Hedge Knight

A crowd had formed in front of the Sword’s shrine, far greater than the one that had participated from the day before. Were Helbram to guess, it was as if the entire town arrived to see what the pillar of light was, as he saw both townsfolk and traveling adventurers alike amongst the crowd. He and his group had come as well, but even with his aversion to the Sword he felt that he needed to see what was going on. He felt drawn… compelled to its presence, as if something were pushing him towards it.

“The Sword called us here,” Elly said as she walked up next to him.

Helbram nodded, “Was it a spell?”

Elly made an uncertain gesture, “Perhaps. I have heard of spells stored within objects but generally those require activation by the one wielding it.”

“Given its supposed sentience, would it be possible for it to activate such an effect on its own?” Helbram said as he started towards the Shrine’s doors. They remained sealed with everyone, including Marjorie and Marcus, standing right outside of it. The crowd had grown to such a size that it started to wrap around the building itself, and there was a steady, low roar of conversation rippling through the area.

Elly tapped her chin, “Perhaps, I must admit my experience with sentient weapons and their properties are a bit sparse.”

Helbram turned to Jahora, who was riding Leaf’s shoulders to get a better view past the crowd, “What about you?”

Jahora shook her head, “I won’t be of much help either, I’ve heard tales of weapons with minds of their own, but I’ve not handled one.”

Helbram tapped his hand to his chin, “I see, perhaps Sophia who cast the spell then. That would be the simplest solution.”

“That would be quite the feat,” Elly replied, “given that, at most, she is a caster of the 3rd circle.”

Leaf cocked his head, “Now how do you know that?”

Elly tapped under her eye, which gleamed with a faint purple light before fading back to their usual gold “Tis easy when you have experience with manipulating Aether yourself, though more experienced mages are capable of hiding such information,” she shrugged, “As composed as Sophia is, her control over Aether is… odd.”

“How can you tell?” Leaf asked, “I haven’t seen her cast any spell.”

“For one, she possesses no Circles at all,” the scholar explained, which brought a surprised look to Helbram’s face, “Unusual, but not improbable. There are branches of magic that do not focus on the use of Circles as their methods of control, but such things are in lands far far away from here.” 

Elly flicked her hands out and produced a small tongue of white flame in one and a white circle in the other, “What is common between all aspects of magic, however, is the absence of any radiation of Aether from one’s body,” she held up her hand with the circle in it, “for the type of magic we’re most familiar with, a Circle represents not only the quantity of Aether one can manipulate, but the degree of control that one has over such a force,” she held up the hand with the small flame in it, “Given that Aether is an external force fueled by the environment itself, it is unusual for an individual to radiate it, and in such an unusual color like the silver Aether that Sophia possesses,” Elly shrugged, “unless she were burning away the very Aether that composed her physical body, but given the volume of energy… she’d have died long ago were that the case.”

“I see… perhaps, given her position as Maiden, she is merely serving as a conduit of the Sword’s Aether,” Helbram suggested.

Elly nodded, “That is what I suspect as well. If the Sword can provide her with enough power to match a mage of the 3rd circle… it must be quite powerful indeed.”

Helbram remained silent.

Jahora tapped the top of Leaf’s head, earning an irritated grunt in response, “The door’s opening!” she explained.

The crowd lurched forward as the doors of the Shrine opened. Sophia stepped through, closing the shrine behind her. She wore a similar dress to the day before, and though Helbram stood towards the back of the crowd he could see a calm stillness to her features. Too still, too calm.

“The Sword has spoken,” she said, her voice ringing with an ethereal, metallic tone that traveled through the air with an unnatural clarity.

The silence blanketed the crowd following her words. Marjorie stepped in front of them all and eyed Sophia, but as she opened her mouth to say something the Maiden raised her hand.

“Those chosen by its light must pass a test to prove their worth,” she said, “a foe of great strength has made its hovel in the forests beyond. The first to slay it shall prove their worthiness.”

Majorie eyed Sophia with a look of annoyance, “Do we know what this foe is, or does the Sword choose to withhold such information from us?”

Sophia returned Majorie’s stare with an impassive one of her own, “That is part of the test, but if you wish for a hint, know that animals and nature itself bow to its command.”

Helbram tapped his chin, then paused.

The Hawk sighed, “A load of good that does us,” she straightened up and rested a hand on the sword strapped to her hip, “But if it’s a hunt that it wants, then a hunt it shall get.”

Majorie pushed her way into the crowd. Geren and Holden followed after her.

“She certainly seems confident,” Leaf remarked as he followed the Hawk with his eyes.

“I’m not surprised, if she’s earned enough fame to be known around the Freemarks she must be quite experienced,” Elly remarked. The pen in her hand skittered across paper as she continued to jot down notes.

Helbram returned his attention to the crowd, whose' gaze followed after Majorie. No attention was given to  Marcus, who looked at Sophia with shock. The Maiden returned his gaze, giving him a brief, apologetic look as she turned away from him and walked back into the shrine. The young man followed after her, and Helbram could not help but feel pity for him.

“That’s that then, right?” Jahora said, “as sad as it is for the boy, there is no way he’s going to be able to keep up with an experienced adventurer like Majorie.”

Helbram tapped his foot on the ground, “I’m afraid things are not that simple.”

The Thaumaturge cocked her head, “Pardon?”

“The target of the hunt, a powerful foe that has both animals and nature at its command. The only thing I can think of native to these parts is a Troll,” he explained, “and unless one wandered in from the Broken Lands somehow, they tend to be fairly docile. If this is the Sword’s ‘great foe’ then the Hawk could be on her way to hunt innocent prey.”

Leaf eyed him expectantly, “You’re thinking of beating the Hawk to the target first.”

Helbram nodded, “Sword’s command or no, I am not won’t to let possible innocents fall victim to the games of ethereal beings.”

His lithe companion sighed, “I suspected that was the case” he frowned, “what if the Hawk is already on her way?”

Helbram shook his head, “She’ll be taking the day to gather information and prepare. Docile or no, one does not contend with a Troll on a whim,” he paused and regarded the party, “your participation in this, of course, is of your own volition.”

Leaf grunted, “Someone has to keep an eye on you.”

Jahora nodded, “I concur, you have a tendency to get yourself into trouble.”

Helbram scratched his head, “Just sometimes.”

Elly snorted, “More than none is more than enough,” she slipped her notebook into her waist, “I am with you, but I confess I am most curious to learn more about the Sword as well, and this may provide some more insight into its nature.”

Helbram smiled, “Much appreciated, all of you,” he let his smile fade back to a more serious expression, “but we’d best start now, there is a lot to prepare.”

To their fortune, Southsheer’s markets were relatively empty following the events surrounding the shrine, and they soon found themselves within a blacksmith’s shop. Unlike the one in Goldshire, this store hid its forge in the back, and though Helbram was disappointed that he could not see the artisans at their work, he had to appreciate the variety of weapons on display. Though he was in no need for a sword, he still perused the wall at which they were displayed, noting that there were a few attempts at replicating the Sword’s shape. Beyond the varying lengths of the blades, all attempted to mimic the twisted fashion of the Sword’s handle with varying degrees of success, but none managed to match its splendor.

He shook his head and turned his attention away from the wall, finding interest in a barrel that was filled with rudimentary spears. He grabbed the haft of one and pulled it from the barrel, nodding in approval as he balanced it horizontally in the palm of his hand.

“Here for a spear are you?” The shopkeeper -a middle aged woman in an apron and headwrap-, said, “I assumed from the sword on your hip that you'd be in the market for a replacement.”

Helbram spun the spear, muscle memory allowing him to move with a familiar grace and tapped the bottom against the floor, “As fond as I am of my blade you can never go wrong with a good spear,” he explained as he looked at another wall which held a simplistic warhammer against it, “or a hammer for that matter, but I’m afraid my purse is limited.” he walked up to the counter and rested the spear against it, “A spear is a far more economical choice, and it is not too often you find one so finely crafted.”

The shopkeeper smiled at him, “A sweet talker are you?”

Helbram grinned back, “Merely a speaker of the truth.”

She snorted, “My son will appreciate the compliment,” she held her hand out, “if you would hand  it to me please.”

Helbram gave her the spear and she looked it over, running a hand over smooth wood and making sure the fit of the spearhead was nice and snug, “Aye, this is definitely one of his finer works… the lad might be able to get out of his apprenticeship soon,” she looked back at Helbram, “For your kind words… 30 marks.”

He fished the coins out of his purse, “Gladly, I shall take good care of it.”

The shopkeeper handed him the spear and he stepped to the side as Jahora walked up to the counter, three daggers in hand. Like the spear, they were simplistic in make, but of fine quality.

“I shall take these!” the Thaumaturge said with a smile.

Helbram was surprised that she needed such weapons, as she never expressed interest in such weaponry, but he left the Mage to her business and walked back towards the center of the store and made note of Leaf examining a short sword. Helbram had seen the archer wield a dagger with surprising efficiency, but he’d not seen much of Leaf’s skill with a blade in combat.

Leaf gave the sword a few practice swings with the blade, its darkened  steel blade cutting through the air as Leaf moved with a sharpness that Helbram had grown familiar with.

“How does it feel?” he asked as the lithe man sheathed the blade.

Leaf flicked the scabbard absentmindedly, “It’s good. Just thinking I need a better weapon for dealing with any bastards that come up close.”

“A short sword would be a good choice,” Helbram admitted, “quick to draw and easy to carry. With your Awoken abilities it should make for a fine weapon to fall back on,” he took the weapon from Leaf and weighed it in his hand, “Good balance as well.”

He tossed the weapon back to Leaf who nodded at Helbram’s approval, “That settles it then,” the archer glanced around the store and paused as he found what he was looking for, “I could do with a few more arrows as well.”

Helbram left Leaf to his own devices and looked back to Jahora, who was humming as she walked towards him, newly purchased daggers in hand.

“A single dagger as a defensive tool I understand,” he remarked, “but I am not quite sure why you needed to purchase three.”

Jahora beamed at him as she strapped one of the daggers to her waist, though with her size it looked to be the equivalent of a shortsword. She held the other two up with a confident look in eyes.

“For all my talk of my family’s talent in Artificery, I have yet to have an opportunity to display such skills. I aim to change that.”

“You mean to fashion a magical item within the space of a night?” Helbram asked.

She beamed at him, “Indeed! Although I would consider this to be a temporary measure. Something we can use until I really have time to perfect it.”

Helbram stroked his chin, “I see… well I do trust your capabilities, just be sure to instruct us on its proper use before we head out.”

She nodded, “That is the beauty of it,” she made a stabbing motion with one of the daggers, “All you have to do is stick the pointy end into the opponent and I’ll take care of the rest,” she flinched, “not to kill the troll of course, but I needed some way to make sure the effect will anchor into them.”

Helbram frowned, “Should it come to that, my hope that all this preparation will only be a formality.”

“Yes, but you know what they say, ‘hope for the best, prepare for the worst,’ “

Helbram sighed, “True… we will just have to see for ourselves.”

Leaf joined them, his new weapon strapped to his waist and a host of new arrows in his quiver, “That should be everything then…” he said as he looked over his gear, “We should meet up with Elly back at the tavern.”

“Yes,” Helbram agreed. He looked to Jahora “speaking of formalities, there is something I did wish to discuss with you before we headed out.”

Jahora cocked her head, “Does it concern our weapons?”

Helbram smiled, “Yes,” he rested the spear against his shoulder as he started to walk out of the building, “I mean to approach the troll with no weapons at all.”

“It’s a flaming stupid idea is what it is,” Leaf said.

They were back at the Tavern, and Helbram’s skeptical friend sat on the bed across from him in their room. Their gear sat between them, with Elly peering over it as Jahora occupied the room’s desk. A steady rhythm of tinks filled the silence as the Thaumaturge used a small hammer and chisel on the daggers that she purchased, though Helbram could only guess what her plan was.

“I must say that I agree with Leaf’s assessment,” Elly said, “though Trolls may be docile in this region, according to you, it would be folly to attempt to approach them with no means of defending ourselves.”

Helbram held his hands out, “Now now, you’ve hardly let me explain myself,” he motioned to Jahora, who was too occupied to notice her party’s attention, “My intention was to let Jahora store our weapons out of sight while we approach the Troll. You cannot tell me that approaching them fully armed would aid in our diplomatic efforts.”

Elly tapped her chin, “That… does make sense when you explain it that way.”

Leaf frowned, “Well why didn’t you bloody lead with that?”

Helbram stared at him with a dull expression, “I distinctly remember a certain half elf ranting the whole way here without letting me speak a word.”

Said half elf scoffed, “It’s not my fault that you weren’t assertive enough.”

Helbram sighed, “Moving on, my point still remains, we need to approach the Troll as peacefully as possible if we wish to open up a dialogue.”

Leaf leaned back against the wall, “Are you certain that they will even speak to us? I’ve met a number of Trolls myself and none of them were the talkative type.”

“We can only try,” Helbram admitted, “Even if we get no response they will have at least been properly warned.”

Elly looked at the two of them with an inquisitive expression, “I was not under the impression that Trolls were able to communicate with man.”

Leaf clicked his teeth, “I wouldn’t say that it’s an open dialogue, just more a mutual understanding. We don’t press them, they don’t press us.”

“All the more concerning that the Sword would be designating it as a target,” Helbram added, “Even within the Six Kingdoms Trolls are normally left alone. There is no telling what such a primal force is capable of under duress.”

Elly cocked her head and pulled out her notebook, “Are they that powerful?”

Leaf snorted as the scholar started to jot down notes, “It depends. Like with most living things there tends to be a hierarchy of Trolls. The more powerful the Troll, the more hold that they have over nature itself,” he explained, “I’ve heard tales of entire forests being under the dominion of a single Troll, though those tales come from the Broken Lands, and half of what is said about that place is pure fiction.”

“Such mastery of nature is only possible due to Trolls being natural fonts of Aether. Where man must master control over external energy through focus and practice, Trolls are capable of manipulating Aether as easy as breathing,” Helbram added as he rested his chin on his hand, “Consider them the Aetheric equivalent of a Quetali, though far larger in size.”

Elly stopped writing, “That certainly does seem formidable… and we’re just going to walk up to them?”

Helbram nodded, “Yes. Given that no one in town knew of any Trolls I suspect that it must be in the middle of migrating…”

“And how do we intend to communicate with it in the first place? I can’t imagine they speak fluent Common.”

“Some do,” Helbram explained, “but communication with Trolls is more related to… intent,” he noted Elly’s confused expression, “given their resonance with Aether they are able to interpret emotion much more thoroughly than others. What may take around half an hour to explain over dialogue could be explained in a single glance.”

“And are we capable of interpreting their intent so efficiently?” Elly inquired.

Helbram shook his head, “I am afraid not, unless we were mages of a higher circle that is. I suspect your master would be able to communicate with them quite effectively.”

Elly sat down on the floor and closed her eyes, “Indeed… in that case I shall leave the dialogue to you.”

“Aye, you’ve the mood to handle these things better than me,” Leaf said.

Helbram snorted, “Perhaps if you were not so perpetually grumpy you’d be better at such things.”

Leaf scoffed, “Someone needs to be the skeptic here.”

Helbram sighed, “I suppose so. I shall do my best.”

As he spoke, a knock sounded from their door. He stood up first and made his way to it. As he opened it, Marcus stood in front of it. His eyes darted from side to side, and from the way that the younger man’s head was inclined Helbram could only guess what he was about to ask. He met the Sword’s chosen outside of his room, adopting a relaxed pose to alleviate some of Marcus’s nervousness.

“Hello Marcus, to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked in a soft tone.

The younger man glanced up, meeting Helbram’s eyes for only a moment before casting them down once again, “I need your help.”

Helbram knew exactly what he was talking about, “You’re requesting that I assist you in slaying this “great foe” the Sword speaks of, correct?”

Marcus nodded fervently, “Everyone think that Marjorie will be the one to succeed… and they’re right. I can’t beat her, not on my own.”

“And so you come to me,” he frowned. He suspected that Marcus would ask for assistance, but he had not expected the young man to ask him specifically, “Does it count as you defeating the foe if you had assistance?”

“Majorie has assistance too! Those two men that are with her.”

“Yes, but Majorie also happens to be the strongest of her group,” Helbram explained, “Could you claim the same?”

The eager man faltered for a moment, “What would you have me do? I can’t win, not without anyone’s help,” he grit his teeth and clenched his fist, “I need this, not when I’m so close.”

Helbram could not help but feel pity for Marcus’s plight. He knew the emotions that were running through the younger man, for they were ones that he had felt so often in his own earlier years. That desire, that drive, there was little in the universe that would convince Marcus of pursuing it otherwise.

Yet still, he had to try.

Helbram placed a hand on Marcus’s shoulder, “I am afraid that I cannot help you Marcus.”

The man glanced up at him, hurt and anger in his eyes. He shrugged off Helbram’s hand and stepped back from him, “You don’t think I can do it, don’t you?”

Helbram frowned. He knew that Marcus did have potential given how quickly he picked up his advice earlier in the day, but he was nowhere near the point to contend with something like a Troll.

“If you had more training, perhaps,” Helbram said in a measured tone, “but you do not have the time for that.”

“Which is why I need your help!” Marcus exclaimed, his tone was loud enough that Helbram was sure that it could be heard below, “I’ll give you whatever you want, please. Just help me.”

The desperation in Marcus’s eyes made him falter.

“For so long has everyone told me that I would not amount to anything, for so long have they all told me to give up on my dreams… Yet the Sword chose me. I am so close, so close to fulfilling a dream that has remained an impossibility all my life, and even in that I am told that it is impossible.”

Helbram grit his teeth, fighting down the pang of pity, the spike of pain from feeling long past.

“Tell me,” he began, “if my party and I were to assist you, what do you think would happen?”

Marcus looked at him in confusion.

“We take you to this foe, we assist you in defeating it. That is the ideal outcome to be sure, but how likely do you think that is when you can barely hold a sword?” Helbram spoke with an exaggerated bitterness, keeping his face straight as he saw his words cut into Marcus, “What is more likely to happen is that you will do something reckless, do something that will put yourself in danger.”

“I can take care of myself!”

Helbram stepped forward, “Yourself sure, but I know my companions. If they were to see you in danger they would no doubt try to save you,” he kept walking forward, the force behind his step and words forcing Marcus back against the wall as he loomed over him, “and if they were to get injured in the process? Could you bear the responsibility of endangering them? Of forcing me to place them in such a situation? Can you safely say to me that you will not place my friends in danger with your own incompetence?”

Marcus looked into his eyes, the desperation slowly fading as Helbram channeled an anger that he still did not know he had. He did want to dress Marcus down like this, and were he granted the time he would no doubt give the man enough guidance to accompany them. But they did not have the time, and he did not want Marcus endangering himself recklessly. Not as he  himself had so many times before.

The younger man cut his eyes away from Helbram’s gaze and walked away. He walked with a rushed pace, one that Helbram could only feel out of embarrassment, but mostly of anger. He knew that posture, that step, and he knew what Marcus was going to do.

He cursed and walked into the room, the eyes of the other’s regarding him with a mix of surprise and concern.

“Change of plans,” he said, “we leave tonight.”

Author’s Note: I aimed for some more lore as well as delving somewhat into Helbram's psyche towards the end and I think I did a decent job, but there is still more that I want to go over and I'm gonna try and show more of that in future chapters.

As always, have yourselves a wonderful day!