1. Alistair #3
A chill coursed down Alistair’s spine. Perfect—another complication. “Undead have no need of such mortal trappings…which means they must be gathering supplies for someone else.”
“Necromancer,” Brother Kelvin hissed. Hate blazed in his zealous gaze. “I suspected as much when the abominations didn’t simply swarm the town. Evil has invaded these mountains, and it is up to the Order to purge it.”
Alistair shared the priest’s conviction, if not his religious fervor.
To him, the Light was nothing more than a tool, no different from his sword.
Still, the conclusion remained the same.
Mindless undead were bad enough, but if an insidious will guided their actions and supported them with dark magic, it was imperative Alistair dealt with it before the situation escalated.
His father’s fate offered stark proof of what might happen if he didn’t.
“I’m afraid there’s more,” Erys said, his tone almost apologetic. “Some spotted a strange light in the distance. I suspect it may be part of a ritual or spell, though its source has proven elusive.”
“Don’t forget about the kidnappings!” Liliana said.
“Four of my artisans vanished several days ago. Sacrifices, no doubt, stolen in the dead of night. And right as we were finishing up our last harmonite projects of the season.” She pinned Erys with a withering glare.
“I suppose that’s what happens when we trust in the fickleness of runeflame to protect us. ”
Erys bowed his head. “As I’ve told you before, without a worthy apprentice, I lack the strength to resolve the situation on my own. Hence our need to call upon the Order.”
“Then perhaps it’s past time you tried again to find a competent successor,” Liliana snapped.
Alistair studied Erys, wishing he could get a better read on the man. Was that why a graduate of the esteemed Arcanum lived out here in isolation—his version of retirement?
“Such matters are best left to the Church anyway,” Kelvin said, drawing Alistair’s attention. “The undead shall be purged by holy Light—and their wicked master along with them.”
Devout faith in the Light or not, Alistair nodded along with Kelvin’s pronouncement. A rough plan began to form. “Have the undead continued to steal your supplies?”
“Every few days like clockwork,” Erys replied. “We suspect their return tonight, though with a winter storm rolling in, they might postpone their raids until it passes.”
“Unlikely,” Alistair said. “Chill winds matter little to the walking dead.” His fingers played restlessly over the hilt of his sword.
No sense postponing his duty. That was one of the first lessons his father had drilled into him as a boy—a paladin never shirked their responsibilities.
“Show me where you keep your supplies. I wish to get a lay of the land.”
“Of course!” Maxwell stood, his chair screeching over the stone in his haste to rise.
The other three leaders followed his lead at a slower pace.
“Perhaps after that, you’d like to see more of Singer’s Rest?
The harmonite caverns are a marvel to behold, and the work in Liliana’s workshop rivals anything you might find in Qori.
I’m sure she’d be happy to give you a tour. ”
Liliana’s grimace suggested that was about the last thing in the world she wanted to do. “Whatever the honorable Knight desires,” she ground out through gritted teeth.
Alistair took pity on her. “That won’t be necessary. It’s been a long day, and I want to rest and meditate before the coming battle.”
Kelvin gave an approving nod, and Alistair looked away.
No doubt the priest assumed he meant to pray, and while that might be true in a sense, his prayers had little to do with his devotion to the Dawn Aspects.
Instead, they were a practical necessity to recover his dawnflame.
His body had consumed a considerable amount in the climb, and if the town leaders were right in what he faced, he’d need all he could get for the night ahead.
Alistair followed the others to the door.
Erys gave him a covert wave, followed by a wink and a thumbs up.
Merciful Light, had his discomfort been that obvious?
Dismissing the mage, Alistair stepped toward Maxwell, stopping when a hand fell on his arm.
He turned to find Brother Kelvin smiling benevolently at him.
“It warms my heart to welcome a fellow man of the Light here.” Kelvin leaned in and continued in barely more than a whisper. “The others mean well, but their faith leaves much to be desired. I look forward to reporting your success to the Order in exacting detail.”
With a final pat on Alistair’s arm, Kelvin slipped outside.
Alistair stared after the priest, unease prickling his skin.
Was it his imagination, or had there been a veiled threat in Kelvin’s words?
Shaking his head to clear it, he forced himself to adopt the stoic calm people expected of a paladin and joined the mayor.
Let the priest posture. Tonight, Alistair would prove himself more than capable of ridding the world of a few pesky undead…along with their necromantic master.