Chapter VI: The First Strike, Part II

Quinn turned, and scrambled to retreat deeper into the trees. He only stopped when the arrow's whistle was suddenly silenced, and he felt a faint thud of something hitting the ground through his boots. Stumbling to a halt, he looked back, panting- the arrow had landed in the ground where his heels had been just moments before.

"Great, they know we're here," Fiona said, readying her lance. "What now?"

"We'll circle the fort to see if there are any breaches in their defenses," Uther ordered. "Use the trees for cover- don't advance any further than where we are now." He focused on Fiona. "Fiona, Julius, Quinn, circle around the western side. Everyone else, with me- we'll scout the eastern half."

The group split in two as instructed, but before Quinn could follow after Fiona, a hand gripped his shoulder. "Wait," Lindow said.

"Lindow?" Quinn quickly realized that at some point, Lindow had disappeared as the vanguard approached the fort. "Where have you been?"

"I just finished some scouting of my own," Lindow said bluntly. "The fort's defenses are solid- no breaches to speak of. But there is something we can use to our advantage. Just wait."

So, Quinn and Lindow waited, using the surrounding trees to hide themselves from the men in the fortress. The mercenaries circled along the fortress walls as the others moved away to keep them in sight, turning their attention away from the boy and the thief. "Okay, the way's clear," Quinn said, once the mercenaries had their attention focused elsewhere. "What now?"

"Look over there." Lindow pointed to the wall. "See that spot where the vines are thinner?"

Quinn looked, but he couldn't see the spot Lindow was talking about- the vines seemed to form a solid layer across the wall. "…I don't see it," he admitted.

"Follow me. I'll show you." Crouching low, Lindow crept across the clearing to the fort. Once he was at the base of the wall, Lindow pushed his cloak aside, revealing a half-dozen daggers sheathed in a harness on his chest, and drew one. He then started cutting away the vines in front of him.

"Lindow?" Quinn rushed over to the thief, but he ignored Quinn- in silence, Lindow cut at the vines before pulling them aside. Eventually, to Quinn's shock, Lindow revealed a metal lattice hidden beneath the vines. And beneath that…

"A door," Quinn said. He looked to Lindow in surprise. "How did you even know it was here?"

"You learn how to pick up on finer details like these in my line of work," Lindow replied, as he continued to pull the vines aside. "You kinda have to, or one day you step on a hidden pressure plate, and an axe comes down and splits your skull open."

Quinn blinked. "People… don't actually do that, do they?"

"You wouldn't believe half the things I've seen, kid." Lindow stepped back, his work finished. With the vines cleared away, Quinn could see the lattice was a gate of black iron, set into the wall, blocking a wooden door beneath.

"So, can you get it open?" Quinn asked.

"Please, this sort of thing is child's play for me." A smile on his face, Lindow sheathed his dagger and pulled two strange tools from his pocket- a pair of thin metal rods, one perfectly straight, the other with a small hook on the end. He stuck both into the gate's keyhole, and began gently poking and prodding at the mechanism within, trying to open it.

"Strange there's a door here," Quinn commented, "even if it's blocked by a gate."

"This was probably supposed to be a postern- an escape route, if the fort's main gate was breached," Lindow replied. "We should consider ourselves lucky the mercs inside overlooked it." He paused briefly as he concentrated. "By the way, Quinn, if you're facing off against an archer, your best strategy is to move laterally, side-to-side. Don't run away from an arrow, and don't try to duck under them."

Before Quinn could reply, a young woman's voice said, "Hey."

Quinn jolted, as did Lindow. Quinn whirled about, axe raised, to find himself face-to-face with… Gail.

Gail squealed and fell back. She looked up at Quinn, gasping, eyes wide. Quinn lowered his axe, and took several breaths to calm himself. "Gail," he said in a low voice. "This really isn't the time to be sneaking up on people."

Slowly, Gail climbed back onto her feet, her hand over her heart. As she took a number of deep breaths to calm herself, she noticed the door. "A door…" she said. "Was this always here?" When no one answered, she then asked, "So what's our plan?"

That… was a good question. Sure, they'd found this door, but what were they supposed to do once they were inside? There was no way to know how many mercenaries were waiting within. Certainly too many for Quinn and Lindow to fight alone- even if Gail was here, there was no way to know how she'd react to battle, and so, couldn't be relied upon.

But, further pondering was interrupted by a rustling that came to Quinn's ears- again, Quinn turned, axe ready, but once again, the source of the sound was not an enemy. Rather, it was a wolf with black fur- Noel, stalking ahead of her master. Both were close to the wall, trying to hide themselves from the mercenaries above.

"Francis," Quinn said, lowering his axe. He realized again that at some point, he'd lost track of the giant man and his companion as well. "I figured you would've gotten out of here."

"Noel is the reason you're in this situation," he replied. "And as her master, I have to take responsibility for her actions. I'll see this fight through to the end- I owe you that much, at least."

"Alright, got it!" Lindow said. He yanked at the gate, and with several sharp metallic squeals, it opened. Everyone froze, eyes turned up to the wall in case the commotion caught the mercenaries' attention… but thankfully, nobody came to investigate. Lindow then pressed his hand against the wooden door. "I'll take the lead. Everyone, wait here."

He pushed open the door and crept inside. After a moment, he called, "Okay, we're clear." Quinn and the others followed the thief into the darkened doorway. It took a moment for Quinn's eyes to adjust to the darkness within. Fortunately, no mercenaries were hiding in wait. In fact, the room they found themselves in was strikingly empty- only a few trails in the dusty floor, and a handful of rucksacks that must have belonged to the mercenaries. Lindow looked back. "Let me have a look around," he whispered. "Keep your voices down. We have the element of surprise for the moment, and I'd rather we keep it for as long as possible." He left the group, checking the doors at the edges of the room.

"So…" Gail began in a low voice. "Still waiting to hear back about that plan."

At that moment, Lindow hissed, "Hey, over here!" He was crouched in front of a door, waving them over. The group moved to his side. Lindow cracked open the door and glanced out. "This door goes outside," he said. "It looks like they haven't noticed we've gone missing yet." The thief stepped aside, "Have a look for yourself, kid." Quinn approached the door, and looked through the crack to the outside.

Across from the doorway, beneath a large stone arch, was the fortress gate- the doors were wooden, but blocked by a large, heavy bar of wood and metal. Above the gate stood the man in grey, his attention focused on something outside the walls. The man in blue from earlier stood fairly close by- about ten peds away, a tome in his hands, arm raised toward the gate as though ready to cast a spell at any second; a black-clad, black-haired girl stood next to him, a tome in her hands as well, though she was much more relaxed.

"Come on," the man in blue muttered. "Come on, come on come on…"

"You shouldn't be so tense, Yuris. It's bad for your circulation," the black-haired girl said. Her tone was eerily calm, as if completely disconnected from her circumstances.

"How can you be calm at a time like this, Manamia?" the man in blue muttered in reply.

Quinn stepped back. "Francis, Lindow. Have a look." As they looked through the crack in the door, he asked, "Do you think you can get those mages in front of us?"

Lindow nodded silently. Francis whispered in reply, "I should be able to."

"Gail, do you think you can get the guy on top of the wall from here?"

She too peered out. "…I think so," she replied. "Why?"

"I'm gonna make a run for the gate and open it for the others. I can't get these guys at a distance, so I need all of you to clear the way for me."

"Wait, what?" Gail asked. "Quinn, don't tell me that's your plan! It barely counts as a plan! It's… a rough draft, at best!"

"Well, it's best we've got on such short notice," Lindow said. "So, are you in, or what, blondie?"

Gail was quiet for a few moments, before nodding. "I'm in."

"Alright." Lindow laid his hand on the door. "Time to introduce ourselves." He tensed, and pushed the door open. "Go!"

Francis emerged from the doorway. He took only a moment to aim, before letting his arrow fly. It struck its target- the black-haired girl. She gasped in pain and surprise, and fell to her knees, looking down at the arrowhead sticking out of her chest. "Oh," she said, in an eerie calmness. "This is… bad, isn't it?" The man in blue at her side stumbled, and gasped in surprise, "Wha-" He never finished. At that moment, Lindow grabbed him from behind, clamping a hand over his mouth with one hand, before stabbing the him through the side of his head. He let out a muffled cry, before going limp almost immediately.

Lindow looked back. But although it was her cue, Gail didn't move. She simply stared, eyes wide, hands hovering above her mouth as if preparing to hold in a scream… or her last meal. "Gail!" Quinn said sharply. Quinn's word snapped her out of her stupor, and she gripped her tome. "R-Right!" She focused- the pages of her spellbook rippled, the words written on them glowing. A powerful wind began to blow from Gail's free hand, before she thrust out her arm, sending out a spiraling column of wind.

The man in grey began to turn back. But there was nothing he could have done- before he could finish turning around, the column of air struck him in the back, sending him flying over the edge of the wall and out of sight.

"You're clear, kid! Get going!" Lindow shouted.

"Right!" And Quinn rushed out into the open.

The world around Quinn vanished. The sounds of shouts and orders faded, replaced only by his own breaths. He ran as fast as he could, all his senses focused on the gate ahead of him. After what felt like an eternity and an instant all at once, he reached the gate. He put himself under the bar, the wooden beam on his shoulder, and pushed. But the bar didn't move in its catch. "Come on, come on…" he muttered, straining as he tried to lift the enormous bar. It refused to budge, but he still strained with all his might. There was no other way. He continued to push, wondering how the mercenaries had managed to move the bar in the first place, when-

"Haaagh!"

Quinn didn't look back. He simply dived to the side as far as he could. But he was slow. A burning pain flared in his left arm as he felt a sharp blade run across it. He hit the ground hard, but quickly rose to his feet, readying his axe. Standing between him and the gate was a woman in black with red hair, a sword in each hand. A small trickle of blood flowed down the blade of the sword in her left hand. "Sprightly little thing, aren'tcha?" the woman said with a broad smile.

Quinn knew he wasn't in a good situation. Even without his fresh wound, his axe was heavier than a sword, and didn't have the reach. And though there were about ten peds between them, the woman was faster than he was- if she hadn't cried out, her attack would have been fatal.

"What's wrong?" the woman asked. "Stage fright?" She tensed. "Alright… let's see how you handle this!" She charged.

There was a flash. The world went quiet. But Quinn now knew what it meant. He wouldn't have to look down at his hand to see the glow of his ring. He watched as the woman whirled, and leapt into the air with both swords raised, before bringing them down. He felt a biting cold as the blades sank into the base of his neck…

Then there was another flash, and the woman was charging at him once again.

Quinn gripped his axe tightly with both hands as the woman leapt. He was certain he could counter her attack, but he would have to time things right. He waited, until her blades began to fall… and swung at her swords with all his strength.

There was a deafening clang as Quinn's axe struck the woman's swords. The woman's eyes widened, and her mouth fell open in surprise, as the impact sent one of her swords flying right out of her hand. But more importantly, Quinn's attack changed the woman's momentum- she turned, before falling to the ground back-first.

Quinn raised his axe. He wouldn't hesitate. He couldn't hesitate. He wouldn't get another chance. He swung down at the woman, with all the strength he could muster.

The axe struck the woman in the chest. She gasped in pain, and reached up, grabbing at the blade stuck in her chest with her free hand. Then, with a shuddering breath, her hand fell back to her side, and she went limp.

"Damn you!" a man roared. Quinn looked back to see a man with black hair, different from the others, charging toward him, sword in hand. Quinn pulled, but his axe wouldn't budge. He pulled again, but again, it wouldn't move. In mere moments, the black-haired man reached him, and raised his blade high over his head.

There was no flash. No vision of the future. All Quinn could think to do was raise his arms, a final, feeble attempt to protect himself.

A sharp sound of a blade slicing the air filled Quinn's ears… followed by a loud clang.

Quinn opened his eyes. His arm… was covered in scales, black as coal, his hand replaced by a sharp talon. The man's sword trembled as he pressed down on Quinn's arm with all his might, but the blade wouldn't cut through.

"What the hell is this?" the man grunted. "What kind of… freak are you!?"

Quinn shoved the man back- he was knocked off his feet, and slid back across the ward. He didn't know where Lindow, Gail, or Francis had gone, but there was no time to look. He had to get this gate open. Where he struggled before, a single shove lifted the gate's bar with impossible ease, and another shove knocked the gate itself right off its hinges. As the dust settled, galloping hooves reached Quinn's ears. But it wasn't Uther that entered through the gate, but Fiona.

She reined in her horse to a halt next to Quinn. "Quinn, how did you- good gods! Your arm!"

"Don't worry about it," Quinn said. "Just focus on getting the rest of those mercenaries." He grabbed his axe, his newfound strength wrenching it from the woman's corpse with ease, and stepped forward, looking for the black-haired man.

But he needn't have bothered. Only the black-haired man remained, who had turned his attention to Lindow. He swung wildly at the thief- with ease, Lindow evaded the attack, before closing in. He made two quick thrusts with his dagger, one in the man's stomach, and the other in the man's throat. The black-haired man fell to his knees, his sword falling from his hand. As he bent forward, Lindow raised his dagger and stabbed the man in the back, right over the place his heart would be. The man fell without a sound. As Quinn watched, he couldn't help but notice that Lindow had been… completely expressionless as he fought the man. Almost like-

"Everyone, to me!" Uther's voice shouted.

Quinn complied, abandoning his thoughts. As he and the others gathered at the center of the fort, the scales coating his arm seemed to… withdraw into his skin, leaving behind no trace of their presence; the ring, which had been shining its brilliant blue light, went dark once more.

Once he reached Uther's side, Gwin climbed down from his saddle. "Did we get all of 'em?" he asked.

The group listened. But there was no further sounds in the fort. "I believe so," Julius replied.

Uther dismounted, before looking down at Quinn. "Quinn," he said sternly. "What you did was incredibly reckless. You should have told us you found another way into the fort- we could have coordinated a more effective assault with that information." He looked over to the broken gate. "…still, your actions allowed us to accomplish our mission. Fort Guyenne is now under our control."

"Haaah." Gail sighed, and sank to her knees. "That was… way more exhausting than I thought it would be."

"I warned you, didn't I?" Quinn said. But Quinn soon noticed something rather odd- the others were starting to relax, but Lindow remained strangely tense. "What is it, Lindow?"

The thief looked around the fort for a few moments, before replying, "…we're a body short. Where's feather boy?"

Quinn made a count of the bodies: the black-haired man, the man in blue, the black-haired girl, the red-haired woman, and outside the gate, the man in grey. But the man with the feathers in his hair was nowhere to be found.

"Heeeeaaaaagh!" A bloodthirsty cry echoed across the fort. From the left, the man with the feathers in his hair leapt down from the wall and charged, sword in hand. But then, in a single, blindingly fast motion, Francis drew an arrow, notched it, drew back his bow, and fired at the man. All at once, the man's roar was silenced by a sudden choking gasp as the arrow struck the man right in his chest, just beneath his neck. He fell without trying to catch himself, sliding across the earth a few paces before laying still.

"Ah… well there he is," Lindow said.

After a moment, Uther turned. "Right, that should be the last of them. Any injuries to report?"

"Aagh… does 'tired' count?" Gail groaned.

"Hey, Julius, can you take care of this?" Quinn asked, presenting his arm.

As Julius mended Quinn's wound, the fort was filled with the harsh squawking of a crow circling overhead. Without hesitating, Ingrid held out her arm, and the crow perched on her forearm. In a deep voice, the crow said, "Inquisitor Ingrid, I bring a report from Mother Agnes."

"What is it, Orion?" she asked.

"The weather in Bannon has taken a turn and the fleet is unable to launch. Mother Agnes can't say for certain when the secondary force will be able to depart."

The group looked at one another in silence. "I see," Ingrid eventually said after several moments.

"What are we gonna do?" Gwin asked. "The secondary force was supposed to be bringing us additional supplies, right."

Ingrid turned her gaze towards Quinn. Soon, all members of the vanguard were looking at him. "Uh," he stammered, until he remembered: he was the leader, technically. Any decisions on what to do fell to him. "…We… should stay here and hold the fort," he replied.

"Are you sure?" Gail asked, finally rising back to her feet.

"Quinn's right," Uther replied. "We brought enough provisions to last for two weeks. And, these mercenaries should have their own cache of supplies. With reinforcements on the way, standing our ground is the wisest option."

Ingrid looked down to the crow. "We will continue with our original plan and hold the fort. We'll notify you if any changes occur."

"Understood," the crow replied. But rather than taking flight, the crow simply… disappeared, wavering like smoke before dissipating completely.

For a few moments, Uther looked around, surveying the fort, and said, "Well, our first order of business is to get rid of these bodies and secure the fort. Gwin, you're with me. Julius, Fiona, see if we can get that gate back on its hinges."

"Excuse me," Francis suddenly said. "I don't mean to interrupt, but has anyone seen Noel?"

At that moment, there was the sound of barking, followed by a woman's scream.

The group looked to the source- outside the fortress's walls. Before anyone could react, Francis rushed out of the gate. "H-Hey!" Quinn stammered, before chasing after the hooded man. It wasn't until he was outside the gate that he realized his error- Noel could have been barking at a second group of mercenaries, and the vanguard's chances of surviving were much greater if they remained in the fortress.

But what he found outside the fortress… was not a second group of mercenaries.

Noel stood in the in the clearing surrounding the fort, staring intently at… a large bronze shield, almost as tall as a person, laying on the ground. Lying in the grass around the shield was a spear, and a bundle of fish tied together. Francis stood behind Noel, bow in hand, though it seemed he was unsure what to make of the sight before him.

The edge of the shield lifted slightly, and a dark face peered out, but when Noel began barking again, the shield dropped back to the ground.

Quinn stepped forward, past Noel. "Come on out."

The person hiding under the shield didn't respond. Slowly, Noel approached, sniffing around the edge of the shield.

"Nooooo!" There was a tremendous clang as whoever was under the shield burst forth, knocking it aside. Quinn had only the barest glimpse of someone in heavy armor, before they rushed toward him and wrapped their arms around him, almost knocking him off his feet. "Get it away! Kill it!" the stranger shouted.

"Aaaagh!" Quinn let out a pained groan as the woman squeezed him tightly. "Ow! Too tight… too tight!"

Noel bounded around Quinn and the woman, barking. The woman cried out and squeezed even harder. But she froze when she felt something cold touch her neck. "Let him go." Ingrid ordered.

The woman looked up, suddenly realizing she was surrounded on all sides by soldiers with their weapons drawn. Ingrid pressed her sword against the woman's neck slightly. "I won't ask you again," she said, her voice as cold as winter.

She stepped away from Quinn, arms raised. With her standing still, Quinn could see the woman clearly. The first thing he noticed was… her skin; it was dark, like Gail's. And like Gail, the woman was blonde, though the her eyes were green, in contrast to Gail's red eyes. Her armor was strange, too- she wore a breastplate, armlets, and greaves of bronze, over a deep red tunic and skirt.

"You cowards," the woman growled. "Are you afraid to face a Coean warrior in a fair fight?"

"There's no such thing as a 'fair fight' in war," Ingrid replied. Even now, her sword hovered just above the woman's neck, not wavering for even a moment. "The only rules are life, and death."

Uther stepped forward, lowering his lance slightly. But, he remained tense, ready to respond at a moment's notice if the woman tried anything. "Mercenary," he said. "I am Uther, Captain of the Guard and commander of Bannon's military forces. And as of this moment, you are now our prisoner. You will tell us everything you know about Burgundy's troop deployments."

"Bannon?" the mercenary asked, confused. "What the hell are Bannish soldiers doing out here?"

Uther crossed his arms over his breastplate. "Bannon and Burgundy are at war. You were sent here by the Burgundian military to assess the condition of this fort, were you not?"

The mercenary stared at Uther, confused. "War? What're you talking about? My company came here to hunt down a group of bandits calling themselves the Dark Wings!"

A dour expression appeared on Ingrid's face, though only for a moment, and only Quinn saw it.

Uther looked at the mercenary in silence, before shifting his gaze to Ingrid. "Take her to the fort. We'll get the truth out of her, one way or another."

Night fell soon afterwards. The vanguard quickly settled into the fort, repairing the damaged gate as best they could and clearing away the bodies of the mercenaries.

Uther had questioned the mercenary for well over an hour, but her story didn't change- her mercenary company had come to hunt a group of bandits (proved thanks to a wanted poster found in her pack), and had no idea that Bannon and Burgundy were at war. In that time, Ingrid said nothing, but continued to wear that strange, dour expression. Something was troubling her, Quinn could tell. But as he stood by the gate, looking out at the small road leading to the fort, he was unsure how to approach her about it.

"Hey, Quinn!" Quinn looked back upon hearing his name. Standing a good distance away was Gwin, out of his armor, wearing an apron around his waist. "What'cha doing hanging out by yourself all the way over there?" he called. "C'mon, food's ready!"

Quinn looked back, before replying, "I'll be along in a minute," and stepped out of the open gate.

The mercenary had been stripped of her weapons and armor, and tied to a stake outside the fortress. As he approached, he could hear the mercenary muttering to herself: "…can't even pee like this. And they have the nerve to call me uncivilized." She looked up upon hearing his footsteps. "Oh. It's you. Here to question me, too?"

"No, I…" Quinn sat down a short distance from the mercenary. Her hands may have been tied, but he wasn't about to take any chances. "I wanted to say, I'm sorry. About what happened to your company."

The mercenary eyed Quinn with suspicion. "What're you apologizing to me for?" she asked. "You're a soldier. This kind of thing is your job, isn't it?"

Quinn was quiet for a few moments. "Well, I suppose it is," he replied. "But, I don't want to kill people. Especially if I can avoid it, like with what happened today."

This time, the mercenary was quiet. But soon, she said, "Everyone who comes into this line of work knows the risks. And, I wish I could say this is the first time a company I ran with all got themselves killed." She looked away. "Still… I did like those guys, even if I wasn't with them for long."

Quinn fell silent, averting his gaze. It took several moments for him to find the resolve to continue. "Anyway," he began. "I'm here because I wanted to ask you something."

"Oh, here we go again…" the mercenary mumbled.

"Did you… did you really not know?" he asked. "About the war?"

The mercenary took a long breath. "Look," she began. "News travels slow in these parts. But putting that aside… We came here because we were hired to do a job. And that job was to bring down some bandits. Nothing more. Even if there is a war going on… unless someone's paying for our blades, then it's got nothing to do with us."

Another long silence settled over the two. Then, the mercenary added, "And before you ask, I'm not interested."

"Huh?" Quinn asked. "Not interested in what?"

The mercenary slowly turned around the stake she was tied to, until her back was to Quinn. "I know mercenaries are paid to fight, but you'll have to forgive me if I seem reluctant to work for the people who killed my comrades."

So that's what it was. She thought Quinn was trying to hire her. In truth, he hadn't considered it, but then again, he couldn't exactly fault the mercenary for her response. "…I understand." He moved closer to the stake, and reached to the ropes binding the mercenary's wrists.

"What're you-" but the mercenary's words trailed off when her binds came undone. She stood, rubbing her wrists, before she looked back at Quinn. "Okay. Now…" She turned. "What's stopping me from snapping your neck here and now?"

Quinn recognized the edge in the mercenary's voice- something that was becoming much too familiar. Even so, he forced himself to stay calm and replied, "…Only my faith that you won't."

The mercenary stepped towards Quinn. She leaned down to look him in the eye- in terms of height, she must have been just as tall as Uther. "I don't understand you," she said, eyes narrowed. "What are you after?"

He tried to keep his resolve… but Quinn stepped back. "I'm not after anything. You don't know anything about the war, and you don't want to work with us. So, there's no point in keeping you prisoner." Quinn paused for a moment. "All I ask is that you not tell anyone you met us out here."

The mercenary turned away. "…Twenty thousand. Up front."

"Huh?"

"The bounty on the Dark Wings was four thousand. I want double that, plus two thousand for each member of my company that you killed. And I want it all up-front." She looked back. "Those are my terms. If you can pay, then my lance is yours."

Quinn's felt his stomach sink. Obviously, he didn't have that much money. Even the war chest Parliament had given to the vanguard only had 15,000 marks in it, and there was no chance that Ingrid, Uther, or anyone else would approve of spending all of their funds to hire just one mercenary.

The mercenary looked away. "Judging from your silence," she began, "it seems you're not interested in in taking up my offer. If that's the case… then I suppose this is where we part ways." The mercenary took a step toward the surrounding woods… but all at once froze in place.

Confused, Quinn leaned to look past the mercenary. Noel was sitting on the ground a few steps away. She whined as she looked up at the woman.

"Hah…" the mercenary breathed.

Then all at once, Noel stood up, tail wagging, and barked at the mercenary.

"Noooooo!" Again, the mercenary rushed towards Quinn and wrapped her arms around him, almost knocking him off his feet. "It's evil! Get it away from me! Get it away!"

"Ghuh!" Even without her armor, the woman's grip was crushing, and Quinn struggled to breathe.

Noel barked again, and the mercenary's grip tightened even more. All of her previous bravado evaporated in the wolf's presence. Quinn wheezed, struggling to breathe. "N… Noel," he gasped. "Go… g'outta here."

The wolf flattened her ears, and she let out a small whine… but trotted through the gate into the fortress. "'Kay. She's gone."

Quinn felt the woman shift, as though checking the surroundings. After a moment, she let him go, and Quinn took the opportunity to take a deep breath. "It's… gone," she said in amazement. "You drove that fiend away! How did you do it!?"

"Uh…" he stammered, unsure of what to make of the mercenary's sudden shift in personality. "I'm guessing you're not a fan of wolves."

The mercenary's eyes widened and she stepped back, stiffening. "A warrior of Coea fears nothing," she said sternly. "But… I have no love for those hellhounds." She glanced to Quinn. "Tell no one of this."

With those words, an idea came to Quinn. For a moment, he was unsure whether or not he should proceed, but ultimately replied. "I won't… if you'd be willing to hear me out."

The mercenary looked at him in silence for a few moments. Then, she crossed her arms over her chest and said, "Speak, then."

"I… I can't pay you for your services right now," Quinn said slowly. "But, I work for an organization that can. If you help us take care of our business here in Burgundy, then once we get back to Bannon, they can pay whatever price you ask for."

The mercenary simply glared at Quinn silently.

"I-I know… money can't replace your comrades," he stammered. "But, after what we did, we can't just turn you loose without giving you something. And, that's the best I can give you." The mercenary continued to glare. "At least- let us take you back to a town. It wouldn't be right for us to leave you out here alone."

The mercenary kept her silence, but she did something Quinn hadn't expected; she rested a hand on her chin, and looked down, as if thinking. Even so, it was encouraging- despite the glares, she hadn't yet rejected his offer outright. Quinn quickly added, "If you come with us, I… I'll keep Noel away from you."

Her gaze snapped up. "Agreed."

Quinn blinked- he hadn't expected the mercenary to agree so readily. And before he could respond, she said, "Hey, your name was… Quinn, right? I'm Juno. If we're gonna be working together, then, we should know each other's names at least."

"Ah, right," Quinn replied reflexively. "I should let the others know what happened. Come on."

He stepped through the gate into the fortress, with Juno following. A few fires had been set around the ward, and other members of the vanguard were gathered around them, eating the meal Gwin had made. "Oh hey, you're back" Gwin said. "What kept… Wha?" He trailed off as he laid eyes on Juno.

The others turned their attention to him as well, the surprise evident on their faces. All except for Ingrid. Ingrid's hand flew to her sword, and she began drawing it from its scabbard.

"Put that away," Juno protested. "I'm not here to fight."

Ingrid froze, but didn't sheathe her sword. "Quinn, what is this?" she demanded.

Juno stepped forward before Quinn could respond. "Your friend here is quite the negotiator," she replied, motioning to Quinn. "For the time being, at least, my lance is his."

Ingrid remained motionless, sword half-drawn.

"Miss Ingrid," Quinn began, "I… hired Juno. She'll be fighting with us, at least for a little while."

Ingrid remained motionless. But this time, it was not Juno or Quinn who spoke, but Uther: "Stay your blade, Miss Inquisitor."

Ingrid turned her head, but still didn't sheathe her sword. "How can you trust this stranger so readily?"

"Mercenaries are loyal first and foremost to their coin purse," Uther said. "So long as we offer better terms than the enemy, we have nothing to fear." Juno glowered slightly, but said nothing. "And in any case…" he turned to Juno. "You're a warrior of Coea, yes?"

Juno puffed out her chest. "Indeed I am," she boasted.

Uther looked back to Ingrid. "Coeans take pride in upholding their duty and keeping their word. If she has agreed to whatever terms Quinn has provided, then we need not fear betrayal."

Ingrid was still for a few moments more… but finally sheathed her sword, and relaxed. "Very well," she said bluntly.

Uther approached the mercenary. "I must apologize for your treatment. But there are conventions of war that must be followed, you understand."

Juno crossed her arms over her chest. "Well, if you wanna apologize, you can start by giving me back my equipment…"

"Another mouth to feed," Gwin said with a sigh. "…alright. I've still got the fire going anyway."

Julius looked to Quinn, and said. "I must say Quinn, you seem to have a talent for drawing the most unusual characters to you."

Quinn scratched his head. "Well, I don't know about that…" he replied. He then noticed Ingrid, climbing up the stairs to the fortress walls. "Ah- M-Miss Ingrid! Wait!" He clambered up the stairs after her- she only stopped when she reached the top.

He came to a stop in front of her, panting. "Miss Ingrid," he said. "I told Juno that the Order could pay for her services. The Order can do that, right?"

Ingrid adjusted her cap, narrowing her eyes. "I would have preferred that you discussed this with me first, but… yes. What are her terms?"

"Uh… twenty thousand," he replied hesitantly. "And, I have to keep Noel away from her."

Ingrid removed her cap. "I see. So… you're taking in the wildman as well?"

"I-I…" Quinn stammered. It would be a lie to say he hadn't considered it- after all, they were in unfamiliar territory, and without current information, a guide would be a great help. But, the sudden hardening in Ingrid's voice led Quinn to believe that perhaps, such a plan wasn't the best idea.

"Quinn…" Ingrid said, laying a hand on his shoulder. "I believe we've discussed what troubles can arise when you place too much trust in people you don't know." Her grip tightened, becoming stronger than steel, and her eyes narrowed dangerously. Her grip was paralyzing, but it was her gaze that nearly brought Quinn to his knees. "Perhaps I should take some time to… reiterate that lesson."

Quinn folded, lowering his gaze. "I'm sorry, Miss Ingrid," he said in a low voice. "I'll tell Juno the deal's off. And, I'll ask Francis to leave."

Ingrid loosened her grip. "You don't need to go that far. After all, Mother Agnes named you my superior- I may not agree with all of your decisions, but I will support them." She turned. "That said, I ask that you think of the people already standing at your side. We can't stop to help every stray we find."

"Ow…" Quinn mumbled, rubbing his shoulder as he climbed down the fortress stairs. The fires set up earlier were still burning strongly- though the sun had set, there was still some time before the vanguard would end their day in earnest. It would be good to get a proper night's rest on solid ground, even if it was in a bedroll on the firm ground.

Quinn approached one of the fires and sat by its edge. As he sat, he noticed Francis sitting a short distance away. His quiver and arrows were laid out on the ground in front of him. His bow was there as well, without its string. The hooded man held the bowstring in his hands, inspecting it closely. After rolling it through his fingers for a few moments, he muttered, "Hmm… the string is starting to slacken. I'll need to replace it soon."

"Hey, Francis," Quinn began. "What're you up to?"

"Just doing a bit of maintenance," Francis replied.

Silence settled between the two. Quinn scratched his head, wanting to continue, but unsure how. "Uh… listen Francis, I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to drag you into our problems like this."

Francis set the bowstring aside and looked to Quinn. "I don't mind. It's been a long time since I've had company aside from Noel. It's… refreshing."

Quinn looked into the fire. "Still, it can't be easy for you."

Francis looked up. "What?"

"Well, I'm guessing you're used to hunting. But, going from shooting wild animals to shooting people, it's…" Quinn sighed. "Well it wasn't easy for me. I still have nightmares about the first time I killed someone."

"It wasn't hard," Francis replied. He lowered his gaze slightly. "Actually, it frightens me how easy it was for me."

Quinn leaned toward the hooded man, surprised. "Easy? How is it 'easy' for you?"

Francis looked down at his hands. "When… I first started living out here by myself, I didn't know how to hunt. Tracking, making my own bow and arrows… the first thing I ever brought down was a deer. It was one of the hardest thing I've ever had to do. When I took aim, my hands started shaking so badly, I didn't think I could hit my mark. But, when I thought of home, of my tormentors' faces… my hands stopped shaking." He closed his hands into fists. "So, whenever I begin to doubt myself, all I have to do is imagine those faces. Everything is… easy after that."

Quinn was silent for a moment, reflecting on what Francis had said. Until, something the hooded man had said returned to him: "Your tormentors?"

Francis looked over, eyes wide. "I…" He then quickly gathered his things and stood. "I've said enough. I'm sorry."

"Francis-" But before Quinn could say anything else, Francis hurried away. Even with the light of the fire, the enormous man dissolved into the shadows, leaving Quinn alone to ponder their conversation in silence.

The hour was very late. Most of the vanguard was asleep. But Quinn was awake. It was his time to take up the watch. So, atop the fort's walls, he looked out over the surrounding darkness, looking and listening for anything unusual. But, aside from the calls of creatures he didn't know, the world outside the fort was quiet.

"Hey, Quinn," Gail said. "Watcha up to?"

"Night watch." He looked over. "Which you're supposed to be helping me with. Go back to your post."

But Gail didn't go back. She simply sat at the edge of the wall, feet dangling over the edge, and looked out over the woods. "Quinn, do you remember when we first met?" she asked, completely ignoring his comment.

Quinn frowned, and turned away. "Can we not talk about that, Gail? It's embarrassing just to remember."

She looked back at him. "Hey, if anyone should be embarrassed, it's me. I mean, you came right up to me, licked your thumb, and rubbed it on my face because you thought I was covered in dirt!"

Quinn flinched. "I… I'd never met a Doric person before…" he replied in a small voice.

She stood up and turned to face Quinn. "I noticed. You couldn't keep your eyes off me the first few days." She leaned in close. "Let me guess, you were thinking of dragging me off to the washrooms to scrub me down? Putting your hands all over-"

"I-I didn't!" Quinn stammered, trying to put distance between himself and Gail. "I would never!"

But Gail quickly grabbed Quinn's arm, and held it close against her body. "You know, I wouldn't have minded," she said in a low, almost sultry tone. "Just as long as you were gentle."

Quinn didn't say anything. He couldn't say anything. The only sound he could force from his throat was a loud, distressed squeak.

Gail began to shudder, before letting out a long laugh. "Pfft- hahahaha!" She let go and staggered away, still laughing. Soon, she composed herself, wiping a tear from her eyes. "Ah, Quinn, you're so easy to tease. I'm glad that hasn't changed."

Quinn's reply came in the form of an incomprehensible mumble.

She leaned towards him, hands behind her back. "Aw, Quinn, you should lighten up. The only reason you get so worked up by stuff like that is because you don't hang around girls enough."

Quinn looked away. "If by 'girls' you mean girls like you, I'd rather be alone."

Gail frowned. "Quinn, that's mean." She turned. "But, if that's what you want, I guess I'll just leave you alone." She began to walk away… and stopped to look back. When she realized Quinn wasn't following her, she stormed off in a huff.

Quinn sighed as he watched Gail depart. "That girl…" he mumbled. He looked out over the wall, to the darkened forest. "How can she be so… open?" He huffed. "Or… is it me that's too closed off?"

A heavy mist hung over the fort. The sky was just beginning to turn from black to a deep blue, in the light from the coming dawn. This late, or rather, this early, it was unlikely the fort would be attacked. But, as Ingrid patrolled along the fortress's walls, she would be prepared for any possibility.

"Miss Inquisitor!"

In surprise, Ingrid turned, and looked down to see who had called her- Captain Uther. "Captain," she replied. "Good morning." She didn't have anything else to say- Uther had already finished his watch, and it was a bit too early for the vanguard to begin their daily tasks.

"I apologize for interrupting your watch," he began, "but I was hoping I could have a moment of your time." He held up a pair of wooden swords in his hand. "I'd like to cross swords with you."

Ingrid furrowed her brow. "That's… a rather unusual request. May I ask why?"

"I've always held the belief that you don't truly know someone until you've fought them. And, I've noticed something… peculiar about your swordsmanship. I wanted to observe it for myself."

For a moment, Ingrid was quiet, before she leapt down to ground level, and held out her hand. "Very well."

Uther wordlessly tossed one of the wooden swords to the inquisitor. She caught the sword easily, testing its weight for a few moments before taking a fighting stance. "Prepare yourself," she declared. "I will hold nothing back."

Uther smiled, taking his own stance. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

The fortress was soon filled with the sound of the wooden swords cutting the air, and harsh clacks as the two warriors deflected one another's attacks. True to her word, Ingrid held nothing back. But she was surprised by the captain's sword skills- his blows were hard, and fast, but he could switch to defend himself in an instant. Ingrid conceded to herself that Uther was one of the most formidable opponents she had ever faced- if they had met on opposing sides on the battlefield, she could not say with confidence that she could best him in a direct fight.

Time passed as the two duelled. Neither could say how long the duel lasted. But by the end, Uther was sweating profusely, and even Ingrid was noticeably breathing heavier than usual. Ingrid tensed, and swung low at Uther's leg. But as before, Uther blocked the blow- but he staggered back from the force of the strike, and bent over, breathing hard. "Hah… hah…" Uther wiped his brow, before standing upright, sword lowered. "Right. I think that was a fair assessment."

Ingrid rose up from her stance. "I must say, Captain, you're a fearsome opponent. I can see your position was well-earned."

"I could say the same about you, Miss Inquisitor." He held out his hand. As Ingrid tossed her sword to him, he continued, "Though, I'd like to ask a question, if I may."

"What is it?"

"I couldn't help but feel that there was an opening in your guard, yet as hard as I tried, I couldn't take advantage of it. If it wasn't for how skillfully you defended yourself, I would've believed it to be a product of poor training. Or, perhaps a bad habit you picked up."

Ingrid adjusted her cap. "You noticed," she said. "But then, you were supposed to."

"What do you mean?"

"The opening you saw in my guard was intentional," Ingrid replied. "The sword style I was trained in revolves around presenting an obvious opening to an opponent, deflecting their attempts to exploit that opening, and retaliating."

Uther furrowed his brow. "I… see. I'm not sure whether to commend your instructor or to call him a fool. And, I question why such a strange style would exist at all."

Ingrid clasped her hands behind his back, and turned away her gaze. "I learned it before joining the Order. A chapter of my life that I would rather not discuss at the moment."

"I see." Uther smiled. "Still, I must thank you for indulging me. I feel that I've come to understand you a little better, Miss Inquisitor."

Ingrid gave a small smile in return. "Likewise, Captain. It comforts me to know our lives rest in such capable hands."

Uther laughed boisterously. "Well, a woman as skilled as you hardly needs protection. But I appreciate the vote of confidence all the same."

Fiona: The Cain to Gwin's Abel. When she was first created, I'd planned for her to be much more of a bully to Gwin- her way of toughening him up. Over time though, this was changed to a natural aptitude that caused her to best not just her brother, but almost everyone, in any task- in effect, a personification of the Always Someone Better trope. She was also blonde, like the characters who inspired her (Fiona from Haunting Ground, and Fiora from Xenoblade), though I decided to make her a brunette, like her brother. Her ideal voice actor would be Michelle Ruff.
Also, as with Julius, Fiona sharing her name with a previous playable character in the Fire Emblem series was unintended.

Francis: The resident archer. Unlike a lot of other characters in the story, Francis was not directly inspired by another character- rather he borrows a number of different elements from multiple characters. That said, his concept- a man with a frightening appearance who is much kinder than he appears- was inspired by Benny from Fates, and Gonzales from The Binding Blade. Aspects of his appearance were taken from bandit characters that have appeared throughout the Fire Emblem series. Would ideally be voiced by D. C. Douglas.

Burgundy: Aurea's France analogue. Named after the historic kingdom and famous winemaking region.

Supports: Supports are a somewhat integral part of the Fire Emblem series, so I tried to emulate them as best I could for the story. With the story perspective centered mostly on Quinn, it also gives me a chance to develop characters without him around. Since in-game, Supports can happen at any time, all Supports are initially written in script format, with only the dialogue between the characters. From there, I can add in appropriate details from the current chapter if I feel I've reached a point where I should add in a Support conversation.