's no doubt in my mind that the Butcher is right in the middle of it.

The meeting relocates halfway through the day, with more than a few of the attendees looking absolutely livid as they walk through the halls. The Butcher also sees fit to call his damned wyvern to the balcony for protection, which sets the servants to squawking as it does when the oversized lizard does anything.

I can't help but wonder, if the topic of this conversation upsets the likes of Sir Frederick and the Ylissean Royal Family to such an extent, what might happen if the rest of the Butcher's friends were to find out?

It's an enticing thought. One which merits further investigation.

From there my patience finally begins to bear fruit. As if the Gods themselves are rewarding me for all I have endured. Though as I uncover the truth I can't help but wonder if they are not playing a trick instead. I uncover the story in small pieces over many days. An odd boast by the Shepherd's new swordsman which his friends are unusually swift to reprimand him for. A few scraps of muttered sentences from the tactician which I manage to glean before his Plegian bedmate chases me away. And a hushed conversation between The Butcher and the fallen knight in the dark of night, a conversation of secrets kept and blame to be placed.

All together it paints a strange picture. One which I find utterly unbelievable when taken as a whole. Because if what I have heard is true, there is a great deal more to The Butcher than I originally thought, not to mention that gaggle of young prodigies the Shepherds have been gathering recently.

And then the very next morning the Shepherds come and confirm my suspicions without so much as a moment's thought, calling a meeting with Flavia before we break camp.

"Are you seriously saying we have two more goddamn wars to fight in the coming years?" Flavia asks, staring towards the Exalt and his tactician.

"As far as we're aware, yes." Prince Chrom says, "Of course, it's entirely possible that the actions of the children have changed things to such an extent that things will play out differently, but I dare not take the risk with all that's at stake."

"Because if we don't prepare and the Grimleal do summon Grima then it will mean the death of every last one of us." Robin nods.

"Alright, so why don't we just go down there and stomp those damn Grimleal while the country is on the back foot? They're vulnerable now."

"I will not enact some goddamn crusade against Plegia for something they haven't done." Prince Chrom snarls vehemently, "I refuse to follow in my father's footsteps!"

"It's not the move we want to make from a tactical standpoint either," Robin supplies, "The primary reason for our win against Plegia was the good will Exalt Emmeryn gained with her sacrifice. If we were to strike against Plegia further that good will would go up in smoke, and we'd find ourselves faced with the full wrath of the Plegian army. Neither of our countries can afford that sort of battle right now. Our only hope is to take this time to rebuild."

And whose fault is that? From the conversation I heard last night, The Butcher had knowledge of this war, and knowledge of Emmeryn's execution. How many lives could that knowledge have saved?

I state my suspicions to Khan Flavia once the meeting is over and the two of us are alone. And to my surprise she becomes frustrated with me. "What did I tell you about this fucking grudge Raimi? In case it didn't get through your thick skull we have bigger problems right now than your men!"

"If my two men aren't enough to matter to you then what about the rest of our army!?" I snap, "My Khan, The Butcher knew about the execution! I heard him discussing it with that Pegasus knight last night!"

"The worth of your word is rather undermined by your continued insistence on using childish insults," Khan Flavia shakes her head in disgust, "Raimi I told you months ago that if you continued down this road I wouldn't defend you. I told you not to create monsters in your head. And yet you have continued to let your pride dictate your actions. Let me be frank with you, in the hope that that finally knocks some sense into your damned head: these slights against you are imaginary. Your grudge is a farce. Your credibility is questionable at best."

"The hell it is!" I yell back, "I may still hold a grudge my Khan, but I have never lied to you. He knows something about all of this! I am certain of it! I would never come to you with this if I wasn't!"

"Fine then." Khan Flavia says, "If you're so certain you won't mind sorting this out right here and now… Julia, get in here!" When the soldier pokes her head in Flavia practically snarls at her, "Go tell the Prince and his tactician that I have something else I need to talk to him about, with my most sincere apologies."

And at this moment I realize that I've made a serious blunder. The secret I worked so hard to gain is about to be ripped away from me because of my temper. This was to be the weapon Conrad and I would wield against The Butcher, and now I've all but ruined it myself!

For a moment I think of protesting, but the look in Khan Flavia's eyes makes it all too clear that this isn't an option. And so I remain silent, cursing my blunder until the Prince returns.

"Sorry for calling you back so soon, Chrom." Flavia grunts, "You see Raimi here had a concern with the story you just told me. One involving a certain Shepherd she's been having fun telling stories about…"

The conversation does not improve from there.


Damn him! Damn him and damn me for my fucking temper!

I storm through the camp as it prepares for yet another day's marching, heedless of whoever or whatever stands in my way.

Even when I have what I need to destroy that damn man, I find that he's ruined things once again. By the time I finally had what I needed to tear him apart he was already acting to undermine everything! They defended him! They knew what he had done and they defended him! And Khan Flavia just accepted it! All the lives we lost in that damn war that he could have saved and yet everyone is on his fucking side!

"What's it going to take for people to stop defending this bastard!?" I snarl angrily to myself, once I'm safely away from the camp and away from prying ears. "That was supposed to be the opportunity we needed!"

"Funny then, that I didn't hear about it."

I whirl around in surprise. Because the owner of that voice is supposed to be waiting in Gelida Dominus. And yet Conrad stands there, right behind me. "Conrad?" I blink in surprise, "What are you doing here?"

"What I'm always doing. I'm here to help." Conrad says, smiling at me. "And from the sound of it, you could really use a hand right now. So tell me what happened, and I'll see what can be done about it."

I tell him. And his expression becomes cold. "You've really made a mess of this, haven't you?"

The words are a hammer blow to my chest. "I have." I gasp out, feeling smaller than I've ever felt in my life before Conrad's gaze.

"Our only weapon, the chance we've been waiting for all these months, and you've all but thrown it away."

"I know." I reply miserably.

"You've made our position very difficult."

"I understand that." I say, feeling rather sick.

"Then you understand that from here our options have all but vanished. But… there is one course left to us."

"There is?" I blink in surprise.

Conrad smiles bitterly at my hopeful expression, "Oh yes. It's far from ideal, but I can at least make an attempt to salvage this mess you've made, if you wish."

A glimmer of hope reawakens in me. "Of course I do!"

"Are you sure?" Conrad asks, staring me in the eyes. "If we proceed from here I won't be able to keep your hands clean any longer. Is avenging your fallen comrades worth more to you than your honor?"

"I…" I can't help but hesitate. Can I really disappoint my Khan once more?

"Come on now Raimi, this is the time to decide." Conrad hisses, "What were they worth to you really? What are you willing to sacrifice for the sake of Garth, and Dean, and all the countless other lives he could have saved? What will you give up to stop this from ever happening again?"

Put like that, the answer is clear: "Everything."

"Good." Conrad purrs, placing a hand on my shoulder. "Then there is one thing I will need from you. Bring me Khan Flavia's Seal. The one she uses for all official messages. Do this for me, and I will take care of the rest. I will give you the chance you need to have your revenge."

The gravity of what he's asking is… no small thing. "Taking that is treason of the highest order."

"It is." Conrad says, without the slightest hint of worry. "As I said, you can't afford to keep your hands clean if we are to deal with The Butcher. Or was your claim just now yet more empty promises? Are you really about to fail me again so soon Raimi? Is the Khan worth more to you than your only real ally?"

I remember the scorn in Flavia's eyes as she spoke with the Prince. The way she so easily sided with the Butcher over me. And find that Conrad is quite right. He deserves my trust and loyalty far more than Flavia does now. "No. It's not."

"Then go. The sooner I have the seal, the better. And in the meantime, I will see if the tool you uncovered yet has teeth."


Retrieving Flavia's Seal proves easier than I would have expected, in the end. Her trust in me is at its lowest, but my fellow knights don't seem to know this yet. And with the Khan's office currently operating from on the road, it proves a trifling matter to find it separate from the Khan herself. I'm allowed access to the cart where it's kept without so much as a question, though it takes a while before I find a chance to approach it without Flavia noticing.

And in the meantime, the secrets I've uncovered begin to spread. Conrad seems to be making the most of his time spent waiting for the seal, using the opportunity to discretely spread the information. To an army on the march such a conversation piece proves an irresistible lure, and so by the end of the day the word has spread throughout both armies.

To the Plegians it is simply a strange rumor. But to the Ylisseans it is something much more troubling. They don't all seem to know about this alternate future that Prince Chrom and Robin told the Khan about, but Ben's status as an Outrealmer and stories of this world appear to be an open secret. One which apparently ran much deeper than any of them suspected. And when those first hearing the rumors dare to approach their Prince about the subject his penchant for trust and honesty seem to work against him. I watch from afar the shock on his face as one of his Shepherds comes to him asking about the stories being told, and his reaction is all too telling.

"It won't have the same effect as I'd have liked, but this will cause unease amongst the Shepherds all the same." Conrad says. He's set up camp amongst the Feroxi army, evidently deciding his tent will stand out far less amongst the hundreds of others there. It works surprisingly well, allowing the two of us to speak in private in the heart of the army. A part of my mind refers to the outside of the tent as 'enemy territory.' The rest of my mind is troubled by how well that descriptor seems to fit.

"And this unease will allow us to get him out of the Shepherds?" I ask, trying to compare our current situation to the original plan.

"The unease will fracture the Shepherds, but I don't think Ben will be thrown from the Shepherds now." Conrad shakes his head, scribbling away at a letter. "The man is shockingly good at garnering sympathy from his betters. Of the leaders of the Shepherds, only Frederick is likely to make any sort of push to cast him out, and that man's opinion is all but meaningless next to that of the Prince. No, mostly this is to slow them down. If the Shepherds are dealing with the fallout of this reveal, they will not be able to move at their normal pace. Meanwhile the Butcher has flown ahead with his daughters, and will reach Gelida Dominus well ahead of them. It should give you plenty of time to ride ahead and kill the bastard."

"I'm to kill him now? But I thought you said-"

"We don't have the luxury of tearing him down completely anymore." Conrad cuts me off, not looking up from his writing, "The fact is, Ben has proven too good at hiding his secrets. What's more, he's managed to get too far ahead of us with his efforts at damage control. All we can do at this point is deal as much damage as we can, and then kill him before he can fix things properly."

"You're not serious. We have to settle for this sort of half-assed-"

"Yes, you saw to that rather nicely." Conrad sneers, effectively destroying any protest I might give. Because in the end he's right, I did drive us to this level of desperation with my blunder. Seeing my acceptance of this, Conrad pushes on with the plan, ever focused even as I continue to falter, "Now then, read this." He lightly waves the letter he's been writing in my direction.

I can hardly believe my eyes as I look upon it. "Why, this is Khan Flavia's writing! If I didn't see you write it I'd swear it came from her own hand!"

"It's simple enough to copy somebody's handwriting, especially since her position gives me no shortage of samples to learn from." Conrad replies dismissively. "The real important thing isn't the handwriting nearly so much as the Seal. I could write this whole letter left handed and with the Khan's seal on it people would still think it legitimate. Which is good since I doubt I could arrest Ben the Butcher on my orders alone."

"We're having him arrested." I frown at that, looking at the relevant part of the letter. An odd tactic. He would only stay imprisoned until Flavia arrives in Gelida Dominus, after all.

"One last blow to his reputation." Conrad explains, taking the letter back from me and sealing it away. "The man is placed under arrest, and then dies trying to fight his way out. Whether his arrest is legitimate or not killing his guards will be a hard act to justify, don't you think?"

"Killing his…" I stare in horror as realization dawns on me, "You want me to kill innocent soldiers!?"

"As far as anyone will be concerned it will be the Butcher killing them." Conrad scoffs, "Think of it as… arranging the scene in our favor. Picture the horror of it all: two good Feroxi guards killed in the line of duty, caught off guard by the Butcher of Ylisse, a mad dog who found his latest chain a little too stifling. The Butcher himself dead from the attempt, found lying with bloody knife in hand. The monster finally put down for his lifetime of crimes, including his latest and most terrible: playing with thousands of lives in a war for the safety of his own country! Raimi, if you do this well enough not only will you be able to make up for your blunder, it'll be your chance to kill the man with your own two hands. It's the perfect chance to fix your errors. To finally avenge your friends."

"But if I do this…" I pause, seeing the flaw in his logic plainly. "I will be every bit as guilty as he is. We would be trading one killer of Feroxi soldiers for another."

"That would be true, but for one important fact: we have proven that The Butcher is guilty of much more than just killing your men." Conrad shakes his head, "This man has toyed with entire countries, watched them wage war and sent them into battle as a general! He had the knowledge to change the face of the entire war and he did nothing. Knowing this, we can't afford to let him live. Raimi, this man is guilty of far more than what we once thought. He is a monster who has thrown away lives by the hundreds for the sake of his twisted agenda."

"This is true." I say hesitatingly. Because there is no doubt that the scope of The Butcher's villainy reach far beyond what I ever could have imagined.

"So you see then, that we must not hesitate to get our hands bloody. That we must be willing to pay the price if it means stopping him before it's too late." Conrad nods, "Raimi, there will be no thanks for what we are doing here, but this is something that must be done all the same. Not just for us, but for all of Regna Ferox, and Ylisse as well. If our nations are to prosper beyond this war then we must be rid of The Butcher, before he drags us deeper into his schemes!"

I think his words over carefully. I think of my men, dead and buried. I think of the Shepherds, filled with good, brave people, so willing to trust that they fail to see the monster in their midst. I think of Flavia, who I still respect in spite of all that has happened between us. I think of Ferox, my home, and all the strong, brave men and women who have suffered from this war, and will soon be forced to suffer again.

And I realize that I can't bring myself to stand by while The Butcher roams free, able to toy with us as he pleases. "You are right Conrad. As always you have provided me the perspective I need."

"That is why I am here." Conrad smiles broadly, before seeming to remember something and digging through his bag. "Ah, and also for this! One moment… here we are!" He retrieves a small wooden box, and opens it to reveal a simple silver pendant set with a dark gemstone. "This is a priceless magical artifact, given to me by a great man who sympathizes with our cause. Once the deed is done place your thumb on the stone and think of me. It will carry you to safety."

"Thank you Conrad." I smile at him, hoping he can grasp even a fragment of the gratitude I feel towards him for all that he's done for me. "I swear I will succeed in this thing. We will avenge those we have lost, and stop this monster before he can do any more damage."


Khan Flavia sees no reason to stop me when I state my intention to ride ahead, calling it a good chance for me to 'clear my head.' It would seem that even now she has some trust in me, a thought which fills me with far less guilt than I would have expected. From there I ride like the devil is chasing me, aiming to reach Gelida Dominus as far ahead of the army as possible, to ensure I have all the time I will need to do what must be done. Conrad's part in the plan goes as flawlessly as I have come to expect from the man. His forged letter causes some raised eyebrows, but not one of the soldiers left in Gelida Dominus sees any reason to doubt the order.

The Butcher arrives only a few short hours after I do, and is arrested on the spot. For the briefest of moments it looks as though his eldest daughter is prepared to fight us, and I brace myself for the difficult task of subduing her, but The Butcher himself convinces her to keep her peace. He looks surprised, but resigned as the guards lead him away. From his words and actions it appears as though he is expecting the Khan to put him on trial.

He does not yet know that he has already been judged. That I am to be his executioner.

In accordance with the orders Conrad forged The Butcher is locked in a private room rather than the dungeons. This is, as Conrad explained it, because the dungeons are filled with no shortage of witnesses. If we are to successfully frame The Butcher then we must ensure that nobody is there to verify the truth.

The guards let me into The Butcher's room without question, knowing that I was the one to deliver the orders. One remains outside, watching the door, while the other accompanies me in, to ensure nothing shady happens. Exactly according to protocol.

The Butcher is resting when I enter, laying casually on his back and barely sparing me a glance. He shows no surprise at my appearance, only a grim sort of humor. "Figured you'd be along soon enough." He says with a smirk, "Knew you wouldn't be able to resist."

"Did you really?" I stare at him blankly.

"Uhh, yeah?" He sits up on the bed, staring at me in mock surprise, "You didn't think I didn't know about your little grudge, did you? I've seen you glaring at me for months now. You're pretty much the exact opposite of subtle. So obviously when I get put on house arrest you're going to come along to gloat."

The arrogance. Just as I remembered. All this time and the man hasn't changed at all. He still thinks he's above his actions. Above me. If he had shown me some semblance of remorse for his actions I might have thought twice about what I came here to do. But instead I feel vindicated. Eager.

"Oh, Butcher… I am here to do much more than gloat." I reply, smiling as I take a step towards him. I hear the guard shift uneasily beside me, but pay the man no mind.

As I had hoped, the motion causes The Butcher to grow uneasy. His smirk vanishes in an instant, and he rolls off of his bed, putting it between the two of us. "Whoa there. Whatever you're thinking of doing there, I think it's best you reconsider. I'm pretty sure your Khan won't appreciate it if you go killing me here. Last I checked I'm still an allied General!"

"You're right, she won't." I say calmly. "But she's not the one who had you arrested." Both The Butcher and his guard pause at that, confused at my statement. And seeing my opportunity I don't hesitate, drawing the knife I had concealed beneath my vambrace and driving it into the guard's chest. He staggers back, staring at me uncomprehendingly, before collapsing to the ground without a word.

It's surprising to me how little guilt I feel at the act. His death is regrettable, but I see now that it is necessary. A small sacrifice for the sake of killing a far greater monster.

"Oh, fuck." The Butcher says quietly, now fully realizing the situation he's in. "Oh fucking hell, you've lost it. You crazy bitch, you just killed that guy!"

"No, I believe everyone will find that you did." I reply calmly, retrieving the guard's spear. "Clearly you didn't react very well to being imprisoned here. It is truly a tragedy that you would react so… violently. But then, that sort of thing should have been expected from somebody like you. A monster who tears apart corpses for pleasure. Really, it's a wonder you didn't snap sooner. You are after all, a known murderer."

"Oh spare me the boasts you stupid bitch, did you really think I didn't know you were the one spreading those rumors about me? I figured it out within five seconds of hearing about them, you're not that fucking clever!" The Butcher snaps irritably, eyes darting between me and the door behind me. I move to block his vision, putting a stop to any thoughts he might be having of making a run for it. But in a sudden moment of realization I remember that I have yet to deal with the other guard.

I turn just in time to see the other guard attempting to strike me from behind, raising a club to bring down on my head. Not a bad tactic, but he was too slow. I manage to twist to the side, letting the blow glance off my shoulder. In response my borrowed lance pins the man to the wall through his shoulder, causing him to drop his weapon and scream in agony.

I had been aiming for his throat, but it would seem the man's attack was enough to disrupt my aim. This doesn't bode well. The room is fairly secluded, but there's still a good chance that the screaming guard will draw more attention I can't afford. I need to finish this quickly and make my escape.

But before I can drive my spear through the guard again and silence him properly a pair of arms wrap around my neck and drag me backwards. The Butcher is attempting to stop me. He knows this other guard is his best chance at escaping me.

"No!" I snarl, twisting free and slamming the haft of my spear into his head. "I will not be stopped Butcher, not this time! I will see you dead for all that you've done!"

The Butcher staggers back, falling onto his bed. "And just… what the fuck do you know about what I've done?" He snarls, spitting out blood.

"You let the entire war against Plegia happen despite knowing it was coming! You let all of Archanea tear itself apart and kept silent!" I shout my accusations, raising my spear.

"Okay, I'll admit you know a fair bit more about me than I thought you did." The Butcher replies, looking a bit stunned at my accusation. Not stunned enough though, as he keeps his wits about him enough to throw himself backwards before I can gore him, once more putting the bed between us. He reappears a moment later, still looking unnerved. "I kinda thought you were just going to start ranting about those assholes from your border guard again."

…The nerve of this bastard. "Their names…" I snarl, swinging out with my spear, "Are GARTH! AND! DEAN!"

The Butcher narrowly ducks my spear, cowering as the point carves a shallow line through the stones behind him and sends a shower of dust onto his head. "Yeah, well my name isn't Butcher, but that never stopped you!" He roars back, shoving his bed at me hoping to trip me.

"You are a butcher, nothing more!" I reach down and heave the entire bed out of the way before he can knock my feet out from under me. "And I will do whatever it takes to make sure the world knows what you did! You will pay for what you did to me!"

Everything I lost for the sake of dragging this monster into the light and exposing him, everything I've had to sacrifice, it was all for this moment! My chance to kill him is at hand! I raise my spear, ready to run this man through and finally end this.

But before I can strike the final blow somebody interferes. I feel something hit my arm, and whirl back around to see who has intervened with my revenge. I have barely enough time to register scarlet hair and eyes, on a girl whose face is twisted with hatred like nothing I've ever seen.

The Butcher's daughter is here. Her stance is solid, her intent clear! She's going for the throat, I need to defend myself! I raise my arms, bringing my spear up to block her killing blow-

But my spear isn't there. I was holding it in my right hand, and now… there is no hand to hold it. My right arm, it's been cleaved through, armor and all! My hand, where did it go, without it, without my spear-

A horrified scream bursts from my throat as I see the blade coming for me. I can't block, I have no weapon, I have no hand, where did my hand go!? I can't stop the blow, I can't defend, I have to evade! I throw myself backwards, but it's far too late to escape the blow completely.

There's an instant of burning pain, and a force that snaps my head to the side and twists my whole body. I stagger to the side, falling into the upturned furniture and falling to the ground. My head is swimming from the blow, but somehow I manage the presence of mind to stop myself from attempting to catch my fall with my missing arm. When my knees hit the ground though I feel something snap in my left, and my mind goes white with pain once more.

For a moment I lay there, trying to bring myself to move but unable to make my body respond. The sight of blood pouring down onto the ground before my eyes shocks me into movement once more. I haul myself up onto my remaining good knee, plant my remaining gauntlet in my armpit, and tear my hand free with enough force to dislocate two of my fingers. It's a small price to pay though. I need to see what she did to me. Did she cut my throat or did I manage to escape disaster?

My throat is wet with blood, which terrifies me for a moment until I realize that I can't find an actual wound there. So my throat hasn't been slit. But the blood means I've been struck further up. Some sort of wound to my face. My probing fingers move further up, looking for the wound.

They do not have to travel far. The left side of my face is ruined. I can feel a wound there, with splintered bone. And my jaw… half of it has been severed. The blade didn't kill me, but I can no longer speak. Can no longer fight. I probably have seconds left before the shock wears off and when that happens I won't be able to so much as think through the pain.

I look up to the rest of the room. See the Butcher's daughter raising her sword once more as she moves towards me. See the Butcher himself staring impassively at me, no sign of my attack save for a single strike to his head. All my efforts and I barely managed to draw the bastard's blood.

And on the opposite side of the room is no less than half a dozen Feroxi guards. The one I stabbed in the shoulder is back on his feet, and saying… something. I can't seem to hear his words over the roaring in my head. But the way my once friends look at me makes it clear enough, the fury in their eyes as they look on me and the guard I killed.

I failed. My efforts were for nothing. My sacrifice was meaningless. I lost everything. And I have nothing to show for it.

There's only one hope left.

I place my hand on my amulet, pressing my thumb into the gemstone.

I'm sorry Conrad.

I failed you.


From the moment Raimi appears in front of me in a flash of light it becomes immediately clear that things did not go according to plan. I barely have time to look at her before she's collapsed face first into the sand, but what little I see is enough to tell me that her front is absolutely coated in blood. And the way she immediately curls into a ball and starts screaming is also a bit telling.

Did Ben do this? Possible, but not likely. Raimi's not much of a thinker but even she couldn't fuck up delivering a letter. No, she probably botched the kill and somebody else dealt with her.

"Tell me you at least killed him." I groan. "Being caught in the act means a pretty big fuckup, yes, but please tell me you at least managed to kill him first. Show me you're worthy of at least some semblance of respect here." Raimi responds by shaking her head wordlessly and sobbing a little harder.

A complete fuck-up then. Brilliant.

"You know, I thought you Feroxi were supposed to be good at killing things." I say drily, walking over to my would-be assassin. "Then again, I supposed I've forced you quite a ways away from your usual department in that regard. You probably don't know how to kill somebody if they aren't sweating testosterone and screaming in your face."

Raimi curls up tighter as I lean in, trying to protect her injuries, and it takes me a rather irritating bit of work to finally uncurl her enough to see what's happened to her arm. "Hmm." I stare blankly at the stump for a moment. "Clean cut. Too clean. No way you saw this coming. What, you let somebody just sneak up on you and cut your damn arm off for free?"

Pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. What is the point of going to so much trouble convincing a Feroxi Knight to do your dirty work for you if they're going to get disarmed so easily? And from the way she's clinging to her face it looks like she got herself hit there too. Right in the head, also known as the number one place you shouldn't get hit in a fight. Are those Khans knighting people out of pity or something?

I attempt to look at the other wound, but she struggles against me. Eventually I have to hold her stump down with my boot and forcefully pull her arm away to see what's happened to her face. "Christ!" I spit in shock as I finally see her ruined mess of a jaw. "Lucky for you you were never much of a looker to begin with!"

"C-Conrad. Please." Raimi babbles, still trying to pull out of my grip.

"If you're looking for help from me with all of this you're asking the wrong guy." I say, letting her arm fall. "I don't know the first thing about healing. Still, I suppose I'd better make sure you don't bleed out."

The idiot fights me every step of the way as I pull what remains of her armor from her stump, and thrashes like a damn lunatic when I cauterize the thing with a torch. Her face is ruined way beyond anything I can hope to help with, so I settle for tying some wadded up rags to her jaw. By the end of it all she's passed out, which makes doing my job a lot easier and quieter. She still looks like a disaster and is drooling blood all over the place, but at least she won't bleed out.

"There." I sigh, looking over my handiwork. "Whole lot of trouble I'm going through for somebody who botched things so badly. Still, wouldn't do to come back alone after fucking the job up. At least this way he'll have someone else to vent his frustrations on. Maybe he'll even make something useful out of you when he's done. Though…" I look at her missing arm and grimace. "You're not quite as intact as he'd prefer. Probably means he'll make one of those out of you."

The less time spent reflecting on the boss's more disturbing creations the better. Time to hit the road so I have something else to think on. With a good deal of effort I manage to drag Raimi's limp body into the back of my sled. I tug a few levers to nudge the axle dragons into position, then haul on the lever to push them into motion. "And we're off." I mutter, staring out over the great stretch of empty dunes before me. "About time, too."

I'm not looking forward to the reception I'll receive when I get back. Ben's still alive and the Shepherds are getting along far better than I'd like despite my best efforts. But at least I'll finally get to see Dolgrim again after all this time.

Despite circumstances I can't help but look forward to returning home.


Raimi has three clearly defined traits in her one appearance in the game: she's honorable, proud to a fault, and is a terrible judge of character. Not hard to see how somebody might take advantage of that. A friendly face with bad intentions can do a whole lot of damage, and despite Raimi failing in her little crusade she has definitely made a mess of things with Conrad pulling her strings. More on him later.

Next time: damage assessment.

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