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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Lazybones" data-source="post: 3394441" data-attributes="member: 143">Chapter 121THE SUMMONSTalen Karedes’s bootsteps and the accompanying clatter of metal echoed loudly off the bare marble walls of the Ducal Palace as he made his way in a hurry toward his summons.  Even clad in his heavy plate armor, he moved quickly, forcing the page on his right to hustle to keep up.  Even the guards at the double doors ahead didn’t slow him down; they heard him coming even before he rounded the last bend in the corridor, and one held the door open for him, offering a clipped salute that he returned with a crisp nod. There were others in the anteroom, men and women that Talen did not recognize.  Their professions were obvious from their garb; armored knights, and officers from both the Ducal Guard and the First Legion.  Priests of the Shining Father.  Guild mages.  Even a rail-thin monk from the Order of Tranquility, one of the rare monastic orders in Camar that followed the teachings of the ancient masters from Drusia across the sea.  Only the monk met his gaze for more than a few heartbeats, the man nodding slightly as Talen crossed the room to the far door.  It stood slightly open, but there were no more guards or pages warding the entry.No one emerged to greet him, but a voice drifted out from inside.  “Ah, Talen, finally.  Come inside.”The first of Camar’s Dragon Knights obeyed.  The conference room looked... larger that it had last time he’d been in here.  Of course, that time it had been occupied by a raging melee, and by a fiend so large that its head had brushed the ceiling fifteen feet above when it had leapt to attack.  Some of the decorations had been changed, the blood- and fire-stained tapestries and carpets replaced, but the great marble table in the middle of the room was still there.  The room’s occupants were gathered around it.  “Shut the door behind you,” Tiros said, turning back to the map spread out over the edge of the table. Talen secured the door and came over to join Tiros and the others.  He nodded to the Patriarch, who returned the gesture with a piercing look that made Talen uneasy. The high priest stood at Tiros’s right, standing protectively over a bundle that had been laid upon the end of the table, wrapped in heavy white cloth.  Honoratius was not present, but there was a woman mage on the marshal’s other side.  She seemed barely past her teens, too young to be attending a meeting of this importance, but when her eyes brushed Talen’s, he was surprised to see a stare that reminded him instantly of the old archmage.  The other two men at the table wore the uniforms of Camarian general officers, but Talen did not recognize either of them by sight.   Sorcery, the knight thought to himself, moving close enough to the table to see the map, without crowding the others there.  Black markers had been put on it, indicating places far to the south of the city.  From their position, Talen suspected why he was here, and even though a certain notorious locale had not been specifically marked, he felt a cold chill of anticipation clench in his gut. Tiros saw that he had recognized it, and nodded.  “It’s starting.”“What’s the situation?”The Patriarch turned to him and pointed at the black marks on the map.  “In the last four days, undead have attacked isolated settlements at these locations,” the high priest reported.  “Approximately three hundred citizens have been killed, or are missing.  The survivors are moving north, converging on Highbluff.”“What do we know about the enemy forces?” Talen asked. The woman mage looked at him.  Her voice was as youthful as her body, but again something in it reminded him of Honoratius.  “The attacks appear to be random, uncoordinated, at first glance,” she said.  “But that is a false impression, deliberately cultivated.  The enemy force includes skeletons, zombies, ghouls, ghasts, shadows, and wraiths.  Their leaders are protected from scrying magic, but we have seen human priests in their company.”“Followers of Orcus,” Talen said. The young woman nodded.  “They are not wearing obvious identifiers, but that is our assumption as well.  They appear to be taking captives where possible, which are borne south.  We lose track of them in this region,” she said, pointing out a spot on the map with a long black wand. Talen didn’t need to look.  “Rappan Athuk.  What is the total enemy strength?”For the first time, the woman looked slightly uncertain.  “They are masking their presence with magic, making it difficult to track them with precision.  But our best estimate is that there are between four and six hundred corporeal undead in all, scattered across a broad front, sweeping up settlements as they come.”“What about the shadows, and the wraiths?”“We are not certain,” the Patriarch said.  “And that is very dangerous.  Those undead cannot abide the light of the sun, but the poor weather aids them, and they can take shelter underground during the day in any case.  All of the reports of attacks from such beings have taken place at night.”Talen remembered the wraiths that had drained the life from one of his men under the Well, and could not repress a shudder.“We must respond to this attack with all the strength we can muster,” Tiros said.  “But this attack has come at the worst possible time.  More than half our available forces are stuck in the north, at Dalemar.  The First is out of position on the western frontier, even if they were at full strength and ready to move.”“Two centuries will be ready to move on your order on six hours’ notice,” one of the generals said.  Talen saw that his lower lip trembled slightly as he spoke, but said nothing. “That notice has already been sent, General Darius,” Tiros said.  “But even if they can make their way down the Nalos most of the way, a far from certain prospect, it will take the better part of two weeks before they could possibly reach Highbluff.”“What about Dar?” Talen asked. “The Border Legion is already en route to Highbluff,” Tiros responded.  “They should be there in six days, at the outset.”“By then, the matter may already be decided, for good or for ill,” the Patriarch said.  “If the enemy falls back, they give us a chance to consolidate our forces, and strike a decisive blow.  But if they continue moving forward, they have a good chance of overrunning those fleeing from the destroyed settlements, and from the other communities scattered between Highbluff and the enemy.”  Talen looked at the map.  Even riding hard, changing horses along the way, it would take men riding from Camar at least four days to reach Highbluff.  An army on foot would take longer, even force marched.  And if the roads were crowded with refugees, desperate for escape... “What forces can we gather here?” Talen asked. “We have the Guild, the church of the Father, and we have the Guard,” Tiros said.  He looked up to the second of the general officers, a lean figure who barely filled out the new uniform, with skin the texture of old leather.  “Commander?”“The Guard stands ready to provide whatever is required,” the man said.  As soon as he spoke, Talen recognized the man; that rasping, gravelly voice could only belong to Doran Pravos, the man that Tiros had tapped to serve as the new head of the old Ducal Guard.  Pravos had injured his throat fighting on the shield wall at Ravenford, at the same battle where Tiros had won the Golden Starburst for Valor twenty-two years ago.  During the Duke’s reign he’d been banished to one of the farthest outposts on the barbarian frontier to the north, but he’d already accomplished a great deal since his return, purging the Guard of those who had hied too closely to the philosophies and manners of the late Duke.  Pravos had begun a new recruitment program to restore the strength of the city’s defense force, but that work had yet to come to full fruition, and likely would not for months, if not a year or two.  “Three hundred can ride south on the hour, with gear and train to follow.”“It would not be wise to send the entire available force,” the Patriarch noted.  “There will be a panic in the city, as word spreads.”“We must find a way to delay them,” Talen said.  “To give those fleeing time to reach Highbluff, and for reinforcements to arrive to help prepare the defenses.  He looked at the map, his eyes drawn to a point that had already been marked with a thin “X”.  Alderford, the map legend indicating that the place was barely a village, situated on a natural crossing across the Silver River.  Talen knew that the “river” was barely more than a wide stream, barely fifty yards across, certainly no obstacle to enemies that did not need to breathe.  But it could hold up those fleeing, especially if the recent storms had swollen the normally quiet stream into a fast-moving torrent.  Tiros saw his gaze and nodded.  “If we can hold the road there, we can give those fleeing a chance to get out.”“How quickly, and how many?” Talen asked. Tiros looked to the young mage, who sighed.  “Teleportation magic is a great strain, marshal.  But I have already scried the village, and I can move a small party there.  Fifteen individuals in all.”“Fifteen?”  Pravos said, turning to Tiros.  “With all due respect, sir, that’s a suicide mission.”“I’m not sending anyone to die,” Tiros said.  “This is a fighting rearguard, a delaying action.  And it will be volunteers only—”“I volunteer to go,” Talen interrupted.  “And while Shay always makes me pay when I speak for her, I know she’ll kill me if I go without her, so that’s two.”“You will need the light of the Shining Father to have any chance at all,” the Patriarch said.  “I will ask my priests, and am certain that I can secure up to a half-dozen blessed by the Father to accompany you.”“I know of good men who will serve,” Pravos said.  “As do I,” Talen said.  “The order of the Dragon Knights may be new, but it stands ready to defend the people of Camar.”“What of the Guild?” Tiros asked. The woman-who-was-not met the marshal’s gaze squarely.  “After Zosimos, the enthusiasm of my peers may not be great,” she said.  “But I will ask.”Tiros turned back to Talen.  “When can you be ready?”Talen glanced at the nearest window.  “It’ll be dark in about two hours... we’d better be ready before then.”Tiros nodded.  Talen saluted, then started to leave, but paused as Tiros caught his eye, then looked past him to the Patriarch.  “There is one other matter, before you go, ser Knight.”The Patriarch picked up the wrapped burden from the table, and offered it to Talen.  The Knight drew back the covering, revealing the hilt of a longsword, its steel polished and brilliant, the hilt wrapped in aged and faded leather.  The scabbard was brand new, but Talen could tell that the weapon itself was far older.  “You go forth into darkness, knight, but with this sword, you will carry with you the light of the day.”Talen drew the blade, the steel singing slightly as it hissed out of the scabbard.  Talen could see the sigil of the burning torch etched into the flawless steel of the blade.  The balance was perfect. “A fine weapon,” Talen said to the priest.  “I will endeavor to earn the honor you have bestowed upon me.”“The sword’s name is Beatus Incendia, the priest said.  “Speak it aloud, knight.”Talen nodded, and held up the sword.  ”Beatus Incendia!” he said.  The name meant blessed fire in the old tongue, and the words felt... right, as he said them.The sword responded.  As everyone in the room watched in amazement, the sword erupted into brilliant white flames, blazing up the length of the steel, filling the room with a pure, holy light.  “Go forth, my son, and bring light into the darkness,” the Patriarch said, laying a hand upon Talen’s forehead, blessing him.  When Talen sheathed the blade, the flames died, and the room darkened, but something of that light shone in the knight’s eyes, and when he left the room, those same gathered men and women who had looked past him before stared, and wondered at what had changed.* * * * * Author’s Note: Beatus Incendia is a +1 holy flaming longsword.</blockquote>

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