*/*/*


A King In Yellow

"Whelp! Get up ya lazy slug!" Vesli coughed and very nearly shifted into Rir at the shock of being woken up by having ice cold water dumped on him. He gave a baleful look up at Face, who held a now empty bucket. "It's test day."

"Test day?" Vesli got up, taking his own sweet time in vengeance for the wake-up.

"'M makin' sure ya've been keepin' up yer trainin'." Face was unconcerned and unapologetic.

"And you couldn't just wait for me at the training grounds?"

"We're not sparrin' today whelp."

"Oh?"

"Yer comin' with me on a mission."

"Say what now?"

"Get up, whelp. Else ya will be findin' that I can get creative wit' ma mo'vation."

Vesli decided that he didn't want to find out. "At least let me tell my own team so that they know I've not gone rogue."

"Fair 'nough."

*/*/*

The other three had been quite shocked to learn that Vesli had been drafted into another group's mission. The had been even more surprised to learn that he was going to accompany the prickly man-at-arms that hung around the training grounds who had decided to improve Vesli's combat skills.

"Need introduction," Bird had demanded after a moment of silence.

"Yes ma'am," Vesli dipped his head.

And now here he was, clutching his tattered red cloak against a cold breeze as his feet carried him to meet Face and whoever else was coming on this quest. Vesli snorted to himself. Hope Face wasn't wanting one of the Holier-than-thou people to accept working with him. After that display with the Holy Bastard Vesli doubted it, but there was always a chance.

Vesli looked up to spot this new team waiting on him. The man was not sure what he expected. But this was certainly not it. Face looked battle ready, as the veteran always did. It was the other two who were surprising. The person standing to Face's left was an Antiquarian of all things. The royal purple of her scarves looked barely even dusty, and that blade she carried looked about as dangerous as a cheese knife. The Arbalest at least looked like she could deal some damage with that crossbow on her back. Besides the well cared for appearance, it was clear the green armor had seen combat. "Whelp. 'Bout time ya got here," Face grunted. "Already gave them warnin' 'bout yer 'extra', since we're ta be workin' together." Vesli gave a stiff nod, recognizing the necessity, and not wanting to see their reactions, just in case they hadn't responded as well as his team had.

"Oh. H-hello there. I'm Brix. P-pleasure to meet you," the Antiquarian's slight stutter and soft voice was not raising Vesli's confidence levels in her.

The Arbalest nodded her head in a warrior's greeting. "Courci," was the short introduction offered. It was unclear if the Arbalest appreciated his presence or not, but Vesli would be civil unless provoked.

"I look forward to working with you both," Vesli inclined his head to them.

"Whelp, ladies, bes' be off. Those rooms in tha Ruins won't be scoutin' themselves," Face headed off, threatening to leave them behind if they didn't start walking too.

Vesli shook his head at the older man, but caught up easily enough, the others bringing up the rear.

*/*/*

Vesli was having to adjust his judgement of the Antiquarian. Her hits wouldn't bother a fly, but she had a sharp eye for things that glittered. She was somehow managing to find something valuable even in random torch sconces! "Just… how?" his brain hurt from attempting to understand. He could almost swear that there had been nothing before, but even in the piles of the defeated skeleton bones she always managed to come away with something.

Face chuckled at his confusion. "Impressive isn' it?" said just as the Antiquarian produced a glass vial molded in the shape of a tentacle-creature. It looked like something Bird would appreciate, so Vesli made a note to request it later. Perhaps it would make a good gift, if the others in this party permitted him to take it.

"I am surprised she's managing to fit all of this into our packs. I will admit she has superior special reasoning than myself or any in my team," Vesli hefted the sack he was designated in emphasis.

"This is actually one of her 'bad' runs," Courci drawled, "She's gotten much more."

"Of course she has," Vesli rubbed his temples.

"I have tha map the Heir wanted. 'Spose we should be headin' back soon. Whelp, yer still favorin' yer left. Thought I broke ya o' that. We'll be fixin' it when we get back ta tha Hamlet," Face gave Vesli a flat look. Vesli winced but knew better than to protest. Face would only make it worse if he tried. He merely nodded with the acceptance of a man condemned to the noose. The party turned to start their journey back. Sickly yellow mist rose from the ground, swirling and dispersing with their footfalls. Given the nature of the twisted ruins it was something Vesli felt no need qualm in brushing off. That changed when the Rir's hackles rose and the mist began to move under foot. Gathering and swirling in the hall ahead of them, moving faster and faster as a gaunt figure rose. Slowly, it's back arched, a figure draped in rotting robes of the same putrid yellow of the fog that heralded it. It's head a skull adorned in blue fire and trapped in a rusted iron cage in which it rattled. Slowly it raised a shaky hand to the sky, it's skeletal fingers held as if in invitation before the coming hell was let loose.

A rush of putrid air, filled with the stench of rotted eggs rushed forth from the creature's billowing robes. Underneath the decaying cloth lay the skulls and flesh of countless men and women, their eye sockets lit with a sharp blue glow, their skin stretched and part of the robe. It's teeth chattering in what almost sounded like excitement the undead thing reached into itself and grabbed three of the faces, pulling them out of its robes, the skin tearing and blood dropping before they were thrown outward. The blue glow from the eye sockets encompassed the faces and the spines that came with them, letting them float, their spines undulating and swaying like the tails of serpents.

The first skull was that of a man who looked of similar stature to Face from what flesh remained upon the gaunt bone. The second wore the garb of a Highwayman and even in death the eyes retained the sharp cunning gleam of that profession. The last… the last wore the hood of a Vestal "Bele," he whispered in shock at the sight of the face of the one Vestal who had actually treated him with compassion.

"Tha's Azor," Face grunted while looking at the skull similar to his own but there was an anger in the veteran's voice that Vesli had never before heard.

"And that's B-Baudry," Brix's voice was heavy with grief as tears wet the ground beneath her.

'Rir' he growled to his 'tenant', anger coursing through his veins like poison as Rir gave him his attention, 'Let's break this bitch.' The man could feel Rir give a bloodthirsty grin before he allowed the transformation to take place. Throwing back his head, Vesli gave a mighty roar, blasting back the yellow smoke from the force of it as even the unholy demon they stood against seemed to take a nervous step back.

"I couldna agree more, Whelp," Face's visage was set in stone, the grizzled warrior hefting his mace, "This bag of bones killed one of my friends, one of yours too if Fuzzy Whelp decided to show up."

"He killed m-my brother," Brix's tears still flowed forth but her eyes had ceased to drown in grief, now they burned with vengeance. "I'll c-carve out his heart and feed it to the d-dogs!" Despite her poor show in the fights, Rir felt a hint of fear at the woman's expression.

"He didn't kill any of mine, but if you lot die, I don't get paid," Courci sighed, readying a bolt into her crossbow. Getting tired of the talk, Rir let out a roar and charged, the murderous undead clearly feeling the same given its chittering orders to the souls it had stolen. Reaching the first skull, the one who was once Face's friend, Rir grabbed it and began pounding the skull against the ground. With each impact of bone against granite, Rir growled out what translated roughly as 'break'.

Not one to stand idly by, Face gave out a yell, raising his shield and charging, bullets from the spirit of the Antiquarian's brother bouncing from the metal, the impact ringing throughout the halls. Out of the corner of his eye, Rir saw Face swing his mace at Bele's skull, her bones shattering with a single hit, shards flying everywhere as the blue mist that rested in her eye sockets dissipated. Vesli's pain echoed through their bond and even Rir let loose a single tear before the skull in his grip cracked against the ground.

Behind him, he heard the sound of more bones shattering as the blue skulled fiend gave out a furious shriek, once more opening its robes and throwing out three more skulls. This time it was a Highwayman and two more veterans like Face, none of whom he recognized. Vesli knew that if this thing was able to simply summon more enemies constantly then the fight would never end. He remembered the training he had learned from Face and, more importantly, so had Rir. Ignoring the bolt that shot over his shoulder and through the eye of the Highwayman spirit, Rir rushed forward and grabbed the spines of the two veteran warriors. Remembering how Face used his mace, Rir imitated the stances and motions, swinging the thick skulls like weapons. These skulls were just as durable as the last one, and Rir pummeled the beast that had murdered Bele. After several consecutive hits, the last on actually cracking one of the skulls from the force of it, the fiend fled. When far enough away, the other skull in Rir's grip crumbled apart. "Those were Basnage an' Bainard," Face said, moving to stand next to him and stare at the faint glow of blue in the distance, "I used ta serve wit' 'em an' Azor." Giving a roar of anger that their prey had escaped, Rir allowed Vesli to once more resume control as he dropped to the ground panting, his chains reforming and draping his shoulders with their cold weight.

"The Vestal," Vesli wheezed, "her name was Bele. She… she was the only one to treat me like I was human when I first got here." Remembering the Antiquarian's words, Vesli turned and saw the woman kneeling on the ground, her body shaking and eyes wide, unseeing. Her knife was clutched tight in her fist and shattered bones lay before her. "Oh no," he said softly, realizing she had to 'kill' her own brother in the fight. Reaching into their packs, the man took out the simple wooden boxes that were used to store rations and started putting the bone shards into their own boxes, carving the names of the victims into the lids. Handing a box to Brix, he tried to think of something Caillot might say to comfort her. "He… he was already gone," Vesli's words felt hollow and awkward, "You gave him peace, now you can give him a burial." Eyes somewhat hollow, she gave a weak nod and took the box.

Feeling a tap on his shoulder he turned to see Face offering a box with the name 'Bele' carved into the lid. Vesli slowly accepted it, gently depositing the shards into their new home. The other respective boxes filled with their precious contents, Brix arranged them into the packs, and the group once more set out to update the map of the Ruins for the Heir and to bury these comrades for themselves.

*/*/*

Six more holes in the ground. Six more stones in the graveyard. Vesli, Face, Brix and even Courci stood there, looking at the fresh mounds silently. Brix turned to Vesli, holding out her hand. "Here. S-saw you giving this a look. T-thank you for helping me find my brother. Even i-if it's not in the way I w-wanted." Vesli felt cool glass hit his palm. It was the odd vial he thought Bird would enjoy. A cheap trinket it seemed now, after all of this.

"I am sorry," he murmured, not knowing what else he could say.

Brix shook her head. "I-It was not your doing." She walked away, seeming to want solitude. Courci was the next to leave. The Arbalest gave both men a quiet dip of her head before heading away from the graveyard, hands tight on her crossbow. Vesli looked to the old veteran who still stood beside him, and clasped his hand on Face's shoulder.

"Ya will have ta forgive this ol' soldier if he's not in tha mood ta work on fixin' yer stance fer today."

"I understand, Face."

"Braund. But it's still Face ta ya, Whelp."

"… Well, Face, I'll leave you to your thoughts".