Priscilla Arentii twirled her dagger between her fingers without looking, idly passing the time and trying not to think about the Viking clans that were gathered just outside of the small cave she resided in. She could hear the dull sound of their primitive music and pagan songs going on without end, except for a short moment where everything had gone strangely quiet, but whatever had happened seemed to have passed without incident and the noise began once again. A part of her half expected to see a thousand savage warriors to come screaming for her blood at any moment, but so far her time sitting in a dark corner of the cave had gone undisturbed. Dwelling on such a grim outcome seemed counter productive anyway, considering that she had come to this horrid island voluntarily.
Flipping the dagger up into the air, she watched it spin around once, twice, three times and then snatched it effortlessly by the grip as it fell.
"Quite impressive," said a woman next to her.
Priscilla flipped the dagger around and thrust the sharp point at the Warden who had approached, taking only the slightest bit of satisfaction at watching the woman flinch away from the blade.
"Thank you. Practice makes perfect," she said, smiling behind the the dark iron of her hooded helmet. With a flick of her wrist, she twirled her Peacekeeper's dagger around and slipped it back into the sheath on her belt. "What can I do for you, Commander Judith?"
Judith remained tense for another moment, perhaps regretting her decision to approach in the first place. Finally she relaxed, her armor clinking softly as she took a seat next to Priscilla against the cavern wall, laying her longsword across her lap. "Ah, nothing really. Just trying to stave off boredom, I suppose. Being stuck in a cave for three days was hardly what I had in mind by coming here."
Priscilla gave a small shrug of her shoulders. "Beats spending three days in an actual prison. Getting to go outside would not go unappreciated, but considering the company..." She looked over at the cave's entrance, directing Judith's attention towards the two Raiders standing guard. Priscilla figured that their presence was mostly just a formality, considering that two Vikings were hardly a match for thirty stir crazy Knights all trapped together inside this dry and dimly lit cave. A Viking horde though, that was a pretty good deterrent to keep anyone from doing something stupid during their stay.
Judith chuckled, tilting her helmet back against the cave wall with a small thunk of metal against rock. "You have a point. I guess we should consider ourselves lucky that Erik actually sent us wine and food. After everything we have been through I almost feel like an honored guest."
For a moment Priscilla quietly observed the Warden from behind the protection of her helmet. She wasn't exactly sure how old Judith was, but she knew of a dozen or so battles that the Warden had fought in against both Vikings and Samurai as a legion commander. She was a seasoned warrior, and her skills as a leader are what had kept them all alive when the woeful path they had been forced upon had seemed hopeless. Her armor and sword were well made, indicating wealth, but scarred from constant use as of late, and the eagle ornament perched on top of her helmet had at some point lost a wing to the swing of a blade. The journey that they had all been on these last few months had left little time for rest and repair, and it showed in their shabby condition. Much like Priscilla's own armor, Judith's was colored in the red and white of the Lion Flame Legion, proud protectors of Ashfeld's northern coast from the Viking scourge.
At least they had been, until everything they had known turned to shit.
"Are you having second thoughts?" Priscilla asked smoothly, knowing that a casual conversation was sometimes enough to draw forth little secrets and bits of information. In life there was a time and place for using force, and for using subtly to get someone to open up. As a Peacekeeper she was trained in both techniques.
Judith gave a sideways look through the thin visor of her helmet, then sighed deeply. "Second thoughts? No. Regrets...? There is much in this life that I regret now. So many things I wish I could have done differently. Strangely though, coming here is probably the thing that I regret the least. For now, anyway. Funny how life has a way of turning out in the ways you least expect it."
Priscilla nodded, but said nothing. If Judith was full of regret then that was her burden to bear. As far as she was concerned their duty as Knights had not changed, despite whatever may have happened back in Ashfeld. Her blades may remain silent and clean for now, but they would prove useful again soon enough.
Glancing around the cave she looked at the other Knights standing together in small groups or just sitting around. Wardens mostly, a few Lawbringers, and a number of weary looking foot soldiers, all of them once proud fighters in Ashfeld's defense now brought low by sorry circumstance. Hell, there was even a wayward Gladiator that had somehow gotten mixed up with their sorry little band. A few were helping themselves to the food and drink brought to them from the feast outside, but most just skulked around like old dogs too worn out to be bothered by anything around them. None of them looked very proud or impressive in the gloom of the cave.
There was a sense of quiet desperation that hung over them, a collective holding of breath as they all just waited to see what would happen next. No doubt many of them were carrying around the same kind of regret as Judith, though Priscilla couldn't say that she really felt sorry for any of them.
The teachings of the old Blackstone Warlord popped into her head, that it was only the strong who could shape the fortunes of the world, and she wondered how many of these Knights might fidget and squirm if she dared to utter the word 'sheep' in their presence.
Only one other among them seemed to remain standing tall and unperturbed by their current situation, a soldier unique in his position when compared to the rest.
A lone Conqueror, simply known as Coal, brought into their ranks not long before everything had gone wrong. Throughout all of their little band's troubles, Coal had always seemed to get through it without issue. Perhaps after being conscripted as a lowly prisoner and then put on the front lines of Ashfeld's worst battles he now had no more reason to be upset about being dragged from one hostile environment to another. It was just the life he was used to.
Priscilla looked over in the Conqueror's direction, just as he turned to look back at her. For a moment they held each other's gaze, until it became clear that Coal wasn't going to look away and things began to feel awkward.
Thankfully at that moment the two Raiders stood up straight, bringing everyone's attention to the cave's entrance. It seemed that they had visitors.
"I tell you Herleif, you will think me mad for this, really you will. But trust me when I say the whole thing is planned out."
The booming voice echoed against the cavern walls, growing louder and closer along with the sound of many footsteps. It was the voice of someone who had the utmost confidence in their own bravado, so naturally it was Erik Golden-Shield doing the talking. Who this Herleif person was Priscilla didn't know yet, but seeing as she wasn't going anywhere else outside of the cave she wouldn't have to wait long to find out. Erik spoke in the northern tongue, but through her teachings and station in Ashfeld's northern coasts she knew enough to understand what they were saying.
As the two Raiders standing guard stepped to the side, Erik walked in leading a host of armored Vikings with him.
At once Priscilla recognized Erik's son Magnus and his Highlander bodyguard who walked with him, but the accompanying Warlord and broad chested Raider were strangers. There was even a Valkyrie who walked behind the lot, small shield and spear in hand. She had never seen a Valkyrie up close before, and had to admit that she was more then a little intrigued at the prospect of meeting one of the fabled warrior women said to deal in the souls of the dead.
The little group made their way further into the cave, and by the look on the new Warlords face he had most certainly not been expecting to find a group of armed Knights simply sitting here waiting patiently as if they were the next round of entertainment to be presented to the feast. The open mouth shock that he showed was amusing to say the least, if not a bit disconcerting for the tense moment where all present waited to see how he might react next.
"You are right, Erik... I think you are mad. What is the meaning of this?" the Warlord asked quietly, fists clenching as he scowled under the face plate of his horned helmet.
He was dressed in fine lamellar armor of small decorated metal plates, colored in blue and silver with engraved knots upon the right pauldron. His helmet was of fine make, with curved horns along its dome and the face of what could only be called a demon fashioned upon the brow. It was not the bright or gaudy display as Erik wore, but fine enough to mark him out as a Jarl, or at least a wealthy chief. Priscilla thought Jarl though, as Erik most likely wouldn't trust a mere chieftain with the knowledge of their presence just yet. Their arrival among the Vikings was a closely guarded secret, or at least Erik assured them that it was.
The so-called Golden Jarl smirked at his companion. "This, Herleif, is the plan," he said with a knowing smile, clearly keeping his meaning hidden on purpose just to get a rise out of the other Warlord. It seemed that the only thing Erik liked to polish more then his gold was his own ego.
"Odin's beard Erik, speak plain and explain yourself. Are they hostages? Prisoners?" Herleif asked, glaring across the crowd of soldiers he knew only as his enemy, "Why are they not all in chains?"
It was an apt question. Priscilla honestly wouldn't mind it all that much, even if it was just for show. By this point she could do with a bit of excitement to break up all the monotony and dour mood all around her.
The Raider with them scowled from beneath his own horned helmet, taking the time to look at each Knight before him with a grim frown. "Better question is why are they still alive? Are they being saved for sacrifice before the voyage? There are plenty here. Surely the gods will grant you all of their strength and power for this much blood."
Erik looked at the Raider and held up a warning finger. "No, no. These are my honored guests, Gunnar. There will be no sacrifices made from this lot, I have given my word," he said with a reassuring smile to all around, then laughed and added in the common tongue for all to understand. "My golden word!"
From the clinking of armor and the way a few of the Knights gripped their weapons it didn't seem that everyone was totally convinced. The arrival of a few more Vikings didn't really shift the odds against the Knights in a fight, but the remaining horde that awaited them outside was still more then enough to give them pause.
Looking over at Judith, Erik waved his hand and bid her to approach. The commander did not move from where she sat, arms resting on her knees to consider if being called like a dog in front of the others was worth the risk of giving offense to a Viking Jarl that commanded hundreds, if not thousands of warriors here on this island. It seemed to Priscilla that she waited an awfully long time to make her decision, but in the end Judith finally rose up from her seat and made her way over to their new pagan master.
"This is Lady Judith DeLaroux," Erik said, pronouncing Judith's surname with surprising ease. He continued to speak in the common tongue, which was understood between all the nations of Heathmoor, though his native accent was still think in his voice. "She is, or rather was, the commanding Warden of the Lion Flame Legion. Sadly though, the legion is no more, or at least it is no longer what it once was. All that is left of their loyal forces stands here before you now. Thirty sad and broken Knights pushed to the brink of all that is decent and fair in this world just to survive. Is that not true, Lady Judith?"
Judith's hand tightened on the grip of her longsword as she held it by her side. Even with her helmet on one could still imagine her jaw tensing tightly. "Yes."
The bite in her voice was barely hidden, like a dog growling a small warning before an attack, but the Warlord Herleif seemed to take no notice.
"The Lion Flame Legion, is it?" he asked her in an equally unfriendly tone. "I know that name. Know it because I have fought against it, as have many other of my kin. Hard warriors, and deep rooted in Ashfeld's northern lands too, as I understand it."
"Ashfeld rats," came Gunnar's growling voice. "We've fought against the likes of you before, as our father did before us. You are nothing but troll sucking wenches just waiting to be drowned in the ocean as we sail off with your gold and your women. I spit on your legions. You armies are all weak, just like your weak God." He leaned forward and spit at Judith's feet, staring her down with his arms crossed over his bare chest as if daring her to make a move back.
Priscilla grinned beneath her helmet as she watched. Insulting Judith, the legion and God right from the start? The big man was a feisty one. Slowly moving her hands to her belt, she let them hover over her sword and dagger, waiting to see if things were about to turn nasty. Thankfully it seemed that Herleif had better sense then the Raider, stepping in and putting himself between Gunnar and Judith as she took an aggressive step forward.
"Erik said that your legion is no more. What does he mean by that? If you are not here as prisoners, then what are you here as?" Narrowing his eyes, Herleif took a step closer to Judith, his voice dropping low as if his next words tasted sour upon his tongue. "Are you traitors? Deserters? What oaths have you broken by coming here?"
Many of the Knights about the cave seemed to tense up at Herleif's words, including Judith.
"We are not traitors," she hissed back. Erik let out a snort of laughter that surely stung, but Judith pushed on regardless. "What do our oaths matter not when there is no longer any meaning to them? The Ashfeld we have all fought and bled defending has abandoned us, forsaken us into the hands of mad cultists and butchers. Our homes are burned. Our families subjugated by wicked and unjust priests, forced to worship a false idol under pain of torture and death. Where once stood honor and duty now exists only greed and madness. Though I fear that we few here are all mad as well. Mad enough to come and seek the likes of you for help."
An elegant and heartfelt declaration, Priscilla thought, sure to touch the hearts of anyone with a mind for honor and a sense of duty towards others. Someone such as Herleif it seemed, given the way his grim frown clearly softened as Judith went on. It was touching really, to know that even primitive and stubborn barbarians could be moved by such theatrical words. Touching, and informative.
Herleif glanced over towards Erik, but the Golden Jarl simply took a seat on a nearby table and frowned back at him, gesturing at Judith as if to say that she as the one with all the answers to his questions. "Alright then, tell me this mad tale," he said.
Judith hung her head a moment to compose herself, then began her sad tale knowing that at least what she had to say would be heard. "For months now, northern Ashfeld has been plagued by a group of religious zealots that worship the volcano Mount Ignis as a new god. They see the volcano as a holy deity, and call for all of Ashfeld to unite in worship of it's power. At first they were just a nuisance, a group of crazy cultists that had split from the Church, believing the volcano to be some sort of earthly manifestation of God's power. A wrathful power, capable of smiting their enemies and laying waste to their lands of Valkenheim and the Myer. Given the mounting battles against your kind and the Samurai, there were many eager to believe in such tales, and soon the cult began to grow in number. The Legion Council at Beaufort were willing to turn a blind eye to their existence in the beginning. What was a small band of devout Knights to them so long as they still did their duty and fought as commanded? It was not long before that decision proved to be a horrible mistake."
"Soon their priests began showing up all over Ashfeld. They were in every village, every city, every stronghold, spreading forth from their holy mountain like locusts. No one had thought that their ranks would swell so quickly. It was like the embers of a camp fire giving way to an inferno devouring whole forests. Their message was clear, that the volcano would bring about swift and merciless destruction upon our enemies, and that the mountain would unleash black smoke and fire over the lands of Vikings and Samurai alike to deliver the good people of Ashfeld into a world of peace and tranquility. A world for good, God fearing folk, void of any threat of pain and suffering at the hands of heathens and infidels so long as they were willing to pledge their service to the rule of the priests."
Gunnar let out a gruff laugh, still itching for a chance to strike a spark that would see the whole cave erupt into bloody violence. "Typical Ashfeld cowards. Always eager to let their so-called peaceful God do all the killing for them. No wonder they flock to the mountain, they're all to afraid to pick up a blade and get bloody on their own."
"We bloodied ourselves plenty before relenting to the heretic preaching of mad men," Judith snapped back. "It did not take long for the cult to grow in strength, and before anyone could see what was happening they had formed a new legion all on their own, with no approval from the Council or even the Lord-Warden himself. At the foot of Mount Ignis they took the Walled City as their stronghold and proclaimed themselves the Legion of the Divine Pyre. All who march under their banner exist only to see their rhetoric spread throughout the land, and to brand all who resist them as heretics before putting them to the sword. They have turned their madness into a holy war, one to be waged in blind fidelity to a false god."
Herleif shook his head as he tried to make sense of everything he was hearing. "So a few Knights found a new god. What concern is that to us? And it still does not explain what you are doing here. If they are such a problem for you, why not have your other legions march on the mountain and snuff them out for good?"
Judith shook her head sadly like a teacher disappointed in a pupil missing the point of the lesson. "Would you march on your own kin so easily, Viking? Whole families were ripped apart by this new faith. Lines drawn in the sand. Would you raise a sword against your own brother or sister? Set siege to the fortress where your wife or children have taken refuge, all because of what they believe in?"
That seemed to give the Vikings pause. Even a savage can have feelings for a wife, husband or child. It was amazing how a few differences in culture and belief could outweigh a dozen similarities shared between humans as a species. Priscilla had heard many scholars and holy men go on about how humans were the natural rulers of the world, greater then the animals they shared it with, but even beasts could get along with their own kind without waging total war.
Now it was Judith who laughed, though the noise sounded spiteful and absent of any mirth beneath her helmet. "As it turns out, the legion commanders gave little thought for family or friends once they finally acted. They started by sending their forces into any town the Divine Pyre had cropped up in, arresting their priests and anyone who supported their rhetoric. There was no care for who you were, so long as you were suspected of supporting the cultist's efforts. Panic set in among the villages in the south, no one sure who to trust and who might be spreading the cultist's lies. Dozens were taken away to tower dungeons rather then have them join the growing legion at the volcano. But by that point the cult had already spread throughout the north. The Legion Council never attempted to march on the Walled City, to really take on the leaders of the Pyre and stop this madness at the source. Oh, they broke people down and sought to retain a sense of order close to their own strongholds, but God forbid they ever make the effort to march north and help those who truly needed it."
"But why not?' asked Gunnar. Herleif turned and gave the Raider a look, seemingly surprised by the sudden interest in Judith's tale. Gunnar shrugged. "Well, if they're rounding up the supporters, why not march on the stronghold? Take the head off the snake and all that."
"Because it was a numbers game," Judith answered. Her head hung low again, as if despite everything she had already said, this was the part that hurt the most. "The Lord-Warden was not willing to risk open civil war, not with the Samurai encroaching from the Myre and you Vikings raiding from across the sea in greater numbers each season. If the legions still loyal to Beaufort had marched on the Walled City then the outcome would only be more dead Knights. Thousands more. Possibly more then we could ever come back from."
"The end of Ashfeld," Magnus sneered, patting his father's shoulder excitedly, "The end of the Legions and their puny God." Erik grinned at his son, but said nothing and allowed Judith to continue.
"Yes, I do not deny it. The volcano worshipers are too devout to see reason, and would no doubt fight to the last man in defense of Mount Ignis. A war like that would have left us crushed, hopelessly vulnerable to attack from either you or the Samurai. It was then that the Legion Council decided to cut their losses and abandon the north to the Divine Pyre entirely. They fortified the new border between them and the volcano, letting their lost territory act as a buffer while they turned their attention to the east against the armies of the Shogun."
"And they left you in the north to burn in the volcano's fire, is that it?" Herleif asked, starting to understand the bigger picture at hand. "Beaufort abandoned you at your posts, cut you loose like useless cargo on a stormy sea. Now you want to reclaim your home. But why not try to make it back south and regroup with the other legions? Why come to us?"
Priscilla leaned forward where she sat and looked over this new Warlord. He was a cunning one, this Herleif, with a cool head as well. He didn't seem to have the same kind of inflated bravado as Erik, and none of the grim blood lust as the one called Ivar the Red. Priscilla would have to keep an eye on him going forward. Cool heads often prevail as they say, which was only a welcoming thought if those heads remained on your side. To her mind, a partnership like this hardly qualified as such a situation, but it was better then going after the Divine Pyre alone. Better to simply think of these Vikings as a mutual acquaintance seeking the beneficial destruction of a third party.
Judith shook her head in frustration. This was an old tale by now, one that she had told many times to anyone who had a mind to listen. It was surely not easy for her to grovel now before their ancient enemy, but if it meant that there was even a chance of finding an alliance she would do it.
"For centuries our families have defended Ashfeld's northern lands, standing at the forefront of every raid and war while our leaders sat comfortably secluded behind high walls. Time and time again you barbarians have marched over the bodies of our fallen comrades, pillaging and burning without end. But still we fought, because what else could we do? We believed that we were fighting for something more then just honor and glory, more then just our own lives. We believed we were fighting for a world where our families could live in peace, where our children could grow without fear of a heathen's axe hanging over their heads. That was the Ashfeld we fought for, and all of it was gone in an instant, signed away with a quill and ink on parchment by weak fools who would rather see to their own estates than make any effort to defend the people who depend on them."
"Hear, hear!" said a crimson armored Lawbringer, tapping the bottom of his poleaxe against the rocky ground. A number of the other Knights gave approving nods, and tapped their fists against their chests in solidarity to their commander in who they trusted their lives. Priscilla remained silent and still, holding close her own opinions on who to trust for the moment, which for now was quite simply no one.
"For years I held faith that God and our leaders would always see us through the terrors that came at us from across the cold sea, but never once did I think that our doom would come from within our own ranks. Now I only hold faith to this. Ashfeld is weak. There is no more strength in the legions or those who command them. Their righteous talk of God and duty counts for nothing. All they ever think to do when the walls of their order begin crumbling down is to try and cover up the cracks, and hope that enough warriors die so that they might continue to rule. But you... you Vikings," her voice shook as she pointed a finger at Herleif and the others, "...you have no such fear of what terror war holds. You are all mad and savage like animals. For a time I believed you would gladly slaughter your own children to satisfy your need for violence, but now I see the clarity behind that blood lust. You win. By whatever means, by whatever cost, you break down your foe until there is nothing left of them remaining and you win."
Herleif squinted at Judith from beneath his helmet "So you wish us to attack this new legion while your leaders will not. Bold of you to come to us seeking aid. Stupid even, but I suppose your God still protects you in some way if he delivered you to a Viking fool enough to listen," he said, glancing over at Erik next to him, "But what about your kin among the cultists? What makes you think we will show them any mercy compared to your legions? Perhaps I do feel a powerful thirst for blood, Warden. Could take a number of slain Ashfeld peasants to quench it."
"You jest, heathen, but this decision does not come easy to me," Judith rebuked. "The damage to our homes is already done, and the roots of the volcano's madness run deep. Once the Legion Council abandoned the north to the cultists, soldiers of the Divine Pyre swept through the cities weeding out any who did not bow to their ideology. Any who did not believe in the volcano's power was branded a heretic and either taken prisoner or quickly executed. Homes were burned, lands and possessions were confiscated. People lived in fear of Pyre Lawbringers marching through the streets seeking out non-believers, and everywhere dishonored Peacekeepers watched from the shadows for any signs of dissent. The cultists have already left a bloody scar on their path to total control. I hardly think that you Vikings could do worse to anything that is left."
There it was, Judith's final confession laid bare. Priscilla had to give her credit, the commander would not be swayed from this uncharted path. For as many times as this plan had been discussed, Judith had never wavered or shied away from seeing it through.
To do this meant dishonor for them all, abandoning all of their oaths and beliefs to seek the aid of barbarians, and it would most certainly would result in the deaths of many Ashfeld citizens, zealots or not. They would be fighting against warriors who had once been their brothers and sisters, and standing alongside those who had once been their hated enemy. Hardly an easy task for any Knight to see through, let alone those who had been through Hell and back just to get to this point.
None of that mattered to Priscilla though, not now. All she needed was for Judith to hold true to the plan and set the Vikings on a bloody path against the cultists. So far two Jarls had agreed to join them, and third would certainly increase the odds of success even more. Herleif needed only to agree, to cast in his support, and they would be on their way to reclaiming their home again, so long as the Vikings left enough behind to pick up the pieces afterwards.
Once Judith finished speaking Herleif turned and leaned in towards Erik, speaking quietly to the other Jarl. Seeing this Priscilla stood up from her seat and began weaving her way through the Knights spread throughout the cave. She got close enough to where she could just make out what the two Warlords were discussing, remaining as still as a statue to avoid bringing attention to herself.
"...my warriors for some Knight's errand?" she heard Herleif whisper, clearly having issue with putting his men in harms way for the benefit of someone who was supposed to be his enemy. He went on still, his voice low and spiteful. "How do you know they can be trusted?"
Erik smiled softly, giving a little nod of his head, understanding Herleif's worry. He looked over at the commander and spoke loud enough for all to hear. "Judith, everything you have just told us, lamenting the weakness of your kingdom, would you say the same to your Lord-Warden as well if he were here with us now?"
"Would I say the same to him?" Judith repeated, sounding rather amused. "No, I would say nothing to him. If the Lord-Warden was here, I would cut the weak bastard down myself." That got a few more cheers from the Knights around her.
Erik nodded again, and gestured at Judith with his hand as he looked to Herleif, satisfied with the her answer. "There, you see? She seeks blood, Herleif. They all do. That is enough assurance for me. Besides, she knows that if she is lying," and he looked at her with a smile of a disappointed parent, "I will kill her for the trouble."
Herleif said nothing, stroking his beard silently in thought. Priscilla could see through his stoic display though. At the very least he felt swayed by Judith's words, and perhaps that was enough to get him to give his support. Regardless of what outcome Judith and these renegade Knight might seek, Herleif was a Viking with a need to raid to see his power flourish. It was in his nature and would see this as a great opportunity rather then a detriment, or so Priscilla had to believe.
"What's in it for us?" asked Gunnar, "What can you promise us for dealing with your volcano troubles?"
"We will give you the vault of the Walled City, along with any spoils taken along the journey," Judith answered without hesitation. "Our homes in Ashfeld are gone. We have no need for whatever you might find there and can carry away."
Herleif looked back at Judith. "What is in this vault?"
At that Judith turned and raised a hand over to Priscilla, motioning her to approach. "This is Priscilla Arentii. As ranking Peacekeeper among our legion it was her job to relay intelligence between us and Beaufort Stronghold. She discovered much about what the cultists were doing around the Walled City before the Lord-Warden cut ties with the north."
Priscilla stepped forward from the crowd and gave a small bow of her head to the Jarls. This was her time to sweeten the deal, and see to it that the Viking's lust for blood was matched only by their desire for treasure.
"Once the legions had pulled out of the north, the cultists had free reign to do as they pleased throughout their newly claimed territories," she began, speaking clearly as she looked from one Jarl to the other. "Like most tyrannical powers, the Pyre's high priests immediately began to claim and confiscate any source of wealth for themselves, proclaiming that material riches were to be devoted to the power of the volcano. Estates were raided, cities ransacked. Even churches were not exempt, and were put to fire as places of heretical worship once they were looted. Anyone with a silver candlestick or half polished goblet had it taken from them, usually at the end of a sword. The wealth was taken to the Walled City and stored in its vault where only the priests of the volcano are allowed to enter."
"All of northern Ashfeld's treasure gathered in one place," Erik said as he raised a single finger into the air, "Imagine it, Herleif. A horde so great our halls will glow with the gleaming light of Valhalla itself."
"And they've already done all the work for us, damn fools," Magnus added with a grin, "All that's left is the slaughter and it's all ours. It's almost a shame how easy it will be."
Judith shook her head in annoyance at the young Berserker. "Do not be so foolish. These cultists have put the majority of their forces on the foot of the Mount Ignis itself. Thousands gather there to worship the volcano, and are more than willing to die fighting for it if they must. Taking the Walled City will not be as simple as you think."
"Then it will be a great day for wetting my axes with Ashfeld blood at the least," Magnus snarled, stepping forward and already reaching for the weapons that dangled on his belt. He only stopped as Skuld lowered her spear into his path and pushed him back. That earned her a sharp glare from Old Wolf and Magnus both, but the Valkyrie seemed to ignore them both without concern.
"Enough, boy," Gunnar interrupted, nodding at Skuld for settling the situation quickly. "What are they doing with all that treasure? Do they seek to trade with it? I did not think your people could take wealth with them to the afterlife."
"They sacrifice it," Priscilla answered. "They throw it into the volcano as tribute, let it melt. They believe it gives the mountain the power it needs to protect them." She paused for a moment, just to relish the stunned and horrified look on Gunnar's face as he thought of all that treasure being wasted. "Or at least that is what they tell their followers. If they say it is for the good of their new god then they can take whatever they want. In truth they simply hoard it. These priests claim to be pious and devout, but it is all a veil to hide their greed and vanity. There is nothing truly religious about them."
"Thank the gods," Gunnar sighed with relief. "For a moment I feared we would arrive to late to save it all."
Erik gave the Raider a hearty chuckle. "Thank the gods indeed. There is much in this vault that I would like to lay my hands on, although there is one piece of treasure in particular that peaks my interest among the rest. Go on Peacekeeper, tell them of the true prize."
Priscilla hardly shared the Golden Jarl's interest in what resided inside the vault, but if it meant directing the wrath of these heathens upon her enemy then she was more then happy to share.
"As word of the cultists power spread there were many who flocked to join their ranks. Most were the poor and downtrodden, people willing to forsake reality for a foolish dream to live in. But there were some from Ashfeld's upper echelons who saw the rise of the Divine Pyre as a way to increase their own influence beyond what it was among the legions. One such person was a wealthy, but mid-ranking Lawbringer named Vincent Chaldeon. His family had important political ties in Beaufort and with the Lord-Warden, but Vincent never seemed to rise to the great heights he aspired to achieve. Disgruntled with his position he abandoned his legion and set out to join the cultists when they promised him a position as a prominent leader within their order, but not without first ransacking the Beaufort treasury for whatever he could get his hands on. Before he fled north, he managed to secure an important relic to take with him. A suit of armor that is seen by many as an important piece of Heathmoor's history and a reminder of dark days now past."
"The armor of Apollyon, the Wolf of War," Erik finished with a slap to his knee, unable to contain his glee any longer. "The armor of the the Harbinger herself. How would that look sitting in my hall, eh? Or better yet, mounted upon the prow of my ship? Warriors from all over Heathmoor will shit themselves when they see her dark face sailing in to seal their doom."
"A fucking lie," Herleif said, crossing his arms as he scowled at Erik. "Everyone knows that Apollyon's body was lost after the battle at the Shard, taken away by what remained of her supporters. Some say she might still yet live, that one day she will rise again to plunge the world back into eternal war. If you believe the stories, that is."
Priscilla shook her head. "Blackstone propaganda, spread about through whispers in the hopes of reclaiming past glories. The remnants of that legion have been saying such things for years, but she has yet to show up and make good on such promises. I would not mind seeing her try though. Even if she was still alive she would be what, about eighty now? Oh how the world would tremble with the coming of the Old Hag of War."
"Do not make light of Apollyon's legacy, Priscilla," warned Judith. "She is a lesson of what we should not let ourselves become as Knights. You need only look at our current situation to see how failure to heed such lessons can lead to a terrible outcome. Which is why her armor is now coveted by so many. It is as much a symbol to those who would seek to take up her mantel just as much as those that wish to keep history from repeating. It will do no good in the hands of these cultists, I promise you that."
As if it would do anything better in the hands of Vikings, Priscilla thought.
"Lot of good it's done anyone," said Gunnar, surprisingly sharing the Peacekeeper's opinion. "How long did the peace between Stigandr, the Daimyo and the old Lord-Warden last anyway? A year? Two at most? Perhaps the Wolf of War was right. Maybe we should all just kill each other until there's nothing left. Ragnarok will come and then finally the world will start a new."
"What hope does peace have when savages like you seek only to bring death and ruin to everyone?" said Judith.
"Enough. We are not here to talk about the philosophy of war, but of war itself," said Erik before tensions could rise any more. "Our purpose has been made clear. We shall sail into northern Ashfeld under the guidance of our welcomed guests, and with their aid carve a path to the mountain of fire where we will lay siege to the Walled City and claim the vault inside. You Knights will have your vengeance upon those who have wronged you, and we will have our bounty."
He turned to Herleif then and fixed the Warlord with a hard stare. "What say you, Herleif? All has been revealed now. Do you wish to join us on this perilous venture, or will you return to your hall to grow fat and soft with the pigs?"
Priscilla watched the two Warlords carefully from within her hooded helmet. From what she could tell there was definitely some friction between the two Jarls, and Herleif frowned back at Erik as he thought. Perhaps there was something that he held against the Golden Jarl? Could it be that he might decline the offer because of some personal grievance rather then the idea of easy plunder? She knew that feuds between Vikings could run deep and for a very long time, but she had to keep hope that the reward of treasure beyond imagine was enough to put an end to any issue the two men might have.
She needed this raid to get under way before the Divine Pyre grew any more powerful in their stronghold. The enemy was surely hard at work preparing to carry their word beyond their established borders, and from what she knew they would do it with a fiery power the world had never seen before. A powerful and terrible weapon that had yet to come into play. Time was not on their side.
"We can go without him," she said quickly, catching the attention of both Jarls quicker than a bear trap snapping on some poor fool's leg. Their collective stare was icy cold, but she weathered it without fear in order to see her plan through. "Two armies will be enough to storm the stronghold. The fighting will be fierce, but we will manage. The Divine Pyre is not as strong as they think."
Judith turned to look at her as if she was crazy, but it was Herleif's scowl that really interested Priscilla. "If you will do fine with two armies, then three will be even better," he growled, "I will cast my strength in with the lot of you, and come away with a nice hoard of treasure for my trouble. My sword and shield are with you, Erik."
Erik jumped up from his seat and grinned. The two Jarls embraced each other then, solidifying their agreement before all present with their bond. "I am pleased to hear it, my friend! Make what preparations you need while we're here, but we will leave soon. No later then the day after tomorrow, to be sure."
"We are ready to sail at your command, and eager to do so. Are we not ready, brother?" Herleif smiled.
"For victory or for Valhalla! My axe is ready for the fight!" Gunnar boasted, coming and slipping his big arms around the necks of Erik and Herleif both.
The three of them all laughed and gave each other proud slaps on their backs, a merry little group eager for the rush and thrill of battle. The fact that they celebrated the prospect of war upon Ashfeld soil among a group of disgruntled Knights seemed not to bother them in the least, at least not until Judith stepped forward and interrupted their little moment.
"I thank you, Jarl Herleif," said the Warden, offering out her hand to the Warlord. "I do not accept your help lightly, but on behalf of all here I am grateful. Truly."
Herleif glanced down at Judith's hand as if he couldn't be sure it wasn't poison to the touch, but eventually he relaxed and slapped his hand into hers, gripping it tightly. "Welcome to the winning side, Knight," he smiled as he shook the Judith's hand.
Priscilla lowered her head and let out a sigh. Everything was falling to place now. Soon she'd be sailing on a Viking longship back to Ashfeld and the real work would begin. She would be glad when this was all over and she could go back to more simple duties of gathering intelligence and slipping through shadows. Twisting Jarls and renegade Knights to do her bidding was stressful work.
Having no further information to give the Vikings, Priscilla stepped away, retreating back through the crowd of Knights. She moved past the Conqueror named Coal on the way to her seat, and as she walked by he gave the slightest nod of his head. An understanding, perhaps? A congratulations for getting the job done? She didn't stop moving, walking on past him without a word or gesture in return.
Against her better judgment though, she found herself slipping a hand to a pouch on her belt. The same pouch that held the orders from Beaufort Coal had brought her before they had fled north. The last orders she had been given before taking this mission on all on her own.
Taking her seat again in the dark corner of the cave, Priscilla slipped out her dagger from its sheath and began to twirl it between her nimble fingers again. For now her job was done, so she might as well find a way to pass the time until she could finally get out of this damn cave look up at the open sky once again.