The morning could not come soon enough for Dana. Her sleep had been deep, but a little too brief for her taste. She wished she could spend a little more time away from the reality that Lydia was gone. Her body, however, had a different idea. Restored to its full vigor, it chafed at the bit, desperate to fill the stifling silence of grief with the din of action. She gave up on falling back asleep and got out of bed, careful not to wake the other residents as she made her way out of the tent.

It was still dark outside, with only a dull glow in the eastern sky to signal the coming dawn. She distractedly fixed the braided ponytail that ran along the top of her head and down her back, which had loosened in her sleep, as she stared up at the fading stars. The Hunter was still visible but just barely, the incipient day's dim light slowly eclipsing the constellation. Soon, it would be gone entirely.

She began wandering aimlessly around camp, following her feet wherever they took her. Everyone but the sentries on watch was asleep, and she embraced the silence, melding into it, a ghost enacting a soundless vigil over the living.

She had lost track of time when she spotted a campfire already lit. It was near a caravan that hadn't been there when she had last left camp. That must be the caravan that brought the barbarian and the healer, she thought. As if to confirm her suspicion, she made out the aforementioned duo as she got closer. They chatted casually as a broth cooked over the fire.

She hesitated, not sure whether she was ready for company just yet, but the smell of the broth was too enticing to ignore. Her stomach was clamoring for food. She made her presence known by shuffling her feet on purpose as she walked up behind the two. They turned, and she offered them as much of a smile as she could muster.

- "Good morning".

- "Oh, hello...Dana was it?" The young man got up. "We never got properly introduced. My name is Galen. This is Aan. Please, join us."

- "You're just in time," Aan said with a toothy grin. "Breakfast is almost ready".

- "How are you f..." Galen hesitated. "How's your leg?".

Dana picked up on his failed attempt at discretion but kept her demeanor neutral as she sat down. She didn't want to face the grief yet. There would be a time and place for that.

- "Good as new, thanks to you. It's my stomach that needs tending to now," she finished wryly.

Aan got up and proceeded to fill three bowls of the delicious-smelling concoction, offering one to each of his campfire companions.

- "Here, this will fill you right up. It's a local recipe, guaranteed to put fire in your belly."

- "What's in it?" Dana asked, eyeing her bowl suspiciously. It smelled wonderful but didn't look the part.

- "Pink boar".

She turned a quizzical look towards Galen.

- "I think he means ham," he reassured her, laughing.

Her nose overruling her eyes, she dug into the meal, and the others followed suit. They ate mostly in silence, and she took the opportunity to study her companions.

The contrast between the two was almost comical: one unapologetically confirmed every stereotype about the northmen as musclebound giants, though his bearing dispelled any notion of him being a mindless brute; he carried himself with dignity and his rugged face was friendly.

The other reminded her more of the men back home; his features held the noble beauty of Skovos' famous statues, delicately crafted effigies of Askari society's great poets, navigators, merchants, architects, orators, artists, philosophers, and even queens' "favorites", a euphemism for consorts. All depicted their subjects at the height of their youth, Dana realized; youth was highly prized in her culture.

There were no male statues of great warriors of course, only women could bear arms among the amazons. Men were more valued for their intellect, talent and beauty than for their strength. There were exceptions, men who displayed extraordinary proficiency with spear or bow, though the stories always ended with them being tamed by some amazon heroine.

Then again, there were just as many stories of Askari women sharing their bed with one of their own. The practice was widespread, especially among amazons who traveled together as mercenaries. That was how it had happened with her and Lydia. They had always been as close as sisters back on Skovos, but their relationship blossomed into love as they matured into seasoned warriors. They'd been barely eighteen when they left the isle. Now, almost a decade later, she was alone for the first time in her life.

Dana was snapped out of her reverie by a mighty clap on the back. She turned to Aan who beamed at her with a self-satisfied expression.

- "I'll take that as a compliment, shieldmaiden," he said, eyeing her emptied bowl. She had been so lost in thought that she hadn't realized how fast she had gulped down the broth. "Would you like some more?"

- "No, thank you, that did the trick." She tried to inject some cheer into her voice, but failed.

- "So, the rogues told us the old stone daises that allow instant travel had been inactive since before their order was founded. We have similar devices up north from the time of the ancients, though they also lie dormant. How did you manage to use one?"

- "I'm not sure. I stumbled upon it as I fled from Bloodraven and I acted out of desperation. As soon as I stepped on its surface it lit up. All I remember doing is picturing the waypoint I had seen here in the camp and wishing with all my being to be brought here, and somehow it worked."

- "Do you think you could do it again?"

- "I don't know. Maybe. All I was thinking of back then was saving..." her voice dropped to a whisper and faded.

She turned to Galen "I want to see Lydia. I have to see her before they put her in the ground."

The young man gave her a compassionate look. His voice was low and respectful, as if he spoke in church.

- "Of course. Akara said she would wait for you to begin the ceremony. Let's go see her now."

Aan watched the two head off towards Akara's tent. He finished his bowl in one big gulp, inspected his beard to wipe away any spillage and make sure he was presentable, and followed after them.


Lydia had been washed clean of blood and dressed in a simple white funeral garb. The acolytes carried her body to a clearing at the southern edge of camp, which served as a makeshift cemetery ever since the order's ancestral burial grounds had been overrun. A makeshift wooden casket and a humble patch of earth: that was all the rogues could afford to honor their fallen.

Akara performed the rites herself, allowing Dana a moment alone with her departed sister before she gave the signal to lower her into the ground. The sisters of the Sightless Eye began singing a dirge, part lament and part war song. It wafted around camp, its echoes filling everyone within with melancholy to match the grey skies.

When it was done, the attendants left one by one, until only Akara remained by Dana's side. The priestess placed a hand on the amazon's shoulder before walking away.

Dana didn't move. The clouds overhead crawled by indifferently but she didn't move. The world kept insolently spinning but she remained still for what seemed like an eternity.

When she finally decided to rouse herself from her inertia, she noticed out of the corner of her eye Akara and Galen standing a respectful distance away, glancing her way with concern while discussing something. She found it both endearing and irritating. She was not some abandoned child in need of care, though a part of her felt that way. She was a proud warrior of the Askari and she would wreak vengeance upon her foe.

She headed over to them, the hole she felt in her heart slowly filling with determination. When she stood before them, her back was straight and her voice was fierce.

- "Priestess, I must speak to Kashya. We can't let Bloodraven's crimes go unanswered."

Akara looked up at the taller woman with a resigned smile.

- "I'm afraid it can't be helped. I wish we didn't have to send young people like yourself into such danger, but these are desperate times. Come, our barbarian friend is already discussing the matter with Kashya."


When they joined the rogue captain, she was conspicuously alone.

- "Where's Aan?" asked Galen.

- "I've sent him to Charsi, our blacksmith, to make sure his equipment is ready for the battle ahead. He has volunteered to take on Bloodraven." She turned to Dana. "I expect you will insist on going as well. I can't stop you, but I'm afraid I can't afford to provide you with reinforcements this time. We can't leave the camp undefended; we're stretched thin enough as it is. Bloodraven has clearly lost none of her skill and cunning, and I would rather let her and her horde smash themselves against our walls than face them in the open".

- "You're right, your people have suffered enough," Galen interjected. "The three of us will reclaim your sacred burial grounds and end her before she can threaten the camp."

- "The three of us?" Dana looked quizzically at the young man.

- "I'm going with you," he stated matter-of-factly.

She scrutinized him intently before placing her hands on his shoulders.

- "Listen, I'm grateful for your help, and I realize Lydia might still be alive had we had a healer close at hand, but there is no way in all seven Hells I'm going to allow a noncombatant onto the battlefield. I forbid you to come."

- "She's right, friend Galen," Aan had returned, the freshly whetted edge of his broadaxe gleaming menacingly. "It's much too dangerous for a holy man. Stay here and await our return, we will surely have many wounds for you to tend to".

Akara chuckled lightly, while Galen simply offered his companions a warm, amused smile.

- "I'm touched by your concern, my friends, but I think you'll find I can handle myself as well as either of you. I'll be right back, I need to purchase a few things from the blacksmith".

As they watched him walk away, Kashya finally realized what had bothered her about the young man's demeanor. It was in his surefooted steps, in his disciplined gait, in the eloquence and efficiency of his movements: he had the bearing of a warrior.


Galen walked into Charsi's smithy with a practiced look of disinterest. He had often been confronted with unscrupulous traders who took advantage of his good nature, and the purse he had retrieved from his old chest was far from heavy; one did not make a lot of coin as a healer when one offered their services for free, although grateful nobles and merchants often rewarded him with silver, sometimes even gold.

The young woman tending to the forge looked honest enough, an impression that was reinforced when she noticed him and her face lit up with cheerful enthusiasm. She hurried over to him.

- "Another customer! Good day, I'm Charsi, I handle the weapons and armor of the sisterhood. How can I help you?"

Galen's carefully constructed facade melted in the sun of her beaming expression. She was a big woman, even by rogue standards, and her blacksmith's build clashed with her childlike face. He made a last-ditch effort to inquire about armor without betraying his pressing need for it.

- "Good day, Charsi, my name is Galen. I'd like to have a look at your stock, if you'll allow it."

- "I remember you! You're the healer who's been helping Akara! I'm afraid my wares are more suited to the taking of life, but I supposed even holy men need protection from time to time. Whatever strikes your fancy is yours, no charge. It's the least we can do to repay you."

- "That's...that's really kind of you, but I don't want to abuse your generosity. I require a full set of armor, and I have gold to pay."

- "Wait, two customers in a row is no coincidence. Are you accompanying Aan out on his mission? Is that why you need protective gear?"

- "That's right".

- "In that case I really can't take your coin. A friend of Aan's is a friend of mine. Pick whatever you like, I insist."

Galen thanked her profusely and began browsing through his options. Meanwhile, she peppered him with questions about the northman, whom she seemed quite taken with.

- "So what's Aan like? You're so lucky to be going out on an adventure with him!"

- "I'm afraid I just recently met him."

- "Oh it's so wonderful to meet one of my people, especially one so handsome." She realized what she had blurted out and blushed.

- "Your people?"

- "Can't you tell I have barbarian blood? Well, I can't blame you; it took me years to understand why I was so much bigger than everyone else in the order. My real parents were from the north. They belonged to the Thunder Tribe, just like Aan. They died when I was very young. I can't remember their faces anymore...but I do remember bits and pieces of the northern tongue. Though, my memory must be getting fuzzy there as well, I could've sworn Aan meant "No one"".

Galen was too busy choosing his gear to pick up on her comment. He had settled on boots with incorporated shin guards; a grey-blue gambeson over which came a knee-length leather brigandine; steel vambraces; and to top it all off, a barbute with an opening large enough to clearly show the face. Charsi helped him put it all on. She stepped away, making sure everything fit snugly, evidencing her approval with a satisfied nod.

- "So, will you be needing weapons as well?"

- "That's alright, I have my own. Thank you for everything, Charsi, you've been much too kind. I insist on making one last purchase with my own coin. I'll not have you starve on my account," he added as he grabbed a large helm that sported a pair of upwards curving spiral horns, clearly made in imitation of northern workmanship. It looked sturdy and expertly crafted, which meant that it wasn't cheap, but Galen paid its full price and more before bidding the smith goodbye and heading back to his wagon to retrieve the last pieces of his war gear.


- "I don't see why we should sneak around like thieves," Aan insisted stubbornly.

- "Because there's a whole army of undead between us and Bloodraven," Dana replied.

- "So? We go through them."

- "I don't think you appreciate just how many shambling corpses we're dealing with here, barbarian. Not to mention that engaging with them would only expose us to her arrows."

- "Then we take them on while you sneak in and finish her," Galen interjected as he walked up, holding a horned helm in his right hand.

He looked much more impressive now that he was decked in armor. Dangling on his belt was a war scepter that looked like some artifact from a bygone age; its workmanship was superior to anything Dana had seen peddled by traders, smiths and quartermasters, and she'd been around. She could even sense a trace of magic from it, which meant it was enchanted.

In contrast, the heraldic shield on his left arm looked sturdy but otherwise unremarkable. That was until the young man turned to Aan and she got a look at the emblem on the shield: a white sea-eagle claw and lightning bolt on a sky-blue field. She had seen that symbol somewhere before.

- "Here, try this on," Galen handed Aan the horned helm. "Charsi would never forgive me if I let anything happen to that handsome face of yours."

The northman laughed and tried on the gift, which turned out to fit him nicely.

- "How do I look?" he asked, miming a vainglorious pose.

- "Absolutely barbaric," replied Galen with a grin.

Realization struck Dana like a bolt from the blue, which was ironic considering that was exactly what the shield's heraldry depicted. She had finally recognized it: it was the coat-of-arms of the Knights of Westmarch. Her gentle healer was a member of one of the most celebrated military orders in Sanctuary.

- "You're...a paladin?" she had meant for it to sound like an affirmation, but it came out as more of a question.

- "Is that so hard to believe?"

- "I just imagined a paladin would be..."

- "Bigger? Graver? Righteous-er?"

- "Older," she finished. "You're in the spring of your life".

- "Yes, I am; the twenty second to be exact. I've already had my baptism of steel. I fought alongside my countrymen in the war against the Mad King, and I've faced my share of demons and undead since."

The amazon sized him up with newfound respect.

- "Very well sir knight," she conceded with a smirk, "what plan of attack do you suggest?"

- "The northman and I couldn't be stealthy to save our lives. We're more liable to rouse the dead, which is just as well because that's the plan: we go in loud and keep the zombies busy while you take out their leader. I know how important it must be for you to strike the killing blow, and I would not deny you your revenge. That is, if you feel up to the task."

- "She's as good as dead. The question is, are you two certain you can handle a horde of ghouls on your own?"

- "No matter their number, dogs cannot bring down a bear," Aan boasted.

- "What he said," Galen agreed.

- "Very well then, let's get going. Bloodraven has an audience with my arrows and I'd hate to keep her waiting."

As they walked away, Kashya spoke up.

- "An amazon, a barbarian and a paladin. Against my better judgment I'm beginning to feel optimistic."

Akara just stared ahead, as if attempting to peer through the fog of the future with the Sightless Eye.