www.epilogue.net/art/41837-army

New Quest Objective

- Survive

You’ll be playing Amaryllis a former novice of the temple. Born in a small village, she has spent most of her life training to take over from her mother and father as a priestess while always inwardly desiring to see more of the world.

***

Amaryllis had made quite a few bad decisions in her life but this by far had to be the worst, she thought ruefully. Caught in the act of stealing a potion of life’s glory, she had been taken to the town’s prison to serve her penance, when a warrior armored head to toe in black scooped her out with the rest of the prisoners. However the most difficult part was the realisation she had forever stained her honor for the sake of someone else. Not that she had much honor left to begin with, abandoning her childhood home, and her family, she had thought to start her own life of adventure, one where did not always have look up into clouds and wonder what was beyond. But instead she had given it all up for some mino who would most likely vanish from her life.

The Honor Blades she had known in life, lived only for the code and nothing else. Their lives dictated by a set of rules written down by Ice Eyes long ago to ensure the darkness would never pervade its way into their order. It was a code that would never allow them to serve for their own selfish purpose such as travelling the world alongside her.

Before Sky had told her of Grey’s plans to leave the village, her parents had planned to marry her off to some acolyte from the Port City of Aquila, cutting off all hope she would ever get to see the world through her own eyes and see it’s wonders for herself.

The world was simply too big for that.

Rocked from side to side as the wagon rumbled across the uneven terrain, she looked out past the metal bars, and saw the land gradually transform from a lush and healthy green to a dirty ashen brown, the spread of the Ash Lands ravaging the countryside like a plague as the line of wagons continued to trundle northward along the White Stone road, escorted by thousands of armoured warriors in stiff grey columns that marched to either side. The road cutting a direct path through the center of the land. While Amaryllis’ fellow prisoners stared out with forlorn expressions that could only be considered to be mourning, each of them knowing what awaited them at the end. And perhaps she did as well.

Having spoken to the few that would speak to her, she had learned that Gromel was a young stablehand from Shadow’s Bay who had woken up one night from too much drinking to find himself in prison. Another Dayala, was a wealthy fae'lon from the Isle of Ne'veen who had come to trade when she had been ambushed out in the streets. Lycel and Cereles were farmers that would regularly bring their harvest into town. Bosin, a former guard had tried desert his post when his fellow brothers had turned on him. While Sigren, a new mother had brought her sick child Wentel to the shrine in the temple in the hopes he could be healed. And some like Myrllis had the same story, imprisoned for a minor offence then taken elsewhere. However most were just normal folk going about their daily lives when they were snatched up in the middle of the night.

She could still recall her visit she had gotten from the dark mage who had come to her with deathly pale creatures in black leather armor. The witch's bright blue eyes inspecting each one of them as though they were nothing but animals to her, before her eyes lit up on Amaryllis. The chill cold that had swept through her at that moment, causing Myrllis to shake uncontrollably as the mage motioned for the undead creatures to open up the cage and drag her out of the dungeon.

Brought back out into the light of day, she remembered gasping in astonishment at the gathering hosts of warriors, the noise and stench of the camp, and the hundreds of wagons stuffed full of prisoners.

Thrown inside a cage herself, she had turned to see a minotaur armored in golden plate emerge from the town gates behind her, his steed covered in gleaming gemstones, and horn tips painted a shade of gold. The riders that followed him out, wearing the same brilliant silver armor of the Honor Blades, but even from a distance Myrllis could tell they were not Honor Blades. The familiar steel greatswords carried by their order had been replaced by obsidian black weapons that drank in the light. The prisoner beside her, whispering, “Colmar.”

It was then that realised she was in deeper trouble than she first realised.

Shoulder jarring against the cage as they hit a bump in the road, she grabbed a hold of the bars and felt the wooden floorboards rattle beneath her, her gaze drifting over the hundreds of pennants that flew the shattered green shield of House Colmar. The blocks of horsemen she saw in the distance skirting the fringes of the great army, while ahead of them, flooding the entire valley and surrounding hills was a swarm of the same strange creatures she’d seen by the mage's side. The small slits that did not cover their eyeholes revealing dwarves, redlings, minotaurs, orcs, goblins, ogrekans, werewolves and fae’lon. It was as if every race in the world had been collected here, and placed ahead of the army in disorganized ranks that shambled forward. The few she saw up close, stirring a touch of pity within her even though she did not know why.

In her darker moments as they waited for Palvane the guard assigned to provide them with food, and make sure they were still alive, she began to wonder if Grey would even search for her? Wondered if he even knew she was missing? Tortured herself with questions she did not know the answers to. All she knew was that she had to hope that rescue was coming. Or if not, she would have to find a way out for herself, an idea so ludicrous considering she was in the middle of an army, and yet all she had left was hope.

Summoned somehow by her thoughts, Palvane stomped over towards the wagons, his boots flinging up mud as he made his way to them, the square cage jangling loudly at each bump and hole in the road. The thin faced minotaur, a sallow faced worm with creepy violet coloured eyes that always seemed to take great pleasure from their discomfort.

Carrying a slop bucket in one arm, he gave Myrllis a toothy smile, ladled some brown gunk out from the bucket and slopped it into cage. The disgusting goop splattering across the surface of the wooden floorboards as prisoners scrambled to get a handful. Whilst Palvane laughed all the while in that nasally voice of his as he slopped some more inside, his eyes watching Amaryllis with that ugly sneer as he delighted in their shame. “Enjoy your meal, it will be the last one you get for a good long while.”

Refusing to flinch from his weasel eyes, she stared back at him, infusing herself with every bit of rage she felt bubbling inside at the way her life had turned upside down, until with a nervous bark of laughter he strode away and moved on to the next wagon in line. Boris quickly moving to take charge of the situation.

Almost as big as Grey with saucer like eyes that always seemed to hold a touch of sadness, Boris had broad siney shoulders, and a hard face vacant of all emotion as he shoved everyone back with a growl, “Wait!”

He then nodded his head to Gromel to begin handing out equal portions to everyone. The dark brown goo made of sapling roots that were ground up for protein and boiled in water. The awful stuff, tasting much like the herbal teas Myrillis had gotten from her mother as a child. The foul bitter taste almost causing her to cough the thick brown sludge back up as she tried to swallow it down in one gulp.

Gromel moving across her to hold out his hand to Dayala, only to see the elf slap the food right out from his palm. Her nose cringing up in disgust. “Get that filth away from me you disgusting beast.” The wounded look in the poor boy’s hazel coloured eyes boiling Myrllis’ heart with a wild fury.

(Click here to do something.)

Spoiler: Spoiler

Unable to hold her anger in check, she leaned across the wagon, and gave everything she had to slap the elf hard across the cheek, leaving a fine imprint on her pale, porcelain skin, before spitting out vehemently, “The boy was only trying to show you a bit of kindness, elf! You should show more respect! You’d think after living for so long your kind would have learned that at least!”

Face flushed red with anger, Dayala looked just about ready to leap across the cage to throttle Amaryllis with her bare hands, if not for Boris who quickly grabbed the fae by the shoulder and pulled her away with everyone staring daggers at her in reprove.

Dayala struggling herself free of his grasp as she glowered hotly at Myrlis, before moving off to the far corner of the cage to be on her own. Gromel shooting Myrllis a smile of thanks. (+ 5 Light.)

(Click here to say nothing.)

Spoiler: Spoiler

Inwardly seething at the injustice of it all, Myrllis turned away unable to look at the young minotaur as he tried to gather the food the foolish elf had wasted by knocking out of his hands. The looks of utter loathing on the faces of those in the cage with her, mirrored by the same hopeless feeling she felt inside.

She should have done something.

***

Nightfall came quickly after that with each sun setting one after the other, the armies pace all but slowed to a crawl as torches were lit up to push back the darkness. The spreading pools of light that stretched for miles almost beautiful as they columns of warriors snaked their way forward.

Head jolted from side to side as she tried to get some sleep, she felt someone move to stand beside her, his deep voice a husky whisper as he spoke softly. “This far north. There can only be one place we could be going,” he stated.

Head lifted upward at the sound of Boris' gravelly voice, Myrllis gave up all hope of getting any sleep and stood up to join him by the bars, her gaze drifting down to see the dark stains on the bottom half of her white robes as she tried to brush it clean, her ineffectual efforts only serving to spread it further.

“And where is that exactly?”she said in an exasperated tone of annoyance.

Boris shrugged his big shoulders and pointed his finger off into the distance where a single light still blazed on the horizon. The stars above somehow concentrated together to bathe the entire vale ahead in a glistening white aura. “The Citadel of Fire,” he said.

Heart almost ground to a halt at the sight of it, she looked back up at him in astonishment, a part of her unable to believe what he had said, and yet even as she looked north, she knew his words to be true. The Temple of Light where the Honor Blades swore their oaths of fealty could be said to be seen for thousands of miles in all directions. The eternal flame tended to by the First Blade of Light, a beacon of purity in the darkness of the world.

Comforted and terrified at the same time at how close they were to it, she met Boris’ steely gaze, and asked the terrible question that stood poised on the end of her tongue. “But why?”

Fists clenched around the bars, Boris shook his head angrily. “Why else? It wasn’t enough for him to forbid the Honor Blades entery into his lands, he now wishes to hunt us down one by one. He has convinced himself the order is to blame for everything that has happened to his people, the spread of the Ashen Lands, the appearance of the Troll Kings...and the deaths of his family.

"Since the loss of his wife and children in the massacre, Colmar has all but lost his mind. This war of his has only one purpose now,” he turned to meet her eyes, his face becoming as hard as iron, “he means to eradicate the order and all who follow the code.”

Mind utterly aghast, Myrllis found herself trembling at his words. No, no, no that couldn’t be! Colmar the Hero, Colmar the Saviour, he would not do this! He would not do this! He was the one who had ended the troll invasion, the one who’d found a way to protect the south from the worst of the Ashen Lands, the one who’d saved them from the demons at Shadow’s Bay! He would not do this! This was not his doing! And yet no matter how she tried to look at it, she could hear no lies in Boris' voice. If he spoke falsely she could not sense it.

“How--”she began.

“--How do I know all this?” Boris finished with a bitter smile.

The stars began to emerge out from behind the clouds above to shower their light into the darkness. The whisper of the breeze and sigh of the wind as it tousled her robes bittersweet as, Boris replied, “We have met already though you may not remember me. My is Halmark, and Colmar was once my brother in arms. That is how I know.”

To be continued...