Marion - Days 14 and 15

-- Day 14 --

Sleep was hard to come by last night. All I could see in my dreams were the dead and the wounded goblins on the battlefield. I wasn't sure what to do with them - whether I should stay Prudence's hand and bandage up the groaning casualties, or reluctantly draw my sword and run the point through their throats. I remember Marcus' suggestion of burning the dead, but I've no idea on the customs of the weak. My motions felt heavy as I would kneel down and pack a wound, only to have my sword at the ready at another fallen. I weep as I push the sword into its throat with all of my strength. I can hear it screaming... louder... higher...

Ryan shakes me awake, the screaming still there. One hand's over my mouth and greeting my eyes with his own. I nod in understanding, then look off to the side of the encampment. The silhouette of wolves surrounds us, only lit by the gleam of torches in the new moon night. High pitched sounds continue, the screams from my dream - the wolves are communicating. I slowly put on my armor and wait for the attack that never comes. Alone once more, I tremble to think what more my dreams could store.

---

Daylight comes, and the dreams do not return. Rising seems as a chore today, what with the restless sleep of indecision weighing upon me. I look over the hill, expecting to see the funeral pyre and the dead still there, but they've disappeared in the night. Perhaps the wolves cleaned up last night.

I dread going into the mines. When I feel the bright shining sun upon my face, I'm reminded of the simpler things in life. Summer wheat, children playing, wildflowers. The mines are not my idea of a great time, but I prepare myself for its depths regardless. We've a duty to perform, and I'll not back out upon my group's word.

The mines are what I expected - dark, dreary, and miserable. It was made even worse by the shallow water that greeted us at the bottom of the shaft. I waded through the water in the middle of the group, watching the dwarf lead the way. I can't fathom how he can tell which direction is which in these mines, but he seems to know the way. I watch my way through the water, using my companion's torchlight as a guide - My shield and long sword are always in my hands at the ready.

By the end of the first room, I was ready to get out of there. I was running my hands under the surface of the water, feeling around for a horn when I stepped close to a large stone door. I felt a brush of air and a sharp piercing pain in my shoulder. I cried and staggered back, grasping my shoulder. My hands circled around an arrow shaft. The paladins seemed a little concerned about my injury, but then were soon consumed about somehow protecting themselves while getting past the door. I say a curse underneath my breath, immediately regret it, and make my apologies to the gods while I check the wound. The arrow went all the way through, so I used the wall to break off the arrowhead and pulled the arrow out of my shoulder.

I grew more uncomfortable after that point. The paladins are busting down door after door, regardless of its previous state of use. I'm not even convinced that anything has even gone this way lately. How would the bard have gone through some of these doors? I keep these thoughts to myself, however, as we continue through smashed door after smashed door.

Most of the rooms we entered had very little of use. I'm not too certain as to the paladin fascination over observing soiled rags. They don't look particularly healthy to be messed around with, and with each room I wonder how long until we see a diseased body.

There was one room that'll stay with me forever - upon entering it, I immediately felt something was off, and reached for my Seal of Kaladis. A large, hulking beast of an undead was lumbering above us, and was bound and determined to make short work of us. I turned to Marcus and shouted out "Turn!" to him, since he was closer to the beast than I. Marcus had his Seal in hand, and cried to Vesta. The undead merely ignored him, and in one sweeping motion, swung towards Alcander. The blow hit him square in the head, throwing him across the room and flat on his back. I saw a trickle of blood coving from his forehead, which brought immediate tears to my eyes.

Full of fury, I brandished the Seal of Kaladis towards the undead, crying out to my god:

"In the name of Kaladis, I command you to turn away!"

I imagined all the power of my god, of all the wonderful things of which he presides over. I saw white flowers and the church, the rows of smiling people, the bride and groom and the wondrous vows in which they were swearing to abide by.

The sound of steel sinking into rotting undead flesh waked me from these thoughts, as I see the undead still standing, still attacking, not turned in the slightest. I sigh at my feeble attempt as I hear another sharp cry go out of Vesta. This one is heard, as the undead suddenly shrieks and runs haphazardly from the group. I can only look blankly at the Seal in my hands, suddenly feeling much heavier, as the paladins get to work on dismembering the enemy.

The feeling stays with me through the rest of the maze - corridors blend together, paladins continue scavenging loot, and the Seal feels heavier in my hands. Have I done something to disrupt the gods? Have I done something to earn Kaladis' disfavor? I've remained truthful to my beloved, to my betrothed, for all of these years. I know he's still out there somewhere, he'll be back and then we'll spend the rest of our lives together.

What if he's no longer alive?

The doubt stayed with me until I see Alcander shooting an arrow into a narrow crevice in the ceiling. After doing so, a dark shadow descends upon the group. I see a couple of the paladins swinging furiously at it, their swords swinging through it as air, yet the fog remains.

"It's your time," I heard something whisper in my mind. The Seal felt lighter, warmer, once the words faded. The Seal felt comfortable in my hands, like it always belonged there. I hold the Seal up to the shadow, and the words flow naturally out of my mouth, but something else is with them as well - the words of Kaladis.

"IN THE NAME OF KALADIS, I TURN YOU AWAY FROM THIS PLACE!"

The shadow immediately retreats, flying through the hole in which it came. I breathed a sigh of relief, smiling to myself and whispering a small thanks to the gods.

This is further cemented by a unique sight in one of the rooms. Upon the wall, I see a long sword displayed. The design is clearly intricate, and it reminds me of the long sword that Xavier uses. I sensed that it was magical, and carefully take it down from the wall.

"Give it to one of the paladins," the whisper comes back into my head. Nodding in understanding, I approach Arcadius and donate the sword to his cause. He seemed perplexed but thankful for the gift, and it's the least that I can give to Kaladis for protecting me and mine with the shadow. I can remember Arcadius' smile still as he held the sword in his hands, it almost reminded me of Xavier's smile.

-- Day 15 --

It happened before I knew it.

I had no idea what the creature actually was, it almost looked like the dwarf in our group. It was mumbling to itself, repeating warnings about not going forward and no escape. I was looking around the room when I heard a sharp cry and a long gurgle. It was then that I saw Alcander above the now-deceased body, blood dripping from its wound. Alcander pried the bard's horn from its fingers, pocketing it for its safe return. As the rest of the paladins went on, I couldn't help but stand at the chair of the slain, looking down and wondering if this was truly necessary. I can understand us being on the path of righteousness, but could there have been a way of peace?