April 24, 5319 A.A.

Mark sat in a wooden chair outside the doors of the barn, staring at the horrific aftermath of the battle. Frank had taken the lumber cart from him, and they had used it to ferry the gravely wounded to the barn which had become a makeshift hospital. His wife was desperately trying to sew Torig's chest shut. An orc axe had cleaved through his sternum, and as it was torn out it left a gaping wound in its place. Alexandra had worked as an ER nurse, she handled the horrors of the battlefield with a determined calm born from experience. Mark however, was weak. He had stared at the wound which no longer gushed blood, she had already sutured the arteries she could, and the rest she had clamped shut. Torig was a veteran, and his healing factor would see him through if she could just get him patched up. All mark saw was a man who had shown him how to drive a carriage drenched in his own blood, his skin far too pale. He was horrified. He had picked up his chair in his good hand, and left the barn.

His wrist still burned with pain, but he knew better than to whine. His wife and Loretta had for more to worry about than a broken wrist. He hoped getting outside would allow him to escape the horror of the dying men inside, but as he surveyed the blood stained fields he knew it wasn't something he was meant to escape. Good men were dead, and yet he was too much of a coward to even look at the bodies that had been loaded onto the lumber cart. His eyes were irresistibly drawn to his mentor, Liam. The large man's entire body was wet with blood that was not his own as he rested amongst the corpses of their foes. He had finally ceased his mad rampage and sat limply next to the corpse of his final victim, now little more than a mess of meaty pulp. Fredrick stood at his side, no words passed between them but he rested a reassuring hand on the craftsman's shoulder. Mark couldn't believe what he had seen, but he knew Liam had slaughtered a full third of their enemies. And many of those had been with his bare hands.

Liam, a berserker? Mark wondered. He knew the term well, at least as it was portrayed in fantasy and games. A wild and bloodthirsty warrior who grew drunk at the smell of blood. A man who abandoned all reason and thoughts of defending himself and dedicated their entire soul to tearing his enemies apart. He had never imagined a real person like that existing, but here he was. Why was he here? Why did such a strong man spend his days carving wood and chopping logs? What would happen now? But as he watched Fredrick and Liam, he felt like he was intruding on something, something private. He gazed around, trying to see what else was going on, and saw the hunters moving off.

Now that their own were all accounted for, Jothan led Rorik's hunters to recover Aaron's corpse. A body wasn't needed for a revival, but no one would be revived until the villagers gathered after dusk. Jothan didn't feel right leaving him to the wolves till then and he still didn't know how many obols Dorian had. He had argued loudly until Dorian approved the venture, on the condition they moved cautiously and fell back if they ran into any more orcs.

As he watched them leave, a huge commotion erupted amongst the men who had begun to gather the orc corpses.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"It's gone!" Sigmund roared.

"What are you raving about old man? Loose your teeth?" One of the new guardsmen quipped, only to be smacked harshly by his comrade Brenda.

"Sorry for this ass Sigmund. He hasn't learned respect yet, but I promise he will" She apologized "What have you lost?"

"Not what, who..." Sigmund moaned. "Their leader. The brute. He's gone."

"No..." Brenda whispered. "Are you sure? Absolutely sure?"

"Yes, he was here. Right next to his hammer. I turned around to move this other orc... and when I turned back he was gone."

"What the hell are you two on about? Liam tore the bastard apart. He's not going anywhere!" The novice guardsmen argued, completely oblivious to the horror in front of him.

Dorian answered, his voice grave. "He revived you idiot. That ugly monster will revive at his home this time tomorrow, only now he is humiliated and enraged. It means an entire orc tribe of unknown size knows exactly where we are. It means we will have to fight hard for our homes, and many more of our friends will die."

"Oh..." Was the only reply the novice guardsmen could muster. Dark days were ahead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That night, everyone gathered in the village center. The sun had just disappeared behind the western mountains, but the radiant blue moon illuminated the the gathering better than torches ever could. The wounded had all either perished or stabilized, and even those still laid up in bed had been carried to the gathering. Everyone brought their own chairs, and sat in a large circle, except for Dorian who stood in the center. Around him rested five veiled corpses. Dorian saw that all those still living had gathered, and he began the morbid meeting.

"We were taken unawares today, something that will never happen again. We have paid the price of our complacency. Five good men are dead. But we over extended ourselves, we summoned too many new people and we only have three Obols left. After the burden of saving our wounded from the brink of death, Vidar can only offer us one more. It was my failure for not keeping more in reserve, but regardless, we are faced with a terrible decision.

Luke, the young Shepard who has watched over our herds. He joined the guardsmen to hold the line when the orcs were pressing in. His youthful vigor and awful jokes have brightened our days the last year.

Cyrus, a stalwart guardsmen. He held the line at Liam's side as long as he could. He has stood watch at the gates, ever vigilant to the dangers of the world.

Daren, a dedicated lumberman. He joined us only recently, but he charged into battle alongside our brothers all the same. Without his sacrifice and the efforts of the other foresters, the orcs would have likely encircled our guardsmen. He has done his job well, and shows great promise.

Aaron, a Ranger. Another new addition to our village, he showed immense bravery, wounded and exhausted, unwilling to drag down his party with him, he stood alone against the raging horde and bought time for his friends to escape. He has served Jothan, and our village well.

Adam, the new protector for Jothan's party. He survived the flight from the orcs, enduring the grueling journey despite his low level, keeping up with his party through sheer force of will, but he fell within sight of the walls. Despite the danger of his job, he performed admirably, standing shoulder to shoulder with Douglass.

These are our five fallen brothers, all fine men, but we must choose. Only four may walk amongst us again. In these dark times we cannot be without one of our best guardsmen. Luke had no apprentice, and if we are to be besieged by these brutes, we must make full use of our livestock. There can be no doubt, Luke and Cyrus must be revived, but the final three must be decided. Ivar, and Jothan will speak for their men, then we will hear from the rest of you. Ivar, come forward."

The stern lumberman rose from his seat. All eyes were upon him, his chest was wrapped in blood soaked bandages and he limped as he walked towards the veiled corpse of Daren. "Daren took to his work like a fish to water." Grief was plain in his voice, but he didn't falter. "Our work is hard, especially for a new arrival, weak as he was. But he never complained. He thrived, enjoying the long and hard days. Hard work was happiness for Daren, and I've never quite seen anything like it before. He had the soul of a pioneer, just like the rest of us. Chilton was his home, and he did his best to serve the village, to contribute. And... When I gave the order, when I sent him to his death. He didn't hesitate for even a moment before charging to the aid of the guardsmen. He was one of us, and gave his life for us." Ivar finished, but remained standing at the head of his comrade's body.

"Thank you, Ivar. Jothan, come forward."

The weary ranger came to stand between the bodies of his hunters. He had changed into plain clothes, Adam's blood washed from his hands. "Today, I have failed you. In my rush to catch up to our pray, I threw caution to the wind. I charged blindly ahead, confident in our strength. We stumbled into a small group of orcs, but we were more than a match for them. The first two went down, but the third got away. Rather than escape while we could, I chose to pursue him. And in so doing, I led the orcs back to us. Our two new recruits, Aaron and Adam served well.

Adam was as good a protector as anyone could ask for. He had no experience with fighting, but he was willing to learn. Douglass taught him well, and he grew stronger every day. Aaron was brave, and kept his head even at the worst of times. As we were racing back, he could have begged us to carry him. He could have limped along till he collapsed. But I asked him to buy us time, and he not only held his ground, he charged at the strongest among them. He bought us the precious time we needed.

Both were good men, and should not be punished for my failure. We will need all the fighters we can get in the coming days." He finished with his eyes on the ground in shame.

Ivar shot Jothan a dark look. His words plainly showed that even if they were responsible, he believed a fighter's life more valuable than a worker. He yelled, "We have no lumbermen to spare, why should Daren be sacrificed after we risked our lives to clean up your mess! Why should their lives be worth more than his!" Jothan's shame quickly turned to anger.

Dorian interjected before Jothan could reply, his voice both menacing and powerful despite his aged appearance. "ENOUGH! You know the rules Ivar. We do not argue, we do not speak ill of the dead. We speak only of their achievements and their importance to the village. Does anyone else wish to speak?" Both Jothan and Ivar looked as if they would continue arguing, but a harsh glare from Dorian silenced them both.

Maric, the other surviving ranger in Jothan's party stood up. "I would speak for Aaron." He spoke loudly as he strode to stand at Jothan's side. "We hunted together, side by side. Despite his inexperience, he was a reliable man. And I owe him my life. You have all heard it, but you cannot imagine the bravery it took him to face his death, and slow down those beasts! Without him, you would have two more veiled corpses here tonight."

"Thank you Maric. Anyone else?" Dorian asked the crowd.

"I would speak!" Liam announced as he rose from his chair, an edge to his voice. He hadn't spoken since the battle had begun, and as he walked out towards the middle of the gathering, it was plainly apparent he hadn't changed clothes or washed since the battle. Half-dried blood covered his entire body, both his clothes and his skin. Franklin had only just managed to pull him from the battlefield in time for the gathering. "All of these men are good men. But we must decide what is best for the village. Our village must expand, we are far too cramped inside this palisade. We are building houses yes, but first we must build a wall. We must protect our farmlands, our pastures and our people. We must build a great wall, of the largest trees this forest has to offer us. And for that, we will sorely need all the foresters we have, they are stretched thin as it is. I can raise a wall as fast as they can haul trees, and we must have it finished before the next raid. I am sorry, Jothan. But we need that wall."

Jothan turned on Dorian, "Does he speak for us all now? Is that to be the final word?"

"No, he does not. But I value his opinion as you should. And he is right. We must have a wall, and we need all four of our foresters if we are to do it."

"And what of my men?" Jothan cried out. "What of them?"

"That is up to you, you must choose one."

"One... Why one?"

"Because we over extended ourselves, we spent too many obols on new citizens, and didn't save enough for the dangers to come. That is our failure, but this is how it will be. I have decided. Daren will be revived, you must choose. Aaron or Adam. If you cannot choose, I will decide for you."

"Aaron... Revive Aaron." Jothan sighed, overtaken by his grief. He was a seasoned hunter. He had buried far too many friends, but this was something else. This was a rare occurrence. He had always either had no obols, and the dead were simply dead or he had enough to raise the people he lost. It had only happened twice in his life that he had to choose. This was the first time that he had been asked to make his case to someone else, the first time he had been asked to beg for the lives of his men.

"I am truly sorry Jothan. He will be remembered." After giving his condolences, he quietly gave the system command. "Show Lord Menu: Inactive Souls"

Inactive SoulsVillagerLevelClassCostTime RemainingActionAaron Rivers4.24Ranger1 Obol11 hours, 27 minutes remaining[Revive]Adam Edwards3.17Protector1 Obol11 hours, 52 minutes remaining[Revive]Luke Duncan41.58Herdsman1 Obol11 hours, 57 minutes remaining[Revive]Cyrus Olver69.82Guardsman1 Obol12 hours, 5 minutes remining[Revive]Daren Boyle2.63Harvester1 Obol13 hours, 24 minutes remaining[Revive]Obol's remaining:4

Dorian quickly tapped the revive option for Aaron, Luke, Cyrus and Daren. As he made to close the window, a confirmation window appeared.

Are you sure you want to revive the following subordinates?

Aaron Rivers

Luke Duncan

Cyrus Olver

Daren Boyle[Yes][No]

He pressed yes, and as he did four of the five bodies vanished. Their veils sank to the ground, the shapes they rested upon having ceased to exist. The only sign anything had ever been under them, were the lumps of their shoes and the faint outline of the clothes they had worn as the veils settled.

"And now we must prepare for Adam's funeral. Loretta, will you tend to him?"

"I will." The white priestess spoke as she rose.

"Then our meeting is completed. All of you get some sleep, we have much work to do come morning." With that, the meeting slowly dissolved, the villagers picking up their chairs, and wandering back to their homes. Soon all that remained were four empty veils, Loretta, Adam and Jothan.