Yule
Camp for the Order of the Golden Warriors
"Their sacrifices in life saved many a soul. Keldanis' sons and daughters live another day because of the actions of these brave soldiers. Gods, we ask you to grant these soldiers mercy as they arrive in your domains. Let them bask in your radiance forever more." Father Yieros spoke to the crowd of gathered soldiers, his head bowed low in reverence to the gods. The service for the fallen soldiers who protected Beldeth as the villagers fled was a mere token of tribute to their honor and bravery, or so they said.
Certainly, those soldiers died glorious and honorable deaths, but that did not mean Yule particularly liked attending their service. Some form of social obligation required him to attend. They were the ones who had found the bodies. At the state that they were in, even if Father Yieros had been a priest of renown, it would have been near impossible to bring them back from the dead. All those supplies spent on reviving Yule and the rest may have helped, but Yule severely doubted it. The charred husks they had found had only been recognized as form people simply by the shredded armor that clung desperately to the bones. The demon had eaten its fill and then some. The rest of the flesh had been incinerated.
Still, six soldiers was a sad loss for the army. Acceptable, and maybe even expected, but still sad. The camp had stoically retrieved the bodies when they had informed them of where they lay. Hours later, they had prepared their fallen members for rest with honors. It was fascinating how much Keldanians revered a corpse.
That sounds crude, perhaps, but Yule was looking from a Jeyan point of view. The corpse of man is but one final resource to be used. The fact that Keldanians refused to understand this fundamental fact was a mystery that perpetuated the cycle of mistrust and vague hostility between the two nations. Their mistrust of the relatively tame art of necromancy limited them. It was a miracle that defied logic that Keldanis remained Jeya's equal.
Hmph.
This entire experience has been quite educational on said miracle. These soldiers were… well… he would have a difficult time facing several of them at once. Yule was by no means a powerful archmage, but he was no apprentice either. Regardless, they were well-trained and coordinated. Even Eldrig showed a surprising amount of competency.
Not to mention the Golden Warrior. What an enlightening encounter that had been. Faith in the divine was such an illogical thing, and yet it could create such a powerful being that could likely rival some masters of magic. Yule was humbled by the exposure as much as he tried not to show it at the time. And they supposedly had dozens of such beings? The thought sent shivers down his spine. Luck would have it that they were mostly tied up defending the Dusk Wall.
"-elllllllooooo? Yule?" He blinked. Runner was waving a hand in front of his face. "The service is over. You gonna keep staring at nothing or are you gonna come to the debrief?"
After sleeping at the ruins, a rest they all desperately needed, they had simply packed up and headed back. Upon their triumphant arrival at the camp the next morning, there was a lot of hubbub from the displaced villagers. The group had been pestered with questions about homes and missing loved ones, questions that Eldrig insisted would be answered in due time. None of them particularly wanted to be the ones to say "All gone and dead!" to a bunch of grieving folk. The group got themselves patched up by the medical staff, who were well exhausted themselves at this point. After that, they got cleaned up the best they could. Yule always smelled slightly of smoke, the side-effect of being a pyromancer, but he was not a fan of the sulphuric stench that battle had caused. Their debrief had been delayed by Eldrig, who had insisted they get something to eat. And then the service happened so that got pushed back further.
"Yes, yes I am coming," He said, turning away from the shrouds. Gleaming gold and white, much like the rest of Keldanis.
"Good. For a minute there I thought I would have to get Ina to carry you."
"That is… what? Why?"
"Because. Would be funny. Also, you dropped this." Runner handed Yule his missing Fontwell pen. He had nearly abandoned hope in looking for the magical writing utensil for fear it was lost to the winds. He raised a brow to the rogue. She simply shrugged and looked away. "You should be more careful with your stuff, never know who has sticky fingers."
"Of course. And would I be speaking with an expert?"
The comment shattered the nonchalant attempt at handing back the device without incident. Runner had the gall to look irritated for a moment, her brows furrowing the same way they did whenever Selm opened her mouth. "I-I didn't-"
"I am notoriously tidy, Runner. I do not just lose my expensive tools. Not to mention you practically gave yourself away with your comment. I suggest that, next time, do not steal from a mage. You are lucky I feel indebted to you." Runner had saved him some pain from a surprise gnoll attack, after all. He was willing to overlook this, and a few other small things.
"Urgh, I didn't want you to notice. I mean, how was I supposed to know you were a total neat freak? Eshah! I didn't mean to take it either!" She clapped her hands over her mouth, her eyes going wide. They looked down at her hands and then back up to Yule.
He tilted his head quizzically. "Did not mean to… what? Steal the pen?" She hesitated before nodding. "Of all the curious excuses, that is the first I have heard someone say they accidentally stole something. It is not like this is a store you can simply walk out of holding merchandise."
Runner grunted, her hands falling to her sides. Her fingers were never still, always fiddling with her pants or her belt or themselves. "That was the truth. It's… a long story."
By the infernum, she actually looks guilty, Yule puzzled to himself. This was growing ever more curious. Kleptomaniacs existed, but to find one in Keldanis was a rarity. From what Yule knew, they usually chopped fingers off for stealing, sometimes even hands and arms for repeat offenders. Her hands were still intact, if not bandaged.
Baz's voice interrupted their conversation, much to Runner's relief. "Ye comin?" The half-orc shouted. The rest of the group was waiting with Eldrig. Inathia was gnawing on a loaf of hard bread and Selm was massaging her throat idly.
"Yup! Let's go!" Runner said, scurrying away from Yule before he could get another word in. He sighed. As curious as this was, it would be nowhere near enough for his goal.
He followed behind the rest as he bitterly was reminded of what his goal was here in the holy lands. Nothing so far had been of such importance that it would satisfy them. Nothing… except that skull.
Whatever it was was important. He could briefly feel the intensity of the dense magical aura it contained, however briefly it was exposed. The precautions taken to secure it, yet the shoddy transportation of it half-told its shady past. Someone had been trying to smuggle it somewhere, using Jonesy as a likely unknowing pawn.
For a mage of such a caliber as that elf to descend upon them with an army of infernal skeletons and three whole demons spoke measures to Yule. It told him that she was being thorough to not leave any witnesses and that the skull was of dire importance to her. She had called it the "mother of her master", which meant that she wasn't even the one fully in control. The thought of an archmage(for that is just how powerful he estimated that woman to be) with such ill intent gave him an uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach.
That could be a problem in the future.
But it was not a problem for now. For now, their primary problem was their debt and getting out of it. For as long as Yule remained shackled to the Keldanian military, he would not be making progress on any noteworthy discoveries.
"We will be discussing some things later," Yule decided, addressing the group. He kept the intention vague, but he was sure that they all were aware of what needed to be discussed. The rather untouched incident that had landed them in this hot mess. They needed to discuss it in its entirety. What it was, who did it, and what the future holds for them. The Order has been keeping them in the dark about it, or they simply have no idea. Yule was not about to kid himself into thinking that if they did know, they would tell him.
With solemn nods from almost everyone, even Runner who grimaced at the pointed look he gave her, he felt satisfied. Perhaps there were some details that Yule missed during the chaos. Perhaps there was something someone was keeping hidden. When all the pieces were put together, only then would the puzzle be complete. Sadly, Yule did not have a convenient guide to know what pieces went where. He typically enjoyed a good puzzle, but this one had deadly consequences. It already nearly claimed his life. It was unquestionable that it could do so again.
"I have a question," Inathia asked Eldrig.
"Y-yes? What-what can I help you with?"
"How come you are always around us? Do you not have any friends?" Were it not for the oblivious honesty with which Inathia asked the question, Yule would have thought she was trying to insult the leonin or even pick a fight.
Selm chastised the dragonborn as Runner snorted. "Inathia! That is rude!"
"Oh. Sorry…"
"N-no it's fine? I am us-used to it. I have s-some friends. He-here and-and there." Eldrig's tail drooped even with the reassurance he gave Inathia, but quickly perked back up. "I consider y-you all bud-budding friends, to be fair. Unless that is not okay? Um… is it okay?"
"Well, I suppose we are friends? I haven't had many, so I wouldn't know," Inathia said aloud, looking upwards to the afternoon clouds.
"Yes Eldrig, I believe we can be… friends," Selm articulated. Her tone sounded like she herself was unfamiliar with the term.
"Allies is a better term… but you are interesting in your own ways, Eldrig." Yule had to give credit where it was due. The knight was competent, a trait Yule valued highly.
"Oh cmon… that's the best you can do? You're alright," Runner grumbled, elbowing the mage and addressing Eldrig. Baz simply grunted in affirmation.
The leonin looked positively elated, his tail swinging wildly at this point. A big dopey grin plastered across his face as he nodded to himself in glee. "To an-answer y-your question, it-its because i-if I am n-not monitoring y-you th-then I am either tr-training or b-bird watching. I f-figured I should s-socialize w-with the pe-people I am t-tasked with watching over."
"I suppose that is fair. Question answered."
Yule just shook his head. Where in the world did this girl learn her people skills. Yule was aware that he was reclusive and blunt(a true scholar at heart, he found people often irritating), but not to this weird extreme. At least Inathia was sincere enough for people to not take offense. His mind momentarily wandered to a few decades back, when he was a fresh-faced apprentice caught unaware of the social aspect of school.
Eugh. Bad memories.
"This ain't the Lieutenant's tent," Baz remarked to Eldrig, who had brought them to the central ring of important tents in the camp. Indeed, this tent was not the same as the command tent that they had been brought to when they first woke up. Instead, this tent was rather unremarkable. It was the same cloth as all the other tents and was not particularly large in any dimension. Perhaps big enough for them all to stand with a few inches between their shoulders, should they stand side by side.
"T-that's r-right. Y-your summons are h-here. U-uhm…" The knight turned and faced them all, that happy nature fading into serious professionalism that they had not seen in him since the meeting with Golden Warrior Mivera and Lieutenant Isomeren.
"P-please head my warning h-here. W-what happens in th-this tent must r-remain a secret."
"Right…?" Runner said suspiciously.
"A-and I beg of yo-you… be p-polite!" His warning was reminiscent of the one the guard at the command tent gave them. Coming from Eldrig, the warning somehow held more weight than before.
"We will do our best, Eldrig. Please, lead the way," Selm said. She narrowed her eyes at Runner and Inathia, warning them to be on their best behavior. The latter because she has been known to ask weird questions randomly and the prior needed no explanation.
"Ahem. Sir Eldrig Ma-Mathens of the Se-Seventh Squad reporting in, s-sir!" Eldrig spoke to the tent entrance. There were no guards here to announce to, which worried Yule to a mild degree.
What responded after a brief pause was not the voice of Lieutenant Isomeren or Golden Warrior Mivera, but a different male voice. Simply and succinctly, it simply bade them enter.
Eldrig nodded to the rest and strode into the tent, his back rigid and nerves apparent. He looked as nervous as he had when they hunted the demon, if not more. Again, mildly worrying. But at the very least Yule was beginning to see what was happening here.
Based upon the knight's nervousness and warning as well as the secretive nature of this meeting, he was able to put two and two together. Whoever had called them likely was their real owner. Yule would bet his staff that this person would be the mysterious "Lord Commander" whom no one was willing to speak of and who ordered their revival.
Entering into the tent provided an interesting sight. The tent was indeed smaller than the large command tent that was capable of holding Mivera within it. What made it feel even smaller was the abundance of tables and desks along the edges of the tent. Piles of parchments, scrolls, and books covered a majority of the open space. None of them were disorganized, a fact that appealed to Yule's inner bookworm. Each stack of loose parchment was neatly tied up according to an unknown system and each scroll was neatly rolled. On two other tables was a spread of different items; tools, trinkets, weapons, and armor that were seemingly random in their origin. Likely they were magical artifacts collected from varying places. In between a desk and table filled with literature was a simple cot, tucked away and unimportant.
However, the appearance of the tent was only briefly glanced at. The true sight was who else was in the tent. The supposed origin of the voice and sole inhabitant was sitting at the desk directly across from the tent entrance, his back to them. From what Yule could see, it was a man with a neat ponytail of platinum hair(not platinum blonde, but metallic platinum) with small splotches of brown mixed in, as if the colors were fighting for dominance. The man's shoulders were decently broad, covered along with the rest of the torso by a white surcoat embroidered with a simple golden design.
Eldrig immediately went onto one knee, as did Selm after a small gasp. With a pleading look sent to the rest of them by both Keldanians, everyone else followed suit. Some begrudgingly did so, but they did do so. Something about the situation gave off the feeling of such importance that even the obstinate Runner knelt. Perhaps it was the panicked looks of Selm or the insistent glances from Eldrig that did it.
A few moments of silence from them was filled with the scratching of a quill across the parchment. Yule surmised that the man was writing something down. He then felt silly for that simple observation, as it was quite obvious, and thus kept it to himself. Much like the many silly observations he makes daily that he decided to keep to himself. Yule was, at the heart of it, intelligent. Intelligent people often did silly things. He was no exception. Another moment passed without them saying a word. The quill was put down and the man sighed.
The man turned his head and regarded them before standing up. He turned to face them, revealing his form. He looked human, perhaps on the taller side but not as tall as Baz or Inathia. His moderately well-built frame revealed some level of strength to him. On his face was a well-groomed beard, the same dappling of brown within the platinum hair. The fact that his skin was warm-toned made his facial hair seem ever so ethereal. His eyes were a stunning emerald in color and as sharp as jagged shards of the same gem would be. A perpetual look of calculating authority was his expression.
All in all, the man was handsome, if Yule were to be asked objectively.
"Your ro-royal hi-highness, Lord T-Tymet Harlinborn. We a-are hon-honored-"
Lord Tymet waved his hand, interrupting Eldrig. "Yes, yes… I know, Mathens." Those cunning emerald eyes turned to the rest of them. Yule felt a shiver run down his spine. That gaze was calculating. He had seen it a few times in the eyes of certain archmages. It belied hidden plans and motives that very few were privy to. They were the eyes of a very dangerous man. "Now then. Let us get straight to the heart of the matter. I am sure you have questions, and I know I have answers. Understand that I shall answer some, but not all. That is not up for debate. I am a busy many and there are many things you need not know about. Now, ask."
Yule felt a bead of sweat run down the side of his face. Afterall, it was not everyday one got to meet with the second prince of Keldanis.