Beyond the Borders

Beyond the Borders
- Lawrence Everett, Level 12 Lord [Blonde Panther]
- Min'nei, Level 10 Soldier [Darth Slaverus]
- Noah Garod, Level 14 Tactician [Unnamed Dude]

Lawrence tapped his knuckles against Guinevere's hoof and she lifted her leg so he could inspect the underside. As he had suspected, there was a sizeable rock securely lodged between the iron and the middle of her hoof. Clucking his tongue, he tried to squeeze his fingers under the blasted thing, but tugging it out took a good amount of time and effort. Finally, he had the thing in his hand and he tossed it away.

"With apologies," he said to the hawk-nosed, black-haired man not far away from him. "I want to check on one more thing before we continue. Keep an eye on her." He pointed at Guinevere as he spoke that last sentence, and saw the man grab on to her reins before he turned around and walked over to one of the few women in their company.

Dame Rayne rode with a passenger, which was unusual for Everett troops- everyone enrolled in his militia for long enough that they were skilled enough for him to bring on this crucial mission, would ride their own. But then again, this passenger wasn't part of Everett's militia... "Dame Min'nei," he said as he approached the Chon'sinite warrior, "Are you feeling well? Please do not hesitate to warn Dame Rayne or myself if something ails you."

He wasn't happy about having to bring this woman with him, but a promise was a promise. She had bested him fair and square in close combat, so he had been obligate to bring her with him, or bring shame to his family, and he would not do the latter to the memory of his deceased parents nor to his younger siblings in Ylisse.

Fearing that the circumstances surrounding her duel with Sir Everett had been greatly embellished in the various rumours circulating around the assembled force, Min'nei's reserved disposition had kept her from interacting with Lawrence's troops beyond what was strictly neccessary for the upcoming operation. The heart of an army was its commander, and she had no wish to undermine Sir Everett's leadership by fraternizing with his men. There was too much at stake.

Privately, she was also embarassed at how the whole affair had unfolded. Her illness had returned in force since her bout with Lawrence, robbing her of precious strength she would surely need in the coming days. Try as she might, she knew she could not conceal the relentless fits of coughing that had heralded the latest episode of nauseation. Her position was delicate- if Sir Everett could find sufficient grounds for forbidding her from joining his entourage, he might take it. That could not be allowed to happen.

Thus, when Sir Everett came to check on her, Min'nei kept her reply brief to minimize the chance that he might take notice of her rapidly-failing health. "Yes, my lord. You both honour me with your concern..." She managed, half-nodding, half-bowing to Lawrence. Although Min'nei had exchanged only marginally more words with Lady Rayne than the rest of the camp, she was still grateful for her company. The Ylissean troubadour had been very attentive to the sickly warrior's needs, and despite her patient's insistence on fending for herself, Lady Rayne had proven herself a compassionate and virtuous individual. Were Min'nei not so certain of her own eventual doom, she might well have pursued a friendship with the woman...

No sooner had Min'nei wheezed out the words, however, when she abruptly succumbed to a particularly frightful onslaught of coughs, as if fate itself had decided to spite her. Evidently, the worst of today's trials had yet to pass...

"Calm down," Lawrence said, although he suppressed the urge to reach out to support Min'nei. Rayne had already grabbed her staff in case it would be needed, and the noble had no desire to make the Chon'sinite warrior look weaker than she was by supporting her in front of the men. ...besides, it might start ungainly rumours. A woman enlisted into their army, despite their lord's aversion to women on the frontlines, whom he has an uncanny closeness to? Perhaps Lawrence wasn't the brightest amongst Ylisse's nobility, but he knew perfectly well the nature of the ideas the men would get about that.

"We still have a few hours to ride to the appointed campsite," he said, more loudly, as he turned away from Min'nei. He did so with a somewhat grand gesture to gain the attention of his other followers. "Once we arrive, we will make camp for both ourselves and for House Calderon's troops." As he spoke, he walked back to Guinevere, took the reins from Captain Vincent and effortlessly placed himself in the saddle. "I will appoint a watch once we arrive. Assume formation, and follow us."

Once he finished speaking, the other soldiers mounted, and he and Vincent trotted off. Walking would be too slow, but galloping would draw too much attention to them. Fortunately, Guinevere wasn't as troubled by the sand as Lawrence had feared. But then again... they were not yet into the truly soft, shifting sands.


Rayne, in the meanwhile, turned around to her passenger. Unlike the rest of the group, she had sent her horse into a very slow and collected gallop, barely any faster than the trotting of the other horses, to lessen strain on Min'nei. "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, "I could throw a spell your way right now if you'd like..."

"No." As usual, there was an element of finality in Min'nei's tone that precluded any argument. The troubadour's efforts to steady her mount had not gone unnoticed, and being an even greater inconvenience by draining her magical reserves was out of the question. She watched Lawrence leave, waiting until he was out of earshot before turning back to Rayne. "However... I pray that I am not overstepping my boundaries by asking, but I have... a request. I would be forever in your debt, if you were to fulfill it."

With a trembling hand, Min'nei reached into the folds of her kimono and retrieved a sealed envelope marked by the image of a cherry blossom tree. Showing the letter to Rayne, the sickly warrior continued.

"If I should perish in this quest, and Lord Everett deems that I have died well... May I ask that you ensure this missive safely arrives in Regna Ferox? My family is there, awaiting news of my fate... Please, Lady Rayne. I would ask Lord Everett, but I cannot impose upon him more than I already have. Will you aid me?"

Of course, Min'nei had no intention of dying on this mission. She would fight to liberate the Exalt with every fibre of her being, and hopefully live to tell the tale. Yet her recent brush with her affliction had reminded her of the grim possibility that her body might fail her at a critical moment. The disease had dulled her reflexes... One misstep was all it took.

Lonely roads stretched out languidly before a Plegian traveler. He sighed heavily as a small breeze kicked up a cloud of dust about him. The cloak around him tightened to block the worst of it.

But it was not the dust nor the ever-present silence pervading the air that weighed on him. It was the creatures that now roamed the lands. These...things, they should not have been. Their very existence defiled nature, and their presence was a danger to all around them.

They were known only as the Risen, to the best of his knowledge.

The traveler, Noah Garod, momentarily consulted his map. If this was still current, there should have been some form of outpost due east. He doubted that there would be any amount of considerable aid that the soldiers there could give, with the tensions between the Halidom and the Theocracy running so high, but he felt obligated to at least try to warn someone able to help of the Risen that had been spotted in the area. It may well have even been that their scouts had already spied them, but that seemed relatively unlikely... if anything, intelligence would be focused on any possible attacks from Ylisse, not assaults from the shambling mobs of undead from their own country.

"Well... if you're so sure." Rayne removed one hand from the reins to take the envelope, reaching further back to put it in a saddlebag with her other supplies. "I pray the Divine Dragon watch over us and it not be needed, however." She knew Lord Lawrence was normally a capable leader, but this was possibly the most important and stressful mission he'd ever led, with more pressure on his shoulders than he'd had in his life. This wasn't governing a portion of Ylisse- this was possibly riding two nobles and twenty men into their deaths. Still, Rayne knew better than to say all this to Min'nei, and only smiled before turning her attention forwards again.

In the front, Lawrence did the same. "There's not really any landmarks in this Dragon-forsaken desert, are there?" he asked his captain, holding one hand above his eyes to shield them from the sun. The Dark Knight shook his head.

"That is our task, Your Grace," he said. "We are to leave some markings for the Calderon company to follow." When Lawrence gave him a sideways glance, as to ask how they were going to do that, he raised one hand and produced a small flame. "We have a number of magic users with us, sir, as does Lady Serena. We can mark certain spots with it, and they would recognise it."

"I'll take your word for that," Lawrence said, but his attention was drawn by something else and he exerted pressure on Guinevere's mouth, pulling her to a stop as he raised his hand. This was a clearly visible and well-known sign to the riders behind him, who stopped their own horses. Lawrence drew his sword as a precautionary measure, pointing it to their two o' clock. "Is the heat making me hallucinate already, or is that a person?"

Captain Vincent drew his own sword as well, and he heard several of the riders behind them doing the same, so he was evidently not hallucinating. "Lower them," he said, lowering his own weapon as an example, "I'll go see what's going on." With that, he urged Guinevere forwards slowly. He would not speak, for fear of revealing his identity, and if this person was a Plegian, then unfortunately they could not let him go. He kept his sword at his side so the man would see he was armed and comfortable with the weapon, but also lowered so he would not feel threatened.

He didn't know if he would be fully prepared to cut him down where he stood, though.

Many men stood before Noah. No, "stood" was probably the wrong word; it was more like "rode." The great mass of armed men was almost to a man composed of cavalry. That, and they flew no flags. That was... worrisome. From the direction they were headed, they'd come from the border... Mercenaries, perhaps? Or something more sinister? Whatever the case, their armor and their horses informed the tactician that they were certainly not Plegian regulars. He tried to form a course of action in his head as he approached them to get in earshot. They were displaying weapons, but not brandishing them. His next move might be his last. He knew that he couldn't fight this many...

What was more, a lone rider approached him without speaking. They were testing him, waiting for his response. That was... extremely distressing.

"I don't know what errand you have here, stranger," he said as neutrally as possible, "but I'd suggest you finish it quickly. The Risen have been seen in these parts." Telling them that much couldn't hurt him if they proved hostile; and if they were friendly, then he may have saved a few lives.

As soon as the man spoke, Lawrence recognised his accent as Plegian. However, any semblance of prejudice against the man's words were eradicated by what he said. Risen! So they were in Plegia, too! Some of Lawrence's peers, particularly Lord Jacob of Temple, had pointed fingers at Plegia for the existence of the animated corpses, but if they were here too, and warranted warning total strangers for... then they were as hostile here. Lawrence shook his head, interrupting his train of thought. Leave the analysis of what this meant to Serena, he told himself, right now we have to undertake action.

"Sir." He looked to his side to see Vincent, who had casually walked over to him. "There's no reason to take this man's words for the truth." Lawrence shot him a look of disbelief. "He is Plegian, sir, as you can clearly hear. He may well be setting us up and leading us into an ambush or some other kind of trap. Even if there ARE Risen, how do we know he did not summon and command them?"

"Enough, Vincent." Lawrence's voice was stern, with a tone conveying he would not tolerate back talk. "We fly no colours and he could not have heard our accents until now. He has no idea who we are."

"As far as we know."

"I said, enough. I choose to believe him." He turned back to the Plegian. "I thank you for the warning. However, it is more important than life that we press on and we have no time to lose. Might I ask you where these sightings took place, so that we know to be more alert?"

"The ones I've been warned of are in the southwest," said Noah cautiously. That accent... it wasn't Plegian. It felt familiar, but it was a hazy feeling at best. Where had he heard it? He'd never been outside the country.

No. That didn't matter right now. These people had come from the opposite direction... then... No. Their weapons were too clean. But still...

"Would you tell me something?" Noah gestured to the stretch of land from which the company seemed to be heading from. "Did you see any soldiers on your way here?" He had come to the border in hopes of finding someone who could take action against those... things. But he'd yet to see anyone with arms other than this group.

"My lord... I must concur with your adjutant. I would advise exercising caution." Upon hearing that a stranger had been sighted just ahead, and that Sir Everett had issued forth to treat with him, Min'nei had urged Lady Reyne to bring her in for a closer look. Arriving mere moments after Captain Vincent had delivered his counsel, the sickly warrior couldn't help but chime in with her own thoughts on the matter. "There exists the grave possibility that this man is a scout for a larger force, or a spy sent to monitor our movements. If you do not intend to slay him, then we should take him into our custody."

If Min'nei had stepped beyond her station in recommending a course of action, she did not appear to recognize it. She was Lawrence's societal equal; she only deferred to him out of respect for his position as the commander. While it would be his prerogative as the leader to ignore her suggestion, she hoped he would see its merits. Prudence was always a wise choice in hostile territory. Still... Sir Everett struck her as a stubborn, impetuous fellow, a lord who had yet to realize that his retainers were his greatest treasures. She feared he might rebuff her on principle, in a misguided attempt to maintain his authority.

As she awaited his response, Min'nei eyed the outsider warily. He was rather short, with a slight build and clothes befitting of a common vagrant. He certainly did not present an imposing figure, but appearances could be deceiving, especially when it came to Plegians and their dark magics. Alsar Lemaat had taught her that. The day the foul sorcerer had condemned her to a life of eternal illness for spurning his advances had been the day Min'nei had learned not to give Grima's thralls the benefit of the doubt.

"Of course, I mean no offense to you, sir. I am certain that you understand my concerns." Min'nei said suddenly, her strict sense of honour compelling her to acknowledge the Plegian directly despite her suspicion. Her apology was sincere, on the off-chance he was entirely innocent, but there was a cold edge to her voice that made her distrust evident.

Lawrence successfully fought off the urge to roll his eyes, instead closing them in an attempt to keep his feelings of frustration within him and maintain his dignity. Vincent, he had expected to be unreasonable and hostile by default to anything they would encounter in Plegia that did not look, sound, and smell (sometimes, Lawrence swore that the captain could smell these things) Ylissean. However, now Min'nei piped up as well. Whatever had happened to trusting and submitting to his leadership? Still, he would not engage in an argument in front of this Plegian, even if they were right. However, he was unwilling to forcibly take the man prisoner. He didn't want any Plegians learning of their mission, or even just antagonise this man and risk him breaking free and attacking from inside the group...

He chose not to overthink that for now and process the information the man had offered, first, and to answer his question. "Beyond us is only barren desert," he said, truthfully. "However... if the Risen are in the southwest from here, then that forms a problem. We have to head southwest from here, and..." he shook his head. "We have no time to detour."

"Even if we did," Vincent said, "We cannot spare a messenger to alert Lady Calderon's mages of that." He sighed while Lawrence cursed. If this guy put one and one together, their cover was blown. "We have no choice but to press on Southwest."

"We don't," Lawrence admitted, shaking his head. He then turned to the man. They were right... he could not risk him ratting them out. "Sir... perhaps it is best that you travel with us. While it is true we may be headed into danger, at least we are aware of this. With the Risen on the prowl, odds are a lone traveller may be caught in an ambush. Will you accompany us?"

Noah smiled almost imperceptibly. "Pay me no mind," he responded to the sickly-looking woman, "It's only natural for those who live by the sword to be suspicious." Though, that confirmed that they were not affiliated with the Plegian military. Her dialect, too, was different from his own, but it was also dissimilar to their apparent leader's.

Those next words gave him pause, however. Behind them, there was... nothing? That was worrisome at best, given the circumstances. They should have encountered at least a patrol... And the offer to join them only confused him further. He had no idea what to make of this, so he stayed silent for a while to align the facts.

Was he capable of trusting them? That was still unknown. Were they worthy of active distrust, however? No, he concluded. If they had wanted to do him harm he would most certainly be dead a dozen times over. Open hostility was thus out of the question. Going southwest... if that were true, they were heading...

"...Towards the capitol...?" He asked softly, as much to himself as to them. It was true that he needed to know what the king was doing, and given their behavior, aggressive or no, simply leaving him be was not actually an option in the first place. He had only one true choice, and luckily it seemed to align with his own purposes.

"All right," he answered finally, nodding. "If you would have me, I would pledge my services to you." He could see the doubt creeping into the adviser's eyes, so he continued. "Ah, you needn't worry about danger, sir. I can fight by your side, if that would prove my sincerity."

"If you are to fight by anyone's side," Vincent piped up, "It will be mine, rather than my lord's." Lawrence shot him a sideways glance. He knew what had gotten Vincent's goat- the man was capable of combat, and keeping him close to Lawrence would pose a threat of assassination. He suppressed the urge to shake his head, instead turning back to the Plegian.

"Very well. Sir, you will join our ranks and remain close by my lieutenant's side, where he can keep an eye on you." He smiled reassuringly. "I assure you, I have faith in your good intentions. But it would do the company morale good to have Captain Vincent assess your character before you join us formally. Additionally, he will guarantee your own safety." He held out his hand. "I listen to the name Lawrence, and I command this squad. How may I address you, sir..?"