Chapter 8
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Messy Business
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When the Tarnished arrived at the Roundtable Hold, a feeling of unease overtook him. He had transported himself to the keep through a fragment of grace, as always, but something about his surroundings seemed… off. The room itself looked the same, at least in a physical sense. However, the main hall itself was completely empty. While the Roundtable Hold was never a bustling hub, it was never so desolate. Corhyn, Diallos and D would usually be hanging around the table, occasionally conversing but mostly keeping to themselves. The clang of Hewg's hammer rang constantly, an ever present reminder of the blacksmith's stalwart dedication to forging a weapon that, in his words, could slay a god. But here, there was nothing. No rhythmic clang, no idle chit chat. Just an empty silence that hung in the room ominously.
The Tarnished drew his weapon cautiously. After his fight with Edgar, he really was in no mood for any surprises. In fact, he had hoped to rest for a day, perhaps check in with Rodericka and Hewg or even relax in Fia's embrace. Anything to take his mind off the man he had just slain. Whatever surprise lay before him, he hoped he could deal with it quickly.
A pair of footsteps broke the silence, growing slightly more prominent as they got closer. From the hallway to the direction of Sir Gideon's study, the Tarnished saw none other than Sir Gideon's ever silent bodyguard, Ensha, approach.
Though Ensha's skull mask was a familiar sight, it did not set the Tarnished at ease. He was not naïve enough to believe that the man was here on friendly terms. In fact, after seeing him, the Tarnished had an idea of what this was all about.
"Ensha," he said, addressing Gideon's bodyguard in a gravely serious tone, "what is this place? Do you know what force brought us here?"
Ensha, ever keeping in character, spoke not a word in response. Rather, he slowly drew a short sword in one hand and a staff in the other, continuing his way forward. The Tarnished gritted his teeth feeling his temper rising. So, this was what Sir Gideon had planned for him, sending an assassin to murder him and steal the pendent half. Ensha's presence here served only to confirm Sir Gideon's hand in the slaughter. Well, if the Sir Gideon bastard thought this would be enough, he certainly was not as all knowing as he assumed.
After a few more steps, Ensha suddenly lunged forward, trying to use his speed to catch the Tarnished off guard. The Tarnished, though, was predicting such a move and swung upward, using the heavier weight of his sword to try to throw Ensha of guard as their blades met with a CLANG! Ensha quickly backstepped, effortlessly dodging the Tarnished's follow up.
Hoping to overwhelm the assassin and force him towards the wall, the Tarnished followed up once more, this time with a leaping attack. Ensha, quick as ever, jumped back again and dodged the blow. However, to the Tarnished's surprise, as soon as Ensha landed on his back foot, he sprung up, leaping to the side onto the table and then once again down onto the Tarnished.
The Tarnished cried out in pain as Ensha dug the point of his sword into his left shoulder, tearing through a gap in his armor for a quick killing blow. Acting fast, the Tarnished whirled around and slammed his shoulder against the stone wall, knocking Ensha off just before he could drive the sword deep enough to be fatal.
His anger building with the pain, the Tarnished roared angrily and dashed forward, his left arm now limp at his side. With one hand, he swung his sword overhead in an arc towards Ensha. Once again, though, Ensha was too fast, quickly sidestepping the attack, allowing the Tarnished's blade to crash loudly into the wooden chair behind.
With a flurry off swift movements, Ensha landed several painful cuts, pinpointing the weaknesses in his armor with deadly accuracy. With each slash Ensha landed, he felt his rage boil over. Sir Gideon, the coward, would not even deign to face a man he had shook hands with and welcomed into the Round Table.
The Tarnished gritted his teeth and endured, holding his poise and managing to at least land one hit through Ensha's assault. Once the Tarnished finally drew blood, Ensha rolled back twice, putting distance between the two of them. The assassin then raised up his staff and waived it in the air. The Tarnished's eyes widened as dozens of dark purple orbs of energy formed before him.
Ensha pointed the staff towards the Tarnished and the orbs shot towards him with surprising speed for their size. The Tarnished managed to roll past one, but was staggered when a second caught him in the stomach. Having lost his footing, the rest slammed into him one by one, pummeling him with intense force. The Tarnished gagged, spitting blood as the last rammed square into his chest, knocking the wind from his lungs and sending him crashing through a chair behind him and slamming into the wall.
Ensha walked towards him painfully slowly, dragging his blade across the stone wall as he approached. The sick bastard was enjoying this, preparing to savor the kill. The Tarnished's knuckles whitened as he tightened his fist around the grip of his blade.
With a pained grunt, he pulled his flask from his pouch and took a sip. He felt the torn tendons in his shoulder mend themselves and, somewhat shakily, he stood to his feet, ready to fight again. Ensha, noticing his recovery, sped up his approach, perfectly content to cut down the Tarnished once more.
His mind a bit clearer with the power of crimson tears, he drew a knife in his left hand and prepared himself. Ensha dashed forward, trying to gut the Tarnished before he could react. Quickly, the Tarnished hopped back, readying himself for the attack that would likely follow. As he predicted, Ensha started a flurry of slashes, hoping to outpace any possible reaction with a great sword. Focusing on the ashes of war contained in the knife, quickstepped, circling his opponent so quickly that the assassin lost sight of his target for a moment. Once behind, the Tarnished swung the bloodhound sword into Ensha's back, cleaving into his side, the very weight of the sword shattering ribs as it went through.
To his credit, Ensha made no cry of pain. Rather, he spun around and reached for the Tarnished, his open hand glowing with a strange energy. Before he could grasp the Tarnished, though, the Tarnished side stepped and swung his sword, striking Ensha and dashing back as he did. Then, just as he had done against Margit, he dashed forward following through with an even more powerful strike.
Ensha attempted to roll back but could not make enough distance. The Tarnished's sword found its mark, cutting deep into Ensha's stomach and then through to the other side. Ensha's bloody corpse crumpled to the ground. The Tarnished leaned against the table and caught his breath. However, before he had a chance to come down from the adrenaline rush, a golden light obscured his vision and he felt his body being transported once more.
When the light subsided, he was once again in the Roundtable Hold. Upon quick examination, everything once again seemed as it should. The dim torchlight had returned and he could now hear Hewg forging away on his anvil. Rodericka, who had been standing nearby speaking with D, noticed his return.
"Tarnished? W-where did all that blood come from? Are you wounded?"
The Tarnished, however, was not interested in answering Rodericka's questions. He barely even heard her through his fury. His mind was on focused singularly on Sir Gideon. He stormed past Rodericka, who followed behind both out of concern and of fear of what was to follow. As he expected, the assassin he had just cut down no longer stood guard by the door. Unfortunately, though, Gideon was not alone.
Near him was Nepheli, with whom he was engaged in a heated conversation with. The Tarnished guessed that she likely had come to a similar conclusion as him and was looking to confront the all-knowing knight as well. As soon as he entered the room however, Sir Gideon held his hand up, motioning for her silence. To the Tarnished's somewhat surprise, Nepheli immediately obliged.
"Tarnished, I would ask you kindly not trail blood in my study. The documents here contain valuable information, whether you realize it or not, and we cannot afford to damage them."
His uncaring and dismissive attitude only fed the Tarnished's rage. Raising his blood covered gauntlet, he slammed it on Sir Gideon's desk, right in the middle of his map, spraying crimson droplets all over the parchment.
Sir Gideon, his voice now more serious but still unintimidated, simply said, "Rather petulant, don't you think?"
"You tried to kill me!" he snarled, not willing to allow Sir Gideon to downplay the situation, "Your man, Ensha, ambushed me and tried to gut me like livestock!"
He heard Rodericka gasp from the behind him and saw Nepheli look to her father in shock. Still, however, Sir Gideon did not seem the slightest bit surprised nor remorseful. Nor did he even seem upset or surprised that Ensha had failed. The knight simply nodded and said, "Oh yes, I was wondering where he had gone. Apologies for that nasty business. Ensha got rather ahead of himself, it seems."
Ahead of himself? The Tarnished could not believe Sir Gideon's detached demeanor. Ensha and his men slaughtered an entire settlement of people. How could he act as if the matter did not concern him at all? He could barely control himself, every inch of his being screamed to rip Sir Gideon's head from his neck. "That's all you have to say for yourself? After what you've done? Not just to me, but to the Albinaurics? Nothing to offer but a weak apology for the entire town you filled with corpses!"
Almost sounding annoyed, Sir Gideon responded, "This is getting tiresome, Tarnished. As his master, I express deep regret for the incident. However, what else would you have me do? I cannot change the past, what's done is done. And now, Ensha is dead and gone, along with his men if I had to guess, thanks to the two of you. Thus, there is nothing left to be done."
"Father, how can you act so unbothered!" Nepheli exclaimed, no longer able to hold her piece. "Those people, their homes, their livelihoods, all burnt away and trampled own!"
Now showing at least the slightest bit of emotion other than cold annoyance, Sir Gideon snapped at Nepheli, "did I not tell you to keep quiet, girl?"
Despite all the numerous foes she had bravely faced in battle, Nepheli was clearly terrified by the prospect of speaking up against her adoptive father. However, the Tarnished could tell that her sense of justice would not allow her to stay silent on the matter. "Father," she said again, with righteous conviction, "what occurred in that village was unforgivable. The Albinaurics, they hadn't harmed a sole! To just ruthlessly cut them down and pillage their belongings, what could possibly justify such atrocities?
The anger with which Nepheli spoke seemed to take even Sir Gideon off guard. However, still, Sir Gideon dismissed her, not giving even the words of his own daughter any weight. "Naïve girls should not speak on matters which they do not understand."
A new wave of rage surged throughout his body, igniting his very being. Nepheli was the closest to Sir Gideon in the Roundtable, if the two were ever close at all. If she could not make him realize the gravity of his actions then there was no hope for discussion. This man did not care whatsoever about the suffering he had inflicted. He simply sat back and pulled strings with no regard for his victims or those who worked under him. His blood boiled and his mind became clouded in a haze of bloodlust. To hell with any truce. The All Knowing had spoken his last. In a low voice, the Tarnished growled, each word dripping with hatred, "You're right. You can't bring back the dead. And the perpetrators are dead. All but one."
He lunged forward across the table towards Gideon, ready to wring the knight's neck with his own two hands. Time almost slowed as he watched as the man recoiled, unable to react quickly enough to his sudden attack. He felt almost a sick sense of satisfaction, finally seeing a genuine reaction from Sir Gideon in the knight's final moments. However, before he could reach the hunched over man, he felt something crack him in the skull with unimaginable force. The Tarnished tumbled over, falling off his feet with a thud to the side of the table. Slightly dazed and shocked from the hit, he nursed his head and slowly stood back up, trying to assess just what happened.
To his surprise, standing now between he and Gideon, was Nepheli. She approached him and, with her immense power, lifted him up by his armor and slammed him up against the wall.
The Tarnished had badly misjudged the situation and deeply underestimated how fiercely protective Nepheli was of her father. He knew she loved and admired him, but never realized those feelings bordered on fanatic dedication. The notion she would so violently come to his aid in this situation never even occurred to him. Even battling by her side against Godrick and the curse bringers, the Tarnished had never seen Nepheli with such an intense expression. She had genuine killing intent.
He choked as Nepheli increased the pressure on his neck, pushing him against the cold stone with greater and greater strength. Gritting his teeth, he struggled and grabbed at her arm, trying to force her off. But it was no use, he was exhausted from the fight from Ensha and Nepheli was stronger than he could have imagined. Would Sir Gideon's acts go unpunished? Did she truly intend follow his every word, even now?
He could see Rodericka pulling on Nepheli desperately, probably screaming at her to stop. He couldn't be sure, however, as all sounds were becoming muffled under the warrior woman's tightening grip. As his vision grew spotty, he heard something call out to him.
"What are you doing?"
Unlike the others, he heard it with perfect clarity. The voice was dark, filled with hatred and bloodlust unlike any he had ever heard. His eyes darted around, trying to find the speaker. Again, the thing spoke.
"Use your claws, bare your fangs. She has no mind of her own. Let's give both her and her father a taste of your steel."
With at much focus as he could manage, he narrowed in on the source. Across the room, lurking in a dark corner, was a wolf like beast with jet black fur and enormous claws. He stared at it in disbelief, trying to understand just what it was and how it had gotten into the hold. Nobody else seemed to notice it though. Were they truly oblivious to its presence?
The wolf stepped forward, just outside the shadows, revealing more of its terrifying form. Every inch of its hide was covered in cuts and scars, clearly visible against its unkempt black fur. The creature looked starving, with its stomach emaciated and its ribs visible through its hide. Its mouth hung open, revealing enormous, gruesome fangs. Its eyes were bloodshot and its red pupils burned with a desperate hunger.
"Do not hesitate!" it barked in frustration, "Have you forgotten the Queens betrayal? The vile command she gave our Lord and our brothers? That hellish, unending march beyond the Lands Between?!"
The Tarnished tried desperately to fend off the grisly images flashing in his mind. Visions of a sea of bodies clad in armor. Men tripping over their comrade's entrails. Soldiers, barely able to stand, picking themselves up only to march onward to yet another battle. The more he fought these memories the clearer and fiercer its snarls became. "Take from them their runes. Sacrifice them as fuel for our retribution." The creature seemed to grow as it spoke, its shadow looming larger with each bloody word. "If we do, we'll become closer to Marika. We'll show her how strong we've become beyond the fog. Devour her slaves, body by body, until we can clamp our fangs around her throat and rip it out."
The monstrous wolf now blocked all sight, its dark presence overwhelming all else in the room. The Tarnished felt his muscles twitch as violent impulses began to overtake him. His concern for the crushing pressure against his throat slowly evaporated. However, just before he could act, he heard none other than Melina whisper quietly in his ear.
"My Tarnished, is this truly the path to Lordship you wish to take?"
Suddenly, he felt his body hit the floor, snapping him out of his trance. Now hunched over on all fours, he gasped for air, ripping his helm off so it didn't impede his breathing.
"Tarnished, are you alright?" Rodericka asked in a panic, rushing to his side.
He looked up and saw that the commotion of their quarrel had drawn the attention of most others at the Hold. D and Diallos were standing a few feet away restraining Nepheli while Fia took a place beside him as well.
Sir Gideon himself finally left his spot at the table and walked over beside Nepheli, but made no effort to free her from D's grip. When he spoke, the Tarnished detected no hint of mockery. Rather, Sir Gideon seemed deathly serious. "That expression there. It was a bloody wolf's berserker's rage, wasn't it? I'm surprised, Tarnished. I didn't think you had it in you to genuinely try and kill both me and my daughter."
The Tarnished was surprised by his own thoughts as well. If the others hadn't stepped in, would he actually have killed Nepheli? Nepheli, the woman who had fought so valiantly by his side, one of his closest comrades? No, he couldn't let Sir Gideon shift the topic. He still had to answer for his actions. "You're a heartless killer, Gideon," he sputtered out, still trying to catch his breath
Sir Gideon shook his head, almost in disappointment. "I look to fulfill the sole purpose given to us tarnished: to reunite the Lands Between once more and end the struggle brought on by capricious demigods. To that end, I will spill whatever blood necessary, thus is my duty. I do not take joy in it. I do not revel in it. I simply do as I must because that is what Queen Marika expects from us."
"You would mindlessly murder and pillage for that reason alone?"
His tone shifted, his words becoming darker and more condemning. "The fact that you still spew such nonsense proves you are ignorant as to what is at stake. Tell me, Tarnished, do you know why I was searching for the Haligtree medallion?"
"You think you can-"
Sir Gideon cut him off. "That medallion is crucial in finding two unlocated demigods, Miquella the Unalloyed and, most pressingly, his twin Melania. My informants have scoured these lands but have found not a trace of either in Limgrave, Caelid, or Mt. Gelmir. The walls of the capital have not been breached once even throughout the Shattering. Thus, the two are most likely hiding away in their realm."
This was not surprising to the Tarnished. From the beginning he had guessed that Sir Gideon was after information on more great runes. He understood the need to find the other demigods. However, that still did not justify his actions. "So, instead of attempting reason or even theft, you had an entire village massacred?"
"I did not direct Ensha on how to go about his task. I only ordered him to bring me the medallion."
The Tarnished sneered, "You're Sir Gideon the All Knowing. You knew exactly what Ensha would do."
"And what of it? He could have killed one or one hundred Albinaurics and it would have made no difference to me. Not compared to what is at stake if Melania is not found. Tell me Tarnished, have you traveled past the Mistwoods to the Caelid Wilds?"
"No, not yet." The Tarnished had not journeyed to Caelid, but had heard many tales about the horrors that lay to the East.
"Allow me to impart unto you a history lesson, then," Sir Gideon said, "Back, during the Shattering, Malenia clashed with General Radahn in his domain of Caelid, both seeking to claim the other's Great Rune. Both were warriors of unprecedented strength, the two strongest demigods in all the Lands Between. Thus, in their battle, neither could claim victory over the other. In her desperation, in a last attempt to overcome her mighty foe, Malenia let bloom the scarlet rot. Then…" Sir Gideon whacked the bottom of his staff against the stone floor, letting the sound echo through the halls. "In instant, hundreds upon hundreds dead. An entire region blighted beyond repair. Now she resides somewhere beyond our reach and, should she bloom again, the result will be even more disastrous than before."
As much as he despised it, the knight's reasoning began to dawn on him. Still unconvinced but his conviction wavering, the Tarnished said, "Surely, there had to be a better way. The Albinaurics did not need to die so that you could get the medallion."
Sir Gideon shook his head, "Once again you are ignorant of the facts. The Albinaurics are miserable creatures untouched by grace. Their only salvation is Miquella's Haligtree, which they one day wish to return to. That medallion is the only key for their pilgrimage. You think they would part with something so precious willingly?"
"But they did! The owner of the medallion gave it to me!"
"And why did he do that?" questioned Sir Gideon, still absolutely sure of himself, "Was it out of the kindness of his heart? Was it because he wished for you to reach the Haligtree yourself? Or was it that he was terrified that, should he not give it to you, Ensha's men would have found it instead and destroyed their holiest of sites?"
The Tarnished thought back to the decrepit man, Albus, and the truth. The only reason he had gotten the medallion in the first place was that he was the lesser of two evils. Albus had simply, out of desperation, put his hopes in the only option that could possibly protect the Haligtree. Sir Gideon was right. He hated himself for seeing it, but Sir Gideon was right.
Sir Gideon nodded, satisfied that the Tarnished was sufficiently pacified, then moved back to his table. After Fia and Rodericka helped him to his feet, Sir Gideon told him, "You're dismissed if that's all."
Shaken and utterly defeated, the Tarnished took his leave along with Fia and Rodericka. D released Nepheli and followed closely behind, ensuring no other fights broke out. However, before he stepped out the door, he heard Sir Gideon say, "You, Nepheli, have disappointed me once again."
He turned his head and saw Sir Gideon berating the woman who had just saved his life. Justifiably shocked, Nepheli responded, "F-father? What do you mean?"
Sir Gideon looked back down to his papers and waived his hand dismissively. "You heard me, girl. A determined plebian is more wicked than an Omen horn quite frankly. I suppose I'm not disappointed, however, as it would have been foolish to expect too much from you to begin with."
The Tarnished could see Nepheli's look of devastation. In that moment, it was as if her world shattered before her. However, after what happened, he could not bring himself to speak up on her behalf. To his shame, he turned his back on Nepheli and left her, with Sir Gideon.
Fia and Rodericka sat him down at the round table and the others returned to their usual spots, an awkward silence initially hanging in the air.
"Tarnished."
He felt a tap on his shoulder and then saw Rodericka looking down at him, her eyes filled with pity.
"For the record," she said, her expression uncharacteristically serious and determined, "I still think Sir Gideon was wrong. Maybe the stakes were high. Maybe the people there wouldn't have parted with the medallion so easily. Maybe it's true that they'd hold onto it with they're lives. But… I feel like giving up and resorting to slaughter like that, it can't lead to a better future. It just can't."
The Tarnished weakly smiled, grateful for her words of comfort. "Thank you, Rodericka. And hopefully, with this medallion, I can at least make sure their deaths were not in vain."