Bloodlust, Written by a Fan Fiction Newbie Options

[jack cloudy]

What canis said. The detail in tactics was good. That battering ram thing, it makes me think of a tetsudo formation.

[The Metal Mallet]

Well, I have full day work shifts for this week, so it's very likely I'll be making daily updates until Sunday. Hooray for everyone right? Enjoy!

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It wasn’t long before Savlian and his company reached the first fork in the road. The group silently broke in half with Savlian decided to take the path that led to an armoury station. Fortunately, the place was void of enemies for now. It was here that another fork spilt the group up even more. Savlian, with three soldiers in tow, decided to take a sloping corridor that seemly led to the bottom of the Fort. All the wile, echoing footsteps and the odd shout reverberated around them, masking their quiet tread.

Savlian was surprised to have not engaged any enemies so far as they continued down into the depths of the Fort. He didn’t know if he was walking into a trap, or was simply lucky so far. The three soldiers with them seemed to feel the same way, given their wary glances. They knew an outnumbered fight would be disastrous. Yet they still cautiously continued on down their chosen path, hoping they could accomplish what they sought out to do.

Their convenient luck finally disappeared when the thundering approach of multiple footsteps sounded from down the corridor. Savlian and his troops immediately held position at a choke point, a twist in the corridor that would initially hide them, and waited anxiously for their victims. Every eye gleamed with grim determination as the footsteps became louder and louder.

When brown leather of bandit armour came into view, Savlian swung out from his hiding position, lashing out with his broadsword and catching the bandit unawares. Two other bandits fell before they knew what happened before their partners tailing behind knew something was wrong. By then, it was a two against four battle that was quickly finished by Savlian and his men. Savlian turned to each soldier, silently checking to see if any of them were injured. They all nodded that they were fine and the party continued as pools of blood began to form around the dead bandits.

Their stealthy approached continued until Savlian heard the sound of voices; one of them sounded familiar as well. He called a halt and strained his ears to make out the conversation.

“Sir, from what I can tell the Fort has been breached. I’ve heard battling within these walls and in many places as well. It’s as if they’ve occupied every corridor,” a concerned voice stated.

“Divines be damned! I will not die down here! You go out there and you rush each and e’vry corridor! Terminate them like the rats they are!”

He’s just around the corner! Savlian thought as he edged his broadsword forward.

Savlian rushed the corner and ran into five armoured bandits, anticipating their attack. Savlian ducked below the horizontal slash of the first bandit and rammed into the group, causing him and the bandits to go crashing down to the floor. Fists and knives flashed and the soldiers managed to pull Savlian free and finish off the bandits as they struggled to get to their feet. Savlian brushed the blood forming across his cheek. Apparently, a knife had brushed against it.

Savlian proceeded ahead, disregarding his injury and his intent to find Hlodir increased. It just so happened in his determined march; he and the soldiers arrived at a lodging station. One that was currently being used.

Startled bandits rose from their cots, brandishing all sorts of weaponry. Savlian pushed the soldiers backwards back into the corridor. That way they wouldn’t be completely overwhelmed.

The bandits willingly followed Savlian into the corridor, only to quickly meet their demise to Savlian’s broadsword. The blades of the soldiers also provided ample protection for Savlian and destruction to their enemies as a steady stream of bandits forced them further back into the corridor.

Suddenly, a soldier collapsed to the ground, blood frothing from his mouth and a sword piercing his body. His comrade tried to go to his aid but the injured soldier waved him off as he struggled to his feet. Then, without any hesitation, the soldier charged recklessly into the horde of bandits, flailing his sword left and right. Savlian thought he saw at least three bandits fall before the soldier was finally taken down. Savlian gritted his teeth. That soldier was not going to die in vain.

It seemed the numbers of bandits were not going to stop, but Savlian noticed that some were beginning to change their attention to their rear. Something was attacking their rear! The bandits were caught between a hammer and an anvil. Savlian shouted a battle cry and applied new-found pressure on the bandits, who began to back up. Unfortunately for them, they were backing into more blades. Within minutes the last of the bandits were disposed of and Savlian found himself greeting the bloodied faces of one of the groups that had split off from them.

“Looks as though our paths eventually meet up once more,” a soldier said grinning.

“Any losses?” Savlian said in deep heaving breaths.

“None yet, just a couple of small injuries so far,” the soldier replied, looking back at his fellow soldiers just to make sure.

Savlian nodded as he examined his men, who looked exhausted but not seriously injured. He then noticed his men pulling out their fallen comrade from the bodies of fallen bandits. A slight pang of guilt struck Savlian then. He had disregarded stealth when he stormed into the lodging station, simply because he thought Hlodir would be there. Because of his carelessness, one of his men would not be leaving this place alive. He clenched his fist. There, he silently vowed to not make that mistake again.

“Let’s keep going,” Savlian said quietly as he headed towards the lodging station once more.

Upon arrival, Savlian turned to the soldier he had previously spoken with. “Where did you guys come from?” he asked, indicating the two other corridors.

The soldier pointed out which one they arrived from, so Savlian chose to enter the other one, with the familiar downward direction to it. Soon enough, voices were heard once again.

“Sir, we’re trapped down here! I suggest we yield.”

“Never! I will not bow down t’Savlian or that baffoon Ormellius! If you so much as think about dropping your weapon, I will skin your hide!”

It was then that sounds of steel on steel echoed down the corridor. A cry of pain shortly followed.

“You insolent fool! None may strike at me and live,” the Nordic voice spat.

Savlian stood around the corner of the next room, this time absolutely sure that Hlodir was ahead. He could see the long shadows of men within the room. Given their increased numbers, Savlian decided a charge would work this time.

“Now!” Savlian shouted and rushed into the room, stabbing the nearest bandit into his sternum, kicking him off his blade and stopping the strike of another bandit. The soldiers around him quickly engaged and began overwhelming the few bandits left. Once more Savlian stood in a room full of dead bodies and yet Hlodir was not among them.

Then applause reached his ears.

“Ah Savlian, tis good t’see you once more,” Hlodir said cheerfully as he walked out from a shaded corner.

Soldiers began to edge their way towards Hlodir but Savlian held them off, shaking his head. He then turned back to Hlodir.

“Face it, Hlodir, you’re finished. Put down your weapon,” Savlian said sternly.

Hlodir smiled slyly. “You don’t wanna arrest me. C’mon, we both know what you want t’do t’me. You gotta gimme that chance.”

A soldier leaned into Savlian’s ear. “Don’t do it, Captain. He’s got nothing to lose and you have everything. We’ve won! Let’s just leave it at that.”

“I’m sorry, but I have to do this. I made a vow to end this my way. I intend to keep it,” Savlian said to his troops, “No matter what happens, stay out of this until one of us is finished.”

Shocked expressions greeted him, but they all complied with their Captain’s wish. Savlian was grateful for that. He turned to a long sword brandishing Hlodir.

“Let’s finish this.”

[jack cloudy]

Hmm, the final duel. Either Hlodir is nuts or he has a trick upon his sleeve. Who knows, his late mage friend might have left behind something nasty.

[canis216]

Great update Mallet!

[Black Hand]

Your gonna post machine it up too? Sweet....

[Soulseeker3.0]

Very nice updates MM. You indeed have skill with writing fight scenes. I honestly can't wait to see what Hlodir has up his sleeve.

[Lord Revan]

**Sits silently in one of the corners, and debates on what the possible outcomes are.......**

[The Metal Mallet]

So here's the duel. Enjoy and expect a visit from Simion in tomorrow's update!


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Hlodir grinned wickedly as he readied himself into his fighting stance while Savlian prepared himself as well. Savlian’s men stood in front of the only exit to the two rooms available, weapons ready to use should Savlian fall or Hlodir attempts an escape. Their expressions were grim, but a couple of them called out encouragement to their Captain.

Savlian circled Hlodir slowly, eyes fixed upon his target. Hlodir licked his lips expectantly.

“You know I’ve bested you in everything that we’ve both done. There will be no change this time,” Hlodir said confidently before snickering.

“Think what you will, Hlodir, but you should remember I nearly bested you when I was drunk. I wouldn’t be so confident,” Savlian said softly before engaging the attack with a darting thrust.

Hlodir parried the strike easily and countered with a thrust of his own. Savlian slid away from the attack and lashed out towards Hlodir’s feet, hoping the hamstring him. Hlodir managed to jump over the swinging steel and backed away, excitement and adrenaline dancing in his eyes.

“You can no hurt me, Savlian!” Hlodir said savagely and dived into a barrage of swipes on Savlian.

Savlian was forced to back up from the applied pressure by Hlodir, fending off blows from the left and right. If he didn’t change what was happening, he would be backed against the wall and basically would enter a desperate situation. So, Savlian parried Hlodir’s attack, pushing the blade downwards and charged into Hlodir. Both of them went crashing to the stone floor, armour and swords clattering loudly.

There, both men struggled between each other for position, seeking a dominant top position. As the two rolled around on the floor, Hlodir managed to slip out his ebony dagger. Savlian fortunately saw this and now fought against avoiding the potential stabbing Hlodir was hoping to issue.

Hlodir rolled Savlian so that he was on top of Savlian. Both men’s hands gripped the ebony dagger as Hlodir tried to drive it into Savlian while Savlian tried to resist it. The dagger shook under the exertion given off by the two opposing forces. Yet, the dagger was progressively lowering, drawing nearer, and nearer to Savlian. So close was it that Savlian could see the reflecting torchlight off the dark metal.

Hlodir growled in exertion as he applied his weight to the blade, all the while, Savlian men screamed encouragement, faces anxious now. Still, the dagger continued downward, despite Savlian’s efforts. His position was a disadvantage for this situation. He had to do something though, and as soon as he knew there was no way in stopping the descending dagger, he formulated his plan.

Savlian eased off his exertion on the dagger, allowing the dagger to descend more easily. By now, the soldiers were frantically urging Savlian on. Hlodir began to grin, saliva clinging to the corners of his mouth as he saw victory to be close at hand. But just when he thought he had it, since the resistance was all but gone, Savlian shifted Hlodir’s hands. The dagger clanged against the solid stone floor and Savlian delivered an elbow to Hlodir’s all ready injured nose.

Hlodir recoiled backwards and off of Savlian in pain, clutching at his face as Savlian rolled away and picked up his broadsword. He immediately pressed the attack on Hlodir, hoping his watering eyes would provide a hindrance in his ability to fight and defend. Somehow, Hlodir recovered quickly from the elbow and deftly defended himself from Savlian’s flurry. What he didn’t expect though was a swift kick to the stomach by Savlian.

The force of the blow staggered Hlodir backwards against the wall, the air blasting out of his lungs. Savlian aimed a thrust to Hlodir’s heart, thoughts of finishing it entering his mind. Again, Hlodir dodged the attack as Savlian approached the wall due to his attack. Hlodir took advantage of this and punched Savlian in the face with a meaty fist.

Savlian’s mind flashed and black flecks entered his vision as he backed away from his opponent in hopes to recover. Hlodir issued a roar and charged at the Captain. Savlian ducked under the heavy horizontal slash and used Hlodir’s momentum to toss him over his back and onto a nearby bench. The bench exploded into fragments of debris as Hlodir crashed through it.

Savlian engaged his fallen opponent with an overhead chop that only met a jarring hit against the floor as Hlodir rolled away and regained his feet. They were back a square one.

Hlodir chuckled dryly and wiped the blood from underneath his nose. “Heh, I guess ya could say I underestimated you a wee bit.”

Savlian decided to try to reason with the Nord once more. “Give it up, Hlodir. We don’t need to continue this.”

“Why would I want t‘do that? So you could just execute me publicly for the population. T’ease their paranoid minds as they watch me head roll off like a pig! No! I will die trying t’kill the one I hate the most! You!” Hlodir spat and charged in once more.

Savlian had had enough. As Hlodir raced towards him, Savlian quickly took out his silver dagger, ducked under Hlodir’s swooping attack, and plunged the dagger deep into Hlodir’s knee. The attack caused Hlodir to yell out in pain and collapse to the floor clumsily

Calmly rising back to normal height, Savlian walked over to the Nord bent over in pain, clutching at his knee. Blood ran freely between the grimy hands of the Nord. As Savlian’s shadow enveloped Hlodir it caused the Nord to look up.

“May the Divines judge you appropriately,” Savlian said solemnly as he raised his sword.

Hlodir’s eyes stared straight into Savlian’s as the sword plunged into him. There they remained until they glazed over in death. No sound of pain escaped his lips for that whole moment.

Savlian removed the sword and cleaned off the bloodied blade. His men looked to him, a solemn silence permeating from them all. It was Savlian who broke this silence.

“Let’s head on out.”

[canis216]

Spectacular!

[Black Hand]

**Standing Ovation!!**

[jack cloudy]

In the end, Savlian still had a trick, or dagger, up his sleeve. Great work.

[w0nders]

Great story, I enjoy reading it and look forward to the next update.

[minque]

indeed you have a great talent for describing battles and fighting....so vivid and ..ehhh bloody! So great Mallie...just so intriguing, I´ve got a lot to learn from you!

[Soulseeker3.0]

Great duel scene MM, can't wait for more of the story.

[The Metal Mallet]

Well, I guess tomorrow turned out to be *cough* almost a week, so I apologise for any of those I misled. To make up for that, here's an update. One which I hope my loyal readers will find quite intriguing. Enjoy!


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While Savlian was busy marching his way to Fort Falkrek, Simion was attempting to deal with the current threat upon him. The situation was grave if the Archmaster himself was in Kvatch and speaking with him. Like all assassins, he knew that Sethyas didn’t visit him to ask about the whereabouts of Lavos; there was more to it than that. He knew Sethyas was sizing him up, or possibly looking for something else entirely. His eyes landed on his bloodied gloves underneath his table.

That was what he was looking for; proof that Simion was responsible for the murders. Well he certainly found a credible source in the gloves, but there were other possible sources as well. He had dealt with one of them. That rat Madsen was not going to open his mouth anymore. But there had to be others as well. Somehow Savlian had linked him with the murder of Lavos, but he had no clue of how. Someone must’ve noticed his meetings with Lavos; whether it was at the taverns or his home Simion didn’t know. He was going to find out as soon as possible. He would need to before the Morag Tong found them.

It seemed that luck was shining on him today as his answer was found sooner than expected. In fact it was answered shortly after he stepped out of his home. He was just closing his door when he looked across the street to find Bernise tending to her garden. Bernise was perhaps the only person he had a modest relationship with, as they had spoken before. He began to approach her home in hopes of greeting her, but when she looked up and saw him a familiar look crossed her eyes. The same look that Madsen gave him the other night.

Hurt feelings rose up within him, but Simion hid it well. He smiled warmly to Bernise.

“Good morning, Bernise. Enjoying the fair weather for once?”

Bernise rose from the ground slowly, brushing of the dark, brown earth from her knees. She hesitantly forced a smile of her own.

“Good morning to you as well, Simion,” she said in an unsteady voice and paused momentarily, “I’m sorry, but I need to see to some things inside.”

With that, she quickly gathered up her gardening equipment and entered her home, shutting the door with a hurried force.

Simion frowned. It seemed she was the one who knew of Lavos. Regrettable as it was, he was going to have to make sure she didn’t speak to anyone else about Lavos.

The familiar sensation of the Voice’s arrival left Simion’s stomach roiling.

“It’s about time you started figuring things out on your own. She has to die before she opens her mouth once more!”

Simion nodded slowly as he walked away from Bernise’s home. Somehow, the day just didn’t seem so bright now.

Simion was just about to enter his home when his hand stopped halfway from reaching the door handle. Shock rippled down his body as he realised just what he had done. He had complied to the Voice’s wishes without resistance. He had willingly decided that Bernise had to die, without any goading whatsoever from the Voice.

Was the idea that logical? Or could it be that the Voice had broken him now? Was he simply a shell of what he used to be? These questions went racing through his mind as he stood transfixed before his door.

“Open the door! Do you want people to be more suspicious then they all ready are?” the Voice hissed, snapping Simion from his frozen state.

Simion entered his home and managed to slump into a chair. Everything he did seemed to take so much more effort. He felt drained and lost, his mind drifting off in every direction with no focus.

Simion’s vision began to blur, as if a haze was enveloping his sight. Simion knew he wanted to fight against it, yet his concentration was broken, lacking focus as it drifted aimlessly in the depths of his mind. It was as if he had lost completely control of his body.

Simion could feel the haze growing more and more powerful, and his sense on consciousness slipping. Try as he might, it couldn’t be stopped. He was caught in a battle that he was completely helpless in fighting. The last discernable thing Simion noticed before the haze consumed him was his own voice. The frightening part was that he knew he was incapable of forming these words, yet there they were, echoing against the walls of his empty home.

“It’s time to do things my way.”




It was as if he was having an out of body experience, only much more twisted and convoluted. Simion found himself looking down upon himself in his chair. The world around him was cast in swirling shades of grey. Nothing seemed solid, as if he was floating in some sort of imaginary sea.

Simion was still busy trying to comprehend what was going on when he noticed his body moving. It moved purposely to his wardrobe, where it began changing into his “night time” attire. It seemed that everywhere his body went, he was forced to follow unwillingly. Simion witnessed his body unsheathing one of his daggers and checking the blade for signs of damage before sheathing it once more.

What am I doing? Is this some sort of dream?

Simion didn’t know the answer to his questions, but his body decided to sneak out the back door of his home. Simion noticed that the sky held two large orbs in the air, swirling in the inky haze he was trapped in. Somehow, between his fadeout and this out of body experience, daylight had long since disappeared. Yet, Simion didn’t feel like the transition was that long, as if the transition to where he was now had only taken moments.

Simion’s focus returned to his body, which was now carefully travelling through the empty street before it slipped through the backyard of one of his neighbour’s home. The eyes of his body were the only things that didn’t shimmer and sway in this world. They were perfectly clear, and horrible. The expression within those eyes showed a lethal determination. A complete disregard of life except for one’s own life encompassed them as well.

Seeing that expression would’ve sent shivers down Simion’s spine if he could’ve felt it. It suddenly dawned on him what was being done here. His body was paying Bernise a visit. Simion could see his body’s eyes fixed upon the serene looking house not too far from his own.

With slick agility and speed, Simion watched his body stealthily enter Bernise’s backyard. His body calmly inspected the windows and doors of the home, probably looking for signs of Bernise being awake.

Seemly satisfied with its observations, Simion’s body began to pick the lock of Bernise’s back door. All the while, Simion could only watch helplessly as the inevitable was rapidly descending upon Bernise.

She was only doing what was right. I deserve to be punished!

Simion’s body ignored his mental cries and quickly popped the lock. The door opened soundlessly and the body proceeded into the house, virtually dragging Simion along. He did not want to see what was bound to happen. Yet try as he might, he could not escape whatever was keeping him bound to following his body.

Simion was forced to watch as his body ascended the stairs carefully, followed by a short sneak down the hallway and into Bernise’s bedroom where a petit lump rested in the bed.

Simion desperately tried to pry his eyes away from his body inching its way towards Bernise, but he had no eyelids to conceal the events unfolding before him. Nor did he have the ability to flee from the scene. He felt utterly helpless.

It was then that his body unsheathed his dagger. It was that moment that Simion noticed new feelings in his body’s crystal clear eyes. Excitement, expectation, even pleasure were mixed with the previous expressions in those eyes.

The body rose from the crouch that it had travelled the entire distance so far. Its hand shot out to clamp upon the mouth of Bernise, whose eyes bulged at the sudden pressure upon her face and glistened in fear at the sight before her. A low, muffled moan managed to escape through the gloved fingers of his body’s hand.

The body brought his hand holding the dagger to his face. Resting an index finger against its lips, the body signalled for silence.

“Shhhh, Bernise. I’m only here to keep those pretty lips of yours closed. Permanently,” the body said in a croaked whisper before plunging the dagger into Bernise’s abdomen.

Simion would’ve quivered at seeing Bernise shudder from the impact of the blade, but he had to body to quiver in. Crimson began to bloom from the wound. Somehow he could see the blood in this grey world he was stuck in. The splash of colour was all the more vivid due to its stark contrast to the world he could see.

Delight sparkled in his body’s eyes as it withdrew the blade from her body, rivulets of blood sliding down the darkened metal. Bernise, ever one to cling to life, tried to free herself from her constricting sheets and call out for help. The body’s hand was still firmly across her mouth though, which also kept her from moving too much.

Simion loss count of the number of times the dagger descended down into Bernise’s body. He knew it didn’t take long for her moans of pain to stop, and yet, the blade still descended. The sound of it was torture upon Simion’s imaginary ears; the sight of the blood was burning his imaginary eyes.

Finally, the attacks stopped and the body stood over what was once a living person. Drops of blood fell from the dagger held loosely to the body’s side. Simion could see his body’s eyes drinking up the scene before it, relishing every bloody moment of it. Simion watched as the body caressed Bernise’s cheek with his dagger, leaving a crimson smudge. Simion felt he was going to vomit from such a display.

A wry smile cracked the body’s lips as it wiped the dagger cleaned, sheathed it, and then proceeded to exit the house the same way it came. It even locked the door on its way out. All the while, the only thought running through Simion’s mind was this can’t be real… This can’t be real… This can’t…



Simion’s eyes fluttered up and he gasped aloud and stood bolt upright from his chair. He looked around and found himself back in his home, sunlight peeking through the closed drapes of his windows.

“It was a dream,” Simion said breathlessly as it only seemed moments had passed since he blacked out.

It was then that he looked down and saw himself decked out in his night time attire. The black leather was covered in dried blood. Simion felt like retching all over again as that all too familiar feeling rose up within his mind.

“Hope you enjoyed last night’s show,” the Voice cackled as Simion stared down in mute horror at himself.

[jack cloudy]

Hmm, I hate to say it but that Voice can probably function even with Simion death. What is needed here is a supernatural way of dealing with the problem. Mere steel won't work. Dang, that Voice is getting nastier every time.

Nice display in the 'dream' scene with the contrast between the grey and the red. And yes, I realize it wasn't a dream. It just sounds right to call it so.

Edit: I think you might be forced to start a new thread. You're getting close to the post limit.

This post has been edited by jack cloudy: Jan 6 2007, 10:57 AM

[canis216]

That was freaky. He's totally losing control... scary stuff. I guess Simion really needs help now.

[minque]

Uhhh......jeezers.....gulp, that was....bloody? And aye....you´ll have to start another thread pretty soon I gather...

My my Mallie, you are one of a kind!

[The Metal Mallet]

Hehe, glad to see the reactions I got from that post. To celebrate, I think it's safe to assume that this will be my last update post for this thread... Wow 10 pages of this stuff, I'm quite amazed. But do not fear, Bloodlust will continue on it's next thread! Here's the thread closer!


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Savlian was surprised to see dawn’s morning light beginning to pierce the sky when he stepped out of the entrance of Fort Falkrek. He didn’t think it would’ve taken the whole night to accomplish vanquishing Hlodir, but that seemed to be the case. That simple sight made Savlian also realise how exhausted he was.

That exhaustion was partially lifted as he saw the signs of victory surrounding him as the soldiers of Kvatch were celebrating victory. It seemed that many of them were happy to relieve the bandits of their booze, as many of them looked as if they had spent the remainder of the night drinking. One of them even stumbled up to the captain and handed him a bottle of brandy; a drunken smile fully enveloped his face.

Savlian smiled and cheerfully clapped his hand against the soldier and accepted the bottle of brandy. He took a hearty swig before passing the bottle to one of the soldiers that went into the Fort with him. Wiping his mouth, he thanked those around him and told the soldiers that travelled into the Fort with him to meet him in a day’s time in Kvatch where they were to be rewarded appropriately for their courage. His promise was greeted with eager and happy faces.

Dismissing himself from his men, Savlian went in search of Ormellius. He actually found him with the soldiers left to guard the bandits who decided to yield to the Kvatch soldiers. It was a smart decision, though they would be put into jail for a time, it certainly seemed better than death.

When Ormellius noticed Savlian, a great smile beamed across his hardened face and he gripped Savlian’s forearm graciously. Savlian returned the grip himself.

“Glad to see you’ve made it! I take it that our “problem” is solved?” Ormellius asked, before breaking down and chuckling to his little wise crack.

Savlian couldn’t help but laugh as well. “Yes, sir. Your “problem” has been taken care of,” Savlian replied, going along with the joke.

Ormellius motioned for Savlian to follow him as he led Savlian away from the battlegrounds. With their fun done, Ormellius returned to his usual serious self.

“If you had taken much longer, I would’ve knocked down that door and got you. Whether Hlodir was dead or not wouldn’t have mattered. I’m glad that he’s dealt with though,” Ormellius added before going silent a moment, “How many casualties did you have?”

“Only one. How did we fair out here?” Savlian inquired.

Ormellius turned back to face the scene of the battle. Despite the overall good feeling of victory, Ormellius still bore the burden of those men who lost their lives during the night. He could see, even at the distance they stood, the men assigned the duty to search through the bodies of the dead for soldiers of Kvatch.

“Last time I checked, we had 50 men lost, though I estimate we’re probably around a hundred now. It’s going to take most of the morning to bury the bodies and prepare transports for our dead and wounded; I suggest you get some rest while that happens. I am not going to burden you with duty such as that,” Ormellius said, avoiding any display of emotion whatsoever.

Savlian thanked the Count for the relief of duty, but despite being tired, he didn’t immediately go to a tent made up for him. Instead, he made a quick tour of the battle, observing those celebrating the victory, to those assigned the task of searching through the bloody battleground for their own men, some of which the searchers were bound to know. He even visited the captured men, whose eyes were all downcast to the ground; all ready accepting their confinement as armed pikemen kept guard around them. It was after all that that Savlian decided to rest.



Savlian was a bit surprised to find two of his men waiting exclusively for his arrival when the army arrived back to Kvatch after an uneventful journey.

Can they not even look after the city for two days? Savlian thought bitterly as he waved his men to him.

“We’re glad to see you survived the battle, sir. Unfortunately, we have a bit of an urgent situation that we think you should look at,” the foremost Guardsman said in a voice mixed with embarrassment and relief.

“What could possibly be so urgent?” Savlian said, his words slightly heated at the inconvenience of the discussion.

“Well, it has to do with the case you’ve been following. We’ve found another body; murdered in her own home this time,” the other Guard said regretfully.

Savlian reeled on the inside. Again!?

“I’m sorry for snapping at you. Indeed, you’ve done the right thing,” Savlian said apologetically, “Now, take me to where this scene is.”

His men led him away from the army procession and quickly into town. They took a quick route through side streets and alleyways until eventually Savlian noticed that they were entering the middle class residential district of the town. The district that Simion lived in.

Before he knew it, he was walking right past Simion’s home. He could feel almost a foreign, cold essence exuding from the home. His eyes stood fixed on the place, looking for signs of life.

“Sir? This is the place,” one of the guards said, snapping Savlian gaze.

“Oh!” Savlian said, slightly startled. His gaze then fell on the house. “Oh….”

Savlian stood before the quaint little home of Bernise. The woman who had noticed Simion supposedly removing a body from his home. The woman who Savlian had told that nothing would happen to her.

“Well…. Let’s head on in.”



As soon as Savlian saw Bernise’s bedroom, he immediately recoiled from the scene; he was too shocked and hurt to actually see what was there. One of the guards approached Savlian and asked if he was okay. Savlian simply waved him off. He needed to actually see the crime scene.

The scene was a bloody one. Bernise’s torso was savagely attacked, yet everything else seemed undamaged, the only blemish being a smug of blood wiped against her cheek. She looked frightfully pale, almost as if she was a doll. It sickened Savlian, that someone would do this. And now he was certain who was responsible. There was no coincidences that could change his mind. In fact, his previous thoughts disclaiming Simion was at fault for Madsen’s murder was just wishful thinking.

Simion was removing those who could incriminate him. He had broken his vow to avoid killing. He was going to pay. Savlian was going to ensure it.

Savlian had been so focused on defeating Hlodir, his personal grudge getting the best of him that Simion managed to kill freely once more. Now Savlian was paying for it with the death of someone he assured would be safe. He had to stop this madness once and for all.

He needed to plan a visit with Simion.

[minque]

He had to stop this madness once and for all.

So true! My god this is intriguing...Now I´m closing this thread, and let´s hope this story continues in another one!

Keep posting MM!

And here is the LINK to the continuation of this great story!