“S,

  I hope this letter finds you well. But it seems my last shipment arrived early! How fortuitous! Beyond that, I will report that the farmlands are getting increasingly crowded as of late. Crows, ravens, even wild boars and the occasional goblin are beginning to be more bothersome. Unfortunately, we must be extra vigilant in our attempts to ward against the pests. No worries. It will be handled, though we do expect some minor bumps on the path, so to speak.”

  - Encrypted Letter On Desk Of Senior Inquisitor Serilda.

  The group stuffed themselves into a dingy little inn bedroom, Sophie’s to be precise. Thanks to the intercession of hte chevaliers, they had managed to rent out three rooms of an already relatively full inn. One for Philippe and the templars, including the orc thankfully. One for Runebound, and one for The Lily Knights. Of which Elaria just swore that nothing would happen between her and Raylani during the night, much to the dark elf’s embarrassment. Though given the tense atmosphere in the room now that they were gathered, Sophie somehow suspected that their stay here wouldn't be long.

  “So, any of you mind explaining what that was all about?” Sophie directed her question at the inquisitors and Arnold, “I was under the impression that we’d at least try a little harder to negotiate.”

  Arnold furrowed his brow, “Of course. But come on, we both knew he wasn’t going to change his mind.”

  “I know. So why did you look so panicked, if you already knew?”

  “Might I also question the comment about the princess’s ahh, ‘erratic behaviour’ comment that you made?” Philippe added.

  “Sounds like quite a few things got discussed.” Elaria chimed in.

  “Aye, a lot did. And the reason why I was… concerned, is precisely because I’ve worked with her majesty before. She has… grown temperamental as of late. As for us all, you two especially,” Arnold eyed Sophie and Elaria, “She has been exceedingly eager to meet the two of you. Also that she has waited for almost a year. The idea of a delay, I fear. Might cause her to act with a loosened level of restraint, shall we say.”

  “What does that mean?” Mila demanded.

  Arnold sighed, “It means i fear that she will initiate an attack on the bordering regions.”

  “What?! Why would she do that?!” Mila snarled, her barely contained fist already at the ready.

  “Easy, easy, just speculation.” Arnold tried to reassure her.

  “No, explain.”

  “That’s… you know that I’ve kept in contact with Lady Montroi using letters?” He sheepishly smiled.

  “So?”

  “I might have informed her about our travel plans while we were at Mare’s Berth.”

  “Ah…” Philippe dejectedly sighed.

  “What?” Mila turned towards him.

  “He’s already told them about the places we’ll pass by and the time we’ll spend in them. I presume a courier that we didn’t even know about.”

  Mila’s eyes closed as the realization hit her, “So she already knew our every move? Since when?” She let out the last words with a defeated rasp.

  “Aye. You know I can’t divulge that.” Arnold spoke once again, “Look, I won’t disparage her, but let’s just say a delay at this juncture when she’s not in the best of minds, might seem like we’re being halted or detained. Add to it that she’s a hair bit paranoid.” He paused, trying to let her draw her own conclusions from the statement.

  “...” Mila did not reply at first, only exchanging looks with the others in the room.

  But Sophie could tell what they were thinking. Grim looks that came to the same conclusion.

  “So she’ll attack.” Mila finally answered.

  Arnold solemnly nodded, “Aye. That’s my assessment too.”

  “Well shit.” Philippe uncharacteristically cursed, “I take it that would mean an extension of the death wall?”

  “Or worse. She might send out her knights.” Mila added, unable to meet the others glance. She paused then gestured for the orc.

  “The warmaster and I have faced them in battle before. Formidable foes. We travelled with a small troop and two more given to the warmaster by the warchief. All but five of us survived.” The orc answered.

  “How many of the original?” Philippe asked, “Original reports say you absconded with about a hundred and fifty odd troops.”

  Mila looked away, “That’s about accurate. A potomian unit and some locals. Nothing more.”

  “And just one of the death knights?”

  “Just one and his band of lesser undead.”

  “Fuck me.” Philippe cursed once more, “And how many do you think your princess will send?” He asked Arnold.

  The man shrugged, “I honestly have no idea, inquisitor. Normally, to retaliate against incursions, it’d be a warband at most. But this… she has, I would describe as beyond keen interest regarding Sophie and her sister there. Enough that she even sent us halfway across the world to make sure she gets here.” He candidly replied, “The fact that she granted us the extra months until now to get Sophie here without telling us to outright kidnap her is already an almost inconceivable display of patience. I doubt she has much more left. Though if it helps at all, I doubt she'd expand the magical barrier any further than it already is.”

  “Oh, count me so relieved." Philippe sighed, "So what’s our plan?” He asked, glancing at Mila.

  The girl shrunk a little, “How should I know? Last time I got almost everyone killed.” Her voice almost cracked.

  “That’s… sorry. My bad.” Philippe hastily apologized.

  Mila’s nostrils flared but she managed to maintain a modicum of composure. Sophie cautiously shuffled closer to offer her support to her friend. This time, Mila didn’t flinch or react, just passively letting Sophie grab her hand.

  “So what do you propose?” He redirected the question to Arnold.

  “Honestly? I would prefer to meet her as scheduled by noon tomorrow. But with the delays already, we’ll likely arrive a half day late the next day already. So if you’re asking me, I would prefer if the commander’s messenger is a fast rider.”

  “Depends on the urgency in his delivery.” A gravelly voice interrupted.

  Lucinia almost gasped and even Sophie was a little startled. One of the templars had finally spoken directly to the group after their almost two days spent together.

  “Pardon?”

  “He’s sending a messenger to his commander, right?” The templar prodded.

  “Right. To the theatre command.”

  “Stars above, you think theatre command will have time to authorize permission? Look around us, Gratia’s on the brink of restarting a war. I doubt they’ll have time for grunts like us, pardon my words.”

  “Speak freely templar.” Philippe casually motioned, “If you have any ideas, feel free to share then.”

  The older man just shook his head.

  “Nothing that comes to mind.”

  His partner, still silent, also shook his head.

  “Well that’s great.”

  A small lull overtook the room. The stuffy, overcrowded place taking its toll on their concentration and ideas. Worse still, for fear of eavesdroppers, the window remained closed, trapping in their day’s travel odors with them.. Sophie wrinkled her nose in annoyance just as an idea came to her.

  “We could always just sneak out.” Sophie suggested.

  A mirthful twinkle appeared in Elaria’s eye, her sister’s penchant for mischief rising to the occasion, “We could.” Elaria quickly affirmed.

  “What and spit on the hospitality that they’ve paid for?” Philippe motioned vaguely in the direction of the inn.

  “Or risk a needless conflict.” Mila defended them.

  “And just how are we going to breach the death wall, anyways?” He questioned.

  “I have a way.” Arnold added.

  Everyone looked at him but he just smirked, “Look. Runebound’s secret. None of your concern, sorry inquisitors.”

  “Heretic.” Both Mila and Philippe grumbled.

  But with their hushed complaints, the templars took it as tacit approval and did not act on the matter. At least, not yet. Sophie had heard from Mila about how the barrier had given the church and the local forces trouble before, she could easily envision a scenario where they fought with Runebound for the method to break open the barrier. Though none of their temperaments suggested the likelihood of that scenario transpiring was low, it wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

  “I mean. We would still be a little late given how slowly we travelled under… ah, generous escort.” Arnold tried to add some calm back into the discussion, “But yes. You don’t have to worry about getting in or out. I will have that handled.”

  “If it stops innocent people from getting hurt, then I think we should do.” Sophie reiterated her idea.

  A few grunts circled the room. Stating the idea was easy, how to break out of military town with everyone alive and supplies intact was another concern entirely.

  “Now that we’ve all simmered down a notch. Let’s come up with something we can feasibly do that hopefully doesn’t involve decimating this town ourselves.” Lucinia added her support to Sophie’s side.

  “Right. Fighting everyone isn’t exactly an optimal outcome. However much our resident idiot likes to do it.” Elaria teased.

  “Hey.” Sophie squawked indignantly.

  “May we hope she notes that fighting isn’t always the solution.” Lucinia joined in.

  “Wha-?” Sophie was taken aback by the sudden betrayal.

  “She has a penchant for combat?” Philippe asked, at least he held a genuine gaze of curiosity, "Reports note some of her achievements but they seem a little... far-fetched, if you don't mind me saying so."

  “She’s fought demons and the like before. Undead too. I’d wager that aside from your templars and Marduk here, she could probably serve as a close combat lynchpin, or at least a decent distraction.” Mila answered him.

  “I can do that.” Sophie asserted, just glad that it was a normal suggestion and not a sudden jab at her.

  “Alright. So I think to break out, we definitely need a distraction element. For that, we’ll need to consider two things; ability to escape, and ability to distract. Of that, I think we have two stellar candidates here.” Mila glanced at Sophie and the orc.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Sophie tried not to let her wariness at having to work with the orc show. The orc on the other hand, just responded to Mila with a guttural grunt.

  “Then comes the supplies. Runebound and The Lily Knights will handle all the wagons. Same riding arrangements, especially since we need to make sure the noncombatant doesn’t get involved.” She glanced over at Lucinia.

  The princess bristled at being so casually dismissed, though she kept her retort contained, knowing that there was some truth in that. She had little to no combat skills, and throwing her into danger would be a less than ideal option.

  “Efficient. I have no objections.” Arnold approved.

  “Aye, works for me. Though I can also lull the guards with a song if need be.” Elaria spoke up.

  “Perhaps.” Mila hummed.

  “But if the wagoners needed a quick witted speaker who appears the least threatening then you’d fit the bill, so to speak. Besides, I’ve seen the way your attendant moves. She’s not just a mere dancer, is she?” Philippe countered.

  “True enough.” Elaria just smirked, “Then fair enough, I’ll stay with the wagons, though I’ll probably take a horse from one of your party, if they don’t mind sitting in the wagon.”

  “We’ll be fine.” Arnold nodded, “You should take point though. The blackhats right, you’re definitely the prettier one out of us two. Though I’m a fair bit handsome myself.”

  Sophie suppressed a groan at the shameless statement, but Elaria didn’t seem to mind.

  “Fine then, we’ll be the wagon crew. What about you lot?” The bard turned to the inquisitors.

  “That’s the harder question.” Mila grumbled.

  “Aye. Technically we are actually here on official business. Though Marduk over there is considered an auxiliary to Lyudmila’s retinue so not technically under our employ. Lyudmila herself is also however, fortunately and unfortunately, still an official member of the church.” Philippe explained.

  “I also act as my mistress’s representative.” She sent a threatening glare at both Sophie and Lucinia, “Thus I cannot act with complete abandon.”

  “Well that’s unfortunate.” Elaria sighed.

  A soft drumming against wooden drew the room’s attention. Lucinia’s lips were pursed into a frown, her brows knit together deep in thought. She narrowed her eyes at Mila and Philippe before nodding to herself, mumbling something under her breath.

  “Something to share?” Philippe prompted.

  “Maybe. But not sure you’d agree to it.” Lucinia replied.

  “Won’t know until we know.”

  “You four could disguise yourselves, civilian clothes, no armor or adventuring gear but some symbol of rank and authority. Sophie and the orc will need a ride ready when they do whatever they need to. That’s for two of you. Then if there’s any trouble on the road, inquisitorial rank might buy us enough time if we’re faster than the city’s messengers and riders.”

  “A possibility to be sure.”

  “Risky though.” Mila agreed.

  “We’re already planning to break out of a military town, what wouldn’t be?” Lucinia rolled her eyes.

  “Your glibness is noted.”

  “I still have more ideas, if you need them.”

  “By all means.”

  “Well, if any of you have taken any cultural lessons before, you’d all know that the Gratians are quite honor bound by their code of chivalry. Or whatever it's actually called.”

  “Meaning the capitaine will be hounding us.”

  “Correct. Accomplish one's task to the ends of the world or something of that sort." Lucinia dismissively hand waved the issue, "But that we can turn it around here. Their culture is strict but exploitable. Unlike the flexibility elsewhere, they consider their names and honor important. Convince him of the righteousness of our cause, provoke him to prove his devotion and demonstrate our resolve in honorable combat. Of whom I believe, can be represented by, coincidentally, two stalwart fighters in our rank.” She looked towards the distraction team.

  “A fight.” Marduk snickered, “Fine.”

  Sophie just quietly bobbed her head.

  “And if you’ll praise me afterwards, I’ll even share another bit I just thought of me.” Lucinia bragged.

  “Pfft. Go on.” Elaria interjected before anyone else could.

  “Us two, half of theirs, and maybe you.” She pointed at Mila, “We go along to watch.”

  “But wouldn’t that expose us?” The inquisitor queried.

  “Let me finish, blackhat. Second, the sneakier lot,” She traded looks with Arnold and Raylani, “Sneak out to grab the wagons and horses. Meet the other blackhat and templars halfway, then out the city. While they’re moving, those of us watching slowly leave, pretend we’re heading back but go over to mount up. We’ll need a meeting point established to be fair. But then Mila and one of the templars guides an extra horse back for our duelists. Win or lose, we leave then. We’ll need s second rendezvous to happen and a point outside of town, if anyone knows any.” Letting out a relieved sigh, the princess finished her speel and leaned back on her chair. To her delight, the room seemed to be quickly filled with hesitant but affirming nods.

  “Not bad for an on the spot plan.” The bard teased.

  “Goddess knows I need to be good at something.” She retorted before deflating, “Still, we’re none to familiar with this region and-”

  “I have a solution there.” Mila interrupted, “Sorry, Lucinia.”

  “Too late now.” She scoffed, but the traxian surrendered the floor.

  “There’s a tavern by the east gate. The Wounded Lion, I remember seeing it when… I was due to leave this town the first time around. Ask a local, they can direct you there. I can direct the others.” Mila instructed.

  She paused to check the room, no complaints so far.

  “As for outside of town…” She let out a deep sigh, something which the orc seemed to pick up on.

  “Warmaster.” He grumbled.

  She furtively bobbed her head.

  “There is a ruined village. A consequence of our first defeat. If we go past a crossroad outside of the gates where a windmill stands in a field and take a left turn through the farms to the north, we shall reach it. It is doubtful that people have resettled it since then.” He continued.

  “Little need for the military to guard a ruined village too.” Philippe murmured, “Not bad.”

  Arnold let out a hearty laugh and clapped his hands with mockery and delight in equal measure, “Hah! I can’t believe it. An actual plan. Quite a resourceful lot, you are.” He chuckled. “Well then, if I may make one addition. We'll all quickly clean ourselves off, eat, spend an hour recuperating from the day’s travels. It’ll throw off suspicion too. Then… then I guess you two start riling things up and the rest of us get ready for a breakout.” He grinned.

  Despite being allies, Sophie found it unsettling. But a plan was plan, and they now had their way out of the city. One that would hopefully see them to their destination without needless casualties for anyone.

  Out of everyone, Elaria was the most relaxed of them all. Her sister’s natural skills with music and song captivating even the weary soldiers that were spending time at the inn. The others were split mostly between cautious and disquieted. Sophie herself was nervous. Her previous run-ins with the Arterian authorities had been less than pleasant. Her only saving grace during the trial was her sister exposing the case to the public, and an intercession by the portly church oraetor who seemed to hold quite a bit of sway. Here, they were ostensibly operating on their own.

  The one who mimicked her own fidgeting was the other mastermind behind this terrible plan, Lucinia. The former princess poorly disguised her concern by having nursed her mug of mixed juices and spirits for well over half an hour. Sophie didn’t interrupt her though, she knew that the stark change over the past months from being a full fledged member of the imperial family to shuffling about as an adventurer was a change almost as dramatic as her own kidnapping from the Rosengart estate.

  It had taken her a long time to get used to the sudden shock of things, though the rabid undead present in the Mistveil certainly accelerated the pressure to adapt a lot more than expected. Stars, she sighed to herself, and here we are, marching into the land of the dead. Hopefully things go well enough that she can still feel fine. Goddess only knows how I must’ve run about the place like a headless chicken.

  An uproarious cheer resounded from the other end of the inn, a round of applause and yells soon following. Sophie took in a deep breath and turned around, time’s up.

  “Thank you! Thank you! Your cheers and praise are more than enough to sustain me, though some coin would always be a welcome contribution!” Elaria laughed, “But I am delighted, truly, by this strange land to me. I have performed for the empire, so martial and militaristic, their own tunes sounding more like military drills than songs, pah!”

  The gathered crowd of patrons and off-duty soldiers let out a rambunctious jeer. Dissing the Traxian empire was something most people in neighboring countries found common ground in. It was no different here.

  “Then on distant frontiers, near and far. The resplendent markets of Ostria, marked by a proud spirits and good cheer. To the dozens of taverns dotting all across Arteria, the heart of the continent. All have shown the soul of their people and here, I find you no different.” She theatrically waved her arms about on stage.

  The crowd hollered some more, having found themselves enchanted by the strange new bard in their midst.

  “For here in Gratia, I can feel your sorrow.” She softened her voice.

  A hush settled across some of the patrons, her words bringing them back to reality, away from their little escape from it.

  “Yet, despite the realm being ripped apart, the struggles that each of you bear upon your shoulders trying to repair it in one way or another. I also found another part of the Gratian soul. A calling, a steadfast voice that never leaves the people here. The power of honor. Honor in your roles, your duties, and honor in your causes. Honor for the nation, but most importantly, honor for thyself.”

  Low murmurs of agreement followed her proclamation. Though the audience was now a little uncertain where she was going with this act. Sophie and the others however, knew their own roles to play. With all eyes on her, the inquisitors and templars slipped out unnoticed.

  “So what say you, merry people of Gratia? For I have in my mind, a song that is swaddled by truth itself. A tale of defiance and loss, the horrors of war and the countless sacrifices along the way. But in them, the meaning of honor, justice, and strength. For in those darkest of moments, of horrors beyond imagining, that is where the forges of our destiny are to be found. Where we learn of the resilience of a soul, the uneasy path to righteousness, and the choices we must make. A tale worthy of song. How about it?” Elaria proudly beat her chest.

  The crowd regained their spirit and roared out their opinion. They were mostly inebriated and if not that, then curious and delighted by the bard. Both wanted more and Elaria was all too happy to provide.

  “Then hear ye, one and all, a tale from me to you, the honorable people of Gratia. A tale of one near and dear to me, of a lost little lamb who rose to be a heroine in her own right. The tale of Sophie Kastiane, the maiden maid!”

  Drawn in by her enthusiasm the crowd eagerly cheered her on even more vigorously. Out of the corner of her eye she spied the chevaliers listening, caught within the moment. The first part of the trap had been sprung, there would be no backing down now.

  “Come all you who would hear me, brave ones and all

  Now let me sing you the tale of a girl who yearned to be free,

  Alone against the odds, she persevered,

  Taken from home, left lost and alone!

  A soul so small, innocent and afraid,

  Forged into a warrior and away she goes!”

  Elaria began to sing, strumming along and slowly moving across her little podium.

  “This young maid of Rosengart, did once live in splendor,

  But her life was that of a servant of a home,

  Loved by none but the young lady whom she found as a friend.

  Yet fate conspired to take her away from this land she had known…”

  Away the bard sang, capturing crowd by soul and by song. They found her rhythm and tried to clap along. A smattering of stomps, slams and chortles now filled the inn’s room. Amidst the chaos, the members of Runebound slinked away, Sophie managing to share one last glance at Lucinia as the traxian’s shoulders sagged in relief. That left herself, Marduk the orc, and Elaria here.

  “So this young little lassie picked up a blade and undead did she slay,

  By sword and by fire all hordes she cut down,

  But friends and comrades, fell all around her,

  Her heart now filled with sorrow and hate!”

  So she continued. Sophie shuffled uneasily in her seat. No one knew who she was yet, but Elaria’s song would only go so far before a challenge was issued. One that she would have to try to live up to.

  “To save a whole city the champion made a choice,

  Her soul, now stained, she wore sorrow like a cloak.

  And a God she struck down atop a tower of gold

  All to place a prince back upon his rightful throne.”

  Sophie winced hearing those lines. She still vividly remembered the moment she cracked the defensive stone in Castle Melisgrad. The monsters and horrors that she unwittingly unleashed upon the precious few survivors of the city. She looked down to her blade, it was different, the lion’s roar still back in her room in the Academy. A blade earned through the death of a prince who truly cared for his people, one she got killed when the tower of Melisgrad collapsed underneath them.

  Then Elaria continued singing, of the frosts and mountains. Then of seashores and backwaters. Sophie could almost see her journey from her sister’s words. Gradually she relaxed, the unpleasant verses overwritten by the few pleasant memories she dug out from within them. The times she spent with Ary, the friends and comrades she had met along the way.

  The song turned into more of a lamentation, the tragedies that befell Arteria, her attack on the mines and the subsequent betrayal by the authorities. The cheery mood in the tavern darkened and many of the soldiers jeered when Elaria sung about the trial and the condemnation she face, even more so when she detailed how the Braveskulls escaped justice. Some even roared their anger, their sense of justice and empathy wrenching at their heartstring.

  “So it is that this sad tale comes to an end,

  A song of my sister and the horrors she faced,

  A knight in her own right and to many, a friend,

  Who sits there now a of whose presence we are graced..

  So it is with a tankard that we honor her struggle,

  The fine little lass there who stood against evil,

  Who even now has much to juggle,

  A defender of the meek in this time of upheaval!”

  Elaria finished with a glorious flourish, her arm outstretched and pointing to Sophie.

  Sophie tried to calm herself once more, well that's one way to introduce someone. Let's just hope I live up to her tales.