Stench from the South Pt. 01

"I'll call for him," Raela said, standing up.

A short time later, the tall, thin figure of Master Jakobus, the Royal Mage, was taking a seat opposite the King and Queen, and just alongside Balthus. As the Captain, the King and the Queen brought him up to speed, the vampire's eyes grew steadily wider, his expression increasingly furious, incredulous, and disgusted.

"The filth," he hissed afterwards, "they're hardly above mindless beasts, from the sound of things."

"I can't disagree," mumbled Balthus.

"I must admit, however, it is...strange," said Jakobus carefully. "I have never heard of a brigand attack such as this. You're quite sure that nothing valuable was taken?" He looked pointedly at Balthus.

"Not that my troopers and I could see, Master Jakobus. We found full coin purses, some jewelry, their silver all seemed to be in place, and all the equipment had been left behind."

"No brigand leaves gold, gems, or good steel behind," Jakobus said quietly. "I agree with the King-this was not about the money."

"So what do you think, Jakobus? Have you ever heard of a sickness or spell that might make a person or people crave the flesh of their fellows?"

"My Queen, I have spent over a century studying the magical arts-both light and dark-as well as the intricacies of the various scientific fields, and I can honestly say that I have never encountered an incantation or sickness that would drive its' victims to commit acts of cannibalism."

The room went quiet. The King and Queen looked at each other, worry etched into their expressions. Balthus looked at Jakobus, who merely looked back at him in silence. After a moment, the Captain cleared his throat.

"You said earlier, Raela, that you had guessed the nature of my visit. What did you mean by that?"

She sighed softly, clearly distressed by what she planned to reveal to him. "Yes. We've received word this past week about a pair of other brigand attacks that were...confusing, to say the least."

"How so?"

"Well," Raela said, "one involved a man and his wife who were traveling to Eastfinger to visit family. Apparently, several miles outside of town, they were set upon by a small group of attackers who bore no weapons-just came at them, no warning or apparent motive. Didn't even speak a word, according to the report."

"What-?"

"We didn't know what to make of it either at first," Cyrrel said. "They managed to get away unscathed, at least; made it to Eastfinger and reported the attack. The Town Guard rode out to investigate, but only found some tracks. Apparently the perpetrators had followed the couple for a mile or two, then just...wandered off, bearing south."

"That-"

"-Is not as strange or unnerving as the second report, Balthus," Raela interrupted. "A small caravan headed to Grayspire was set upon by a group of more than a dozen more attackers-all of them unarmed, and again without warning or apparent motive. Didn't demand anything, just attacked with their hands. One of the caravanners claimed that an attacker grabbed him, tried to pull him in to...bite him, or so he claimed."

"Was he hurt?"

"No, thank the Three. They managed to escape unharmed, all of them. Headed back to the closest village and made the report."

"Where was this?"

"Near Wistlund, I believe it was."

"Wistlund? That's only forty miles west of the Outpost." Balthus became lost in thought for a moment before he continued. "Amos Fessely had several bite marks on one of his arms when he arrived at the Outpost, and none of the remains at the farmstead-human or animal-showed any sign of having been brought down by blade, arrow, bludgeon, or even magic. They'd been...pulled down, it seemed. Pulled down and eaten on the spot."

"It all seems to fit, no?" Jakobus nodded, his voice was low and serious. "I do not find it remotely difficult to believe that these incidents, all three of them, might be connected."

"My opinion matches yours, Master Jakobus" said Balthus.

"Your report has convinced me that we need to take immediate action, and not just in Copper Hills," Raela said, sitting up. "We should send messengers to every last town, village, and private home in the south, from the Crystallines to the Gravestones. Every citizen not behind a wall should take whatever arms and necessary provisions they can carry, and head to the nearest walled settlement. Anywhere with a wall should be put on high alert and ready to report-or repel-an attack."

"Agreed," said Cyrrel, "and I think we ought to increase road patrols throughout the south. No caravan moves without an armed escort, and all non-essential travel should be restricted until we've tracked these lunatics down and put a stop to them."

"A wise course of action," Jakobus said with a nod. "We ought not take any chances, especially with crazed assailants who seek to kill and eat whomever they come across."

"Another concern I hold is for Nocturne," said Balthus, worry creeping into his voice. "These attacks all occurred within Ralleah, but what if these people, these...attackers, for lack of a better word, are operating there as well? Their own people might be falling victim to the same type of attacks as the Fessely family."

"Damn it, we're operating in the dark!" Raela brought a fist onto the stone tabletop. "We don't know how many of them there are, we don't know where they're based, we know nothing about their leadership-if they even have any-and, what's worse, we don't know how many others they might have attacked or killed already! Remember, the assaults we've been discussing are just the ones that we know about!"

"That crossed my mind," Crick said with a nod.

"We need to launch a full investigation, and we need to do it immediately after this new development" Cyrrel said softly, placing a comforting hand over his wife's. "Concurrently, we'll need someone to head over the border and into Nocturne-get to Grayspire as soon as possible. Madame Tristessa and her leadership need to know what's happening, if they don't already."

"You think these people might be operating that far south, my King? That their attacks might already be so widespread?" Jakobus' tone was not one of disbelief, but of worry.

"I don't know, Jakobus. I don't have any answers. I can only hope that Tristessa and her people are safe."

"Who would you send, husband?"

"I would like to volunteer," said Balthus, sitting up and placing his hands on the tabletop. "I'm a fast and capable rider. I can get there quicker than most. Send me, Raela-I'll get there quickly and quietly."

"You will not go alone," Raela said firmly. Balthus looked as though he were about to protest, but she cut him off. "I don't doubt your abilities, Balthus! That's not what this is about! This is about safety, pure and simple!"

"Companions will slow me down, Raela, and Grayspire is at least a week and a half's ride from here."

"I would send Jakobus with you, if he would be willing. Is that acceptable?" Cyrrel gave Balthus a nod.

"Gladly, my Queen. I should also like to bring Mattison, my assistant, along for the duration," Jakobus said with a nod. "He is a skilled combat magician in his own right, and I have no doubt that he would prove invaluable, were we to be set upon by attackers."

"I suppose I can work with that," Balthus grumbled. "So long as you both can keep up, that is."

"Chin up, Captain," Jakobus said, flashing a fanged grin from under his dark hood. "We'll get you to Grayspire just fine. You needn't worry about Mattison or myself, at any rate."

"Let's hope not."

"Enough griping, Balthus. They're both perfectly capable, and you'll likely be glad to have them." Cyrrel's voice was firm; his mind had been made up.

Balthus immediately felt a mixture of regret and embarrassment. "Apologies for my outburst," the Captain said, bowing his head. "I did not mean to doubt your wisdom."

Raela laughed. "I know you're used to doing things your own way, Balthus, being that you operate on the fringes. But please, just this once, humor us. I worry for your safety and for the safety of all those in our own south-as well as for the people of Nocturne. They might not even know what they're facing-and I would never forgive myself if I were to let you go alone, only to hear that you'd been killed getting there!"

"I understand, Raela. I will take the companions you've chosen for me without complaint, and we'll depart tomorrow."

"It makes my heart glad to hear you say it, Balthus. And I think that that will work just fine-now, let's find you a bed and a bath. You must be exhausted after your journey!"

*****

Balthus didn't know why he'd bothered hoping for clear weather before going to sleep that night. Waking up in of the Keep's many guest bedrooms, he'd peeked out the window which overlooked the Grieving Gardens and saw nothing but grey hanging up above. He sighed internally, pulled a change of clothes from his pack, then donned his travel armor and weapons before heading to the north dining hall. His timing was perfect: Raela and Cyrrel were tucking into their morning meals, while Jakobus and a second hooded man, whom Balthus could only assume was his assistant, sat alongside them. The pair of vampires both sipped intermittently from silver goblets as they talked. Did they prefer cattle or pigs' blood?, Balthus wondered for a brief moment as he sat down across from the small group.

"Good morning, Balthus! I hope the bedchamber was to your liking?"

"It was perfect. Thank you for putting me up, Raela."

"Excellent! And think nothing of it, friend, it was the least we could do after you came so far." She took a sip from her own goblet, then set it back down onto the heavy wooden tabletop with a dull 'clunk'. "Now then, Balthus, I'd like you to meet your second companion, Mattison Rhaeg. He's been Master Jakobus' assistant for several years now."

"I think you'll find yourself glad to have me," the younger-looking man to Jakobus' right said, giving the Captain a nod. "I'm well-trained in both offensive and defensive magic. I'll keep you safe, don't worry." The snark in his voice might have been subtle to some, but to Balthus it was as loud and clear as a Temple bell.

"I don't need you to keep me safe; I've been doing that myself for decades, lad. I just need you to help keep any lunatic cannibal brigands at bay, should we run across them."

He shrugged. "They're one and the same in my eyes, Captain. No need to be terse." He shot the Captain a brief, smug smirk that Balthus immediately wished he could wipe off using the pommel of his sword.

"Enough, boy," snarled Jakobus, shooting his assistant a dirty and impatient look, "we've got enough to worry about; don't add your waggling tongue to the list."

Mattison shrugged again and fell silent, though Balthus could tell that his ego had been bruised by Jakobus' comment. Smug fuck, the Captain thought. The assistant reminded him of the many recruits to cross his path who'd thought themselves bigger, stronger, and smarter than anyone else-and Balthus had never once failed to put those lads or lasses in their place on the sparring yard. He found himself wishing he could do the same with this snot-nosed assistant...just a little bit, anyway.

"I'll need to stop back at the Outpost," Balthus said, adamantly wanting to avoid creating tension before the trip had even fucking begun. "Lowell, my second-in-command, will need to be briefed, as well as be informed that he'll have to take over while I'm away."

"No need," said Raela with a nod, "we'll send our first courier to the Copper Hills as soon as we're finished here. Now, as for the specifics of this mission, they are so: the three of you are to take the Southern Kingsway directly into Nocturne-ride as often as possible; stop only to eat, rest, or water your horses. Keep a low profile; no spilling the beans about your goals to some barmaid or friendly stable boy after one too many brews-we don't know what, if any, prying eyes or listening ears these lunatics might have around."

"These people seem as simpletons to me," Mattison cut in, "not even intelligent enough to wear shoes, or cook their meat, so I am told. Mother above, they're eating people alive! Are we at all certain that they would be clever enough to-"

"What I am certain of," Jakobus snarled, turning to glare at his assistant, "is that it is extraordinarily rude to interrupt your superiors, especially when they are attempting to convey important orders and information! Now be silent, fool, or I will silence you myself!"

Again, Balthus could tell that the assistant was glowering under his hood. "Apologies, Master. My Queen."

Raela cocked an eyebrow at the young vampire before continuing. "Despite the inherent rudeness of both its' phrasing and timing, Mattison, I will deign to answer your question. What I am certain of is this: nothing. As we discussed the other day before your involvement, we cannot be certain of anything at all so early on; therefore, we would be wise not to make assumptions. After all, if the wrong person overhears the right words, their owner might report back to his comrades, who then might be able to lay traps-ambush you on the road, or even attack you in your sleep! Surely you must see the logic in that, Mattison."

The assistant, either having been cornered or simply not interested in arguing further, did not reply. He merely nodded, his hood shaking ever so slightly.

"Take the main thoroughfare all the way to Grayspire; it's the quickest way," Cyrrel said. "Take the back roads only if you are in imminent danger; don't risk getting lost, or worse, attacked where no one will see you, Three's sake! The primary objective: get to the capital, ensure that Madam Tristessa and her people are safe, and inform them of the threat-if she is unaware, that is. If so, inform her that Ralleah is standing by, and that we are willing to lend both military support and humanitarian aid to both her and the citizens of Nocturne-food, water, asylum, whatever essentials they might require, we will offer what we can."

"Understood."

"I would also advise," Raela said, "that, as you travel, listen to folk in the towns and inns. Listen for stories of strange and unusual activity; anything that reminds you of the reports we've heard, or the incident at the farmstead-anything that will help you paint a clearer picture of what the fuck is happening down south! Excuse the language," Raela said with a wry smirk.

"Also, avoid camping whenever possible. I know you prefer it," Cyrrel held up a hand, as Balthus was about to protest, "but I get the feeling that the further south you travel, the more dangerous things might become. We'll give you a healthy sum before you leave-use it for inns, every damned night. That is a direct order, Balthus-please, just play it safe. We don't know where these people might turn up."

"Understandable, old friend," Balthus replied, "we'll sleep indoors if at all possible."

"Again, Balthus, I appreciate your willingness to perform this service-not only for us, but for the entire Kingdom." Raela's gaze was kind, radiating gratitude. "You are truly selfless, and we will never forget what you have done."

Balthus bowed his head. "I only do the duty for which I am bound to perform, Raela. I am glad to see it done. Now, I would like to get on the road as soon as possible-Jakobus, Mattison, how quickly can you be ready to travel?"

"Almost immediately, Captain," Jakobus said with a nod, "we have only to fetch our travel gear and saddle our horses. We will meet you in the Keep's Stable as soon as you are ready."

*****

"Thank the Three that the rain isn't coming down as hard up here, at the very least."

"I suppose you'll have to enjoy it while it lasts, Captain."

"I've been through far worse, boy. Don't conflate discomfort with weakness."

Mattison's sneer, now entirely visible, proved exponentially more irritating than before. Balthus found himself wishing that he could grab the whelp by the collar of his traveling cloak and wrench him off of his horse-maybe a good tumble to the stones which made up the Southern Kingsway would adjust that bad attitude of his.

"Apologies, Captain." He placed a disdainful emphasis on 'Captain'.

"Pay him no mind," said Jakobus from Balthus' left. "He's convinced that he's above everyone else purely because he has the Blood and because he can cast a few spells. Too bad he repels every last woman he tries to smooth-talk, though-you'd think he'd put a stinking curse upon himself beforehand every time."

That sent the Master Mage and the Captain into a round of healthy laughter, as the assistant rolled his eyes and gazed off to the west, seemingly determined not to give them the satisfaction of seeing his irritation. Jakobus, still chuckling, pulled a skin from his belt and took a quick draw.

"I have to know," Balthus began. Jakobus, with a sly grin, cut off his question.

"Yes, there is blood in this skin. And it's quite good, frankly. Care to try for yourself?"

The vampire jokingly shook the skin at the Captain, who chuckled. Crick merely rolled his eyes and chuckled.

Now that Balthus could see the Mage's features in detail, he found himself convinced that no one-not even the craziest of brigands-would ever be able to pluck up the courage to attack their party with this man in tow. To start, he was tall-even taller than Balthus himself-and his deep-set eyes glinted like polished amber beneath thick black eyebrows. His complexion was pale as the dead, his cheekbones were high, and his nose and mouth almost appeared sculpted in their perfection. Atop his head sat a thick, well cared for crop of pitch-black hair. Over his body was draped a midnight blue traveling cloak, its' hood resting upon the vampire's shoulders. The rest of his attire was similarly dark, from his forest green long-sleeved tunic to his black trousers and thick, heavy boots. Balthus was willing to bet that the vampire could crack a human skull beneath one of those babies.

Slung over the Mage's shoulder with a treated strip of leather was his staff: six feet long, made from what appeared to be finished oak, and capped off with a finely-cut blue crystal that seemed to glow even despite the lack of sunlight to reflect upon its' surfaces. On his hip hung, interestingly enough, a wicked-looking dagger encased in a midnight black sheath. In all, Master Jakobus looked somehow both like a scholar and a fighter-not the typical short, chubby, bespectacled teacher one might expect to find in a Library or school. No, much like Balthus himself, it was clear that the Mage was made of much, much sterner stuff than most.

"Honestly, Jakobus, I was really just wondering if you were a pig or cattle man."

Jakobus flashed a fanged grin at the Captain. "Why, I choose what any cultured and refined vampire of modern times chooses-and that's cattle!"

"What about you, boy?" Balthus shot a smirk at Mattison. "Got a preference?"

"Who knows, Captain? I might prefer your flavor."

"Make another joke like that again, Mattison, and I'll turn you to slag-if the Captain here doesn't split you like a wishbone first, that is." Jakobus was clearly tiring of his underling's attitude.

"Fine. I prefer pig and chicken blood. Cattle is too rich for me."

"So you can tell the difference. I did wonder."

"Of course I can," the assistant snapped incredulously. "What, did you believe that our kind don't possess a sense of taste?"

Balthus laughed. "All right, I suppose I earned that one-maybe I was presumptuous."

Mattison rolled his eyes. "Just maybe."

The overall picture of Mattison Rhaeg was rather different one than that of his Master. Standing at around five-ten, pale of skin, and dark red of hair, he came off less as a powerful, knowledgeable spellcaster and more as a spoiled brat who'd made his way up the ranks due to nepotism alone (though, in fairness, Balthus based this impression solely on the lad's appearance and attitude). Skinny and clad in a black traveling cloak, his face was framed by semi-curls which hung free, swaying gently from both the wind and the motion of his horse. Balthus could tell the man wasn't quite as used to riding as himself or Jakobus, as he seemed to have to work just a little harder to keep his steed under control. It was refreshing, in a way, to see him struggle a bit-a far cry from the egotism he normally displayed.