Valkyrie Profile:

Lenneth Novelization AU:

Disclaimer: I do not own Valkyrie Profile or any other tri-Ace properties. Please support the official release.

Chapter Eleven:

The Forest of Woe II

"Is the coast clear? Can the lads begin the supply run?" asked a man standing at the base of a wooden ladder.

He was looking up where it led, through a square gap in the ceiling. A moment later a woman poked her around over the side of the trapdoor.

"Nay, now's not a good time, Gothi Sten," she replied.

"What? Why not?" The man stared back in confusion, his brow furrowing.

"There's some commotion over in Skara town. Can't tell what, though," she replied.

"In town?" Sten asked.

"Yeah, something's stirred up the undead. They've been makin' a horrible racket for at least an hour now. Come on up and 'ave a look, Gothi," she offered.

The clergyman hiked up his brown robes and climbed the latter into the belfry. Sten's hood was down, leaving his face unhidden. He'd long since shaved his hair off after his hairline receded past a certain point. His head was surprisingly smooth for how wrinkled his broad his face was. He had sunken green eyes and a wide mouth which made for a very big grin, and an ample nose that looked almost like it'd been pressed flatter than it should be.

The woman stood by the trapdoor, waiting for Sten to come up. She was nearly thirty now, a pale brunette with hazel eyes. She wore a dark brown knee-length sleeveless tunic with legging and boots. A short sword hung from her belt. A heavy fur cape was fastened to her shoulder pads, which she wrapped herself in to keep warm. When Sten poked his head up into the small belfry, he glanced over as the woman reached out her hand to help him.

"Oh, thank you, Gro," he graciously accepted her assistance to help him up into the belfry. "These old bones don't agree with ladders and stairs the way they used to."

"Tis no trouble, Gothi," she assured him.

Sten rubbed his palms together, shivering in the cold. The cursed winter breeze wafted in through the large windows of the belfry, which lacked both shutters and glass. He had to walk around the enormous ornate bell as he shuffled over to east window to get a look outside. Sten peered through the large gap in the bars towards town, gripping one of the iron posts as he did. Skara wasn't far from the chapel which had been constructed just outside the township limits. It required but a short hike through some tall trees for the residents to get there for weekly sermons.

Sten cursed how those tall spruces obscured Skara greatly, even from the vantage-point of the chapel's bell tower. The Gothi turned his head, so his good ear was pointed in the township's direction. Indeed, it was quite loud over there at the moment. He listened for a moment as Glo took up position at the other side of the window. As Sten listened, he found it was difficult to parse out, but he could discern shouting, roaring, the clank of metal, and all manner of other sounds like Skara had become a warzone again. Then he heard something else, which made his eyes snap forward again. He stared with eyes wide in the direction of the Skara township.

"…Voices. Human voices," he uttered in astonishment. "I swear I can nearly discern words. What in the gods' name is going on over there?"

"Don't sound like the Lich Knight or the undead warriors, either," Glo said.

Sten gave her an uncertain look, before glancing toward town again.

"But who stirs up trouble now? After so many months of silence from the outside?" his daunted inquiry hung heavily in the air.

"Dunno," Gro answered. "But it might not be the best idea for Keith and the men to start a supply run right now. The whole forest will be on edge."

Sten sighed heavily.

"We're nearly out of food as it is, and the little ones are hungry," he looked at Gro grimly. "We may not have a choice."

"Alright, I'll go warn the men before they start out," she turned to leave.

Just as she'd put one foot on the top rung of the ladder, Sten jumped back from the window. The motion made Gro pause and stare at him.

"Gothi?" she asked.

Sten didn't seem to hear. He took a running step back to the window and then practically shoved his face between the bars to get a better look at something.

"Gothi Sten?" Gro repeated.

"Gro, quickly you must see this!" he called softly without turning away from whatever entranced him so.

Gro came back to the window, and froze, too. In the sky above the town, a single figure hovered in the air. They could just make out blue armor of some kind with a long, billowing white skirt and long whitish hair blowing in the wind. Then the figure glowed a pale crimson light and a giant spear three times her own size appeared in her hand.

Sten and Gro took a step back in shock and watched as the figure plunged back into Skara, shouting something they could not understand. A light shined up from the center of town, accompanied by several booms which were underscored by more horrible screams.

"What… was that?" Gro whispered.

Sten just stood, unable to speak or move for another moment.

"Hopefully…" he said. "Deliverance."

"What shall we do, Gothi?" Gro asked.

Sten considered it, and then looked towards the bell.


"Nibelung Valesti!"

The Dragon Servant choked as it and three of its kin were impaled from through the body by Lenneth's holy javelins. Several Lesser Vampires, Ghasts, and revenant warriors ran past where they lay, stepping right through their pooling blood without care or notice. In their rage, they sought to the kill Aesir witch that had intruded on their turf with her chosen warriors.

On the ground, Arngrim and Belenus covered Jelanda at the entrance of an alleyway. Lenneth landed beside them, staring at the incoming mob. She shifted her gaze to the large, scarred warrior, looking profoundly annoyed.

"Did you really haveto kick in the front gate? Truly?" she snippily asked.

Arngrim just smiled and cleaved the head from a yeti which had attacked him.

"Just being neighborly!" he said with a laugh.

Lenneth groaned and froze the first enemy to get close. Then she ducked under the dive of a Lesser Vampire, skewering the fiend through the heart as it jumped over her. The Valkyrie, Belenus, and the wielder of Dáinsleif stood back-to-back, watching each other's backs as they did battle with the beasts coming out of the woodwork all around them.

A ghast with a halberd came at Belenus, swinging diagonally. The Lassen man countered with a left high guard before parrying his enemy's spear-ax around and down, flipping both weapons over. Then he drove the hilt of his sword through the Ghast's jaw. It howled in agony as it backed off, flailing his halberd wildly to keep Belenus away. The ex-noble evaded his enemy's strokes and then swung his blade up in an arc, splitting his enemy's skull on the downswing.

Above them, Llewelyn acted as their lookout from the roof of a nearby building. He spied an undead archer with a crossbow across the street, aiming a shot at Valkyrie. Llewelyn hurriedly lined up his shot and let it fly before he was sure of his aim. The energy arrow hit the ground in front of the undead archer, sparking brightly against the frozen dirt. The pale woman looked up at him, turning her crossbow on him, forcing Llewelyn to dive flat against the rooftop. He covered his head as the bolt whistled past him.

Below, the spark of Llewelyn's missed shot caused Jelanda to notice the undead archer across the street.

"Mystic Cross!"

Before undead archer knew what was happening, she was blasted and sent crashing through the storefront behind her. Jelanda flicked her hair haughtily.

"Hmph! All too easy!" she boasted.

Then something plunked onto the ground behind her, making her scream and spin around. She was face-to-face with a dissolving undead man with a stab wound through his chest. To her right, Lenneth was turning away from saving the young mage.

"Pay attention!" the Valkyrie scolded.

"Y-yes, Lady Valkyrie," was all Jelanda could get out.

A Lesser Vampire jumped out a second story window behind the Valkyrie, positioned like a cat coming down on a mouse. At the last second, Lenneth vanished in a blur and the bestial undead landed roughly in the snow. Lenneth zipped in from behind it, stabbing it in the back, and leaving a pile of dust.

Arngrim ran up to an incoming Dragon Servant, dropping to his knees and sliding under its stroke. He swept Dáinsleif low, tripping the reptilian beast up and making it plop face-first on the ground. Arngrim pushed up with his legs, turning around and driving his blade through the back of the creature's head.

In the upper corner of his vision, Arngrim saw an incoming attack. He backpedaled from a spiked mace aimed at him. It pounded the side of the building inches from his nose. Then Arngrim was forced back off again. This time the spiked ball became stuck in the wood. As his attacker tried to pull it out, Arngrim reached out and grabbed him by the back of the neck and slammed his face into wall, dazing him. Then he drove Dáinsleif through the undead warrior, reducing him to dust.

On the roof, Llewelyn saw another archer hiding alongside a building just around a corner from the party. The undead discreetly stepped out, lining up a shot at Belenus. Llewelyn, however, already had him dead center, unleashing an aether arrow through the air and into the other archer's heart. A harsh scream egressed from the revenant before he dusted. Llewelyn punched the air, feeling pretty good about that one. Then Llewelyn heard a distant sound, which was oddly familiar to him.

"It's kinda like the roar of the ocean," he thought.

He looked past the mob they fought, peering out much farther into the city. There he saw what looked like dark specks scurrying through the distant dirt streets and over buildings and huts towards them. It was like ants on a pile of sugar. Llewelyn tried to keep the lump forming in his throat and swallowed it down as he realized what the thunderous noise was. He lowered his head, spotting the rest of the team below him.

"Valkyrie!" Llewelyn called from the roof.

Lenneth looked up and saw him pointing first down the street before gesturing everywhere madly.

"We got big trouble. The whole town's coming for us!" he called. "It's like an army!"

Within the moment, they could hear the roar of the coming wave.

Belenus let out a worried "Oh, dear."

The Lassen man almost backed away, but he held his ground.

"Jelanda," Lenneth ordered.

"On it, Lady Valkyrie," the young mage answered. "Mystic Cross!"

She fired a spread shot of the purifying energies into the crowd. As soon as the mob was slowed and cowering away from the purifying spell, Lenneth unleashed a flurry of icy shots, freezing several enemies at once.

"Valkyrie, they're closing in fast!" Llewelyn called again.

With the slack given, Lenneth levitated into the air, bringing the einherjar with her. In an instant, they were on the roof with Llewelyn, looking out on the township as many of its formerly human residents raced towards them.

"Make the call, Valkyrie," Arngrim said.

"There is nothing to gained by remaining here," Lenneth told them. "We need to a new heading."

Ding, dong, ding, dong, ding, dong.

From the west, the sound of a church bell echoed through the air. It had Lenneth's attention, and she saw the top of the bell tower some distance away.

"That is as good a sign as any," Lenneth decided.

Just as the horde was reaching them, they vanished, leaving only some stray white feathers as evidence they had ever been there.


"That should do it," Sten said.

Then he picked at his good ear, which was ringing.

"Been a while since you were this close to the bell when it was jingling, eh?" Gro teased.

"Hmm?" the older man answered. "Forgive me, my good ear is still ringing."

Gro sighed.

"In any case, I hope that wasn't a mistake on our part," she said.

Downstairs, the door to the room below Sten and Gro flew open and a group of seven stampeded in. If Glo hadn't known who they were, she might have thought they were under attack.

"Is everything alright?" someone called. "We heard the bell. What in the worlds is going on?"

The leader of the group, a particularly tall redheaded man with hazel eyes held his breath. Then they all breathed sharp relief when Sten and Gro stepped into view.

"Ay, all is well," Sten told them.

"Why then did you ring the bell, Gothi?" their tall redheaded leader asked.

"Ah, yes, that," Sten smiled and sat down by the hole, hanging one of his legs over the side.

This seemed to offend the tall man, who stared up penetratingly.

"You think drawing attention to the chapel a joking matter?" he demanded.

Sten held up a hand.

"Easy now, Keith," he aimed to calm the big man. "We had good reason."

Keith was the picture of disbelieving anger. The opposite of what Sten was hoping for.

"Good reason?" Keith's cynicism came out, unbridled. "What could possibly be a good enough reason to basically tell every abomination in the region we're still here?"

"Keith!" one of his companions barked.

The redhead glared at the man who dared chastise him, but he wasn't backing down, even if he was less than half of Keith's size.

"You are addressing a holy man, Keith," he said. "Be respectful."

"Holy man?" Keith scoffed.

He slowly turned away from the room above, glowering at the smaller man. The fellow who'd spoken up for Sten now leaned away from Keith with visible fear. Angry blazed in Keith's frowning face.

"Don't make me laugh," Keith said. "The gods have abandoned us. Sten's status as one of their Gothar is meaningless."

"Stuff it, ginger-face," Gro shouted down at him. "Gothi Sten's done more for us than any of you. If the gods' have abandoned us, then why haven't the dead things out there been able to enter the chapel, eh? The grounds are still hallowed, are they not?"

"Know your place, woman," Keith turned and grabbed the ladder angrily. He fought the urge to scale it that instant. "Or I will remind you."

"I'd see you try," Gro shot back.

Keith's eye twitched. Up in the belfry, Gro's hand slowly made its way to the hilt of her short sword, in case the big redhead did anything impulsive. The men in his group looked among themselves worriedly. Sten remained calm and raised his hands again as he spoke to try calming things down.

"Alright, everyone, let us all take a deep breath," he said evenly. "There is no reason for this to get out of hand."

"Out of hand?" Keith snapped. "The dead probably on their way here right now."

He turned and pushed his way past his men.

"Come, we have to get everyone ready for another siege," he told the others.

"We saw her," Sten said.

Keith paused in the doorway, giving the holy man a sideways look.

"Her?" Keith asked skeptically.

"There was a winged figure flying above town," Gro answered. "It could only be the Valkyrie."

Sten smiled at them all.

"The last months have been difficult, impossible even," he admitted. "But…"

He looked right at Keith.

"Oh, ye of little faith, I believe our deliverance has come," the holy man announced.

"We shall see," Keith was as skeptical as ever. "We even performed a blót, and that did not bring them to deliver us a month ago. Why now?"

"I guess we can ask her if she shows herself," Sten answered.

Keith just turned and left. Once through the door, he motioned for the other men to follow him.


"This must be it. St. Henrik's Chapel."

Lenneth stood beside a tree, her palm resting on its bark. She observed the little chapel just outside the township. It was out in the open, westward. The stone structure had a gray shingled mansard roof. Its front porch had a stone floor and thick pillars supporting the roof. Its main entrance was a rounded set of double doors made of dark, sturdy wood. Stain-glass windows depicting various gods covered the building on all sides. Its bell tower was attached to the main building in the back, standing another couple stories higher. Around the premises was an iron fence, topped with spikes.

Lenneth took a look behind her at the others. After they fled Skara, the goddess brought them back into the forest where they rested among some trees. Arngrim stood watch for anything that might come looking for them. He stood with his back to a tree, eyes slowly moving over the terrain watching for sign of movement. Belenus and Jelanda observed the chapel with Lenneth, standing on the other side of the trunk.

Above them again, Llewelyn was nestled in the branches of an oak, crouched on a decently dry branch as he tried to look over the treetops as best he could towards the township. So far, he hadn't seen anything leave its walls.

"The chapel appears to be intact, Lady Valkyrie," Belenus observed.

"Tis because it stands on holy ground, designated by Valhalla long ago," Lenneth said. "The unholy ones cannot enter there. However…"

She rested her back against the tree she stood by, watching the snow continue to fall around them.

"They can't leave, can they?" Jelanda asked.

"I am afraid not," Lenneth shook her head. "They are safe, but also prisoners in their own haven."

"Still, they've survived," Arngrim pointed out. "They might be the lead we're lookin' for."

Jelanda walked around the tree to stand next to Lenneth.

"Shall we, Lady Valkyrie?" she asked.

Lenneth nodded.

"But first, I better look my part," she said.

Like before, the change was instantaneous. Lenneth was then dressed in feminine winter clothes. A long, heavy blue winter dress, dark blue shawl with matching long hooded coat with a white scarf and brown leather boots. She pulled her braid out and let it hang down over her shoulder before flipping the hood up over her head as though it would keep the cold away.

"Come on down, kid," Arngrim called to Llewelyn.

As their archer climbed down, Lenneth regarded the group.

"Now, how shall we approach this?" she considered.

She looked at Arngrim first, and then Belenus, quickly deciding on the latter.

"Listen well, my einherjar," she addressed them.

Llewelyn hopped down and fell in with the others.

"It is forbidden for mortals to know I am around. Therefore, the survivors taking shelter here cannot know," she said. "Thus, I am appointing one of you to play leader for me."

Arngrim seemed confused. "You let Belenus, me, and Llewelyn's girl see you before I chose us."

"Only because I had no alternative," Lenneth answered.

Jelanda smiled with self-assured confidence and stepped forward.

"I accept this task, Lady Valkyrie," she said, holding a hand to her heart. "Worry not, Princess Jelanda will not fail you. It is in my blood to lead, after all. I am confident my natural charisma will see us through this public outing," she boasted.

Arngrim mimed gagging in an exaggerated manner, making Llewelyn grin, but their shared fun remained silent. Beside them, Belenus remained as stoic and quiet as ever. Without even addressing Jelanda, Lenneth turned to the Lassen noble.

"Belenus, you have had dealings with these people," she said. "Therefore, I assign you this task."

Jelanda gaped as though she'd just been slapped in the face. She stammered, opening and closing her mouth several times in attempt convey how she was the correct option.

"Bu-but, Lady Valkyrie…"

"Alright, kid, no arguing," Arngrim said.

He grabbed her by the shoulder, pulling her back while Belenus took her place at the lead. Jelanda shrugged off his grip, and stared daggers at Arngrim.

"No being rude around Valkyrie, little one," Arngrim could barely contain his delight at using her own previous chastisements against her.

Jelanda clenched her fists at her sides and turned away petulantly. Llewelyn just stood perfectly still and hoped for the moment to pass quickly. Lenneth either did not see Jelanda's barely contained tantrum or elected not to see it.

"I am grateful for your confidence in me, Lady Valkyrie," Belenus seemed unsure of this decision as he spoke. "I hardly look the role of a military leader, though."

"I require your diplomacy," she said.

"Why not just lead openly, Lady Valkyrie?" Jelanda asked.

"Crell Monferaigne is still very Patriarchal," Lenneth candidly replied. "They will accept only a man as the leader of a scouting team of humans looking for answers."

Jelanda wasn't about to accept that answer.

"Women are still considered a means to produce sons first and foremost by many in this country," Lenneth quickly added to stop an argument. "Women cannot even enter the knighthood in Crell Monferaigne."

The look Jelanda gave in response spoke volumes of unfair she thought that was. She looked to Llewelyn, who nodded.

"It is true," he said with a shrug. "N-not me, though."

"Your fiancé seemed to have no trouble telling her parents off," Jelanda countered.

"My Millia is an exception since she's the only child and heir," Llewelyn absently picked at the bark of a nearby tree. "Her parents have to listen."

"Indeed," Lenneth brought attention back to their task. "This is not Western Nordrick where warrior woman are many in places like Artolia and Villnore."

"What about princesses?" Jelanda asked, though seemed to dread the answer.

"'Tis no different. We move out, now," Lenneth then turned away and stepped out from the trees.

Jelanda said nothing more. Their Valkyrie had made her disinterest in continuing this conversation known. They followed her out, with Belenus quickly striding to take the lead.


"Gothi Sten, Keith, someone's approaching! They're coming from the east."

The two leaders of the survivors turned to the lookout, Ian. He sat on the ledge of a large multipaned square window which was directly over the front door. The young man stared at something outside quite intently.

The survivors in the sanctuary began murmured among themselves, with voices ranging from worried to hopeful. The junior members of the chapel's clergy were also nearby, tending to the stage and the altar which Sten's sermons were conducted from. They looked among themselves and threw back their hoods, revealing themselves to be much younger than Sten.

Several of the survivors ran over and gathered around the lower windows on either side of the entrance. Like the big window overhead, they were multipaned squares. They looked out, but the trees and deep snow obscured any attempts at looking out beyond the fence. Only Ian from his perch could see out past it.

"Pardon me, pardon me," Sten politely excused himself as he, his clergy, and Keith made their way through the crowd.

When the two leaders reached the front, they went straight for the ladder they'd placed for Ian to climb up.

"Can you identify them, Ian?" Sten now stood with one foot on the bottom rung of the ladder.

Keith took a discreet look at the congregation before asking.

"The undead?" Keith asked as softly as he could.

"Uncertain," Ian shook his head. "I don't think they are. Their skin isn't gray or snow white. There are only five of them."

Keith sighed in relief, running a hand from his hair. He turned away from the ladder, leaving the crowd while calling for his men. The chatter of the other survivors became louder as they began speculating what could be happening.

"Did they finally send someone to save us?"; "It could just be brigands."; "Who'd be mad enough to come all the way out here in a group of five?" were among the things uttered.

Sten and the other Gothar looked around.

"Calm yourselves," Sten urged the survivors. "Please, everyone, calm down."

However, he was being drowned out by the increasing cacophony. He turned to the junior clergymen and women.

"Please, assist in calming them down," he begged.

The Gothar split up and began attempting crowd control while Sten remained by the door. He reached into the pouch hanging from his belt and felt for the chapel keys inside it. He did not take them out, but instead turned to Ian again.

"Could you describe them, please?" Sten asked.

"Three men, two women," Ian shifted his weight up on the stone ledge, hanging one leg down over the side. "The women appear to be unarmed, but two of the men bar swords, and the third man is an archer."

"You heard him," Keith pointed behind himself while addressing his men. "Two swordsmen and an archer."

The warriors he commanded glanced past him at Sten and Ian while listening to their leader. Keith pointed to the men at the end of the lineup.

"Archers, ready your bows. You two, up to the bell tower with Gro. And you two, on the roof," he instructed. "Warriors, you're with me."

A door in one of the back corners of the chapel, beside the stage opened, and Gro walked into.

"Oi! We have company!" she called.

"We know," Keith answered. "Get the roof hatch keys. We're sending some company up with you to keep a sharp eye on them."


"The gate appears to be locked. Looks as though we will need to wait for them," Belenus stopped at the barred doors.

At the rear, Arngrim grinned.

"I could knock again," he mischievously offered.

"No," Lenneth rebuked sternly, casting a sharp eye on him. "We are not 'being neighborly' again."

Arngrim's laughter served only to annoy her further. Belenus gave Lenneth a quick glance. Only her eyes showed how utterly done she was with the Heavy Warrior's antics. Behind them, Jelanda and Llewelyn shivered at the memory of the entire town coming down on them almost in the same instant Arngrim kicked the gate down.

Lenneth and Belenus looked at the chapel, trying to spot signs of activity.

"Archers, on the roof and in the bell tower," Lenneth warned. "No aggressive movements."

"What?" Arngrim did not appreciate the looks everyone gave him.

The doors opened with an almost deliberate slowness, groaning loudly all the way. A group of seven well-armed warriors emerged, led by an exceptionally tall ginger man bearing an ax and a mace on his belt. They were accompanied by a thin, older clergyman. His hood was pulled up, obscuring his face.

"That silver hair…" Sten noted Lenneth's braid. "No human has any like it. She must be the angel we saw in the sky."

"Hail," Belenus called out to them.

"Hail," Keith and Sten answered at once.

Keith looked over this band at their doorstep with untrusting eyes. They looked human, but that didn't always mean anything. As he stared at the long-haired man with a noble appearance and air, Keith found himself already hating him.

"There's something… almost familiar about him, but where have I seen that face before?" Keith continued to scrutinize him.

Sten still had his eyes on Lenneth. More than her hair, her features were without flaw by the holy man's reckoning.

"I wonder…" Sten thought as he again recalled the figure in the sky.

To Keith's eyes, they did not like seem an organized team. The only one who looked like he belonged was the large man in the rear, wearing an enormous claymore across his back.

"You have all come a long way out to see us, strangers," Sten's manner was pleasant. "It could not have been easy to find us."

"Nay, it was not, Gothi," Belenus answered. "It has been a hard journey through this forest of woe. 'Twas your bell which drew us."

Belenus then remembered himself.

"Forgive me, we have not introduced ourselves. I am… Lugus Mogunsen, and this," he motioned to Lenneth. "Is Lady Brunhilda. An exorcist."

Lenneth curtsied as Belenus introduced the others.

"And I am Gothi Sten Asulfson, at your service," the holy man bowed his head.

"Keith Vilulf, and this here is the boys," the ginger gestured to the rank of six men behind him.

"Well met," Belenus gave a slight bow.

"Now, then, if we are finished with the pleasantries," Keith said. "What brought you here?"

"We are here to investigate the cause of this accused winter," Belenus gave the overcast sky a glance.

"Are you?" Keith stepped in close to the gate, coldly staring. "Convenient you come after it's too late to do any good."

"Cool it, tomato top," Arngrim rumbled back. "We're ain't the enemy."

"We shall see," Keith raised an angry brow to the other exceptionally large warrior.

"I believe them," Sten said.

"Well, I don…" Keith trailed off when the holy man reached through the gate for a shake, across the border of the sacred grounds.

"You foo…"

He did not act in time. Belenus returned the gesture, grabbing Sten's forearm. However, Sten suddenly clasped his hand in his own. Belenus paused in surprise, having never shaken like that before. The holy man then let go, and Belenus realized he'd put something in his palm. He looked down and saw it was a troll cross. When he looked back up, Sten was smiling, and Keith was all but doubling over in relief.

"That was certainly bold," Lenneth commented.

The clergyman shrugged modestly and produced the gate keys form his belt.

"Now, then, Keith, I think we can trust them enough to give them a bit of shelter for a spell," he said. "Shall we continue this discussion inside, travelers?"


When they entered the chapel led by Keith and Sten, the party looked around. There were around 41 civilian survivors, all elderly, or mothers and children. Including Sten, there were seven Gothar. The warriors who followed Keith numbered about twenty.

Keith's men shut the doors behind them and stood at attention, awaiting orders. The leaders turned and faced their guests.

"Welcome to our dwelling," Sten said. "Be it ever so humble."

"We thank you again," Belenus assured him.

Lenneth's eyes still traveled around the room as she drew her hood back, taking it all in. Sten was beside himself, beholding her beauty.

"She could only be one of the gods," he thought, bewitched by her. "To grace us with her presence is more than we deserve."

"Almost seventy crammed into this small chapel," Lenneth thought as she scanned the interior.

She paid no heed to curious eyes on them.

"Her hair's pretty, Mama!"

"Yes, love, don't stare. 'Tis rude."

The remaining pews which hadn't been chopped up for firewood were the only proper pieces of furniture left. They'd been pushed to the sides to make room for bedrolls which occupied the middle of the main area. Under different circumstances, Lenneth knew she would be furious over a place of worship being used for human dwelling.

The elderly occupied the long benches while the younger and healthier either sat on the stone floor or stood. The children were given blankets to sit on to keep them warm.

The einherjar could not help but feel pity as they looked on the state of the people there. They were not at the point of starvation just yet, but they were thin. All wore raggedy, semi-clean clothes in need of repairs. Every face had some hint of filth staining them. Jelanda was absolutely appalled at the sight of anyone being made to live like that. Only Lenneth and Arngrim were seemingly indifferent.

"This is how you've been living?" Jelanda's voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

"As if we have a choice," Keith crossed his arms with a resentful stare.

He stepped back and leaned against a nearby pillar.

"I've seen folk live just like this in Artolia," Arngrim muttered. "Saw 'em all the time on the streets."

Jelanda looked at him in shock. "Haven't they anyplace else, either?"

Arngrim snorted, but said nothing more.

"You can't leave?" Llewelyn asked Sten.

"Nay," an elderly woman wrapped in tattered blankets answered. "Believe us, young man. We tried. All too late, though."

She pointed southward. "It didn't take long for the traders to leave our township when this cursed winter started. We should have gone with them."

Then the elder nearly began weeping with regret. "We were just too stiff necked. By the time we tried to flee, it was too late. The animals were rabid, the ground hard to travel on, and…"

She paused, withdrawing into herself. "…And he'd come."

Then she fell silent, unwilling to say anymore. Pangs of regret began to tug at Belenus's heart.

"Some of those traders who just abandoned them were my own employees acting on my orders," Belenus realized.

This disquieting revelation cut deep, but he made himself focus on the mission. Belenus recovered quickly and glanced at Keith and Sten as he spoke:

"This 'he' Madame Elder refers to. The Lich Knight, I assume."

"How'd you know that?" Keith stepped away from the pillar, distrust in his eyes.

"There have been countless rumors and sightings," Belenus deflected, deciding that was true enough.

Keith didn't quite seem to buy the excuse, however.

"Fine, but I think it's time you strangers told us why you're really here," he paced around to the side, watching them closely. "How did any of you make this far into our territory with just five, anyway? I don't buy it."

Jelanda frowned deeply at him and turned her chin up at him haughtily.

"How rude! Ever since we've arrived, you have done nothing but accuse us without cause!" she snootily retorted. "A thousand deaths is not good enough for the likes of you!"

Lenneth whirled around, casting a severe eye on the ex-princess.

"Child, you will be silent!" she yelled in firm reprimand.

Keith scowled and punched a wooden support beam along the wall, making a thud that echoed loudly. Lenneth and Jelanda broke eye contact, staring at him in surprise. The other survivors became apprehensive. Some of the parents turned their children away in case Keith got violent.

"Child, I should teach you your place," Keith threatened, palming his fist.

"Keith!" Sten rebuked.

Jelanda gasped, appalled at the nerve of this man. Arngrim's eyes narrowed and he reached for Dáinsleif.

"Over your dead body," he said.

"My dead body?" Keith repeated and laughed at this man's nerve.

"That's right. How much fight could be in you, anyway?" Arngrim's distain was clear. "Not much of a man if you're threatening kids."

Keith's warriors took a step toward Lenneth's group.

"Everyone calm down," Belenus turned and held up his hands. "Please, this does not need to turn ugly."

"At peace, everyone, please," Sten begged as well.

"Gothi, we cannot trust them," Keith pointed at them accusingly.

"What if they're a prayer answered?" Sten quietly replied.

Keith rolled his eyes. Sten placed himself between the tall ginger and the party.

"Impertinent my young friend may be," Sten gave Keith a faintly stern look. "He does have a point, Sir Lugus. What has brought you to our humble chapel, travelers? Perhaps the king has sent you?"

"Unfortunately, no, we are not here at the behest of King Ferdinand," Belenus answered.

The entire chapel stared at them in shock.

"King Ferdinand?" Keith repeated in disbelief. "Old King Calvin has gone to Valhalla?"

Lenneth raised a brow at his assumption.

"Yes, some weeks ago," Belenus answered. "Ferdinand has had the throne for a few weeks now. The former kind fell ill not long after this cold came to your lands."

Sten shook his head sadly.

"We have been isolated ever since the it began," he confessed. "We know nothing about what has transpired outside our little haven."

Keith frowned. "In all that time, our only options were die, hole up on here, or take the Lich Knight's offer. Now then, Lugus, I think it's time you told us who your master is if not our king."

"East Lassen Trading, actually," Belenus explained.

That got a lot of murmurs from the crowd. Lenneth looked in Belenus's direction, wondering where he was going with this particular deception. Keith's eyes narrowed, looking even angrier.

"Looks as though there's no pleasing this one," Belenus mentally noted.

"East Lassen Trading?" Keith muttered.

He eyed Belenus some more, and it finally clicked where he'd seen that face.

"You," Keith pointed right at him. "You look an awful lot like Lord Belenus, who face I've seen on hundreds of those spice wagons."

"Yes, well…" Belenus uttered, and then coughed as he realized he had no excuse for that one.

"You are not the first to make that mistake," Lenneth spoke up to cover for him. "If Milord wanted, Sir Lugus could serve as his personal living decoy if a threat is made against his life."

"So why doesn't he?" Keith crossed his arms.

"Sir Lugus is a good negotiator, better serving our mutual employer as his representative," Lenneth answered with a shrug.

Keith seemed to sort of accept that answer, but he wasn't done pressing them for other reasons.

"Fine, but why does one of the traders who took their goods and left want to help us now?" Keith demanded.

"My employer still owns property in this region," Belenus answered. "The need to pay the land taxes has not ended just because his warehouses are no longer being used."

Belenus sauntered around the sanctuary with his arms crossed behind his back. "He has invested much into the upkeep of the trade route which ran through here before the unnatural cold set in."

"So, why'd he pull out if Skara means so much to his business?" one of Keith's men demanded.

"He was under the impression the situation was temporary," Belenus stared up at a stain glass window, which represented the Valkyrie, though it had the wrong colors. She was portrayed as blonde with violet armor and only three plumes in her helmet. "It was assumed Crell Monferaigne would do whatever it took to the break the curse and restore such a key route through the center of the country."

"So, what?" Keith asked uncertainly. "He's taking this matter into his own hands?"

"Correct," Lenneth answered. "Sir Lugus has been tasked with breaking this curse by our mutual employer."

"If anyone knows how it started, please do speak up," Belenus requested of the crowd. "The sooner you can put this nightmare behind you, the sooner you can rebuild."

"Even if you do not," Lenneth spoke up. "Even reporting something unusual that happened prior would also be of exponential help."

"Oi, ev'rybody knows how it happened," said a wheezy sign of a voice.

The group looked toward a skinny old man with wild white hair leaning on his cane. His eyes were shut as he took a deep breath.

"You know the cause?" Belenus asked.

"Course we do," the old man said. "It was that soldier feller from some months ago. Him 'n' his damn crystal ball."

"A crystal ball?" Llewelyn repeated, making sure he'd heard.

The old man nodded, and then pointed northward with a shaking finger. "The damn fool came through here, askin' about the Black Dream Tower."

The mention of that place had a noticeable effect on the rest of the throng. Lenneth observed everyone around the room become fearful. One man even took out his own troll cross and uttered a prayer on it.

"Course nobody could tell him nothin'," the old man shifted around. "'Cause no one's crazy enough to go there. 'Cept him."

The old man gave a scornful laugh, followed by whooping coughs.

"Black Dream Tower?" Lenneth did not find the name familiar.

"Ye never mind that," the old man waved her off. "Not right to talk 'bout the tower around a woman."

A sharp intake of breath was the only indicator Lenneth gave of her displeasure. Llewelyn tried to hide his nervous gulp. The fact he'd gone stiff as rock didn't go unnoticed by the Valkyrie, who decided to have him tell her more later.

Jelanda seemed to wind up for another outburst, but Lenneth turned and mouthed "No", accompanied by a stern finger directed at the corkscrew-haired teen. Jelanda slumped and managed to whine in silence as loudly as she did at full volume. She gestured madly at the old man, to which Lenneth responded with a tense stare and a set jaw. Jelanda sighed and gave in. As several chuckles erupted from around the room by observers of the little exchange, Jelanda turned bright red.

"What's afoot?" the old man looked around in confusion.

"Nothing, Elder," Belenus replied. "Do continue, please."

"Hmm? Oh, right. Well, after nobody'd tell 'im about the tower, he went north to 'ave a look, himself," the elder muttered. "Thought for sure the fool'd ne'er return, but he did. And he had that damn crystal ball wiv 'im."

"What was so important about this orb of his?" Arngrim wanted to get to the chase.

"It had a vampire sealed inside it," Sten answered. "It glowed with swirling colors, much like The Dragon Orb is supposed to. It was a beautiful object to behold, and he tried to sell it. We all refused, of course. The monster it contained made it too dangerous to have around."

"We forced him to leave," Keith tapped the handles of his mace and ax. "We were very persuasive."

"Yep. We hoped that was it, but two months ago he 'turned again, right 'fore the cold," the old man took over again. "This time, he jus' went back north, headin' on the main road. A day or so later, the snow came from the way he went, and none's seen 'im since."

Lenneth and Belenus's gazes met.

"I would say we have a heading," Belenus said. He regarded the old man again. "You said North, by the main road?"

"Ay."

"Hmm," Lenneth pondered. "A vampire sealed in a magic orb. Could that have really caused all this?"

It didn't seem likely. In fact, she had never heard such a story before.

"Then again, I've never seen a curse able to freeze a whole region before," she internally confessed.

"Just the five of you will hunt for the soldier and the orb? In these cursed lands?" Keith was skeptical.

"'Tis not a problem," Lenneth answered.

"How do you figure that?" Keith was almost amused.

"You forget, Lady Brunhilda is an exorcist," Belenus motioned towards her. "She is fully prepared to expel the blight on your lands."

"Oh, yes you did say that, didn't you?" Sten seemed to be impressed. "That would explain how you made it past the undead."

"Indeed," Lenneth deadpanned.


"Why did you recall me from battle? I could have taken the Valkyrie."

"Nay, dear knight. Not with that rabble you collected from the woods. Let her come to you and face you on your terms. You must prepare. Lenneth Valkyrie will find you soon enough. Defend the orb at all costs. We need only a little more time before I make the forest into my foothold upon Midgard. Do not fail me."

"I will not, my dear Queen. In Niflheim's name, I will kill the stinking witch."

"See that you do, Sir Knight."

Then the visage of the Lich Knight's master vanished from the frozen surface of the lake, leaving his own fearsome reflection. The knight turned from the ice and approached a gnarled tree. Its trunk bent at an angle in three places, giving it almost beast-like appearance since it never stood straight up at any point. It seemed almost tormented in its existence. The top of the tree had broken off, leaving the jagged edge of the trunk a gaping maw like a mouth. Its branches almost resembled many reaching arms. At the base of its trunk, the flashing orb rested in the snow.

The Lich Knight stopped, staring down at the orb, and enjoying the feeling of its corrupting waves of negative energy washing over him.

"Lenneth Valkyrie," the Lich Knight spat. "I will kill you a thousand times if need be, but I will rid myself of you."

He looked out into the forest.

"To me, dark forces. We have work to do."


"Keep the chapel locked. Do not let anyone in until the snow stops. Hole up just a little while longer. This will be over soon."

"Very well. The main road goes almost straight north, but there are farms, ranches, and smaller paths leading into the woods along the way. He could have turned aside anywhere."

Lenneth glanced both ways down the main road. The coast was clear.

"Looks good to me," Arngrim peered out from behind a tree. "But what does that sixth sense of yours' say, Valkyrie?"

"There are still dark auras everywhere, but we must be going," Lenneth's head swiveled around.

Cautiously, the party stepped onto the main road about a mile north of Skara. Llewelyn had his bow drawn but lowered as he looked and listened to every sound closely. They could still faintly hear activity from Skara.

"Looks like the undead have yet to calm down," Belenus said. "We should not linger, even at this distance."

"Agreed. Come," Lenneth started marching the path of the foolish soldier with the orb. "I know not what awaits us aside from The Lich Knight, but we must finish this. Those people cannot hold out much longer."

Arngrim stared right at Lenneth. Feeling eyes on her, the Valkyrie turned.

"Something the matter?"

"Yes," Arngrim stuck his thumbs into his belt. "How do we find the orb if soldier boy did go off the main road?"

"I have accounted for that," Lenneth assured. "We will head north until we can no longer hear the undead in Skara. As soon as we are reasonably sure we can stop, I will meditate to attempt pinpointing its location."

"You weren't able to do that before," Arngrim argued.

"We were also much farther away before," Lenneth turned away and started walking. "Llewelyn, rear guard."

"Yes, Lady Valkyrie."

As they started, Llewelyn took up his post. He frequently turned fully around, ready to fire on anything coming up behind them as he trailed the others. Arngrim and Belenus walked on either side of Jelanda in the middle. At all times, they were glancing around at each sound and movement. No chances were being taken until the echoes of Skara faded by behind them.

"So, Belenus, that was some fast talking back there," Arngrim commented. "How'd you come up with that lie so quick?"

"Oh, that," Belenus studied the tree line as he walked alongside Jelanda and the big warrior. "I drew on plans for an expedition I had been making before my… I died. I was just unable to appoint a representative to form a team for this very task."

"Why?" Jelanda asked. "You said you already found an alternate route."

Belenus quirked his head to the side as he shrugged unhappily. "Yes, but my company was bleeding oth from paying for property in Skara I was not using but could not sell whilst also paying for making new arrangements to get my wares to the East coast. New routes, new stops, new warehouses. This accursed storm's reach extends its own physical boundaries."

"Oh, that makes sense," Jelanda answered.

"So, what stopped you?" Arngrim asked.

Belenus cleared his throat conspicuously. "I told you. I died."

"If you say so," Arngrim said.

Belenus sighed, looking down at the ground sadly as he relented. "Damn your insights, Arngrim."

"There's more?" Jelanda raised her brow in confusion.

"Perhaps you should pry into his business less," Lenneth said from the front of the line.

"'Tis alright," Belenus spoke so low, they could barely hear him. "They were bound to learn more the longer we work together, I suppose. To answer your question, Jelanda, I had just finished putting the plan to ink when my wife first fell ill. With her health declining, I put everything aside to tend to her."

Pity pierced Jelanda's heart.

"None of that was your fault. You know that, right," she told the Lassen noble.

"How do you figure that?" Belenus's voice was a humorless chuckle.

"You said it, yourself. You stopped everything else to focus on her, and she still cursed you," Jelanda firmly stated. "You did your husbandly duty."

Belenus's eyes only seemed to become weighted by more grief. "My husbandly duty, huh? I suppose I should be glad someone feels that way…"

Jelanda shrank back, realizing she was not helping.

"I do not wish to speak more on this," Belenus said before anyone else could jump in.

As they fell silent, so did the world it seemed. The sounds of Skara town had faded into deathly quiet. After a moment more of not hearing the Undead of the town, Lenneth finally dared to stop.

"Keep watch. I will attempt it right here," she got on knee in the middle of the road, pushing one hand down through the snow until it was pressed against the icy earth.

As her einherjar stood in a square formation around her, Lenneth closed her eyes and meditated.

"I just hope we are near enough."

She tapped into the forest's aura and saw in her mind the murky dark smog hanging over everything. It was like the deadly carpeting smoke one sees during a volcanic eruption. The most affected areas were darker. As she searched for where the negative charge in the air became the most intense, she picked up a particularly foul aura.

"Oh, it is almost pitch black," her brow furrowed as she winced under the sheer crushing weight of the profaned atmosphere. "But it is farther North. No… it turns off the road into the trees to the Northeast. But where is it? I see… I see…A farmhouse on a lane that leads into the forest."

An image flashed in her mind. She saw the lane lead into a snow-covered meadow with a frozen lake near a tree which was a horrible, twisted thing to behold. At the base of the tree, she saw something shining with an ethereal glow. Before she could get a good look, it was gone.

Lenneth opened her eyes and stood up.

"Lady Valkyrie?" Belenus asked.

The others turned, too, awaiting orders.

"The soldier went off the main trail, as the Gothi said he might. The orb lies to our northeast," she pointed in the general direction. "I will explain what I saw on the way."


"That woman, Lady Brunhilda. She had an otherworldly look about her. Did you see her hair? It was like nothing I have ever witnessed, Keith. Not gray, but genuine silver. She must be The Valkyrie I saw in the sky earlier."

"Hmph. The gods… They can keep their favors to themselves. The only thing this will do is rile the Lich Knight. We'll never have another peaceful moment to make a supply run at this rate. I must take matters into my own hands."

The thought burned within Keith as approached the chapel backdoor, within the bottom floor of the bell tower. He picked the key from his pocket and took a look back to make sure he wasn't being watched. He fitted the key into the lock as quietly as he could and turned it. It loudly clicked, getting an internal curse from him.

After a moment of listening for footsteps but not hearing any, Keith pressed on. He slowly turned the knob and opened the door, quietly slipping outside before shutting and relocking it. Then he stood and stared at the key, considering what to do with it.

"It's not like I can ever return given what I'm about to do," so he reached up and placed it on top of the doorframe out of sight.

He walked away from the chapel, not daring to give it one last look else he lose heart. He went the short distance to the iron fence and scaled it before jumping down on the other side. Then he trudged as quickly as he could to the nearest patch of trees to get out of sight. Out of paranoia, he kept looking over his shoulder towards the bell tower, but he couldn't see if Gro had spotted him or not. He made haste, regardless. Not that it made the several yard walk seem any shorter.

After what seemed like an eternity, he crossed into the cover of leafless trees, and hunkered down, resting his hands on his knees while he caught his breath. Then he heard a distant voice behind him.

"Hey! Hey! Boss!"

Keith looked back and saw tiny figures running around the chapel fence and heading his way.

"Damn it," he forced himself to get moving again and tore through the brush with a vengeance.

He tried to run, but could only take large steps through the deep drifts until he came upon a suitably large tree.

"This looks about right," Keith jogged up to it, taking out a knife and a small tan cloth.

He unrolled the cloth across the trunk, displaying the rune he'd drawn on it. It was a variant of the Hagalaz rune, which resembles an "N". It was none other than the Hel rune. Keith quickly carved it into the tree's bark before adding the final, needed touch. He inscribed the image of a single feather over the joining line, and then a circle around the whole thing.

"With this mark, I inscribe your name," Keith whispered.

He put his knife to his palm and slit it. He winced, watching his life essence ooze from the wound. Then he reached up wiped his blood across the altered Hagalaz rune.

"With my blood, I reach out to you…"

"There he is! Boss, what are you doing?!"

"With my voice, I call you… come, O demon knight of the dark lady," Keith finished.

"By the gods, look! He's calling the Lich Knight! Stop him!"

Keith looked over and saw his own warriors racing toward him, weapons drawn. They all knew the ritual well. They'd seen so many give in and perform it over the last months. Right on cue the wind picked up and the air became heavier and fouler. Keith let out a surprised wheeze as the air was pushed from him. His warriors did the same.

"It's too late. The Lich Knight comes! Retreat!" one of them shouted.

The wind began to blow in a circle, consolidating into a funnel which picked up the snow and turned it into a mini-tornado. Keith stood in awe, having never seen the cyclone so close before. Yet he had never been less afraid of it, and what it brought.

When it stopped, the snow was blown around everywhere. Keith covered his face with his hands as he was showered in it. Amid the snow shower, he heard a horse snort, whinny, and stamp its hooves. The Lich Knight had come.

Keith peered out between his fingers and saw two bright yellow eyes glaring out from the mist and snow at him. They drew nearer and soon the outline of a man on a horse appeared. Hel's servant emerged into view fully. The knight's burning eyes were on Keith the entire time. As he beheld the terrible specter, for the first time in a life of power and control, Keith felt fear gazing upon the unhallowed thing before him. The horse stopped mere feet from Keith. The knight's stare bore holes into his soul.

"You called?" The Lich Knight asked.

Keith opened his mouth and found himself speechless, only able to utter an "Uh…"

"Do not waste my time," the Lich Knight warned. "I have other matters to attend to. If this is not worth my while, I will see to it you are thrown into the depths of Helheim, most miserable pit in all Niflheim."

That snapped Keith out of it, and he took a decisive step forward.

"My name is Keith Vilulf, and I have come to bargain!"

"Bargain, you say?" Lich Knight said with a chuckle in his voice.

He leaned over Keith on his saddle.

"It had better be good," Hel's knight threatened.

"I offer information and my loyalty in exchange for one thing, and one thing only. Uphold your end, and you will own me forever," Keith bowed before him.

"Hmm. How interesting. Very well, Mr. Vilulf, name your price," the Lich Knight said.

"You allow the remaining survivors of Skara to leave, alive," Keith answered. "That is all. Nothing more."

The Lich Knight considered it.

"Very well," the Lich Knight decided after a moment.

"I have your word?" Keith asked.

"Oh, of course," the specter promised. "'Tis a fair exchange for an advantage over the Valkyrie."

"Very well. I am ready," Keith replied.

The knight reached into a pouch on his belt and produced a small, rectangular box. He opened it and pulled out a single black plume. It'd have looked like an oversized swan's feather if not for the color. Keith felt himself grow even colder just staring at it. He'd seen it many times. The Lich Knight used it to perform his rituals, transforming folk into the undead to do his bidding.

"The black feather," Keith uttered.

"Yes, the plume of your new destiny," the Lich Knight held it high.

The ground around the horse and rider turned black as the plume began to glow a bloody red, bathing the surrounding area in its ominous glow. Something primal within Keith's mind told him to run, to flee far from the ritual being performed. He nearly gave in, but he made himself remain in place, and bowed his head, allowing himself to accept the dark blessings about to be bestowed upon him.

The Lich Knight began to chant:

"Shadow over the battlefield,

Upon this new puppet power yield!

Take thy new pawn between life and death,

Freed from decay and gifted everlasting strength!"

A circle of shadow also formed under Keith, and he was struck with red, lightning-like energy, which shocked his whole body. Keith gasped as overwhelming power flowed into him. The shock was followed by elation, and he began to laugh.

"This power… it's so… so…" Keith couldn't find the words.

"Feels good, does it not?" The Lich Knight asked.


"Hmm? Valkyrie, what is it?"

Lenneth had stopped dead, midstride, ahead of them. She turned southward, slowly. She'd felt the covenant ritual. A sense of unwanted déjà vu washed over her.

"What is this feeling?" Lenneth asked. She could not contain an instinctive shudder. "My body knows to beware it. Something wicked this way comes."


Keith looked up and smiled. "Yes, I've never felt so alive. I feel like I can…"

When he raised his hands to look at them, he discovered they had already turned stone gray.

"I've already been turned?" Keith stood and examined himself.

He reached into his mouth and felt his fangs, almost pricking his finger on his own deadly sharp canines.

"Now, the information," Hel's knight said.

Keith stopped his self-inspection, turning to his new master. "They came to St. Henrik's Chapel. They were led by a man with a noble air about him. He had long dark hair, a thin face, and a mustache. There was a silver-haired woman among them. There was no way she was normal. Our Gothi claims she can only be the Valkyrie.

"Silver hair," The Lich Knight repeated. "In a braid? Piercing blue eyes, too?"

"Yes, her braid hung almost the length of her body," Keith nodded.

The Lich Knight looked towards something Keith could not see.

"So, it was her you saw," The knight said. "And what else? There is more."

"They know about the orb. Gothi Sten told them all about the soldier who braved the Black Dream Tower," Keith answered. "They were told where to begin looking. They're on their way now."

"Well, that is unfortunate," the knight sounded put off. "Fine. Let's go, puppet. We have work to do."

"And our bargain?" Keith asked.

"Ah-ah! The blood of the Valkyrie and her companions comes first. Help me obliterate Odin's soul stealer once and for all, and your people will go free."

"Yes, Milord."

"Now then…" but the Lich Knight was interrupted by distant voices.

"There he is! Close in so we can exorcize them!"

The rider and newborn undead turned as Keith's former underlings returned with four holy men. The Gothar stood in a line with the warriors behind them. The four took out blessed necklaces from beneath their robes and then held them up.

"Ah, the Aegishjalmur," The Lich Knight recognized the sign of the Helm of Awe. "You think this will protect you?"

Keith hissed and was forced back to away, compelled by the holy repellent power the blessed symbols possessed. The Lich Knight glanced his way, sighing. With a shake of his head, he turned to the Gothar closing in on him as they began chanting to excise him.

"Unholy demon!" one of the junior Gothi shouted. "In the name of all the gods, we rebuke you, foul fiend."

"By the holy laws, return from whence you came!" another said.

Hel's emissary raised his obsidian blade into the air, which began glowing with black and red dark magic. The four Gothar were undeterred. They raised their Helm of Awe necklaces higher yet. The priests weren't the only ones refusing to bend. The knight and horse stood firm in the face of the repelling holy power.

"Feel my pain," the knight's glowing eyes flashed a brighter yellow.

The warriors with the holy men could not quite comprehend what happened next. The world darkened as a black mass stretched out through the air like a drop of ink in water. The Gothar began clutching their heads and screaming as they writhed in agony. The warriors were then also hit with the sensation of nails being driven into their faces in junction with horrid visions of souls suffering in the icy lands of Niflheim. They in turn also began crying out.

The Lich Knight shouted, "Finishing Strike! Grim Vengeance!"

Then the knight was in two places as once. One of Keith's men managed to watch and could not believe it. Somehow, the Lich Knight and his horse remained still with the holy men out of range of his sword. Yet a second, phantasmal rider identical to him charged with blinding speed, cutting all the robed clergymen down as quick as one flips a coin.

Then it was over. The reality snapped back into place, but the Gothar all lay dead. The warriors felt their heads clearing, but the sight before them caused any relief to die quickly.

"Retreat!" one of them shouted and the warriors took off as best they could in the deep snow, back towards the chapel.

"Sir Keith," The Lich Knight called to his new toy.

"Yes, Milord," the newborn undead warrior approached him.

"As a sign of your good faith. Kill them," Hel's knight pointed at Keith's former comrades.

Keith looked at his former underlings and then at the knight, reluctance in his red eyes.

"Wh-what? Our bargain clearly states they are to go free with the rest," Keith refuted.

"How can I trust you to uphold your end of our bargain if you refuse my orders?" Hel's knight demanded. "Hear me now, Sir Keith. Not a single elder, Gothi, woman or child will leave these lands alive if you defy me now."

The Lich Knight snapped his fingers and pointed again to the retreating form of Keith's underlings. Keith still looked doubtful, glancing between his new master and his friends. He lowered his head in sorrow a moment. When he looked back up, it was without anymore emotion.

"Kill them, puppet," the knight repeated.

Keith snared, taking out his mace and ax.

The Lich Knight laughed as he watched his new toy run past him and chase after his old posse. His eyes flashed in sick delight as Keith caught up to them just outside the tree-line and proceeded to mutilate them all. In a moment, they were all dead, too. The Lick Knight looked down at the dead holy men before him and drew the black plume out again.

"Shadow over the battlefield,

Upon these new puppets power yield!

Put strings to limb and mind,

Forever in my service bind!"

The dead holy men were hit with the same red lightning Keith was. Their skin turned gray, and they began to move, moaning feverishly as they did. Limply, they climbed to their feet, heads slumped to the side or forward as they stared on with empty eyes. Their arms dangling as they stood, swaying in the wind. The Lich Knight rode past them and the new zombie-like Lesser Vampires followed him out of the trees over to where Keith stood over the bloodied remains of his old comrades.

Keith turned around, dragging one man by his arm. With a remorseful look, the redhead dropped him.

"Good boy," the knight praised him as though he would a dog.

He raised the plume and repeated the process. The fallen warriors rose like the holy men did, and soon they all stood, flanking Keith as mindless drones.

"Behold your Lesser Vampire underlings, Sir Keith," the knight announced.

Keith did behold what he had done and lowered his head in shame.

"Are you satisfied, my master?" he curtly asked.

"Yes, quite," The Lich Knight's tone was mocking. "Quite satisfied. Now then, Sir Keith, we have a Valkyrie and her puppets to crush."

Keith looked on the Lich Knight with hate in his eyes.

"Yes… my master."

That didn't bother the Lich Knight even in the slightest. He enjoyed the rage of his new toy, and the mindless obedience of the others. A helpless fear unlike any Keith had ever experienced set in.

"By the gods, what have I done?" Keith thought as tears began to fall.

We will meet our quarry at Ander Meadow," the knight said.

"Yes… Master."

The Lich Knight looked up at the bell tower of the chapel, seeing straight into it at the occupants of the belfry observing everything which had passed. Then another snow cyclone formed, whisking himself and new his henchmen away.

Up in the belfry, Sten and Gro watched in horrified silence. They were unable to move, unable to look away even though the horrible fiend was gone. After an untold number of minutes passed, Gro backed away from the barred window right into the bell. She leaned against it in, dumbfoundedly staring up at the ceiling at what she bore witness to.

"How could he do it?" she asked.

Sten turned away from the window, taking wandering steps into the middle of the room. She didn't know if he had heard her, or if he was too shocked to hear.

"Why, Keith?" Sten seemed to ask the planks under his feet. "Our deliverance has come. Were you really so desperate and without hope?"

"What happens now?" Gro asked.

Sten shook his head, having no answer.

"What can we do?" she begged.

"Nothing," he answered. "There is nothing humans can do against such evil. We simply wait, hope… and pray now. The Valkyrie must succeed. Or we are doomed."