A Routine Cleanup

It was three days ago, that Tiberius Thanos got a letter from his father Aurelios that there had been some increased bandit activity on the Thanin border with Seraphane. Tiberius was naturally overjoyed, despite knowing that his father would have not cared if he died in the ensuing fight or not. He didn't care about his father's attitude. He was a mutant and he knew that. But he was so excited to finally be out of Seraph's Thanin embassy. Taking a small group of guards, he readied himself to journey north to investigate the bandit threat. He pondered for a moment, about perhaps bringing the sage woman he'd met before. Irina. He could use someone with magic to help clear off the bandits if they were as organized as his father's letter said they were. He arranged for her to meet him in a local tavern in the trade district of Seraph, and he sat and drank a dark red wine from the under-the-counter stock. The bartender knew Tiberius from his regular visits, so the Thaninite ambassador was friends with the other regulars here.

When Irina had received the letter from Tiberius she had been surprised; since her last job had finished she rarely got correspondence from members of the ambassy (which was a refreshing change). The raven haired sage had agreed to the proposed meeting to sate her curiosity and because she had to admit that she found his company more enjoyable than the one that she could seek from people of his social status. The meeting point had also been surprising in a way; no elegant place or expensive local but a tavern in the trade district. Irina rarely visited places like that anymore, a consecuence of the social pressure; you couldn't be a "serious" sage if people caught you drinking beer in a tavern called something like "the hanged man".

She had adorned an attire meant to blend in and yet it had Irina's classical touch all over them, from the high boots to clothes that surrounded her body not much unlike a second skin. Her perfume, her pendant; details that would make the thaninite recognise her quickly or that she hoped. Irina entered in the meeting place, seeking him among the crowd.

Tiberius had waited for around an hour before the familiar scent wafted through the air. She was here at last. His mismatched eyes found her at the entrance and he waved to her in greeting, a small smile on his symmetrical face. He poured a second glass of wine, for his guest and nodded to her when she walked over to him. He was dressed in his purple tunic and brown trousers with knee-high boots. Much more comfortable than the livery he wore to fancy dinners. "Good evening, madam." He greeted her, and raised a glass. "Do try the wine, it's not as fancy as what's up in the cathedral district but it's still very tasty." He said before sipping again.

He waited a moment or two before starting. "I've received a letter from the Dictator my father. Seems there's some bandit troubles up north near the border. Something more than a small cadre, it seems. They're organizing." He pursed his lips in disgust. "I propose you assist me in...culling them." his eyes glinted. He was positively itching to get back into combat. He knew exactly where his armor and Hannibal were back at the embassy. "We'll be leaving in the morning. It will take us two days to reach the last point of contact with the bandits."

"Come on, we have already experienced a boring to death party and witnessed a duel togheter I think that you can call me Irina now" said the sage, amusement in her tone. She followed his advice and ordered some of the wine for herself, she would likely enjoy the drink the only flavour which wasn't specially her cup of tea was beer; few things tasted worse in this world than that. The wine was strong without being overwhelming which pleased the sage, she drank a little before turning her full attention towards him.

"Allright, I will help you" said the dark haired woman before taking another sip."There is anything else that you wish to discuss? You want to switch to banter? Give me any specific information that I should take into acount about Thanin just in case of that we need to go there?"

He cleared his throat. "Uhh...right. Irina, sorry." he scratched his chin thoughtfully. He was sure to keep his thoughts guarded in case she read them again. He wasn't too keen on having his mind read. He sipped the wine again and swirled it a little in the glass. "Let us address your questions then..." he smiled wearily. "Business first. If, in case we venture into Thanin, as might be likely depending on where the bandits are based, you should be fine in Thanin territory. The Republic is a meritocracy, and someone as capable as yourself and your face is symmetrical so you will be just fine."

He sipped his wine again. "Just... avoid challenging anyone to duels, hm?" he stated wryly. "As for other things we can discuss, I suggest you pack warm clothes for the mountains, and light clothes for the plains. I suppose you do not own any armor. And I assume you know how to ride a horse, wouldn't do to have a guest marching."

"When people talks about my face they tend to use adjetives such as beautiful, this is the first time that someone makes a reference to the symetry" said Irina raising an eyebrow not quite understanding what her face proportions had to do with her aceptance there "I see why they would react positively to my merits but I don't get the whole symetrical thing" Nature was chaotic, it was impredictable and imperfect in a way but that was what made it better. A calmed sea was more symetrical than a stormy one but which was the fun in that?

"I don't own any armor and I certeanly don't need it; I have my own horse, I'd rather ride on an animal that I have used before"

Tiberius cleared his throat at her response to his statement of her symmetrical face. "Ah yes...that. Well, Thanin has a cultural inclination towards symmetrical features and proper body proportions, of which you have both. Someone like me, however, with my multi-colored eyes are viewed as inferior at best, freaks and mutants at worst." he grumbled about his own disfigurement. "Alas, I only have horses to offer you for the time being. I am going to bring along a couple members of my entourage from the embassy... including ugh General Gallius, I guess." he combed his fingers through his curly brown hair. "Old friend of mine, if you're curious. We were in the 12th Legion together."

"Not the first time that I have received positive opinions on my body but this is the first time that someone has adressed my symmetry"Irina was no fool and she knew that she was attractive something that she could use in her advantage sometimes and another a complication, some people took her less serious as a researcher because she was "too pretty". "You have heterochromia, a mutation indeed but mutations were actually what helped us to evolve even if the mechanism is not clear" said Irina trying to lower the scientific angle "Nature is asymetrical, imperfect in a way; symetry is favourable in a physiologic point but if the function is not altered what is the problem? My eyes are violet thus a mutation in a way; that makes me unatractive to your country standards then?" asked the sage raising an eyebrow.

"I have no problem against working with people as long as they allow me to cast without standing on my way" said the brunette with a srugh.

He nodded, smiling slightly. "In Thanin, you'd be considered among the most beautiful because you are so well proportioned." he sipped his wine again and continued listening. His expression darkened at the mention of his heterochromia. "Your eyes match though, mine do not. Violet eyes and blue hair show up occasionally in Thanin but they are not considered mutations, they are treated as special, the mark of the gods themselves." he shrugged his shoulders. "Nature may be asymmetrical but my people's culture defies nature by enforcing symmetry in personal appearance, unless it's scars received in battle, those are not treated as ugly but as marks of honor."

He cleared his throat again. "Gallius is alright, he's just lazy. Intelligent, but lazy. But he is also one of the few people I trust with my back in combat."

"Well I will pay attention to see how many jaws drops when I travel across Thanin" said the sage with a hint of amusement in her eyes. My, she wondered what would be the thainites reaction at seeing her if Tiberius comments were accurate."With all due respect to your culture that's quite...stupid. Yes heterochromia as you said is a mutation but it doesn't affect your eye, you can see as a normal person so which is the fuss? Inteligence is what matters most after all.

Irina's lips pursed at the laziness, she had never been extremely fond of lazy people althought that might be a consecuence of her strict training in the academy "Well as long as he fights well I guess...that it shouldn't be a problem"

He shrugged his shoulders wanly. "Stupid culture or not, it is my home, and its people I represent in the embassy." he sighed again, downing the last of his wine. "Well you lack the blue hair to go with the violet eyes to be considered one of the gods' chosen, but expect a fusillade of compliments on your eye colour." He smiled a little again, then stood up, offering her a hand to help her to her feet in case she was tipsy from the alcohol. "Tomorrow we will ride north. I'm sure you'll enjoy doing something that isn't standing around at one of those bloody parties like I will." he said with a twinkle of amusement in his eyes.

You'll enjoy going back...but I won't. A thought reverberated inside the man that was set to himself in the far booth. With his Cerebrus armor on, he looked twice the size and took up the entire booth. He had his hand on his chin, looking somnolent and disinterested.

Gallus has not been sleeping much lately, having plenty of time to do so during his vacation leave. It was due to the rather forceful demands that Tiberius's father had passed to him before he left. There was a serious political matter going on around the borders, in which, he had took on...due to the sheer reason that any sword-ho general would have provoked and strained relationships with Seraphane. There was major problems among some of the Thanin towns having taken up a new religion, invoking the abnormality in the sky and its missionaries seems to have originated from Seraphane.  He had also received orders to crack down on possible group in a town that was not far from where his friend was ordered to take care of said bandits.

He has been here among the books that he borrowed from Seraphane. He had found a volume of Krev origin that had various problems that he found himself glued to, then wrote down his own opinions on a separate paper, without a care on whether he was right or valid. He opened his eyes to chat briefly common folk, as he had his informants in the town reporting their findings while receiving commands from him.

For now, he seems to be blissfully sleep, hearing enough of the conversation to be lulled away.

"I wasn't calling your culture stupid per se, I was only giving my opinion about a part of it; each single culture in this world is flawed thus the better choice is to walk your own path" Did her own culture have flaws? of course so Irina had decided to take the best from Krev and discard what she didn't agree with. "Why would I want blue hair? I think that black matches my complexion more wouldn't you agree?"

irina got on her feet quickly, after all she had only drank a single glass of wine "It beats for sure standing in a corner looking pretty" said the sage as she followed him. On the way out a book in a table caught her attention, it was a physics book that was quite famous in Krev because of how complicated was to interprete it. The sage had re read that book so much times that she almost knew it by heart but she was impressed.

He nodded to her and then pointed to the owner of the book that caught her eye. "Madam Irina, meet General Gallius Cato, Thanin Golden Army." he smiled a greeting to his friend. "Sleeping on the job again, Gallius?" he nudged Gallius with his boot. "Come on and say hello to the lady who will be assisting us up north."

"No, I decided to take up a tactical position, Tibby." Gallus responded in a more jovial tone, with his eyes still closed. He instinctively had folded his notes that he was writing on while at the same motion turned his face to Irina. "Good to meet you, Miss Irina."

While sounding so cordial, he nudged Tiberius in the leg with his boot. It was a 'We're going to talk later.' message that felt other than chill of Damion cobalt steel.  "From what I recalled, I'm off-duty until morning so I figured I can sit here and enjoy my few hours of freedom, maybe get a nap or two in." He told Tiberius with a leer.

"It's a pleasure to meet you mister Cato"said the sage wondering how could he have fallen asleep while reading such an interesting book. Irina had always someone that slept more because it was a necesity than because she actually enjoyed it; it wasn't uncommon for her to stay awake until ungodly hours althought she had to admit that her job allowed her to sleep until late in the morning if she wished.

"I have to admit that I am impressed, I have seen few people reading a book of that level out of the academy, physics aren't easy to understand after all. If you wish I can leave you two alone to catch up, I need to pack my things for tomorrow after all"

Tiberius smirked at his comrade Gallus. "Sleeping on the job is not conducive to a tactical advantage, especially if snuck up on as you just were." He murmured while rolling his eyes. "We're shipping out tomorrow. Get your gear." He said before bowing respectfully to Irina. "Tomorrow we'll meet outside this tavern and start our journey north. Till then, Irina. Gallus." he saluted both of them smartly and strode outside.

He headed back to his own apartments at the Thanin embassy and prepared his saddlebags and armor, as well as sharpened Hannibal again before turning in for the night. He was excited to finally be leaving Seraphane and slept with a smile on his face.

"You're correct. m'lady. In fact, this is probably one of the few books that doesn't bore me." He smiled at Irina, "I'll see you in the morning." Gallus waited for Irina to get out of earshot before turning to Tiberious.


"Equipment prepared, supply rations and route made since this morning." The lethargic tone didn't match with the furious glare he gave Tiberious just now. "I'm expecting you both around before light or I'm leaving with them in tow...and I'm not in the mood to slow down." He continued, losing his lazy voice completely.


Of course, the general's threat was no further objections from what he knows.. They reached the border after a few days and day earlier than expected. Gallus didn't slow since they departed, a clear indication what he spent most of his time in Seraphane.

Despite of the fact that she favoured to be in cities that didn't mean that the sage didn't knew how to adaptate to different circumstances; she had chosen to wear for this "little adventure" a comfortble attire composed of her typical colour choices, but comfortable nevertheless. She spent most of the trip silent, lost in her own toughts or in admiring the view from her horse.

They arrived to the border and for once in the whole trip the sage spoke "Well, were are the bandits?"

Tiberius had spent much of the three days of travel looking progressively more and more pleased and/or comfortable the further away they got from Seraph. He was looking forward to fighting some bandits and ne'er do wells just to prove he was still capable of fighting even after all this time as a diplomat. He also didn't talk much during their travel, though occasionally educated Irina on the intricacies of Thanin court life, as well as how to conduct herself once they were within his home nation's borders.

Once they arrived at their destination where the alleged bandit camp lay, Tiberius looked over at Gallus and Irina. "They're around." he sniffed the air. The scent of blood. "Upwind of us. Perhaps another kilometer or so." he gestured towards the nearby mountains. "Guards up, everyone. We do not want to be caught in an ambush." His multicolored gaze scanned the horizon and mountain paths. Something didn't feel quite right...

He looked up overhead. The Crack in the Sky's northernmost edge was around this area, but it seemed to be...pulsating? Like a heartbeat almost, the golden glow from it flickered in rhythm.

The hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end and he dismounted his horse. Despite the fact that it was mid day, the sun suddenly disappeared under a thick cloud and darkness swelled around them. Dark figures rose from the earth beneath them, wearing battered armor, ragged half-rotten clothes to match their half-rotted features. Undead? There were rumors of such things showing up along the Crack in the rural areas, but were discounted as hearsay. Now, Tiberius saw that these were not idle fantasies from country folk. Tiberius swore under his breath and he dismounted his horse and drew Hannibal and his shield, assuming a defensive stance to protect his fellow travellers.

-An hour prior, to the south-

"GET THE DAMNED TORCHES LIT!"

A hoarse voice came out of the darkness. Kiril immediately recognized it as belonging to Clavdius Sorus, a ex-Legionnaire turned caravan security chief. The Wolf looked to his right, a young guard with whom he just spoke a few moments prior was now frozen in place, an expression of fear on his face. Kiril felt no fear, but the sudden change of scenery, did startle him for a mere moment, after which he responded to the order by lighting his torch.

Kiril left Seraph a few days prior, signing up as a guard with a merchant caravan heading for Thanin. It was a perfect way to slip out of the country unnoticed, provided extra security on the road, and the few coppers it paid didn't hurt either. The Wolf downed a chain-mail and a tall helmet to stay true to his new disguise.

The journey proved just as uneventful as Kiril expected, until they approached the border region. Then began talk of being on high alert due to the bandits and highwaymen infesting the area. Chief Sorus spent two days prior getting his men up at the break of dawn and  practicing combat drills. Then suddenly, all went to hell.

The light of the torches cleared away some of the darkness and Sorus issued a command to prepare for battle. Ten of the guards split into two five men groups and assembled shield walls on the opposing sides of the road to protect the merchant wagons from the flanks. Kiril and four other guards joined Sorus at the front, to repel any attacks coming from up the road.

"Its just past noon! What sorcery is this?! Where is the sun!?"

One of the merchants screamed out in terror, no one replied. A minute went by, then another, and another, each felt like an eternity spent in deafening silence. The feeling was akin to being in the eye of the storm, until finally the storm abruptly unleashed itself upon its victims.

An arrow whistled by, and another and another, dozens of them, some hit the shields, one found its way into a guard's eye-socket. This was normal, Kiril could feel the men around him getting more confident as their training kicked in. Arrows were not spells nor dragons nor witchery, they were exactly what a soldier expected. Arrows had to be launched by men, men could be fought and killed. Each guard in the caravan has seen combat before, some were mercs, most were former soldiers from half a dozen armies, they all knew how this would unfold. Arrows first to probe the defenses, then would come a charge, soon, very soon, the enemy will have a face, a human face, one that can be stabbed, pierced, slashed.

The left flank fell first, a few screams of horror, some sparks from metal striking metal, and nothing, silence. Then the merchants began to scream as they abandoned their wagons and ran for their lives. Sorus was about to bark out the order to reinforce the left flank, then something rose out of the ground right behind him and drove a decaying dagger through the back of his throat. The other guards jumped back, Kiril lounged forward, his saber splitting apart the skull of an undead.

More rose out of the ground all around them, and more still, and the rain of arrows became thicker, the undead archers having no fear of hitting their own men. This was no longer a battle, it was now a slaughter. The few men who still had spirit enough to fight, fought, the rest attempted to scatter and were quickly cut down by their pursuers.

An hour went by, all men who fought, already found their end, all but one. Kiril kept slashing, kicking, and smashing bones and decaying flesh, saber and torch in hand. The Wolf dispatched his attackers with ease, but they were many, and he was starting to get tired, then an arrow finally found its way into his shoulder. He was loosing blood, he was loosing strength, but his survival instincts and his reflexes were still sharp, he continued to fight as the darkness grew ever thicker around him.

Kiril looked around, most of the horses were already dead but Sorus's horse, by virtue of being armored was still breathing, tied by rope to one of the wagons.

"Only one way out."

Kiril slammed yet another undead with his saber, breaking its spinal column, slid under another one, setting its rags on fire with his torch, managing to get closer to his only means of escape. He cut the rope and quickly mounted the horse, sending it into a fast gallop. There was only one direction to go and that was north, away from the darkness and the crack in the sky, as arrows kept whistling overhead.

When the sun dissapeared a shiver ran trough the sage's spine; she knew that likely this was more than an ordinary sun eclipse and her suspicions were confirmed when the undead rose from the ground. As a sage she couldn't fight like a warrior could but magic was a weapon as dangerous as basic strenght. She dismounted quickly, preffering to have her feet on the ground as she casted; Irina closed her eyes briefly aiming to hit the enemies with the power of the thunder. Being careful in order to not hit her own allies the brunette let the magic flow from her fingertips; the spell was powerful but still they were heavily outnumbered.

The fight had just begun.

"Not exactly." Gallus answered with contrary to Tiberious. "They're closer.  Bastion form, men! Do not lower until my mark!" He shouted before putting his helmet over his face.

The legionaries answered the command, a handful taking their tall Scutum shields and surrounded the group.  Gallus took the forward guard, which his massive armored form taking the 12th sun position in the formation.  He listened. Once...twice. Bow twang, many of them.  As soon as they enclosed themselves with the formation.  An arrow broken into one of the legionaire's shield but lost all momentum that it stopped midway into the shield. He heard a mild curse from one of the Bastion holders. Then another whispered, "Gods help us." Gallus did not wonder what the solider meant as he watched with his own eyes beyond his lupine helmet.

That smell of blood was too old for Gallus to agree with before, and there were times he hated being right.  The earth, soften by the rain from two days ago, gave away to the men that emerged from it. Men that were long ago had met their peace to whatever god they prayed for before a sword, arrow or the dibbles had took away their living breath. Their clothes were tattered by decomposition. Unfortunately, any metal didn't became brittle or derelict from the neglect and were still very potent weapons against living men.  There were too many that surrounded them, making the formation the best call to prevent the forces being scattered by the massive waves they were facing. One shield of men kept their shields to hold them back, while the others used their spears with the timely opening between in the shields to counter attack.

Gallus  moved aside calmly as lightning surged past him and struck the wave of undead that persist against him. He turned to Irina, "Don't worry. Just cast freely, you will not hit my men. They know what to do." His deep voice went though the helmet in a reverb, sounding more like a beast than a man.  This metal beast was probably the more aggressive of the bastion formation, tearing away the amass undead that approached with a short handle axe. As he punched head off of a dead shambler  with a metal fist, he listened  their numbers from the moans, they would need to leave soon. However, there was a sound that bother him... Horse in gallop. Was the another that are being attacked by the same enemy? It was a pain and a bother, but he could not ignore the possibility that local was escaping this madness somehow.  He did not announce it to the others just yet, but instead barked out various orders in preparation to leave and cover their escape. They had enough to think about right now.

Horrors and dead men rose from the battlefield, dozens of them. Tiberius instantly took up defensive position next to his fellows in the caravan. He rose his aspis shield and Hannibal, creating a shield wall around them with the others. Gallius he had noted, snapped to life as a leader, which impressed Tiberius enough to crack a smile despite their dire situation. Arrows came towards them and Tiberius shouted "Raise shields!" he lifted his in unison with the others, and they stabbed their spears outward to the oncoming undead.

This steady pace of combat lasted for several minutes before Tiberius noticed someone galloping towards them and fighting the creatures all the while. Tiberius called over to him "Over here! Get behind the wall!" He called over while he plunged Hannibal into the chest cavity of a monstrosity, cold blood splattered over his shield and face. Irina was supporting them with her spells, Gallius was leading as well as taking the brunt of damage in his own thick heavy armor. Tiberius let the rush of battle overtake him, pouring into the fight, deflecting arrows with his shield and constantly stabbing forward as the crowd of entombed closed in on them.

Sorus' steed was foaming at the mouth. The poor creature was going mad with pain, with over a dozen arrows of the undead sticking out of its hide. Its rider wasn't doing much better, another two arrows planted themselves into his back as he rode away. He continued to slash his saber left and right, cutting down the undead as he moved, his steed trampled any that came up from the ground directly in front of it.

The Wolf could feel his blood soaking into the clothing he wore underneath his chainmail. Warm and sticky it poured out heavily from his wounds. The right side of his body was beginning to go numb, his mind was starting to fog up.

"Getting....weak....is it...time now?"

He heard the strong voice resound from somewhere up ahead. It snapped him out of his daze, his eyes once again sparked with purpose. He reached into the pack he kept roped to his sash and pulled out a small glass bottle filled with a black liquid.

"Back to work...need to boost my adrenaline or I will collapse."

Uncorking the bottle with a flick of his finger he brought it to his mouth and chugged the contents in one sip. The dark, oily mixture burned like hellfire going down his throat, and continued to burn all the way down to his bowels. He raised his hand and clenched his fist.

"Its working....pain is dulled, and I have full control of my appendages but my mind is...calling for blood. Must control myself, must not overdo it...I am putting all of my cards on the table, even the ones that can end up killing me, if I fail, if I loose my grip, it is all for nothing. Effects will expire in about an hour, I will loose ability to move afterwards. Still bleeding...must close the wounds or I will collapse from blood loss before that ever happens."

He pulled out another flask from his bag.

"Can't do this in present circumstance....need to be on foot....need to brace for the pain or I'll succumb to the shock...."

He looked forward at the shieldwall assembled about one hundred meters ahead.

"When have I ever gotten this lucky before?"

The steed was dying a lot quicker than its rider, but the pain kept it moving forward at a fast pace. Eighty meters, seventy, sixty...Kiril stood up on top of the saddle at full height....fifty, forty....twenty....ten....The horse slammed into the ranks of the undead that were assaulting the shieldwall, and began its descent to the ground. The Wolf capitalized on that moment, pushing his feet against the saddle and making a great leap forward, passing over the heads of his enemies, landing with one foot on the edge of a legionnaire's shield, pushing off of the metal and front flipping behind the shieldwall.

Landing on his feet, he rapidly kneeled down, broke off the shafts of the three arrows sticking out of his body, pulled out the bits that were stuck in his flesh, and took off his chainmail and shirt. Grabbing a stick from the ground he put it in his mouth to protect his tongue, opened the flask and poured the entire contents
over his wounds, not sparing a drop. For a moment he could see the stars big as apples, right in front of his eyes, he gritted his teeth...the stick snapping in his mouth. The pain was...unimagianable...yet the procedure worked, the blood stopped flowing, boiling off once it touched the elixir, the wounds dried up in a matter of seconds, leaving three more scars to add to the collection of numerous others the Wolf has accumulated all over his body.  

Kiril spit out the blood from his mouth and got up to his feet.

"I do not have much time! I need to speak to the commanding officer! I have valuable information!"

His voice roared over the sound of battle.