Byron lay staring up at the ceiling in his rented room, replaying the movie and late lunch date with Kathy from the previous day. He'd enjoyed her company immensely, falling into a natural banter with her that made him feel more secure in his heart and mind than he had in a long time. He was, in a word, smitten. Of course, his timing couldn't be worse. They were on a mission here in Ether, a vital one. He would have to either go for broke or calm the hell down, because there wasn't time or chance for regular dating here.
He'd lay awake until midnight last night thinking about it. But with a fresh day came a fresh perspective; he'd let her take the reins. If he really wanted something more with her, he'd have to get used to not making unilateral decisions anyhow.
In her room, Kathy was thinking much the same thing, except that she was willing to look for opportunities for them to share some private time together. She would help the mission, but it would not keep her from what she suspected could be a superb relationship.
Kathy was the first one at the diner they'd agreed would be their first stop while in Ryalt from here on. She ordered coffee while she waited for the men, the first of whom to arrive was Daggeuro. He looked rushed as he sat down. "Everything all right," she asked.
"No. The statue museum in Linsa apparently was robbed yesterday," he said. "Thirty-two suits of armor just seem to have vanished. There was a night guard killed in the incident."
"Oof, that sucks," Kathy said.
"There's more," he said, signaling their waitress for a cup of coffee. Byron entered the diner then, dressed in camo pants and a plain brown shirt under his bomber jacket. He sat down next to Daggeuro, directly across from Kathy, offering her a friendly smile. Daggeuro continued, oblivious of the look the humans exchanged. "There's strange specter activity in the north, packs of various breeds traveling together southward. Rangers say that some of them are natural predators to one another, yet they aren't fighting."
"Weird," said Kathy.
"It started not far from Graymarsh, up near the border with Hailek. We ill need problems with them, but we may have to go north. Few things could frighten specters into running away from their territory like that, and The Chained One fits that bill."
"What's the deal with Hailek," Byron asked, nodding thanks to the waitress for his drink.
"It's a small nation, a military state governed by their Supreme Commander," Daggeuro said. "Their smithies make some of the finest weapons and armors in all of Ether, and they charge non-citizens an arm and a leg for their wares. They have no merchants; such folk are referred to as traveling quartermasters."
"War-like, I take it," Kathy asked.
"Not for a long time, actually, but their nation is bordered on the northwest by the Grim Flats, a vast territory lousy with specters. Nothing civilized can live there. Hailekians spend at least a quarter of their economic strength guarding that border from beasts."
The trio briefly ordered meals, then settled into light conversation about the movie Kathy and Byron had seen the previous day. Daggeuro found himself enjoying the back-and-forth the humans had, and it gave him hope. Perhaps this is what he needs to keep himself busy, the kennin thought. A budding relationship. Gods know a good one can keep a man busy.
Leroy Ferter sat in the smoky tavern's back corner, his hood drawn up, waiting for Wexler to come back. The moth-man had turned out to be a retired Watchman, one who still had friends here in Celia. Using air magic, he had flown to Celia, carrying Ferter like a bird of prey, in just a few hours. There, he rented a room in his own name, secreting Ferter there while he arranged for an old friend to meet with the human.
Wexler brought him here, to the Snake's Head tavern, an establishment favoured by the city's lizardmen. As he sipped at a light berry-flavored wine, Ferter saw the moth-man come in with an armored lizardman in heavy plate armor. They grabbed drinks and wove their way over to the human, sitting across from him.
"Leroy, this is captain Woodhead," Wexler said. "He used to be my commanding officer." Ferter offered his hand, but Woodhead gave him a curious look. "Um, lizardmen use their left." Ferter adjusted, shaking with the Watchman.
"Wexler tells me you've got something important to tell the King," said Woodhead, his voice hissing, reptilian. "What is it?"
"It's about the creature you've likely been hearing about lately," Ferter said quietly, using a conspirator's voice. "The Chained One."
Daggeuro, Kathy and Byron were on their way to the sundry goods store when Daggeuro stopped, drawing out the mirror from its pouch. It was emitting a kind of bell chime, and he brushed its surface. "I hear you," Daggeuro said, holding the mirror out parallel to the ground, so all three could see into it. On the mirror resolved the image of a frightened-looking plant-man.
"Sire, sergeant Paulson here, in Harish," the man said hurriedly. "My men patrolling the woods have spotted an enormous pack of undead coming towards town! We've been cut off from the Rangers, and, well, I just spotted a ghostwood tree north of the village's border. I remembered what you said yesterday, and thought I should get in touch."
"Yes, good work, sergeant," Daggeuro said. "Hold tight, we'll be there!" He waved the mirror and tucked it away. "We need to go," he snapped at Byron and Kathy. "Quickly, get your things and meet me at the Ether door! Hurry!" Seven minutes later, they were pelting down the corridor and into the chamber where sat Tsen Chuk, resplendent in his true form of a huge blue dragon, eyes narrowed at the trio. Kathy yelped at the sight of him, but Tsen smiled down at them with giant teeth on display.
"Unsettling, isn't it," he boomed as Daggeuro tugged on her cloak sleeve to get her moving again. Through another Ether door he pushed her and Byron, leading the way again moments later. When they came out the other side, it was into a room that reeked of stale alcohol. Several broken tables lay scattered about.
"Is this a tavern," Byron asked, snapping a card. With a flash his body was covered in thick ice armor, a sword of the same said magical substance in hand.
"Storeroom," Daggeuro replied.
"Wasn't Burke supposed to be dealing with undead stuff," Kathy asked, limbering her axe free of its holster.
"He is," Daggeuro said. "He's helping out west in Bursano, dealing with ghouls. The King never said he'd be helping with those undead raised by The Chained One."
"Should've been more specific," she grumbled, following Daggeuro out into the empty tavern. They got outside, and immediately Kathy felt her boots getting stuck in the swampy mud of Graymarsh. People were running about to their homes, presumably, except for one Watch sergeant, Paulson, coming toward them with spear in hand.
"Zombies," he gasped as he came to a stop. "They managed to turn three of my men. Dozens of them."
"Weapons," Byron asked.
"No, these are pure zombies, not revenants," Paulson said. "Each time we cut one down, though, they release some kind of vapor that knocks you out if you breath it in. Gotta be careful," he said, brandishing his spear. "The vapor only reaches a few feet."
"Byron, you're with Paulson's men," Daggeuro said. "Kathy, with me. Paulson, where's the ghostwood?" He pointed with one leaf-covered hand northward. "Kathy, hummingbird." She pulled out her little woode hummingbird, bringing it to life and attaching her sight to it, sending it north. As it neared the ghostwood tree, she saw that it was stationary and bare. She brought the bird figurine back and discharged it.
"It's not here," she said. "The tree's just a decoy."
"Damnation," Daggeuro spat. "Very well. Come on, we'll get our hits in on these zombies." The kennin High Knight led the humans into battle, Kathy making use of her axe to decapitate three zombies early on, covering her face with a bandana. Grim though she found it, she then used her power to control inanimate objects to raise the headless corpses and send them into the fray as her primary weapons, relying on her bow to keep more at bay.
Byron hacked and cleaved with almost wreckless abandon, though Daggeuro recognized skill in the young man. He wielded his ice sword like a katana, and the vapors were kept away from his face by tiny fans he had mounted to his ice armor's shoulder plates. Innovative, this one, he thought.
Within ten minutes the melee was over, the zombies all slain, heads destroyed. Kathy felt nauseated by her use of the corpses, but she'd had few other combat-ready options. She let them drop to the ground, methodically retrieving her arrows from undead brain pans. Byron's ice armor and sword winked out of existence, and he sat down hard in the mud.
"That was friggin' exhausting," he said. He drew out his cigarettes, starting to draw one out and stopping, tapping it back in. "Not you, not yet," he said. Kathy noticed he had it turned upside down, his 'lucky' smoke in the pack.
"Superstitious," she asked.
"In a land of fairies and monsters? You betcha," he said, taking a drag on another smoke from the pack. "So, we got played. Question is, how bad?" Daggeuro finished wiping off Bane, sheathing the black blade.
"I don't know," the kennin said. "Something tells me we'll find out soon enough."
Cassius Melchar had known of many great weapons in his life, both as a mortal and as The Chained One. They came in all shapes and sizes, made of every material one could lay hands upon. Even plants could be weapons, if mixed properly in a poison compound.
The chains that bound him had inspired him to craft new ones of magic over the centuries. Everyone was bound. The secret for him lay in discovering which chains people had willingly accepted in their lives.
Veli Durgen hung limp before him, his protective dome blackened on the outside to shield him from view. His subjects mostly came to pray to him without notice, but Durgen had piqued his interest. He had been the first to kneel, and it had not been merely fear that caused him to do so. The Chained One had seen the madness of worship in this one's eyes the moment his comrade had died.
Four of Cassius's chains were wound about the elf, one from each limb. The Chained One probed into his mind as the narrow man lay unconscious in his bindings. It found there fertile ground, and knew that it had found what it was hoping for.
"Awaken, Veli Durgen," The Chained One commanded. Durgen's eyes fluttered open, and he beamed up at his captor. "Are you prepared to serve my will in all things?"
"I am, my master," he said breathlessly. "Oh, I am ready!"
"There will be pain in this. You will have to harm those who called you friend or brother once. Do you accept this burden?"
"I do!"
"You shall receive a new name when this is over. Prepare for your rebirth." Crimson light flashed where the chains wrapped wrist and ankle, and smoke curled up as the flesh burned. Durgen thrashed and wailed, blazing agony roosting in his body. The chains ate through hair, skin, meat and blood, fusing with his bones. They slowly disappeared into the burn wounds, magically bound to his insides, until one-foot lengths protruded from blackened flesh, the crimson light fading, leaving only smoke and the smell of burnt flesh. Durgen fell limp for a moment before The Chained One set him down on the ground, standing tall, his eyes turned as black as the iron chains themselves.
The Chained One released his dome, floating ten feet over the altered elven man. He spread his arms wide and bellowed, "Gather here to me, my subjects! Gather and hear me!" The crowds of townsfolk who had sworn newfound allegiance to the creature huddled about, staring in awe at Durgen.
One man in the crowd looked round and said, "We are all here. What have you for us, lordship?"
"See you my new general, extension of my will! Step forth," The Chained One commanded Durgen. The elf took a step toward the crowd. "In my absence, he shall be your leader. His command shall not be questioned among you. All that he desires, you shall provide, as you would for me. This is my will!" The Chained One rose as high as his bindings would allow, and from his skeletal hands flew streaks of bright color, exploding in fireworks starbursts in the sky. "Behold, general Quintus!"
How badly the trio had been played, as Byron had posed the question, turned out to be pretty badly. Hailek troops had come rushing Harish village on the tear, believing the assault on their own Graymarsh village to have stemmed from Amermidst forces.
It had been Kathy who saved the two nations an international incident, running up to the approaching warriors with empty hands thrust upward, dropping to her knees between them and the Watch officers from Harish. They clattered to a halt, thirty-three heavily armored, weapon wielding men and women, destructive magics held at the ready in several hands. But her obvious supplication stopped them cold.
"Did you not send zombies against us," asked a tiger-man at the front of these troops.
"Look around," Kathy replied. "We had the same problem." They had, and now the top three ranking Hailekians sat at a round table with Daggeuro, Kathy, and Byron, all with strong ales set in mugs before them. The tiger-man, whose breastplate had been stamped with the word 'Amon', spoke for his troops as commanding officer.
"I am second lieutenant Amon," he said, his voice gruff and strong. "Commander of Tel-Nine. These are master sergeant Smythe," he said, indicating the bear faery on his left, "and tech sergeant Worth," indicating the elven woman on his right. All three wore white metal armor, like the rest of their countrymen. Even now, they kept their gauntlets on. "I speak for everyone when I say that I apologize for blindly accusing your people of attacking us. We're so cut off from the rest of the country, we tend to get a little paranoid."
"Forgiven easily, lieutenant," said Daggeuro. "I am Sir Daggeuro, High Knight of Ovin's court, Lord of the Watch-"
"I know who you are, and all of your needless titles," Amon blurted, cutting the kennin off. Kathy and Byron gasped in unison, the latter biting on his lower lip to keep himself from laughing aloud at Daggeuro's shocked expression. "You may spare me the theatrics," Amon added.
"I, um, yes," Daggeuro stammered, looking to Kathy, then Byron. "Something amuses you, Byron?"
"No, no, go on, dude," he choked out. "It's cool." He looked over at Kathy, who gave him the stink-eye, mouthing 'knock it off' at him. He composed himself quickly.
"As I was saying, there was no harm done," Daggeuro said, taking up his mug and raising it in a toast. "To good neighbors." Amon smiled and raised his mug to Daggeuro's, clinking.
"To good neighbors, huzzah!" The three Hailekians downed their ales in one long go, while Daggeuro, Kathy and Byron merely sipped the bitter brew. Amon belched potently, laughing with his sergeants. He shook his head and passed his mug to Smythe, who poured him another from their stein-pitcher. "We'll get going back home shortly. First, though, if the necromancer isn't here, where are they?"
Daggeuro spent the next half-hour telling Amon about The Chained One and its powers, as well as the threat it represented. When he was done, Daggeuro narrowed his eyes at Worth, the elven woman. "You've already heard of it, I take it," he said.
"Aye, she would have," said Amon. "Worth was born and raised her first thirty years in Rinchak. Her family emmigrated to Hailek two-hundred years ago."
"So you've surely heard legends we don't know of here," Kathy offered, signaling to Byron with a 'write this' gesture. He brought out his notepad and pen, eager to be helpful and get a scoop. "What can you tell us?" Byron wound up going through six sheets in his pocket notebook, but at least they believed it would be worth it.