Liquor still thudded through Jeaph's brain despite the copious amounts of bean water he'd been given. 'Black. Not even goat's milk for it.' He made a bit of a sour face, but drank the rest of the coffee anyway and laid the cup down with trembling fingers, around him were half a dozen other Ongeku who had slowed down his sobering up a bit by peppering him with questions about the dead Kenmet, his family, his life. Jeaph squeezed his eyes shut tight against the throbbing in his head, but could do nothing about trembling fingers that revealed his fear.
'They must have been such good friends… so hard to lose someone so close to you…' The thought passed through the other Ongeku, who choked up as they tried to share in the deep grief of the companion of the defiant Kenmet.
'Ugh, stop asking me! I barely knew him! We got busted at the same time, worked together a bit, that's all!' Jeaph cursed in his mind, but spun the yarn longer and longer. "Oh yes, he was the strongest fighter I'd ever seen, if we hadn't been drinking… and he could drink four casks without slurring his speech, so that tells you how drunk he was, well…" Jeaph pounded his fist on the table, "He could have taken on a dozen of their elite priests while taking a shit and whistling!"
By the time he was completely sober, or sober enough to call it that, Jeaph was animatedly telling stories of their boyhood exploits and how Kenmet longed to expel the Newcomers. How Kenmet confessed to being the illegitimate son of a noble and a priestess, and the legend grew, springing from the hopes of those around him.
'If you'd just stop asking me questions, I could stop lying…' Jeaph mused and set another cup down.
A few feet away, Ormand kept checking the window of the upper room in which they'd found themselves and looking down into the street.
The long cloak of night would not last forever. And even sobering up, Jeaph could tell the nervous sense of expectation was growing in the tightly muscled man.
It felt like hours, the twitching fingers, the constant looks, Jeaph felt it rising in all of those around him. Shoulders squared a bit more, jaws were a bit more tense, teeth were bared more readily. Hatred for the Newcomers was just a little bit louder than it might have been before. And then Ormand left the window and went to the simple wooden door that confined their anger to a single room. He flung it open, and a moment later a man bearing a long sack over his shoulder came in. A twin in all respects to Ormand, save for the black shirt, Jeaph felt he was looking at one man looking into a mirror.
Ormand slapped his hands down on both of the man's shoulders, "You brought what we need?"
The bear of a man grinned toothily and unslung the sack from off his shoulder and slammed it with a meaty thunk into Ormand's chest. "Have I ever let my brother down before?" He winked.
Ormand returned the gesture and removed his hands from his brother's shoulders and held the sack close for a moment. He then slammed the end down on the floor and opened it up to look down into it. "Never yet. Nope, never yet, and not this time either."
The others were rising from their seats, the sound of cheap chairs scraping over the floor in unison briefly filled the room, Jeaph was slower than the others, but reluctantly followed their lead a moment later.
He pushed his way briefly through the group until he got to the front and saw what Ormand was looking at. With the sack partially pulled down, it was obvious. Long straight swords. Jeaph's heart raced as he stared down.
"At first…" Ormand said gravely, "I was just going to ask you to tell stories, but… having heard of your courage beside Kenmet the Great and Defiant, well… you should get the chance to go with us, to really avenge him. The first goes to you, Bold Jeaph."
Ormand grinned broadly, proudly, and Jeaph felt his blood freeze in his veins. 'Damnit! Damn you, you damned moron! You and your stories, you just wanted to build him up a bit so you didn't bear any blame for what ended up happening… but no. No. Now look at you!' He swallowed, opened his mouth to object, but seeing the almost blissful joy on Ormand's face, and feeling the pressure of those around him, he reached out and grabbed a blade. The weight wasn't bad at least.
Jeaph held it up, then brought it down, intending to cup the blade and pretending to inspect it. However immediately found himself suppressing a yelp by hissing in pain when he mistakenly brought it down edge first.
Seeing the bright stain of red on his olive skin, Jeaph felt his face flush the same color, embarrassed.
He quickly covered it, "If I'm not afraid of shedding my own blood, I won't be afraid of them doing it. Kenmet never feared the sight of his own blood, so I won't either." He kept his face down, his hairs stood on end and his body shaking.
Ormand broke the silence. 'Such a… powerful statement. All Ongeku have heroes blood… I just wish I could see what noble face he wore while looking down at the red stain on his flesh and on his sword…' He cleared his throat to speak, "Kenmet the Great and Defiant's companion has given us a great truth… we should all know fearlessness like his." He then took a blade out for himself, and made a cut on his own hand. One by one, with great solemn silence, the rest of the room imitated the gesture.
"A taste of Ongeku blood on Ongeku blades, before a feast of Newcomer blood on the same." Ormand whispered, and growls and rumbles of agreement echoed the sentiment.
"Come on, let's go, Bold Jeaph, we've got a body to recover, and maybe if you're lucky, a few to make." Ormand brought his hand down hard on Jeaph's back.
Jeaph staggered out with such force that when he hit the steps a pace or two beyond, he had to jog down the stairs to keep from falling and to cover for his dignity. 'Damnit!' He swore as the door outside drew closer.
They cleared their little camp quickly enough, the small flame doused to nothing, leaving only a burnt out patch of ground to show that they'd been there at all, before they turned their eyes North. Goan looked down at the forest at the base of the hill. Nemu and Kuuderika fell in behind him, but he didn't step forward.
"Well? What are you waiting for, fearless leader? The wind is still blowing that way, so we should get going if you want to keep windwalking." Nemu said and poked him in the ribs. The firm muscle of his body gave only a little under her prodding touch, but to her surprise, he didn't look over to her.
"I'm telling you, I saw what I saw." His lips barely moved, but it was more than a whisper.
"That's what you said when we went after that nest of Hungry Ones. Remember that?" Nemu put her hands on her hips and squared off beside him. She stared flatly, but to her further surprise, he didn't stare back.
Goan hung his head, "Yes… I know, I was wrong back then, who knew they could make golems like that though? That was a trick, a good one, and I was wrong. We've all been wrong before, but this wasn't 'a' creature. This was not some child's cry… I saw the entire forest… get up and walk." Goan clenched his fist and gritted his teeth, "Something is wrong about that. Only one magic caster in the world has that kind of power."
Kuuderika twisted her staff in hand, 'This isn't him… he's never anxious. Ever.' She moved in front of him and cast her eyes from Nemu to Goan in turn. Unsure of quiet what to say, one hand flew from her staff and rested on his shoulder. "Goan!" he jerked his eyes to her, the shadow of death lingered in his look, "Listen… it's fine. We can just go… another way. If you're worried, I mean. There's nothing wrong with caution."
Goan looked down at her tender hand, 'So much magic passed through that hand over the years… funny, she somehow casts a spell on me just by being herself.' He mused, and finally cracked a smile, a small one, but it cracked his blank expression nonetheless.
He swallowed and coughed, his mind racing before he replied. "No, listen to me, I know what I saw, but… suppose I am wrong? Then… nothing. But if I am right, if there is some danger here, we're Breaking Dawn, we're adventurers, we have to face it, find out what it is, and if we can't defeat it, report it. But listen to me… both of you." He looked to Nemu and Kuuderika each in turn, "You may think my eyes were tricked this time, but I want you to act as if I wasn't. Behave as if there is a serious danger here. I don't want to lose you two."
"Fine…" Nemu rubbed the back of her auburn hair and her shoulders relaxed, "I mean just because I didn't see what you saw… and though I'll never admit this publicly, little brother, you are very, very rarely wrong."
"When he is, it's a doozy though!" Kuuderika managed a feeble, playful punch on his shoulder.
Goan rolled his eyes, "Alright, fine, we go. But we stay together…" He slowly turned an eye toward Nemu. "That includes you." He raised a hand and pointed to her. "Don't scout far ahead on this one."
She crossed her arms in front of her in a huff, "You don't really think…"
He stared at her.
"That I would…" She trailed off a little.
He stared at her.
He stared some more.
Nemu stamped her foot and blushed under his dark eyed and unblinking gaze. "Fine! God's bones! See, this is what happens when you work with the same people for this long." She flung up her hands in exasperation. "You win, you win. I'll stay close enough that even our pervy aunt would say 'gimmie some space'."
"That's better." Goan said, then scratched his head, "I guess, anyway." And he took off down the hill at a brisk, light jog.
Kuuderika snickered at Nemu's annoyance, and the two took off behind him a moment later. The long dirt trail went into the woods, and they got a close look at the trees and the space around them within a few minutes.
The branches overhead cast a dark, cool canopy over the trail. The branches swayed back and forth in a slow, creaking way, the whishing and wooshing of the wind through the green made it seem like the whole of the forest wanted them to be quiet. Kuuderika came closer to him by a pace, and he felt Nemu's aura vanish as she used one of her martial arts.
Their footsteps fell lightly beneath the great, towering trees that loomed over them far more than it seemed from atop the hill that had let them look down over the long green tops.
Goan felt the hand of Kuuderika on his shoulder and slowed his pace, a faint rustling of cloth struck his sensitive ears, and the softest touch seemed to pass from her other hand to him as she touched Nemu in turn.
'You feel it, don't you.' Goan said to them as their minds synced up.
'I believe you.' Nemu said succinctly. 'There are broken branches, the earth is churned up, the empty spaces look uprooted, the bushes are damaged, at least most of them. Walking trees would explain it.'
Goan inclined his head slightly as they walked on, 'Kuuderika, do you think they're intelligent? Controlled? Enchanted? Dangerous?'
She chewed her lip over the question, 'I don't know. I've never heard of a forest that could walk by itself before. It could just be a peculiar thing that trees do. It could be that there's an enchantment behind it. They didn't attack us last night, maybe they're sentries? We just don't know enough. If we were any other people I'd say we should turn back and report this but…'
'But we're not.' Nemu and Goan said in unison through the link.
Kuuderika shrugged it off, though not without a shiver, 'Fine, so we go forward, Ongeku have come south often so… maybe it is nothing.'
'Maybe.' Was the dual response from her companions.
Moaleh En Aiweneth flicked the silver jewelry that dangled from her horn and enjoyed the faint tinkling of the bells close to where they dangled from her left ear. It would ring lightly throughout her night walk, providing a little musical accompaniment to her enjoyment of the evening.
She brought her dark cloak around herself and the hood up. Then out the door of her estate she went, her feet echoing lightly, on the stone. Nobody was around to hear it, the colony she served was sound asleep. It left her to indulge one of her favorite things since coming over the sea to serve Governor Mu'Crasi. Walking off the pleasure of a good cup of coffee in the pleasant night air. Her deep red, demon-elf eyes took in the darkness, though in that cloak of night, everything had a faint white tint to it that was not present in the daylight.
Regardless, she savored the alone time, her hands swung casually at her side, but despite all that, a part of her was on edge. She couldn't quite place why until she found where she'd walked to. Where the dwarven overseer had died. She crouched down and touched the stone that was still bloodstained, and likely always would be. She cursed under her breath and looked up to where the worker must have stood to throw the dwarf to his death.
It all struck Moaleh as so senseless. 'Stupid fool. All you had to do was pay for a fight. Why did you kill him? Why did you force me to kill you? Maybe Mu'Crasi was right? Maybe I've been taking too hard a line. I mean if I'd just let them go, nobody was really badly hurt. If I'd just done that, maybe this wouldn't have happened.'
Her ears twitched. "God beyond the sea… get a grip Moaleh, you're not used to second guessing yourself." She muttered and stood up, then resumed her stroll. Driven by habit more than anything else, she walked in the direction of the governor's manor, a humble place, at least relative to the rest of the Empire, she nonetheless felt a bursting of pride in her breast when she passed it by. "I wonder if it was hard for him to reign in his greed?" She chuckled a bit at the money grubbing minotaur she served. For all she knew of his avarice, she recalled how he'd paid for everything himself that furnished it. It made her crack a smile in spite of her declining mood, somewhere in there, he was either snacking, snoring, or rutting with some minotaur girl fresh off the boat after dazzling her with his title and his silver merchant's tongue. She flicked her ear slightly, no noise from within. 'No sex tonight huh? That makes two of us.' She rolled her eyes at her reminding herself of her nonexistent sex life. There hadn't been time for her to chase girls in years. Though as she mused that frustration, she felt none of the regret she knew she should have.
Her eyes swept the empty streets as she walked on, 'One day… one day this colony will be the jewel of the western colonies. It will be a bright example, a shining city on a hill, the Nazarick of the west, they'll call it. Our god will praise our devotion, our children will despair that they cannot surpass us…' She swore the oath as she walked on, lost in thought. Though her eyes swept over the simple buildings that were purely functional in nature, it wasn't those that she was truly seeing. They fell away from her eyes and were replaced by the great blended architecture of the Empire. The huge parks of Re-Estize, the great forest structures of the elves, the stone of dwarves and the towering structures built by humans, orcs, ogres, and others. She saw dragon landing places and mighty walls protecting all within. Over it all, the banner of their god flew proudly in the wind.
Moaleh's hand raised up as if to reach out and touch the future she could see.
Only for a noise to jolt her from her thoughts.
Her hand fell slowly back to her side as she peered into the night. Lost in thought, she had wandered toward the place where Kenmet had been hanged. His body should have still been hanging there. Instead, her sensitive ears told her eyes where to go to find the source of the noise, and she saw that the body had fallen, and several were gathered around it.
"Stop!" She shouted instinctively, her shrill voice piercing the cover of night, she ran toward them, throwing back the hood over her cloak, she raised her hand up, the group was shouting, rage sparked in her eyes, there were two other bodies slumped near the wall. 'Guards… they killed the guards! They killed guards over somebody who is already dead?!' The realization was brutal, and she called out to the whole of the city. "Guards! Guards!" She cried out as loudly as she could, the figures in the dark were already scrambling away, one of them however, stood between the others and herself. 'Brave. Brave and stupid.' She thought as she fired a magic poisoned dart toward her target.
Jeaph froze when he heard her shouting, his companions however, did not. Ormand must of used a martial art, because he snatched up Kenmet's corpse like it was nothing, flung it over his shoulder, snarled for his companions to go, without so much as a grunt of effort.
Ormand could scarcely believe his eyes, while the rest of his comrades were already dropping to sprint away, Jeaph was standing firm with his sword still in hand… 'Such nobility… he's sacrificing himself for us to get away with his friend's corpse… the pillar of Ongeku will and courage… and it is standing right in front of me. If only you could live to fight beside me… we'd make legends… legends.' His hazel eyes filled with tears, Jeaph didn't so much as twitch.
Ormand shut his eyes, the crazed woman's face was briefly illuminated when a lantern went on as someone thrust it out a window overhead, 'Demon-elf… that's the bitch who serves the governor…' He snarled and his hand tensed on his sword, he spat in fury when he heard the heavy boots of guards called from out of sight to close the brief window of opportunity he and his band had seized for themselves.
Jeaph still hadn't moved. "Go… move… RUN!" The words were whispered through gritted teeth from the motionless statue that Jeaph had become, dawning understanding cracked through Ormand.
"Right… I will! Thank you… your sacrifice won't be in vain…" Ormand whispered swiftly and used another martial art to boost his speed, his powerful legs pushed off of the ground, and he was running at a dead sprint.
Jeaph's pulse pounded like mad but he couldn't make his body move, "Go… Move… RUN!" He gritted out the words, commanding his body to act, but it would not listen. 'Stupid, stupid stupid stupid, nothing you could do, never should have said anything, not a damn thing… damnit…' He cursed himself again and again until the moment the poison dart pierced his chest, such was the power of his terror to fix him in place, that he didn't fall. She fired her spell again, the twisted face of the demon-elf that was briefly illuminated by the sudden light overhead only made his heart pound harder.
His 'comrades' were already well away, but the guards were converging on him. The pain of the poisoned dart finally jolted him out of his fear, and he managed to turn to run, only to find that guards had emerged at his back, and he was charging at them, as others were rushing in close. He clumsily raised his sword to the sky and screamed as they closed in on him, another dart struck him in the back of the leg. He howled again as the force spun him, he accidentally smacked a guard in the side of the head, sending him falling into his companions. Only by the purest chance, the clattering armor and tangle of limbs caught up in the dark wrought enough confusion that they went down in a heap. Jeaph desperately tried to jump, he felt his foot catch on one of the bodies.
"Damnit!" He managed to shout as he fell over top of the heap, swords and knives pierced him as the allies of those he'd 'felled' opened up fresh wounds. The moonlight illuminated the bloody wounds, his flesh tore open, and gurgled moans were obscured by blood fountaining out of his mouth.
'Got to get up… got to run… got to go… I don't want to die…' Jeaph thought frantically, his desperate eyes casting about for anything he could do to save himself from atop the heap as he bled out… and then, Jeaph died.
And from a distance, sharp, martially enhanced vision caught the scene, as the lone Ongeku brought down many of the Newcomer warriors, and died atop a heap of their 'bodies'.
"You will be avenged… many times over." The deep voice whispered into the night, and then turned and ran on, ferrying the body of Kenmet with him to safety.