The group reached the tranquil lake before noon.
The famous chapel of St. Durmond stood on the lakeshore.
However, its stone altar was cracked, covered in crude scratches, and smeared with foul-smelling ichor.
Shattered relics and offerings lay scattered on the ground like trash.
Fanática's halo flared in outrage.
"Vandals! The Goddess's sacred site was defiled!"
The group looked grim. Few would dare commit such a heinous crime as desecrating a place of worship.
They scattered to search for clues.
Liora shouted from a distance, "I have tracks!"
When the party gathered around her, the huntress added, "A medium-sized group of monsters… but later, another, smaller group passed through. In boots."
The tracks led them downhill to the entrance of the cave by the lake.
Fresh claw and boot marks were still visible in the wet mud.
The group followed them inside.
Just inside the entrance, they found the bodies of lizardmen surrounding a fallen man.
Their scaled hides were rent by blade strikes, and green blood pooled beneath.
The man was an old knight with a gray beard, panting heavily as he leaned against a boulder.
His armor was bent and damaged, and he was holding his stomach wound with one hand.
He reached weakly for his sword at their approach, a wild look in his eyes - but then he saw they weren't reptiles.
The blade clattered down.
"Please…" he rasped, pointing into the cave where distant clashes echoed. "Save… my lady…"
Faná knelt instantly. "O Goddess, Light that banishes all suffering - mend his wounds."
Golden light flowed from her hands.
The wound closed and color returned to the man's face.
He gasped in awe, but Faná was already standing.
"We accept your plea. Stay here."
The party plunged in.
Cave opened onto a wide chamber, the edges of which were plunged into shadow.
Gorzod lit a torch, and that, together with Faná's halo of light, illuminated the path ahead of them.
They heard the sound of steel striking steel before they saw the glow of light in the side corridor.
In the middle of the large chamber stood two figures - a knight in armor and a young squire holding a torch with a damaged shield.
They stood back to back, defending themselves against the hissing crowd of lizardmen surrounding them.
The monsters were clearly toying with them.
They taunted the pair in slithery Common: "Ssssoft meat… for the nessst…"
And then the party ambushed them.
Gorzod lunged with a roar, his axe and torch splitting scales and blinding monsters.
Thrain used his shield like a battering ram, splitting the skulls of his opponents with powerful swings of his hammer.
White-feathered arrows flew out of the darkness, hitting the confused lizardmen.
Erian, with a melodious invocation, summoned a powerful wave of water that threw a group of monsters trying to flank them against the wall.
Faná swung wide - her maul sending lizardmen flying in bursts of golden light.
The survivors hissed and retreated deeper into the dark tunnels.
The knight lowered her bloodied sword, panting, and removed her helmet.
It was a girl - no older than Faná, with yellowish hair braided into a long plait.
And wild blue eyes.
Erian forgot to breathe.
"You… you saved us. I am Peregrine, a knight-errant. This is my squire, Ash. We owe you our lives." The girl smiled a tired smile.
The old knight's plea echoed in party minds - "my lady."
Erian asked, forgetting to blush and stammer as usual, "How on earth did you... end up inside a cave surrounded by lizardmen?"
Peregrine explained, "We arrived here this morning during a pilgrimage to the shrine.
We noticed several lizardmen vandalizing it, so without hesitation we pursued them to their lair."
She bit her lip anxiously.
"We didn't know there would be so many of them inside, though."
Gorzod chuckled low. "Knight-version of Faná. Reckless as they come."
Thrain groaned. "Goddess save us. There's two of them now."
Once outside the cave, the introductions began.
Gorzod gave Peregrine a short nod, his arms crossed over his scarred chest. "I am Gorzod."
Thrain raised his hammer and rested it on his shoulder.
"Thrain Ironspit. Try not to drag us into any more caves full o' reptiles."
Liora raised two fingers in a lazy half-wave from where she leaned against a tree. "Liora."
Erian nearly tripped over his staff while attempting a polite bow.
"E-Erian. Apprentice mage."
When Faná's turn came, young Ash - fourteen, freckled, wide-eyed - blurted:
"So you're the saint who brings disaster..."
Peregrine elbowed him hard.
Sweat beading on her brow, she bowed deeply. "It's a… honor, Lady Saint."
---
They made camp by the lake.
Faná and Peregrine both insisted on repairing the shrine, scrubbing ichor from the altar and righting the scattered stones.
Thrain and Gorzod made quick excuses:
"Er, I'll go look for wood."
"I'll bring some water."
Liora simply vanished into the trees: "Scouting."
Erian helped carry stones awkwardly, blushing near Peregrine.
When the old knight awoke, he saw that his two young charges were safe, and he almost cried.
"Praise be to the goddess!"
Peregrine hugged the wounded man, causing him to groan in pain. "I thought you were done for, master!" she cried. After a moment's hesitation, squire Ash also hugged them both.
As evening fell, the two girls talked happily while they worked.
They spoke of saints and knights, of monsters defeated and miracles witnessed.
Peregrine's stories were bold and shining with chivalry, while Faná's were filled with radiant certainty and overwhelming, absurd divine judgment.
Somehow, despite their differences, they understood each other perfectly.
After a while they were laughing like old friends.
When the shrine was finally restored, Faná and Peregrine knelt to pray.
Erian, Ash, and the old knight joined.
Thrain grumbled but in the end also knelt reluctantly.
Gorzod remained by the fire, sharpening one of his axes.
And Liora sat in a tree branch above the camp, watching silently.
The night came.
But the girls chatted through half of it like giggling teens.
Eventually Thrain's voice growled from his bedroll.
"In the Goddess's name, will ye both shut yer yaps and sleep?"
---
Morning came with a slight mist rising from the lake.
The camp slowly came to life.
Thrain stoked the embers of the fire, while Gorzod stretched, flexing his powerful arms.
Liora was already up and sitting on a nearby fallen tree like a lazy cat.
Erian rubbed his sleepy eyes, and squire Ash tried to polish his dented shield.
By the time the sun rose above the hills, both groups were ready to set off.
Peregrine clasped Faná's hand.
"If you're ever near Haydall, ask for me. My family's lands lie there. I'd welcome my saviors anytime."
Faná smiled. "The Goddess guides all paths!"
They parted - the party headed west along the lakeshore road, while Peregrine and her companions turned northeast toward the hills.
---
Elsewhere, far to the west from the tranquil lake, a man crawled along a sunlit meadow path, leaving a thin trail of blood behind him.
Nearby lay an overturned, wrecked wagon.
Dead guards and horses covered the grass.
The man pulled a small iron cage from the wreckage
Inside, a white dove was fluttering its wings weakly.
"I have to... tell..." he whispered.
Heavy footsteps approached.
Armored boots appeared in his field of vision.
The man turned around, his eyes filled with terror.
Before him stood a knight in battered plate armor. He dragged behind a long, blackish sword, its blade gleaming with a dull scarlet glow.
The knight's eyes burned with the same color.
"No... please... I have fa..."
The sword rose, and then it fell in one fluid motion.
And the man was cut in half.
The dark knight stood over the body, breathing slowly, while a red glow pulsed faintly along the blade.
Around him lay the destroyed convoy.
He spoke through clenched teeth.
"No one... worthy..."