Karl and the others rode back towards the main body, pushing the horses as hard as they dared. They rode till the sun set and would have kept going, but Fritz insisted that stop. The ground was both unfamiliar and rugged. Any attempt to ride, especially at speed, would likely result in disaster; reluctantly the rest of the men agreed and set a heavy guard. There was some debate about whether or not to set a fire. It might attract the foe if they were being pursued. Others argued that the undead did not need light to find them and so a fire would do no harm and might even prove to be beneficial. In the end a fire was lit. None ate and Karl doubted many slept and if they did it was but fitfully. As soon as there was enough light to ride by they mounted up and rode, again pushing the horses as hard as could. Karl did not know how long the rode, but it was slightly past noon when they came upon the main column, it seemed that the Baron was not pushing them as hard now that they were beyond the forests and in the Border Lands proper.
A group of men walking ahead saw and hailed them. Fritz, as the group's leader, demanded to speak to the Baron at once. He and the others made their way through the column until at last they came to the Baron was riding near the center, along with Sir Fernando, Sir Felipe and Sir Franka riding near him. It must have been obvious that Fritz and the others brought news and that it was not good. The Baron pulled his horse to a halt and his children did the same. Seeing this those around them did the same and it spread until the rest of the people had come to a halt.
"What news do you bring?" The Baron demanded, keeping his voice low so that only those near could hear him. Fritz gave a brief summary of what they had seen when they had reached the town. The Baron for his part, remained silent, though disgust and anger was clear on his face when the undead were mentioned and described. His children, for their part, also looked disgusted and angered, but they did not seem to be champing at the bit to go and attack the town. After Fritz had finished with his report the Baron was silent for a moment, appearing to be deep in thought. At last he spoke again.
"Did you see who was commanding the abominations? A wizard or…something" This was directed at Karl, who had been closest to the town. He also knew that the something else was a vampire. Clearly the Baron was not thrilled by the prospect of such a creature and having to fight one and did not want to risk spreading panic among those behind them. Karl thought for a moment and then shook his head.
"That means nothing." Sir Fernando objected.
"Even if there is a vampire in the town, the sun was still up and the creature would have still been in hiding from the sun." The Baron shot a quick look at those behind the, who had started to mutter at the word 'vampire,' quieting them instantly. He then gave Sir Fernando a warning look.
"Quite." He hissed in a tone low and angry.
"Do not go saying that word, my son. Moral is delicate already and if the people think another hard battle is upon them and one against such a fell foe as one of the accursed undead, then I do not care to think what they will do." Sir Fernando looked chastised and fell silent.
"But, My Lord," Sir Felipe interjected, though he made sure to keep his voice low; "The facts remain the same.
"We are facing the possibility of facing a battle right after enduring one that we barely survived. It might be wiser to simply ignore the town avoid any conflict." Sir Franka looked as if she wished to argue, but before she could speak the Baron motioned for silence. Once he was sure that he had it he sunk in thought. He thought for some time and then turned back to Fritz.
"You are sure that you were not followed?" Fritz could merely shrug.
"I do not believe so, My Lord, but I cannot be sure. We rode back here as fast as we could and though we did not see any signs of pursuit, it is possible. Especially if magic were involved." His words seemed to both worry and pain the Baron.
"If only she were still with us." He muttered, in a voice so low that Karl guessed that the Baron was speaking more to himself than to those around him. After a moment the Baron raised his head and spoke in firm tone of voice.
"It is true that we are not yet ready for another battle, but neither can we simply assume that you were not pursued. If were attacked again we might not survive; especially if we were to be taken by surprise.
"Thus, we shall send the main body to skirt the town to the north while a force shall approach the town as close as we dare to ensure that there was indeed no pursuit." He turned to look directly at his children.
"I shall lead the force headed to the town myself and Franka shall accompany me.
"Fernando, you shall oversee the main column and Felipe shall go with you. If I do not return, you are to assume command. Do you understand?" Sir Fernando looked as if he wished to argue, but he did not and merely nodded.
It took some time to divide the people into the two groups that the Baron had demanded. The contingent that the Baron was to lead consisted of seventy men, including Fritz, Karl and the rest of the scouts. Once the group had formed up, the Baron ordered them to move out. They left the column and began riding back along the rout that the scouts had taken. As Fritz was at the head of the force along with the Baron Karl found that he was not needed and fell back until he found himself riding beside Sir Franka. They had not spoken since they had returned form the hunt for Ebbo. He thought that matters had improved between them, yet he still found it slightly awkward to speak with her and so they rode in silence for several minutes. At last she broke the silence by beginning to speak.
"So, we ride into danger again."
"It may not be so," Karl objected; "It does not sound as if the Baron wants a battle."
"He may not want it, but he expects one." Karl looked at her in surprise.
"What makes you think that? From the way he was speaking I thought the Baron was not interested in fighting the inhabitants of the town."
"Oh, he does not want to fight right now, not after all that we have just gone through, but I am sure he thinks that a battle is coming.
"Consider this. If he truly only wanted to ensure that you had not been followed, then he would not have brought so many men. There is also the fact that he sent Fernando and Felipe away. He wanted to ensure that his heir and the spare were not put in danger." This last part was said in a voice which was a mixture of sadness, envy and bitterness. Karl did not know what to say to that and so they lapsed back into silence.
They rode for some time without seeing any sign of pursuit, or anything else. Karl wondered when the Baron would be satisfied and turn back, but they continued on and they made camp about the same place that the scouts had made camp before. As he retired, he found himself beginning to suspect that the Baron did indeed want to go and fight the undead who dwelt within the town. That was insane as far as Karl was concerned. They had no way of knowing how many undead there were inside the town and he was sure that it would take more than seventy men to storm the town.
Well, he thought to himself; The followers of Myrmidia are supposed to be tacticians so I suppose he must know what he is doing. With that he went to sleep. Shortly after dawn he was awoken by the sound of the sentries calling out that there were riders approaching. His first thought that. His first thought was that the creatures which had chased him away from the town had returned and he scrambled frantically to collect his weapons and prepare to fight. As he rushed to the edge of the camp; however and saw the riders for himself, he saw that they were not.
There were three of them, mounted on what looked more like ponies than horses and they were riding boldly towards the group without any sign of fear. The Baron had emerged from his tent and despite also clearly having just been awoken had donned his armor and weapon. A moment later Sir Franka joined him, having thrown on her mail shirt and spear and shield in hand. Several of the men had nocked arrows, but the Baron waved them down before they brought their bows up to aim. As the riders drew closer Karl was able to get a better look at them.
They were all short and compact, with swarthy, tough-looking skin. They all sported dark and heavy-lidded eyes and all three had long hair and mustaches. They wore fur-lined vests and trousers and heavy boots. Wrapped around their waists were brightly colored sashes. They also had heavy fur caps on their heads. They were also well armed. They carried lances in their hands and at their sides were sabers and compound bows and arrows in quivers attached to their saddles.
"Kislevites." Someone said. The Baron nodded in agreement.
"Ungols." He said, more to himself than to the man who had spoken. A command from the Baron sent a man scrambling to get his horse, while Sir Fanka hurried to prepare her own horse, as did several other of the party. Karl was not fast enough and so he had to watch and wait as the Baron and the others rode out to speak to the three riders.
The two parties met out of earshot, at least human earshot and Karl did not want to risk being seen changing. Thus, he had little choice but to wait for the Baron and the others finished speaking and returned to the camp. Fortunately, it did not appear that the strangers were interested in violence. They and the Baron exchanged words and no one made any moves towards their weapons. One of the Ungols gestured towards where the town lay and made some gesture which suggested extreme dislike. At last the conversation came to an end and two of the riders rode of while one of them remained and rode back to the camp with the Baron. As the Baron returned to the camp he called for the leaders who had not been present to join him in his tent. As Sir Franka had broken off from the group and was clearly not invited to join in the council Karl waited till she was a little off and approached her.
"What did they want?" He asked without preamble. To Karl's slight surprise, she did not hesitate to answer.
"They are Ungols in the service of one of local…lords who rule here. He had them watching us and they saw you and the others approach the town and your subsequent flight from it. It seems that the town is ruled over by a necromancer and the Ungols's leader, a man named Vlastev Volkova, has long wanted to kill the necromancer, but lacks the strength to do so. The Baron has been invited to speak to Volkova. It is likely that he will suggest an alliance to fight the necromancer."
"Do you think that the Baron will agree to such an alliance?"
"I do not know.
"While he would no doubt wish to see the necromancer ended, both because it is a creature of evil and to remove a threat to his people. There is also the prospect of gain. If the necromancer were to be destroyed then the castle and town would be the Baron's to be claim. From what Fritz told us it would be a strong position and a good place for the people. It would greatly aid us in our mission to form these lands into a bulwark for the Empire, even more if we could forge an alliance with the man who we are going to meet." Despite her words, Karl heard some uncertainty in her words. She must have realized this, because her tone became doubtful.
"On the other hand, matters could also go very wrong.
"We do not know how many undead the necromancer has at his command; nor how powerful a caster he is and with the death of Lady von Dorchener, we have no means of countering his magic. He might also be able to use his magic to compel the people of the town to fight for him. We might lose, or we might win but have it be a pyric victory." Karl did not know what 'pyric' meant, but he did not want to show his ignorance by admitting it and so he remained silent as Sir Franca continued to speak.
"There is also the matter of the man we are meeting with.
"Many come to these lands to escape their past. For all we know the man is nothing but a bandit who will abandon us is the battle turns against us. He might even be in league with the necromancer and will turn on us and stab us in the back. Even if he is none of those things we do not know what he will want from this alliance, as I very much doubt that he is offering to help us, if that is what he is indeed doing, out of pure altruism." She lapsed into silence, deep in thought. After a while Karl spoke again.
"So, what do you think will happen?"
"We will have to wait and see. The Baron will certainly meet with the man and take his measure, the Baron can be very good at reading people. He will weigh all the factors and determine the course of action that is best for his people. Though, I will admit, that he will want to fight. He is a warrior and a man of faith and the thought of leaving a creature of such evil as the necromancer will pain him greatly. That may influence his decision." As Karl digested this they heard the command to mount up being given.
They quickly joined the rest of the company in mounting their horses and then, with the Baron and the Ungol rider at the head of the column, they set off again. They rode for what Karl guessed to be an hour or so, when they reached their destination. It looked to be an army encampment, there were a mass of tents, with men and horses moving amongst them. As they drew closer Karl saw more Ungols and others. The majority of these were tall with either blond or red hair and pale skin. They clearly had been expecting them and had seen them coming as they gave no sign of alarm and indeed many of them were mounting up and riding towards them in a casual manner. At their head was a man who was clearly their leader.
He was a handsome man, Karl guessed him to be about forty, with blond hair and mustache of the same color, both beginning to gray. He wore a hauberk of gilded chainmail and a conical helmet with a nose guard and a red plum flowing them down from the top. Under the armor he wore a thick padded red jacket with gilded vambraces. He wore thick black trousers and greaves, which were also gilded. Hanging from his saddle was a round shield with an iron boss in the center. From his broad belt in leather scabbard was a curved sword and in his right hand he held a long spear. The man rode right towards the Baron, pulling to a halt about ten feet from the Baron. He raised his spear in what was clearly a salute of some sort.
"Greetings man of the Empire." He said in perfect Reikspiel, though with a strange accent.
"I am Pavel Khohklov, Ataman of New Erengrad.
"Come, partake of my hospitality." With that he gestured towards the camp. The Baron made a bow from the waist and responded in a formal tone of voice.
"I am Baron Theoderic von Dorchener, formerly of Ostland. I greet you in turn and I thank you for your generous offer and I accept your offer of hospitality." With that the Baron and the rest of the column were escorted into the camp by Khohklov's men.
There they were provided food in the form of a thick hearty stew. There was also a strong drink being passed about that one of the men identified as vodka. It was very good and the men shared it in large quantities. Due to him being what he was the drink did not affect Karl as much as it did the other men. He made sure not to show this by laughing along to jests and antics of the men who were becoming increasingly drunk. While this had been happening the Baron and his officers were speaking with Khohklov and his lieutenants. They were speaking for more than an hour before Sir Franka emerged and came looking for him. She gave the more inebriated men a disapproving look and then motioned for Karl to walk with her. He did so while attempting to ignore the several lewd calls and offers of advice which followed them as they walked away. He was flushing slightly while she looked merely annoyed. Once they were far enough away so that they could not be overheard she turned to him fully.
"I trust that you are still sober enough to understand what I am saying to you." Karl bristled slightly at her tone, but held his tongue and merely nodded.
"Good, because what I am going to say is important, though I suppose that everyone will know it soon enough.
"The Baron has agreed to the alliance with Ataman Khohklov to attack the town that you saw. It has further been agreed that once the necromancer has been defeated the Baron shall be granted rulership of the town and its lands."
"That sounds very generous," Karl said; "What is Ataman Khohklov getting out of this alliance."
"Quite a little actually," Sir Franka replied; "More, in fact, than it first appears.
"In the first place, he will be freed of the necromancer, a foe which he cannot defeat on his own. Secondly, though he did not say it, I do not think that he has the strength to hold both his own territory and the town and its lands. Thus; his choices are either to leave it and hope that whoever takes it over will not come for him, hold it himself and stretch his forces too thin to hold anything. Or the third option, to help someone who will be both friendly and indebted to him for helping him take the town in the first place.
"So, as you can see, this is his best choice. By allying with the Baron, he disposes of an enemy and gains an ally to guard his flank." Karl nodded his understanding.
He thought of his discussion with Marx before leaving Altdorf where the wizard discussed the overarching plan with the Baron, to begin the establishment of a bulwark in these lands to guard the Empire from incursions by Orks from Badlands. While he did not think the Baron and the Ataman could halt an Ork invasion, especially to the overwhelming hoards which Old Brome had talked about in his stories, they might be able to deal with one sorcerer and he supposed that that was a start. Not long after that Karl began to hear the sounds of music. Asking around he soon learned that an alliance had been struck between the Baron and the Ataman. It seemed that the Kislevites were a lively group and saw the alliance as a cause for celebration.
Meat was roasted even more alcohol was drunk and music was played. Karl did not recognize the music, but it was loud, it was fast and the men seemed to enjoy it. A number of men began to dance and several of the men pulled Karl up to join them; he resisted at first, but at last he gave in and joined them. He did not know any of the steps of the dance and felt like a drunken ox and probably looked like one. They did not seem to mind, if anything they seemed to find it hilarious and good-natured laughter was soon directed in his direction. That helped him lose his self-consciousness and he was soon smiling and laughing along with them. It helped that many of the men were soon so drunk that they were not dancing any better. Both food and drink were plentiful, but Sir Franka let him know that the Baron had given strict orders that the men were not to overindulge as he wanted them all ready to ride and fight the next day. Karl did not think that it would affect him, but he refrained anyway.
The next day they and their new allies rode out. Well, those with horses rode out, the rest following on foot. There were about fifty men riding on short, but sturdy looking horses, the remaining men, between seventy and eighty, followed behind. While some of them had chain and plate armor, the majority did not. Instead, they made do with leather and thick furs. While they have lacked armor, none lacked weapons. The riders all had lances and either swords or daggers. As for the infantry, they all either carried either spears or axes and many of the soldiers, both mounted and dismounted, carried bows and quivers of arrows.
The Ataman sent out several scouts ahead of them and one of these periodically informed the column of any sightings of the necromancer's forces. From what he heard it sounded to Karl as if they had given up on pursuing the scouting party and had returned to the town. This actually turned out to be bad news. Sir Franka informed Karl that they had been hoping to trap some of the undead outside of the walls and destroy them. Neither the Baron nor the Ataman were thrilled with the thought of assaulting the town's walls. They halted the column for the night, posted a heavy guard and went into conference. Karl, who did not have guard duty, simply went to sleep.
He and the others were roused the next morning before sunrise and Karl and a number of the Baron's men rode out of the camp. He had no idea were they were going and it did not seem that any of the others did either. As they rode on Karl came to see that they were riding towards the town. This confused him as there were too many of them to be a scouting force and too few to assault the town. All he could do was hope that the Baron and the Ataman had a plan and that it was a good one. They reached the town several hours after the sun had risen.
People were already out in the fields when the town came into view. Karl was by now very uneasy as they drew nearer to the town and the necromancer and its forces. He was not the only who felt as such and more than a few of the men were beginning to grumble. Alec, the man in charge of the group, turned back to look at them. Though he was clearly angry with their complaining, he said nothing about it. Instead, he spoke to them in a calm tone of voice.
"We are not going to attack, we are going to lure them out.
"We will ride up, as if we are going to attack the town. Once we have their attention we will turn back, as if we just realized how large their force is. If the gods are with us then they will follow us out of the town." He gestured back to the hills.
"The others are waiting for us there. If all goes according to plan we can cut off the necromancer's creatures and destroy them outside of the walls." These words cheered the men considerably and there were no more complaints as they rode towards the town.
They halted some distance from the town, the people still working in the fields. For a moment they remained in silence, then Alec gave the signal. As one they spurred their horses forward. As they did so one of the men blew on a horn, both to ensure that they were noticed and to ensure necromancer believed that the attack was real. The men pounded across the fields towards the town. As they did so the people working the fields scattered as the riders approached, crying out as they did so, though what they were saying Karl did not know. They reached the road and headed towards the gate, already preparing to slow. Alec had told them that if they reached the gate then they would simply turn back. As they drew near; however, the gates began to open and out of the open gates came the undead.
Mounted on skeletal horses rode armored undead, more following on foot. Karl was not sure how many that there were and he did not feel inclined to attempt to count them. The others did not appear to be inclined either, as one they all turned and rode as fast as they could in the opposite direction, the enemy hard on their heels. They rode back the way that they had come, making their way towards where the rest of their allies were waiting. They could only hope that the enemy would follow them all the way there. Karl did not know how long that they had been chased before and so he could not answer the question. Thus, he found himself looking back several times to reassure himself that they were still being pursued and was half relieved and half disappointed when he saw that they still were.
He was not sure how long they rode, but at last they neared the wooded area. As they rode by Alec gave the signal and the horn sounded again. At its call the Baron, Sir Franka, the Ataman and the rest of their warriors charged from their hiding places and crashed into the flanks of the undead foot soldiers. As they did this Karl and the others turned and charged the mounted foes. Karl was not used to fighting on horseback and it took much of his attention to simply remain in the saddle and he received several glancing blows that he could have evaded or deflected if he had been on foot, so it was almost a relief when he was knocked from his horse. Scrambling quickly to his feet as the battle continued to swirl around him as the two different battling groups merged.
From where he was Karl was not sure if they were winning or not, neither did he wonder overmuch; there was nothing that he could do about it, so he focused on staying alive. He hacked, stabbed and slashed at everything which came near him. From little he could see it appeared that there was no battle line and so everyone was doing the same thing. Karl feared that it was going to come down to a question of numbers and as the necromancer, if he was here, could resurrect his dead followers it was only a matter of time until the humans were cut down. As if summoned by his thoughts, the necromancer appeared.
Mounted on a skeletal horse, a withered man wrapped in a black robe raised a staff topped with a skull. From the eyes and mouth of the skull a black mist poured out to engulf three men near him. They barely had time to scream before their flesh melted and slid off of their bones. As their bones hit the ground they rose again, as did those of the dead on both sides around them. Karl tried to force his way towards the man, but the press of bodies was too great and he could not get through to him. Fortunately, it appeared that he was not the only one who recognized the threat and were trying to deal with the threat. Karl saw the Baron trying to force his mount through the combatants and close with the sorcerer. The necromancer saw the Baron and leveled his staff at the nobleman and sent a blast of black energy towards him. Karl was certain that the man was doomed, but to his surprise the Baron raised his shield and as the energy struck it a symbol blazed in view until the energy burned itself out. All while this had been happening the Baron had been forcing his way forward. Karl saw fear in the eyes of the necromancer as the Baron closed with him, the a new figure appeared.
Cutting down all that stood in its way another undead warrior appeared. This one was different from the other undead. It was clad in ancient yet still strong-looking armor and bore a sword equally archaic. It was astride a skeletal steed. It also moved differently than the other undead. Where they moved mindlessly, merely attacking anyone from the humans who came near them, the new warrior moved and fought more like a living being; one capable of thinking and planning. Karl began trying to force his way towards the creature, even as it cut down three men. Then Sir Franka appeared before it. She had managed to remain mounted and pointed her spear at the creature, which had turned its head look at her.
"Face me wight and know the judgement of the goddess!" The wight emitted a cold, hissing sound which Karl took to be it laughing. After she spoke Sir Franka leveled her spear and spurred her horse forward. The wight likewise caused its mount to charge forward. As if by some unspoken command the combatants on both sides moved aside, leaving a clear path between the two. Indeed, it seemed that much of the fighting came to an end, as if compelled to watch the coming duel.
They came together with a crash. Sir Franka's spear shattered and a blow from the wight chopped her shield in two. Dropping both of them, Sir Franka drew her sword and turned back to face the creature. It too had wheeled about to face her again and the two charged again. Their blades crashed and Sir Franka was nearly pitched from her saddle, but managed to remain seated. They passed and again turned to face each other. As the wight spurred its mount towards her, Sir Franka changed her strategy. As the wight charged towards her Sir Franka dismounted.
She moved to stand directly in the path of the oncoming wright, her sword ready to strike. Then, just when it appeared that she would be run over, she crouched down and leapt to the sided. As she did so she swung her sword at the skeletal horse's foreleg. The blade cut through the bone, cutting the leg in two. The construct stumbled when it tried to continue running and fell, spilling its rider to the ground. Sir Franka tried to reach it and strike it before it could regain her feet, but it was too swift and its blade met hers. Both now on foot the two circled each other. The wight hunkered behind its shield while Sir Franka wielded her sword in both hands. For a moment they both looked for an opening and then, as if by mutual agreement, they lunged at each other.
Blades flashed as they thrust and cut at one another. Her blows were either deflected by the wight's blade or blocked by its shield while Sir Franka was able to dodge all of the blows which she was unable to deflect or parry. To Karl it appeared that they were evenly matched, except that they were not. The wight was undead. It did not tire whereas Sir Franka was mortal and most definitely would. Her opponent did not have to outfight her, it merely had to wait for weariness to weaken her for the killing blow. Even as Karl looked on it looked to him as she was beginning to tire and slow. Karl wanted to intervene, but he thought that he knew Sir Franka well enough to know that she would not thank him for it. Even though her opponent was an undead abomination, to her a duel was a duel and she would consider any help to be dishonorable cheating.
Looking about, his gaze fell on the necromancer. Surrounded by a number of skeletons he too was watching the battle between the champions. Karl did not like the glow that emanated from the necromancer's eyes; Karl also observed that the man's hands were moving. After a moment Karl realized what was happening. The necromancer was using his magic to help the wight. Karl supposed that he should not be surprised. Clearly the necromancer hoped that by having his champion kill Sir Franka it would break the spirit of the humans and lead to an easy victory. Trying not to draw attention to himself, Karl began to surreptitiously move towards the necromancer. Fortunately, the men paid him no mind and the skeletons appeared to also be holding back until the battle between Sir Franka and the wight came to an end. As he made his way closer to the necromancer kept an eye on the ongoing battle.
Sir Franka was continuing to fight, though it was by now clear that she was tiring and was not fighting more defensibly. The wight, by contrast, was not at all weary and, aided by the necromancer's magic, continued to hammer blow after blow down on her. Sir Franka parried the blows but did not seem able to launch any attacks of her own. At last the wight landed a blow with such force that Sir Franka lost her footing and fell to the ground, her blade flying from her hand. Seeing this the wight rushed in to finish her off. It thrust down and she barely rolled to the side in time. It raised its blade as she continued to roll. Her rolling took near the body of a dead soldier. Reaching out she snatched up the dead man's spear; as she did so she lashed out with a savage kick which connected with the wight's knee. Its knee was protected by its greave, but the blow caused it to stager back, giving her time to regain her feet, her new spear in hand. The wight quickly recovered and attacked again. Sir Franka clearly knew that she was approaching the end of her rope and would soon be unable to fight
"GODDESS! AID ME I BEG!" She cried out, half in devotion and half in desperation.
The goddess answered.
The head of the spear in her hands burst into golden flames as Sir Franka seemed to forget her weariness and lunged towards her foe. It attempted to parry the blow, but Sir Franka's strength seemed to have increased and her thrust broke through its guard to pierce its skull. As soon as the blade pierced it the skull burst into flame. The fire flowed down to encompass the entirety of the wight, which burned until it fell to the ground, little more than dust, with a final scream which seemed to echo even after the burning stopped.
"N…" The necromancer started to say, but that was as far as he got. Karl, who had been reloading his pistol after firing it earlier, aimed and emptied all three barrels into the necromancer, who fell dead even as his army crumbled around him.
Some days later Karl was enjoying a meal in the only tavern in Eagle's Fastness, the new name of the town that they had liberated from the necromancer. After his death and the destruction of the necromancer and his army the Baron and the Ataman had moved their remaining forces to the town. They found the people of the town had been milling about in a confused manner as the undead warriors who the necromancer had left behind to keep order had crumbled. Once the Baron had arrived at the town he had been quick to claim authority of the town and its surrounding lands, which it seemed included several small villages, there had been no opposition. It seemed that the people were more than relieved to have a lord who did not command an army of the dead and was given to fits of insanity. Indeed, the only violence had been when some of the townsfolk beat and killed several of their number accused of helping the necromancer before the Baron had stepped in to halt it and restore order. Karl had to admit to his relief as he watched the townsfolk burn the remains of the undead as it appeared that the necromancer had left more than half his army behind when he had marched. He supposed that the man had intended to raise more troops from slain enemies. If he had brought them all and not allowed himself to be distracted by the duel between Sir Franka and the wight, he might very well have won.
He wondered what he should do now. The Baron had brought in the rest of his people and with his alliance with the Ataman it was clear that he was firmly established, at least for now. As far as he could see he had fulfilled the duty that Marx had laid upon him. He supposed that he should return to Altdorf to make sure Olga was alright and await further orders, but he found that he did not want to. He was tired of taking orders and he was sure, or at least hopeful, that she and Faaid al-Kaba were doing well and would not welcome his intrusion. His thoughts were interrupted by a silence which had fallen over the tavern. Looking up, he saw that Sir Franka had entered the tavern. Since the story of her duel with the wight and the goddess coming to her aid had spread through the town and the people had begun to regard her with something approaching reverence. She seemed to be uncomfortable with the attention and did her best to ignore it. She came up to Karl's table and sat down without waiting for an invitation.
"Have a seat." Karl said with a slight smile as he gestured for the barmaid to bring Sir Franka a mug of ale. Sir Franka snorted, but accepted the ale.
"I bring a message from the Baron." Karl sat up straighter and focused his attention fully on her.
"He asks you to accompany me to the town of Deep Water in the south and see me safely abord a ship to Tilea. Do this and he will hold the charge laid upon you to be complete and you may return to your master."
"You are leaving?" Karl asked.
"For a time. After…what happened the Baron has deemed what happened to be a sign from Myrmidia that I have been chosen to serve her in the clergy. Therefor, I am to go to Remas; to be trained and initiated into the Order of the Eagle in the Great Temple of Myrmidia." For a moment all Karl could do was stare.
"You are going to be a priestess?" She nodded gravely.
"That is correct. The Baron intends to make his new lands a bastion of the faith. He is already making plans for construction of a temple. Once my training is completed, I shall return and minister to the people here." She paused and then aimed a mischievous smile at Karl.
"Don't worry, I will not be expecting you to come to make confessions." Karl joined in her laughter.
They left the next morning traveling to Deep Water, a town to the south which sported a large port, at least large by the standards of the Border Lands. Karl expected an attack at any time, but to his surprise, they were not. They traveled for nearly a week and all that they saw were other travelers, none of which threatened them. It was a strange experience after all that they had been through and he was not sure whether to be reassured or made uneasy by this sudden peacefulness. Sir Franka, by contrast, seemed to take it in stride, being neither upset nor set at ease. Karl noted; however, that she always wore her armor and her weapons were always within easy reach. At last they reached Deep Water.
While it had been described by some of people of Eagle's Fastness as a large place, in truth it would be, at best a medium-sized town in the Empire. The guards at the gate looked suspiciously at Sir Franka, but after a few words and the handing over of some silver they were allowed in. Fortunately, once they reached the harbor, they found that a ship was sailing for Remas that very day. After some brief negotiation with the captain, passage was secured. As the ship was sailing soon Sir Franka boarded at once. Karl found himself reluctant to say goodbye. Their relationship had improved greatly and he now considered her a friend; one he was not sure he would ever see again. At last he managed a simple:
"Farewell, gods be with you." She nodded gravely in return.
"And also with you." With that she was gone.
Not wanting to wait around to watch the ship depart, Karl headed back into the town. He soon found a tavern and ordered food. As he ate, his attention was drawn to a commotion near the back of the common room. Three men were talking animatedly to several rough-looking men. They appeared to be attempting to convince them of something, with mixed success. Looking around, Karl saw that a number of men were listening in as well. His curiosity roused; Karl went over to one of them.
"What's all that about?" He asked, motioning with his chin towards the talking men.
"Some nobs from the Empire. Heard that they're trying to hire men to go with them to the Lands of the Dead looking for treasure or some such thing." Karl thanked the man and returned to his own table, deep in thought.
He knew little of the Land of the Dead, but what he heard had intrigued him. It was said to be full of undead and, more importantly, full of treasure. He remembered when he had gone to the abandoned Dwarf hold. He had returned from there a wealthy man. True, there would be undead, but he had fought them before. The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea.
Yes, he thought; Marx can wait.
Rising he walked towards the men to see if they were still hiring.
Author's Notes: Hey everyone, sorry that it has been so long since I last updated. I hope the story makes up for this and will try to do better next time. As promised the next time will be a simple adventure. Until then bye and may Jesus bless you.