The blood dripped from the mithril of his axe onto the body at his feet. He stood, in a daze for a second, looking at the once handsome face of the soldier he'd downed, before refocusing and readying his shield. A darkly robed figure was advancing, moving toward Lance's companion, one hand on a staff, the other forming the intricate movements of a spell.
"Come get me ya bastard!" Lance called out, pulling the man's focus to him. The acolyte turned, moving towards him. Before they could reach him however, they were lying on the ground, a pool of blood spreading across the back of the dark robe from an arrow wound. Lance looked over and nodded faintly to the woodsman.
"Good shot. Sorry I lost focus for a second."
"Be not a problem. Bear would have handled him if he got close."
Lance wiped the blade on the purple tunic of the man at his feet and sighed, kneeling beside the elven warrior, once likely a citizen of Arandor, then a thrall, eventually a taskmaster, disciplining his fellow captives. Lance searched the body, finding a journal, damaged and blood stained. A few feet ahead of him VelCrow searched the robed attacker. The ranger pulled out a small scroll on bright purple paper.
"It tells even more of the test subject," the ranger said, holding up the note, "Me thinks it be a worry for us."
"Likely so. Let's see what's in this book?"
They pulled themselves to the side, away from the rest of the camp, taking a second to look over the journal. Thumbing through the pages, most of it wasn't anything new. Most of it. A thrall fell on a crystal. The taskmaster had documented the reactions to the body, the changes, what he had witnessed. Lance shook his head reading it and compared it to some of the other notes they'd found.
The taskmaster's illustrations showed the grotesque transformation and went on further. Dates and drawings corresponding the bits of parchment. Lance motioned to VelCrow and the two headed out of the camp and showed their findings to Zared. For a few moments, the three sat around, reviewing the notes, the details. Alre's suspicions of a weapon were understated. Something to help Azamul "Ascend". They stared at each other for a moment. VelCrow absent mindedly started to fix up Zared's campfire, stoking the flames.
"What do we do now?"
"Not sure. I guess I stop dragging my feet," sighed the squire. It was time. Time to stop hindering his own growth. Time to do the task he'd been given some weeks prior.
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He woke up in the morning and kissed Celeste goodbye. She was one of the best things that had happened to him. He'd hoped, when they'd met, that he'd have a student, and instead ended up with a partner. The spoke shortly, she encouraged him as she often did.
He struggled to acknowledge her encouragement, but he appreciated it all the same, "I'll be home by the afternoon tomorrow, or send word if not. Love you."
He left his armor and weapons in a chest and walked outside, unhitching Jeremy and walking him over to the stables, stifling a yawn as he passed the reigns to VelCrow.
"Sorry to have you up so early Master VelCrow."
"That be fine me boy. The sheep were needing tending. Going to take good cares of old Jeremy here." Lance had little doubt he'd return to find Jeremy happier and better cared for than when he'd left him.
"Well, I appreciate it. I've a long walk to Edana. I'll see you tomorrow, Gods willing," the squire nodded, patting Jeremy again before he headed out.
"Divines be with you."
"And also with you," smiled the squire, making a sign of blessing to the older man. He started out walking, pacing himself for the journey ahead, as the dawn began creep over the horizon.
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Finding the mithril veins in Edana took a few tries to remember where they were, but in time Lance was again digging out the beautiful white ore he'd learned to work. He smiled, taking it to the forge and smelting it carefully. Without his normal gear, he lost some, but only a little. The sword and shield of his trial armor were allowed to be made of mithril. He sat and began to work the metal, carefully. It took longer than he had hoped but in time he had a blade and shield he was proud of. The rest of the mithril he placed in his pack, filling it with as much as he could carry.
He needed armor too, but per the rules, it could only be of iron. At the end of the day, no matter how well he worked iron, it would never hold like mithril did. He considered the time he'd spent on the sword and shield and chose to make the iron of his basic quality. Still, what many would consider fine enough quality and yet not up to the standard he knew he was capable of. He pulled out his watch. It would have to do.
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The sun was already sinking across the sea as he left the gates of Edana. The trek to the mountainside graveyard was a quiet one. No trolls or ettins. As he walked, Lance considered the upcoming parts of his test. Graveyard. Olverton. Castle. The castle would be the hardest of it all. Facing in order, Eradin, then Tyr, and finally Malik. He knew without his normal armor and weapons it would be a hard fight. He'd fought alongside all three enough to know a bit of their tactics and know how dangerous each would be. He would still make a decent show of it, but he knew well enough the three of them would not be easy. At least, he laughed to himself, if anything went wrong, they'd all be able to heal whatever damage they did to him.
It was near midnight by the time he reached the mountainside graveyard. The next step of his task, to pass the night in vigil and prayer here. He'd had sleepless nights before. He'd get through this one. But praying for a full night, he wasn't sure how to do. He looked to the graves in front of him and knelt before the first. He would pray for those buried here, to the divine on the grave marker, and should there not be one there, he'd simply pray to whatever might be listening.
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Kamalini, thank you for giving me the power to remain this night, to keep vigil, the drive and ambition to pursue this path and walk this journey. It was his last prayer as he watched the second dawn break since his last sleep. He rose, stretching carefully, picking up the load of mithril he'd gathered, and began walking southward.
Before long he arrived near the ruins of Olverton. He'd killed enough recently, but Tyr's instructions were to "Defeat them in combat". That was open to interpretation how he might do it. As he walked towards the ruins, he knew the brigands were already planning their ambush. Why keep them waiting. He walked towards the center of the ruins, clanging his sword against his shield, "In the name of the Order, surrender and repent from your ways."
A voice called out from one of the buildings, "You gonna stop us shiney boy?"
"Run now, or run after I whip your asses! Either way, I'm not leaving until I'm the last person in Olverton!"
The challenge had the expected result, as bandits began to charge him. He held his shield as they gathered around him, moving to block their blows. Finally, as they moved around him, he breathed in, the tiredness of the sleepless night fading. His sword flicked forth, beginning to counter the moves, striking back at the openings his enemies left. It was a matter of seconds before the brigands began to break rank and run towards the hills, "And stay gone! I won't be so kind next time"
Lance watched as they faded into the distance, taking a moment to look over his blade and shield, both showing sign of their first conflict, "Gonna have to polish those..."
He continued to journey southward now. He walked lighter now. The fight had given him an adrenaline boost. More importantly, it had showed him that despite the lack of sleep, and the lesser armor, he could still hold his own in a fight. He didn't know if he'd beat the senior knights, but he knew he could make them remember his efforts.
As he approached the castle, he shifted the pack of mithril on his back, stretching and pulling smiling confidently. He opened the doors of the castle, "Sir Eradin? I'm ready!"