Traditions

The next morning Nerislynn woke to his friend, Zankul, shaking him. “Nerislynn, you need to get up. There’s been an attack on the north end of town. Pysura and P’lar were there! They were fighting the undead! I saw it with my own eyes. P’lar was casting spells causing the specters to fight each other. There was a third Necromancer. We don’t know who it was, but he was attacking. Get up! There may be more!”

“What are you rambling about?”

“Just get dressed and follow me.”

Nerislynn and Zankul ran to see the results. Pysura explained what happened when they arrived. “P’lar and I were on our way to Seat’s hut to get some things. Someone, not very powerful raised a handful of specters and sent them for us. They weren’t too hard to deal with, for someone who had training in that area. P’lar was strong enough to deal with some. My training wasn’t in that area and I had to fight by hand. After the specters fell he just ran back into the woods.”

“You saw this old man?” Nerislynn asked. He felt that an attack on the two Necromancers of town was a little convenient. If Zankul didn’t see the attacker, he would have to question the validity of the story.

“I didn’t see the other man run, but her story fits what I did see. I came after you when I noticed what was going on.” His response was good enough for Nerislynn.

“So the only question is why, is there anyway to find out who it was?” he asked.

“Only if we catch him again, but from the feel of it, he’s either not very strong or recognized my control undead ability and decided we were okay. Some times when one of us dies, other necromancers come protect the lands of the fallen until the appropriate people can gather the belongings and fulfill last wishes.”

“Like an honor guard, why not question the approaches?”

“Most of the people necromancers guard from in this case would simply jump one of us. Its part of the reason we’re looked on so poorly, we’re paranoid. He wouldn’t raise enough to kill anyone, just scare them off.”

“I would think that one banshee would be enough to kill, much less more. How can you validate the idea he intended no harm.”

“He raised allips, not banshees. Specters can be non-lethal, one banshee this close to town would have killed every male in the area, instantly. I explain it by knowing my undead.”

“Hey, I’m just used to turning and killing the things. I’m not an expert.” Nerislynn defended himself quickly from P’lar’s verbal onslaught. “I didn’t mean to rattle a saber.”

“I’m sorry as well. I should have explained that in a better tone. I sometimes get annoyed with people who don’t know our field of expertise as well as I think someone should. We need to get back to Silverkin’s hut. I can pay respects and anyone standing guard should leave, also he might have left something to help us find out what’s going on.”

“You do that boy; I’ll take the one man tribunal here back to town. He needs to report in anyway. Make sure the man is put to rest appropriately. I’m not sure he’s a soul we want running around in a tortured state.” Zankul replied. With that they parted, the Necromancers headed for their former master’s home and the Paladins headed for the town hall. The next messenger to Tyrann would leave in just over an hour. They needed to report Nerislynn’s survival.

“Interesting start to the day, don’t you think?” Nerislynn asked his companion.

“Indeed, especially the rather creepy tidbit about necromancer funerals, I wouldn’t think an honor guard would need to do any real guarding anymore.”

“Well, I can see why, most Necromancers die where they are shunned, and even hated. It makes since that they would have to deal with people who caused trouble. They rarely get to do anything with the body, since most die in a fight and are burned by the survivors. So they take care of the property instead.”

“How would they know he had passed so quickly? The best information networks of Paladins would never get news out that fast.” Zankul wondered aloud.

“Maybe their ability to hear the dead has something to do with it. I think it’s more just better messengers. They can use darkness to cover how many are servants of them.” Nerislynn suggested.

Zankul shrugged and smiled. “Lower servants wouldn’t even have to know they were doing it. Gossip, announcements boasted all over the kingdom. I usually hear about things before the other Paladins get word to me, because not everyone I talk to is as valiant as you. Don’t you hear things from time to time in the bar before an announcement is made?”

“All the time, it just didn’t occur to me that someone would need to use that as a way to gather information of that much importance. I don’t bother to pay much attention to anything except people’s personal matters. I wouldn't think you would care now that you aren't really expecting to be called on.”

“We could all be called on soon. If things are half as bad as we have speculated, we need every willing man to fight whatever may be coming our way. Dayville may need Tigersoul the Valiant again. Well there’s the Rest I should get ready to open. I’ll keep an open ear from now on. You need to report in, and don’t report everything that happened. You may need to keep some of the recent events out of loop for a while. We don’t know what’s going on, or who we can trust.” Zankul Tigersoul entered his established bar.

Nerislynn waved, and pondered what both of them had to say. He knew that things were going the wrong way. He also knew that his friend and mentor was right. He had to be careful on what to and what not to say. Tradition demanded he tell everything, but the morning proved that not all traditions should be followed to an extreme. He considered what he would say in his verbal report. His written one could be delayed. He could not lie, but he could keep a secret.

He was in front of the armory and station now. He entered and announced his presence to the scribe at the door.

***

“So, what are we looking for, I’ve got most of his personal things here. His journal’s at your place already. Do you expect to find something else?” Pysura quizzed P’lar, she was confused why they were being far more thorough than normal.

“Well, we don’t want to miss anything, of course. To be honest though, I’m hoping to find something to prove he wasn’t involved in the local attacks.” P’lar replied.

“I’m not sure what we could find that wouldn’t be mentioned in his journal. The place is protected from thieves. We could pay attention when we go through it anyway.”

P’lar shook his head, “He told me that one should always keep things of true importance hidden, and never write them down. Even the simple spells on our journals can be broken after we die. If something needed to be hidden from the enemy, it couldn’t be in the journal. If I could just remember where he said he kept things like that…” P’lar continued to rummage through the few remaining piles of stuff.

Then it hit Pysura, “Wait, he was playing with this particular board in the wall some times when I would arrive. I never asked more than if everything was alright. He said I would know about things in due time.”

“It’s past due, where is the board?”

“Over here, look for a way to get it out, it may be a packing hole.” Pysura said as P’lar found the board was loose, he managed to get it out, inside was a small journal, similar to Silverkin’s other journal, and a small pouch.

“I think we found what we are looking for, pack everything else up; we’ll get back to my place and start looking through his things. If there’s a way to prove Seat’s innocence we will find it.” he waved the journal at Pysura.

“Right behind you.”

***

“Nerislynn, oh gracious, they said you had fallen. Here I’ll take you to the captain. He will want to hear your report. Follow me, please.” The scribe went on. Apparently he was easily excited by the arrival of someone he expected was long dead.

They walked down a hall that Nerislynn was familiar with, he had walked down this hall many times to report about things happening in town or near by. He however noticed some of the portraits missing, including his friend’s Tigersoul, he decided he would ask about this later. He had a report to make, and he hadn’t quite decided how to not say that he had spent most of the last two days with a necromancer. They rounded a corner, and the scribe opened the door of the captain.

“What is it scribe, I’m talking with…-ah Nerislynn, I see you’re alive, and seem well patched up. Are you here to make your report?”

“Yes, sir I will be outside when you’re no longer busy.” Nerislynn moved to exit, and was stopped. “That won’t be necessary, this messenger is here from the king, since he says he has news of you and the others who’ve returned from battle you might as well hear it. Continue messenger.”

“Thank you; I have word from the king. He says to tell you there is evidence that there were no survivors of the attack. He states there is proof that they are undead spies of one of Silverskin’s apprentices.”

“Wha—“

“That’s absolutely preposterous. I am no undead minion. You know captain that one cannot lie in these walls. There words will be changed to the truth. I am Nerislynn Lumanani, Palidin of Sotyn. I can not be undead.” Nerislynn went with what he knew was true to defend himself.

“Fiend, the king knows that the spells that prevent lies from being told can be overpowered. The king states you are a spy for the Necromancers. The king asks that all of the possible spies be rounded up and sent with me for interrogation and destruction. I must leave soon. You must follow the order of the king.”

“Nerislynn, or whatever you are I must place you…” the captain didn’t finish the statement. Nerislynn ran for the door, opened it, tripped over the guard, and used his lack of armor to out run the oncoming Paladins. He could not hurt them, but he had to get out.

“You see, he ran. Can he truly be a Paladin if he ran?” the messenger said. “Round them up, there are several caged wagons in your stable. I am to leave in the morning to report back to the king. I also require the arrest of P’lar, and Pysura Vespern. The king states that they are the ones responsible.”

“As the king wishes.” The captain responded without even a sign of doubt or second thought.

The remaining paladins were ordered to gather the accused. They headed out while Nerislynn headed for the one place he could get help, the Eve’s Rest.

***

The door swung open. Zankul Tigersoul looked up. “Ah Neris, you’re early. I was getting ready to through a party celebrating your return.”

“Don’t celebrate yet. The king wants me dead.”

“Wha—“

“I’ll explain in a minute, just help me get some things done. I need a place to hide for the next few hours, get a hold of our new friends. They are probably wanted too. Also, all of the survivors of the battle with Silverkin are being rounded up. We need to get as many of them in hiding as possible. Katrina, good, you’re here, go to my house, and get my traveling gear.”

“Are you going somewhere?” the waitress responded to the sudden order. She had just walked down the stairs from the sleeping quarters.”

“Hopefully someplace where the king can’t find me for a day or two, can you get my things?”

“Sure, but ah, can I go with you?” Katrina, with every ounce of courage she had, asked.

“Ah, well. Zankul needs you here, and ah I don’t know if you want to be with someone who just ran from the Paladin guard. They’re trying to kill me.” Nerislynn replied hand on the back of his head, slightly dazed by the question.

“Oh, I see…”

“We can spend some time together when I get back though.”

“I’ll go get your stuff.” Katrina beamed. She ran out the door and headed for Nerislynn’s place. “How did this happen? What is going on?” Tigersoul asked.

“I’m not completely sure myself old man. We need to talk, where can I set up?”

***

“Well, here we are. We need to get started. What the hell?” P’lar had opened the door of his house. His things were scattered. One of the windows was broken in. So far nothing seemed missing, but more than a few jars of various foodstuffs and spell components were broken on the floor.

“What happened here, who would rummage through your place?” Pysura asked. Then she saw it, the intruder had torn his tunic, leaving just enough behind to recognize the partial symbol. “The local guards were here. We need to see what’s missing then I think it would be best to go somewhere else.”

“Agreed, let me check on some things.” P’lar stomped one of the floorboards this caused the one on the other end to push up far enough to pull open with hand. He bent down, opened the cubby-hole, and made a quick inventory. “Good they didn’t find this. I still have mine and Seat’s journals, and everything we gathered from his house. I’ll grab some traveling gear and we’ll get out of here.”

“And where would you be off to?” Zankul Tigersoul was standing in the door. He had squeezed himself back into his armor, but was wearing a cloak to cover this fact.

“Bartender, you’re not one to visit normally. We seem to be in a bit of a pickle, actually. This mess was caused by one or more guards. I assume from the lack of missing items, they were here for someone, as oppose to something.”

“Agreed, that’s why I’m here. The king sent a messenger to declare all of the surviving paladins undead spies. Nerislynn is on the run as well, but he’s trying to gather anyone who might know what’s going on before he leaves. Come by the bar in an hour. That should give you time to prepare. Cloak up, the guards are after both of you, and a few more. My barmaid will help you get through town quietly. We may be in for a rough few days. I’m also here so you can tell me of anything you need; I can get it while you’re packing.”

“Actually, there are a few things. Let me write them down.” P’lar quickly scribbled a list of items they would need depending on whether or not they were leaving town. He handed the list to Tigersoul, and beckoned Katrina in. “There you go, I suggest we close the door and pack. We’ll be at the Eve’s Rest in no time. Then someone gets to explain what’s going on”

“Agreed. I will see you there.”

***

That evening, P’lar, Nerislynn, and Pysura were in a small room on the second floor of the Eve’s Nest the room had been used by Paladins before the armory was finished back when Tigersoul’s uncle owned the Inn. Now it was mostly for storage, but it had a pipe running from a table in the center to just behind the bar on the main floor. This allowed Zankul to hear the conversation and if necessary, provide input.

“…Then I ran, they were trying to arrest me. I knew something was off and that I couldn’t just go with them and prove the king wrong.”

“But Paladin armories have powerful truth spells on them. No one can lie in the walls of the Paladins. How did he get away with saying these things?”

“I’ve thought about that, and I noticed that he said ‘the King states’ a lot. He knew about the spells, so he simply worded it such that he was telling the truth. He’s not like the past few dense messengers the King has sent. This one’s crafty, and a little disturbing.” Nerislynn answered Pysura’s question.

“So the king is after us, and all of the survivors of the attack he ordered. Why the paladins and warriors. If he thinks we’re evil, that’s one thing. He knows better than to believe that crazy story he’s sent out. So what’s this really about?” P’lar asked.

“I don’t know, there has to be something about the people he sent to that battle. I don’t think he intended for any of us to survive in the first place. The question is why?”

“You yourself said you weren’t so sure about the attacks by the undead. Maybe he noticed that many people were questioning the validity of the attacks. He may have sent such a specific group so that he wouldn’t have to deal with it.” Tigersoul yelled up the tube. The bar was empty so no one would notice the odd statement.

“That’s a possibility. If he felt we were a threat, he may have just attempted to kill two birds with one fight. Silverkin was one of the few Necromancers anyone outside your group talked to. He may have been the only one capable of convincing anyone that these attacks weren’t real. Silverkin was a tough match for us. It could have been very easy for him to have killed all of us had he fought harder. That may have been what Tyrann was expecting.” Just then two stomps were heard through the pipe. “Someone’s entered the bar, get ready to hide.” Nerislynn said. The stomps had been from the bartender, a warning that someone was there.

“What can I do for you men?” Tigersoul asked. “We are looking for the undead spies and their masters. They may be hiding here. Have you seen any of them?” one of the guards, one Tigersoul rather respectded, asked.

“Actually, I haven’t, I had invited some of them to come here before I heard about what they were. They haven’t shown up. I expected you had caught them already.” Zankul answered.

“I haven’t. I know you, Zankul, you would tell me where they were if you knew. Send for me if the drop in.” “You bet. Wanna ale?”

“No, I need to get going.”

“Okay, see you later.” The guard simply waved in response, after he got out the door and down the path, Zankul gave the all clear. “I hate to lie to that one. He’s good, a little blindly loyal, but a good kid all in all.”

“He’s following orders; you can’t blame him for trying.” P’lar responded.

“That’s just about all of them that won’t insist on searching the place. You three better decide if you’re gonna go, and where you’re gonna go.”

“He’s right, we can’t stay here. We need to get out at least until that messenger leaves tomorrow. Where can we go though?” “What about your master’s old place, you could probably keep it fairly secluded.”

“With some work, yeah, but that’s not what I studied necromancy for.”

“I know, but some times you have to do things you don’t want to, or break you traditions. Paladins traditionally don’t run from the king, and don’t hide with necromancers. Some of our traditions have been followed to extremes of late. It may be time to change that.”

“You’re right Nerislynn of the Paladins. It’s time to change. Okay, but first we should lead them in the wrong direction. Now, here’s what I have in mind.” With that Pysura explained a plan to get them out of town. They would implement it later tonight.

***

“Okay, here goes. Remember, as the guard walks by you need to drop that, and throw your hood back when you pick it up. Look him in the eye so that he notices it’s you. Then we’ll make a run for it the thing will go off as we clear it. It should slow them down long enough to get us to the raft and on the river before they can catch us. Then we raft up stream to the clearing I talked about. That should leave them guessing where we went. Ready, walk.” Psyura walked just ahead of the small mob they had gathered.

They hadn’t been able to get a hold of anyone else from the survivors. All had been captured except for the three now walking. It was getting dark, but not completely night yet. As the got to the middle of the road, Nerislynn did what he was told. He dropped the large bag, it had the components for a parlor trick specter illusion; the drop broke the jar that one of the components was in, allowing them to mix in the bag. Nerislynn reached for the bag, and his hood went down. He looked at the guard.

“There they are! Alarm! Alarm!” with that, the king’s guard flooded the area from all sides. The back guards were spooked by the sudden screaming ghost in the road. However, the trio had to run past two in their path. Nerislynn bull rushed one of them knocking him to the ground. Fortunately for the group, a full plate armor suit made getting back up on ones own impossible. The other guards helped their comrade up, then chased them into the woods.

The guards’ armor slowed them down drastically. Nerislynn was glad he’d left his now, otherwise they would have been easy targets. He looked back, “Arrows!” the group made hard angles in there path. P’lar took one in the shoulder, and began to slow. Nerislynn helped him the rest of the way to the raft.

“They’re headed across the river, to the bridge. To the bridge!” the captain of the guard yelled. The bridge was only a few minutes’ run from where they were. They headed for the shore on the other side until the guards were no longer visible. Then, the pushed off for downstream. In about an hour, they were at the clearing, in two they were at the cottage of the late Seatumal Silverkin. They built a small fire in the fireplace, closed the shutters to prevent the light from leaking out for someone to see, and got ready for a short night’s rest. This night was strong already, and the next day would bring all kinds of changes. More traditions would be broken, on both sides.