“It has been observed that the undead army of Monte Del Trisse sport armors mostly unknown to most. A few historians and experts have identified ancient pieces dating back to the Second Era, but results currently remain inconclusive. Recommend further attempts to acquire such material for more in-depth examination.”

  - Inquisitorial Advisory, Desk of Senior Inquisitor Aalis

  A pale moon in the sky covered their approach towards the now fortress town of Etoile. Army barricades and spiked palisades dotted the once serene countryside. A network of trenches and other makeshift walls crisscrossed the land. Where the trees once stood, now nothing remained, all the wood diverted to military endeavors and the securing of infrastructure.

  Torches stood in a haphazardly arranged line along the main road, illuminating the oncoming path with a dull orange glow. Faint glints of light reflected off the few soldiers patrolling the roads, most of the others having already assumed positions at checkpoints or retired to their quarters. A few even cast suspicious glances at the convoy so suddenly rolling by. Their fears and that of the party’s was thankfully dispelled by the presence of the chevaliers accompanying them.

  Capitaine Fontaine’s knights had remained relatively quiet, only occasionally questioning Arnold or one of the inquisitors about their mission. Ironically, it was Arnold who ended up being the most open about everything, though the rogue held back his own fair share of information. The tale he spun danced deftly upon the line of truth and lies, but danced on it did. He claimed that Mila, the more senior of the inquisitors despite her adventuring gear, had asked and was granted an invitation from the new monarch. Sophie’s party were friends and trusted adventurers, whereas Arnold portrayed Runebound as veterans hired by the church for insurance as opposed to trustworthy friends.

  It surprised Sophie at how simplistic yet plausible his explanation was. According to Mila, the church had tried and failed an attack on the tainted lands before her own misfortune. Thus seeking understanding and reconnaissance wasn’t an outlandish idea. Furthermore, by dividing the convoy as the trusted few alongside additional support also helped explain the presence of Philippe and that there were two adventuring parties attached to this trip.

  Still, the chevalier remained naturally suspicious. Going past the militarized border and into what is affectionately also called the “Wall of Death” did not sound like the ideas of a sound mind. Indeed, Sophie could see the logic there, her only hope for that being that Arnold wasn’t playing any tricks and just wanted them to visit Annalise.

  Mila and Philippe, while maintaining a cordial interaction with the knight, mostly kept their mouths shut about their plans, much to the capitaine’s consternation. Only when Mila slowly retreated closer to Sophie’s wagon did he try once more. This time however, she rebuffed his attempt at conversation entirely.

  Sophie could see the pain behind Mila’s stoic visage. Whatever memories this place stirred up was amplified by the almost completely barren landscape around the town. There was a haunted flicker in her eyes, one that Sophie could feel perhaps more acutely than others. A gaze she had seen more than she wanted in the mirror.

  She wanted to ask if the inquisitor needed a moment, but she couldn’t, though she tried to convey the sentiment with a knowing look. They were now in uncertain territory, wary of the Gratian army just as their soldiers were wary of them. Whatever mood the party had been in before was now replaced by cautiousness. Even Elaria kept mostly to soft whispers with Raylani, the two keeping an eye on everything around them.

  The plan was simple, assuming that local authorities found no issue with it. For by Mila’s estimations, the town of Etoile was less than a half-day away from the border. They would stop here for the night and set off at the first crack dawn. In theory, there would be no problem. However, with the military occupying the surrounding countryside so intensely, Sophie wondered if there would be any room and board left to take within the town.

  “Arretez-vous! You stop!” A voice cried out from down the road, “Identify yourselves!”

  Upon hearing the gratian intonations, the chevaliers rode to the head of the convoy. Arnold and Philippe moved to join them, though strangely, in this instance, Mila did not. The girl elected to remain beside Sophie’s wagon, reluctance etched across her brow. The orc warrior remained by her side, completely nonchalant.

  Sophie looked to Mila for instructions, but the inquisitor just motioned for her to wait.

  “I am Capitaine Henri Fontaine, Order Of The Silver Stag.” The knight declared, “Nous avons fini la mission. We return from scouting with guests in tow. Le commandant should have been informed already.”

  “Capitaine!”

  Sophie could see a few soldiers gathered around a checkpoint opposite the chevalier. Upon his announcement of rank, a few of them immediately saluted. They then spread out around the convoy and slowly examined the wagons and guests. Whether it was luck, carelessness, or simply the fact that they had arrived with chevaliers in tow. The guards looked them over with wary glances but left it mostly at that.

  “We come with envoys of the church and their minders. Where is the commandant?” Capitaine Fontaine asked.

  “Maintenant? I think he is at the town hall, sir.” The soldier answered.

  “Merci.” The capitaine saluted before turning towards Arnold and the others, “Once the guards are done, you can park your transports by the town hall. We will go meet with the commandant.” He informed them.

  Arnold just nodded, prompting Philippe to do the same. Mila just bobbed her head slightly. Though Sophie now made out another worrying detail of the inquisitor. She’s sweating, tense.

  Sophie reached out of the cart to gently squeeze Mila’s hand. The inquisitor glared at her at first, letting out a hiss audible only to the two of them. But upon processing the gesture, her features softened. Her lips dropped the scowl she held, though not quite turning into anything close to resembling a smile. For Sophie, that was enough. She had gotten the message across, that Mila wasn’t alone, the rest of them were there for her too.

  Curious, Lucinia finally deemed the situation worthy enough to shuffle over by Sophie’s side. The girl’s sudden movements provoked an amused grin to appear on the inquisitor’s face. Sophie just stared at the traxian blankly, wondering what Lucinia wanted now.

  “Need something?” Sophie inquired with her own little smile.

  Lucinia haughtily shook her head, her arms crossed.

  “Just snooping.” She freely admitted and shrugged.

  “Oh… oh… huh.” Sophie was baffled by the direct response. Thinking that, perhaps the former royal would hide her intentions even for a little bit.

  “Seems I appeared too nervous.” Mila answered, “Sophie was worried there might be trouble. But the chevaliers and Runebound seem to have the situation well in hand.”

  “Oh. Swell. Does this mean we can finally get off the damned cart? The novelty of travelling like this wore off around the first hour.” She joked.

  “Pfft. Fair enough. I am a little sore.” Sophie chuckled, taking advantage of the small break from monotony.

  “Sore from doing nothing?” Mila teased, “Perhaps you should have rented a mount and rode alongside us.” She gently patted her horse.

  Sophie just smiled and shook her head, “Animals… don’t like me very much.”

  “Suit yourself.”

  “Oh, hoh, finally coming back to life are we? Been lookin' kinda pale the last few hours.” Elaria quipped from the front of the wagon.

  “Like I said, bd memories." She hissed then sighed, "Right now, though? Just waiting for them to get things sorted.” Mila tilted her head towards the front of the convoy.

  By Runebound’s wagon, Arnold and the soldiers were speaking in hushed tones with the capitaine occasionally interjecting. Judging by their movements at least, Sophie was relieved that nothing seemed overtly hostile. Likely a routine check, she reasoned.

  Her deductions proved correct when the small gathering broke apart and the parties respectively waved to each other. A satisfactory resolution, I suppose.

  Arnold tried to catch her eye before holding up a small thumbs up.

  “Wonder what’s got his spirits up?” Elaria mused out loud.

  “Alright! We have permission to keep moving. Let’s go!” Arnold announced a moment later.

  Elaria quickly jumped back into her seat and tapped Raylani on the shoulder, making sure the dark elf had caught the instructions. The assassin simply grunted, clearly uncomfortable with the idea of any attention being drawn to herself. Fair enough, I doubt the people here have seen dark elves either. Huh.

  A sudden jolt meant they were on the move once more. The group quickly shuffled back into their positions ensuring that they would be able to maximize what space there was for a sparse facsimile of comfort. Sophie felt her back ache the moment she settled back down. The wood creaked under her but she cared little. They had reached Etoile after all, and she wanted to lead by example. For the traxian had been far less restrained in this regard and had more often than not let out groans, grunts and exaggerated stretches to emphasize her current state of discomfort.

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  Ahead of her, the town of Etoile slowly came into full view. Unlike cities or ports, the tallest buildings here were no more than two or three stories tall. Rustic stone buildings with dark tiled roofs greeted them by poking over the thick stone walls that they hid behind. Soldiers and engineers were busy setting up a separate palisade wall beyond even the stoneworks. But with the chevaliers accompanying them, the convoy was now simply waved on through.

  There was no hustle and bustle, only a cold silent town. The streets were mostly empty, devoid of any enticing aspects common to large towns outside of cities. Only the clanking of armor or the hushed whispers of soldiers dotted around the streets disturbed the eerie silence. There was a tension here, the unease and anxiety of a people on the verge of something greater, like a pot of boiling water with the lid still on. It was shaking and wanted a release, and nothing was being done.

  They came to a stop in front of a bulky, almost aggressively so, building. Scratched stone facades and little uneven juts here and there suggested a lot of hastily refurbishments had been done to it. Whatever identity it had before didn’t matter, the town hall of this sleepy, unimportant Gratian town had now become a bastion in Gratia’s fight against itself.

  Halberdiers moved forward to receive Runebound and the chevaliers. A contingent of crossbowmen watched the party from the second floor balconies. Sophie glanced towards the end of the street. Though they weren’t boxed in or even being threatened, groups of soldiers here and there were prepared to jump in should the situation demand.

  “What a welcoming little town.” Elaria sarcastically drawled.

  Raylani glared at her, afraid of provoking tensions. The dark elf was keenly aware of how out of place she was though still having escaped general notice as of yet. Elaria just grinned and shrugged, much to her assistant’s dismay.

  Sophie reached over to offer a reassuring pat on the dark elf’s shoulder. Raylani was mildly startled but quickly replied with a stoic, if appreciative bob of her head.

  “Party leaders, church officials. If you would follow me.” Capitaine Fontaine announced.

  Elaria spun around and bopped Sophie on the nose.

  “That’s you. Have fun.” She teased.

  Sophie scowled but hopped off the wagon, her legs almost immediately wobbling from prolonged sitting. Beside her, Mila deftly dismounted from her horse. The inquisitor tried to put on a brave face, but her shoulders were scrunched up, trying to make herself smaller in comparison to the others. Her attention too, seemed to be distracted. Mila’s eyes darting all over the place.

  “Mila.” Sophie whispered.

  The inquisitor appeared briefly startled before recollecting herself. Her ever present scowl returning as she glared at Sophie. Sophie just smiled.

  With a grunt and a tut, Mila led the way and Sophie followed. The two joining Arnold and Philippe in approaching the town hall. A few more soldiers stood to the sides, their wariness now fading with the presence of the chevaliers leading them. Though Sophie couldn’t quite shake the unfriendly feeling that seemed to wash over her.

  Together, the party entered into a solemn stone hall. Worn marble flooring and ornate but aging walls greeted them. Using merely a glance, the capitaine was able to muster two of the guards to lead the way, moving the group up the central wooden stairway and onto the second floor. At the end of the landing, two chevaliers stood guard. Unlike the local troops or Gratia regulars, they wore their helms with visors down, their unreadable expressions making Sophie uneasy. Still, upon exchanging some hushed Gratian words with the capitaine, one of the chevaliers knocked on the door he was guard before poking his head through to inform the occupant of their arrival.

  “Entrer!” A hoarse voice called out from within.

  The guard saluted the capitaine before opening the door fully for the party to enter. Unlike the dull exteriors, they walked into a room that was covered in warm wooden tones. An ornate looking desk covered in stacks of paperwork and requisition forms. A small armor stand with what Sophie presumed was a different version of the chevalier’s armor. This one appeared even studier, likely also warded and treated by mages.

  At the table, a lean looking gentleman dressed in a silver blue uniform looked up expectantly from his post at the capitaine. The chevalier immediately saluted upon making eye contact, the others opting to offer little bows of greeting.

  “Capitaine.”

  “Commandant.”

  The two military men acknowledged each other.

  “I presume these are the guests?”

  “Oui. Two inquisitors and two adventuring parties. These are their respective leaders.” Fontaine stated.

  The commandant looked over the arrivals, giving little away from his lack of expression. After a moment or two, he grunted.

  “Some awfully young faces for a diplomatic mission into the dead zone.” He finally addressed them.

  They traded glances, settling upon Mila. The girl scowled a little deeper but stepped forward to bear the burden of responsibility. Though even with her hands behind her back, Sophie could see how she was anxiously balling them up into fists.

  “That is true, sir. But I was a former friend to the current monarch of Monte Del Trisse. I have received an invitation to visit and decided to call upon an additional representative of the church.” She motioned to Philippe.

  “Sir.” Philippe bowed reverently.

  “And your name, little friend of the monarch.” He sneered at the last words, his evident disdain for Annalise clearly written on his face.

  “Inquisitor Lyudmila.”

  “Lyudmila, huh?” He leaned back on his chair. The commandant drummed his fingers on the table, musing something before abruptly stopping. He then pointed to Philippe, “And you?”

  “Junior Inquisitor Philippe Roche, at your service.”

  “Junior Inquisitor? Then she’s an actual one?” He questioned.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Huh. Well how fortuitous, for that is a name I so happen to recognize.” He hummed.

  Mila stiffened up, and Sophie could also feel her own uneasiness grow. The tone of his voice suggesting something less than pleasant.

  “Sir?” Mila reluctantly asked.

  He ignored her query and rummaged through his desk before slapping a small letter on the desk. The seal upon it having been opened to indicate that someone had already read it. Mila instinctively stiffen up, but this time, so did Philippe.

  “I am Commandant Louis Duc de Belort, child of House Forvert, servant to the crown, appointed commandant of Etoile. Or just Commander Belort, or Commander Louis, if it’s easier in common.”

  “Commander.” The two inquisitors acknowledged.

  “You see this?” He pushed the letter forward.

  “I do.” MIla answered.

  “Then I assume you can predict its contents.”

  “Perhaps.”

  “Well?”

  Mila’s nostrils flared in dismay. She already knew.

  “Bishop Daimon of Mare’s Berth wrote to inform you that my venture is a danger?”

  The commander’s brow arched upwards, amused.

  “Vous-etes pres. Close. Look at the top.” He motioned towards it., leaning back in his chair.

  Mila stepped forward and paled. She cautiously reached over to pick it up.

  “Senior Inquisitor Aalis of the…” She mumbled the rest of the words incomprehensibly, her frown deepening with each passing moment.

  He didn’t engage, merely waiting until she was done. A tense silence descended upon the room, both Sophie and Arnold managing to share a glance. Both of them knew well enough to remain quiet in affairs of the church, but they were both reticent to voice their questions about the situation brewing in front of them. Only Philippe showed a flicker of annoyance, the junior inquisitor likely already understanding the situation.

  “Damned hells.” Mila inadvertently cursed.

  “Mmhmm.” The commander grunted, “C’est l’ordre l’arrestation. An order of arrest for rogue activities outside the church.” He casually explained to the adventurers.

  This is bad, she passed the message to Arnold, the rogue giving a brief nod of agreement.

  “Then…” Mila murmured.

  “You’ll be pleased to know I have no intention of complying fully and sending you back.” He declared.

  Mila let out a sigh of relief, but then froze when she saw he wasn’t done. Even Sophie felt an air of hostility slowly descend from the commander.

  “However, your mission to… visit the enemy, does prove troubling. And I will not have anyone breaching the cordon that we currently maintain nearby without orders from le general, my immediate superior. For your cooperation, I will deem this whole affair to be unnecessary information. Mais, but, you will need to remain here for a day while I send a messenger to inform him.”

  No one replied, a dark look crossing not Mila’s face, but Arnold’s.

  “But we have an arranged meeting time and date. With a royal, to be fair. For us to so suddenly change our schedule like this would be bad form.” Mila protested.

  “Hah!” The commander barked, “Bad form? C’est un traite! A Montroi, sure, but a usurper still, claiming land for herself against our rightful king and queen. While I have no doubt your… mission is righteous and correct. I still need to inform the theatre commandant. And that process will take a day to receive a reply, provided there is no trouble.”

  “I… but-”

  “Excuse me.” Arnold cut Mila off.

  The commander looked at him expectantly. Mila ceded the floor to him.

  “Who are you?” The commander demanded.

  “Arnold Rochsbach of adventuring party Runebound. If you don’t mind me interjecting.”

  “Proceed.”

  “I’ve worked within Monte Del Trisse before, a matter of ah… not leaving before the region turned, you see.”

  “Oh?”

  “The princess is quite the erratic persona. It would be best to meet with her on time.”

  The commander leaned in, his little smirk saying enough for Sophie. He has no intention of capitulating.

  “And why would that affect our calculus here? I see no difference if you meet her a day later or not. After all, for us, this is a matter of national security. You intend to breach the wall of death, of which my men are currently patrolling around. I cannot let their safety be jeopardized by a mission in which the general of the front is not informed. Comprenez?”

  “I… suppose… but still, I’ll tender my objection to this unnecessary delay and keep it at that.” Arnold surprisingly backed down.

  The commander appeared satisfied by this display and visibly relaxed his own posture, letting out a soft sigh.

  “Like I said earlier,” He motioned back to the letter still in Mila’s hands, “I have no intention to delay or detain you unnecessarily. But until I am certain of your abilities or objectives, I cannot allow the potential of my soldiers or civilians to be put in disadvantageous positions because of you.”

  “We understand.” Phillipe spoke up from behind the others, “I hope this matter can be resolved post-haste.”

  “As do I. Now, Henri.” The commander turned to the capitaine.

  “Oui?”

  “Aider a trouver un logement.” He commanded.

  “Oui, commandant.” The chevalier proudly saluted.

  “Capitaine Henri here will help you secure quarters. As a gesture of goodwill, the armee will cover any unexpected costs.” He addressed the others once more, this time with a more tired edge to his voice.

  “Thank you, sir.” Phillippe answered first.

  Gathering her senses, Mila followed soon after. “Thank you for the generous offer.”

  “Now, if there is nothing else. There is important work to be done. After all, I have message to send, non?”

  Without another word, the capitaine ushered the party out of the commander’s room. The man delivered one last hasty salute that the commander returned before they were shunted back out into the town hall.