When the bolt pierced the shield

[dazedandconfused]

The tiny bardess, who had hummed or sang when they were in the worse parts of the city, first grew quiet and withdrawn in the “uptown” section. She was nervous, edgy. She drew a hood over to conceal her face. The perpetual smile became strained and she stayed glued to his side. Around any watchmen, she was unfriendly, not speaking a word. It was only as they had entered that inn that she became even slightly animated, her eyes flashing a bit as the innkeeper tried to charge them too much coin.

There was a hint of color on her cheeks and a slight smile on her lips as she, after negotiations, had taken the key from the man and arched her brow at Grey. “It was his last room, we shall be sharing,” she had informed him.



As they followed the main street, Cecilia glanced up to her left at the giant who was walking at her side. Grey sensed her gaze and somehow he wondered if she was perhaps thinking about the same topic, the fact they’d be sharing a room tonight.

Why couldn’t he just go? And find another inn for himself? After all there were enough around here which were worth a shot. Or better even, why not resume his own quest, mind his own business? After all…, didn’t he already had enough on his mind? He glanced at her the moment she looked back in front of her. Why did he feel the need to protect her? Was it because she probably had saved his life earlier? So, so did he, no? By driving off those needy youngsters earlier,... right?

He shook his head and made the promise to himself to go to sleep long after she did. At least that would prevent him from running into embarrassing scenes.

Grey winced. And why did exactly -that- thought had to cross his mind?

Then... that scent drifted to him. Citrus, like fresh lemons, a hint of honey that reminded him of favorite desserts, some unidentified flower. The scent that filled the room they now shared and that seemed to follow her wherever they went. When he paused at merchant stalls to replenish his gear, she charmed a nearby farmer with a song. Her eyes sparkled as she walked back his way, crunching into a bright apple and tossing him one of his own. How did she do that? Charming people so effortlessly. She didn’t seem to expect a thank you, she just gave him a grin that seemed to shoot right to his gut. It was a punch to the solar plexus that made it hard for him to draw air.


He looked away and up for a moment at the darkness slowly taking over the sky and where sequin-silver stars like the glowing embers of a dying fire winked down at him. Soon playing for time was over and they would have to head back to that inn. He didn’t care to miss out on dinner but since he had paid for it… for them. But after that, then what?? What was he supposed to do? Take a seat at a table and drink with her? Cecilia was someone who was capable of chatting away nineteen to the dozen without visibly minding him not saying much in return. Perhaps she assumed he was just a good listener?

One thing he did notice though. Although he hadn’t really raised questions, she seemed to avoid talking about her personal past, and she seemed wary. Thus far he knew nothing about her parentage. He bet it wasn’t exactly a humble background. Therefore her way of talking was at times far too stylish and dignified. She seemed happy with his company however… for some reason...

But anyways, fine. She didn’t knew anything about him either and it was probably a good thing to keep it that way. After the event with the dark rider she already saw enough and he had no need for someone to follow him in his wake of personal tragedy. He would fix ‘it’ all by himself, alone. He had managed doing so for many years.

By the time they hit the street of their inn the sun had disappeared along with its shine and stars peeked out under a black, night sky.



“HELP HELP!!” a panicking voice sounded from deep down the alley on their right.

[leviticus]

Grey saw how passersby went with the wind, pretending not to have overheard the call for help. Without waiting to see what would happen next and before Cecilia realised, Grey had dashed towards the mouth of the alley, following the narrow passage to its darkest corners.

There he found some animated creature slaking its seemingly blood lust upon the entrails of a dying woman. In the distance he perceived a cloaked figure dragging off a screaming girl-child over its shoulder and deeper inwards the unpaved alley. Quickly he made a decision. The girl was at least still alive while the woman, probably her mother still had a chance if he was able to apply his healing magics on time. He drew a curved dark grey blade which hung on his belt. But just when he was about to step in the creature raised its horrifying face from the woman’s ravaged chest and bared its yellow teeth, hissing dangerously at him. The smell of its rotting face was enough to make one’s stomach churn, especially when what was a part of a blooded intestine dropped out of its twitching mouth.

The zombie moaned and then roared at him, its call for hunger echoing down the alley. Its hungry mind, if it had any, now focussed on this fresh prey right in front of him, yet somehow failed to see the danger Grey could cause.

Cecilia had reacted as soon as he did, on his heels as he raced into the alley, her trusty crossbow already in hand. The sight that greeted her eyes had her face paling and the previously enjoyed apple rising up from her stomach and into her throat. She did not think, she did not give warning, she acted on sheer instinct and bravado. The bolt wizzed through the air, flying past Grey so closely that he felt the rush of air before it embedded itself in the zombie’s right eye, piercing his brain.

An arcane word was muttered, the second bolt striking the zombie’s chest and sending it reeling back against the wall. And there it collapsed into a mound of stinking rags, rotted flesh and blood. Cici’s eyes were wild with terror and revulsion. Yet she stood her ground, crossbow aimed as she guarded his back. Her eyes restlessly searched the shadows as she willed her hands to stop shaking.

Grey just looked at her a moment, arching a brow at the display of magic. He mumbled something about ‘fancy’ and moved over to the pile of rotten flesh that used to be a zombie.

After setting the zombie on fire by doing something similar like he did with the dark rider, Grey kneeled and studied the woman’s injuries a moment. His left hand unclipped his cloak brooch and he threw out his right arm to let the cloak fly freely like a bat’s wing, draping the woman’s mutilated body with it. He shook his head,” Too late…”

He looked up from under his grey black tresses, his dark eyes locking onto the even deeper part of the alley in which the child had been dragged off. Slowly he rose to his feet, towering above the bardess right behind him.

“G… Grey?” she asked a little uncertain. She knew what he was about to do.

The tall warrior drew that backwardly curved blade again which was obvious more handy in narrow places than the gigantic sword on his back. “Going after her, petite… just wait here for the guards. I may need their help.” He motioned with his chin in the direction of the alley. “I’ll leave a few marks… probably...”

And gone was Grey, without looking back, and without further instructions or goodbyes the warrior dashed away from the scene and into the darkness… focussed on rescuing that little girl and hoping that he could spare the child from whatever cruel fate her abductor had in mind.

((from here this backstory will continue strictly about Grey))

[leviticus]

The alley was pitch black, yet Grey was able to see in complete darkness up to a certain distance. Almost rather altruistically he ran through the stone-walled alley as another scream echoed between the houses. But when a gust of wind blew through the small passage, Grey started to move more cautiously towards the sound. He didn’t see any sign of the little girl yet and carefully watched around. Everything around him suddenly turned silent as if he had entered a magically muted area.

A spook-grey mist drifted over… soundless, voiceless, soulless swirling around him, grasping at the fabric of his dark clothes and lubricating the metal of his blade. The temperature of the air surrounding Grey dropped significantly within moments, the icy air that was going through his lungs stinging so hard that it felt like he was breathing snow. What in the world…? He tightened the grip on his blade as he carefully proceeded through the dead silence of the seemingly empty alley. The air he was moving through, licked at his face like a specter of death, the biting cold within seconds chilling his fingers into tingling numbness.

Under the soft glow of the full moon, everything was cast in a myriad shades of gray, Grey’s own shadow a piercing black against the setting. Even darker however were shadows that suddenly started to move around him, and the biggest of them all stepped closer, footsteps echoing sharply around the deserted alley. It was a dark figure, yet not human. But Grey already knew that. As the shadows surrounded him, Grey straightened up and looked even taller. He looked like a lonely grizzly bear slowly being surrounded by a hungry pack of black wolves. He turned around carefully with his scimitar in both hands.


“Still can’t without bags of flesh, heh…” The towering man shook his head. “You know’s good as I that my sword devours those around me.”





“That is what I like about you, brother, -always- straight to business. And that while it has been quite some time.”

“Heh… sorry. Was looking for you though. Didn’ mean to make you wait.”

Grey’s body stiffened a bit as laughter completely devoid of warmth or humor rang through his ears.

“Stop it, brother! You are killing me!”

Grey growled dangerously. “Stop calling me brother and lets settle this once and for all.”

“Oh c’mon… Grey, now you sound like a mean and ruthlessly vindictive man yourself. Does it make you feel better with statements like that?”

Grey sensed that the creature was trying to drive him bananas, but for the sake of a few people he had to stay calm. Which… kinda was wasted on him… mostly.

The cold that had seemed stinging at first, now numbed his face and lips extremely, and whatever heat he had absorbed back at the inn was now completely gone. It was as if with each breath he lost more body heat in the shape of white little clouds. He narrowed his eyes when he sensed it. They were trying to weaken him…

“Where… are they…?” Grey asked with a deep harsh voice.

“Hm, we’ll get to that in a moment. First of all, I like you to meet my friends. Perhaps you should do a little bit more your best to become properly acquainted with them as you may have offended them when you called them ‘bags of flesh’.” It looked as if the shade tapped his chin before he continued. “However...hm… I -do know- diplomacy isn’t exactly your strongest suit. Pity actually…”

“Not interested. Where are they?!” Grey demanded angrily, but without snapping.

Nothing more dangerous than a man who was calm, clear and angry at the same time… not that it impress the shade though, not at all…

“Don’t be so angry now, Grey, life is already so short. The irony however is that you are angry with others because of your own incompetence. It’s simple as that.”

“Dare to say that again… boy...”

“Grey, Grey. I can feel how it is eating away at you, and you don’t seem to find a way how to release it. You are bleeding on the inside and you wonder if you are becoming a… monster yourself.”

Grey sensed how his anger like an energy field lengthened, molding around his massive frame, causing tension in all his muscles. He was getting at the breaking point of his patience. He imagined his armored fist connecting with the face in the shadows of that large hood, smashing it into that nose and breaking the entire skull with a satisfying crunch, and any blood that was still left in that head splattering violently on the dirty walls. Once he was an explosion in progress however, no one would be able to stop him, by any means.

But if that happened… he would never see her again either.

“So what’s with the show and all? Set this up especially to lure me in here?”

“Why yes, of course? Why not? I mean it’s perfect and I knew a noble yet former Knight of the Shadow Sword would come to the rescue. It’s a shame actually, Grey. But it also shows they didn’t value you. Just like they didn’t appreciate me.”

“It’s forbidden and it’s insane what you did, Galian, and you know it. Then you have to face the consequences.”

“You know however why I did it, Greagoire.”

“What? Fighting evil with evil? You brought disgrace to our family, and you were a disgrace to our Order. Did you really expect them to drop on their knees and thank a necromancer?”

“Look at how grateful they were to you. They tossed you in jail, you got stripped of your rank, and finally they sent you out to get the dirty work done by swinging that huge blade of yours here and there,” the shade replied sharply.

Grey narrowed his eyes. “Say all you like. You won’t change it.” The tall man glanced a moment at the other shadows. “Was that really an attempt to convince me? Cause…” he slowly looked back at Gailan. “... you know what I think? I think you were pissing in your pants so hard that you filled up your boots entirely when you heard I killed our ‘father’. And without him…” he shrugged as he glanced at the shady forms around him like they were nothing,”... you are just a little, whiney cry-baby…”

He looked back at Gailan. “Like you always were…”

And for a moment the challenge hung in the air between the two brothers, ominously.