Dame Paynifier Ahalin

The Blackguards of Deepwatch II

Through the stand of dark trees the undead mage had tried to shelter in earlier, the sounds of rustling leaves and snapping twigs could now be noted by even the most amateur ranger. There slowly shambled a band of undead, larger than the earlier pack. Its size and Caenarfon’s estimation brought a grim smile to Paynifier’s face. She spoke quiet instruction to the party of paladins, “Sir Valis and I will remain here and hold their attention.  Caen, you and Brothers Owen and Bromley sit up on the rocks we came from, and attack their flank when they move in on us.”

With that the group broke.  Caenarfon and the young knights slinking back up to the rocks while Paynifier straightened, and gave Valis a feral grin.  A quiet moment passed as she waited for the trio to ascend the rocks, the shuffling and groaning of the incoming undead growing closer. With some dramatic flair to her stride and sweep of her dark cloak, she strode through the woods into plain sight of the shambling horde, and called, “Curs, come forth!  I have a quick death for you and your masters who cannot count or do math!” She punctuated the taunt with a strike of the flat of her sword against the black round shield she carried.  Looking like a target, her shield was painted with the stylized rendition of a sunset on the waters of Deepwatch where her iniquitous, estranged family reigned.

Valis uttered a prayer, gripping his hammer, and called his own battle cry to catch the undead’s attention, “By the glory of the Holy Light, be cleansed!”

With this taunting, the undead eagerly rushed the pair of paladins.  They roared and moaned in horrible, miserable, sad noises as they advanced on the sharply contrasting and easily visible knights in white and black.  As the first of the undead reached the dame’s ready shield, there was a clamor and clatter from the hillside, punctuated with an explosion of Light. Ceanarfon’s calling of Light disintegrated the closest shambler to him and held the others along the flank dazed as he and the two younger paladins yelled out their battle cries and prayers.  Their charge from the hillside gave the two younger men and their hammers terrible momentum, and the stumbling and confused undead were easily crushed and folded.

Those undead in front were still engaged with Paynifier and Valis with some fury, but to little avail. They found themselves constantly turned away by the sword and shield of the swift dame, each attempted attack shocking them with Light.  Continually stunned and crushed by Valis’ hammer, and needled by the strikes of Light, their final rest came from behind as Ceanarfon and the young knights closed their trap.

Quickly as they had come, the undead were turned to dust, and the ringing sounds of battle came to deathly silence in the dim woods.  Paynifier kicked at some of the smoldering ash on the ground, and dusted off her tabard after sheathing her blade. She briefly picked at a new rent in the dark cloth of her garb; if the blow had caused her any harm at the time, it seemed forgotten now.  “Well, that was it. They must have only sent enough for three, Sir,” commented the dame to Ceanarfon with an indigent and dismissive sniff.

“If that.”  Added young Sir Owen with a rueful chuckle and dense farm-boy sort of smile.

“Why didn’t they send more?”  Asked the other young paladin, Bromley.  A slightly disappointed whine crept into the puzzled question.

“There is much we don’t know yet about the Scourge, Brothers, but, with your aid - working together - we can unravel these mysteries and come to defeat it, once and for all.”  Ceanarfon eagerly interjected, stepping up to the young knights, eager to take them into his conspiracy to test and tear apart their horrible enemy, point by point.

“What if there were not enough corpses nearby?” Wondered Bromley to Ceanarfon, as the stronger, broader, younger men flanked either side of the holy paladin, eager to walk with him back to camp.

Overhearing the budding conversation seemed to bring a rueful smile out of Paynifier.  Valis looked at her a moment, trying to ascertain what had really happened in this engagement with the infamous Blackguards of Deepwatch this afternoon.  She shrugged at him, brought forth a handsomely charming smile, and moved to inspect the battlegrounds. Valis shook his head and finally relaxed his face from the scowl that had cursed it for most of the encounter.

With Paynifier standing in silent watch over the little battlefield in the woods, Valis uttered a few last prayers, consecrating the grounds to, hopefully, keep the plague at bay.  The leaf litter was thick, and the underbrush looked wilted and stressed, as though it had been enduring a drought. Slowly this Scourge that had tormented humanity so was catching and affecting every living thing.  At his prayers, what remains of the undead there were smoldered and turned to ash and dust on the forest floor. Could it serve to help regrow the land? He considered silently to himself, and then immediately chastised the moment’s fantasy.  Light, now Ceanarfon’s insanities were catching on to him. Done with his rituals, he nodded to Paynifier, and they followed after the three new fast friends and their discussions on the methods of the undead army.

“He does not stop.”  Observed Valis to Paynifier, the tall woman striding easily beside him.

“Nay, they’ve not sent enough undead yet.”  Replied Paynifier’s warm voice, lit with humor.  She grinned wolfishly, and Valis sent her the sort of uncertain glance of one unused to jests in their holy work.  She covered smoothly, and continued to observe, “Brothers Owen and Bromley have turned out well, Sir.”

Pride was visible on Valis’ bearded face, having mentored the pair through their training in the Silver Hand.  “They work together as a team well.”

“Aye, I am envious.  They never would send us any youths to mentor.”

Valis started, and looked surprised for a moment.  He considered to himself, falling back into pace, why didn’t they?  The Hand should have, perhaps, considered it. Paynifier’s skill at arms had kept the unlikely pair of black knights alive through years of war and all of Caenarfon’s pious and scholarly impulses.  The reality was that Paynifier and Caenarfon actually had a great deal between them to offer a young paladin in training.

The elder paladin scowled to himself, the politics of their dubious background had tainted what they could offer the Silver Hand, and they were all less for that shame.  Frustration wrinkling his brow, he found himself unable to come up with a good argument. After all, they had always struggled with finding a place to properly foster off the rare girls who joined; Paynifier should have been an obvious answer. Obviously no harm had come to her in Caenarfon’s care.

Paynifier grinned and chuckled at the startled and defensive reaction from Valis, and remarked warmly, “Don’t trouble yourself over it, Brother.  No one wants to send their child to the Blackguards of Deepwatch.”

“You two don’t exactly fit the typical mold of…” Valis struggled with finding something to say, neither Caenarfon nor Paynifier really were much like the rumors and stories of their homeland, but in the end he bitterly broke off, “A moot point now, I suppose.  No one will be sending any of their youths to us anymore.”

The statement echoed a cold truth on their dissolved order and its dim future in the slowly dying forest around them.

“You can’t disband the Holy Light.  You can’t disband the Silver Hand.” Remarked Paynifier firmly, and with queer piety for her, sounding more like she was echoing a lecture from Caenarfon, marching ahead.  She continued resolutely, “We just need to stay together, and fight this. We will bring a stop to this Scourge.”

Valis grunted, “May it be so,” and they walked along then in silence, listening to the snippets of plans drifting from the group ahead.  Caenarfon and his two new assistants seem to be devising future experiments and controls to uncover the secrets of the horrible force upon them.

“What are your plans, Brother?”  The warm voice beside Valis queried with careful curiosity.

“Lordaeron is lost.  My Lord Aldbrocht and I have been in communication.  We think it best that my men and I withdraw back south to his lands.

“Will you?”  She asked tentatively, alert dark eyes examining Valis beside her carefully.

“I want to stay to fight this, Sister, but I must consider my homelands, and any needs they may have in this turmoil that is sure to come.”

“If we cede the north, Brother, this plague will just follow you south.  Do you think three paladins can ward your Lord’s lands on your own? We have to unite and stop this Scourge here and now.”

“Some of the Silver Hand are regrouping in Hearthglen.  It is not exactly on the way back, but we could stop there, and see what goes on.”  Valis considered.

“I am curious of our brethren in Hearthglen as well, Brother.  News of what goes on there would be appreciated by Caenarfon and myself, should you go.”  Replied the dame, her dark eyes narrowed, and her expression gave way to some private considerations.  “At present, though, Sir Caenarfon and I plan to stay put, and continue his experiments and observations.  You and yours are a welcome presence here, Sir, and we would hate to see you go.”

It was a strange confession to Valis, how and why had these two black knights taken a shine to him?  Why should they care if he stayed or went? He’d always avoided them, kept out of their way, somewhat to his shame he realized now.  Though he’d never caused Caenarfon and Paynifier much hassle, he could not think of any favor he’d offered the forces from Deepwatch, their Baron, or to his two fellow paladins of the Silver Hand representing that domain.  In fact, he could only recall arguing with Caenarfon at various meetings when their paths did cross.

In light of the afternoon’s adventure, the strange ideas and requests from Caenarfon's corner made a little more sense. Still, it was a little off to hear the knights from Deepwatch suing for unity when their own House tended towards strife and secretive schemes in their far off lands. Perhaps, though, it was this background that made the pair more aware of the importance of cooperation with others.

They continued to march on, approaching the war camp in the southeast.  Tents of many colors sprawled before a small village which had been engulfed by the military presence.  Flagging banners of the Silver Hand punctuated the encampment; a stubborn symbol of defiance against the looming evil to the northwest.  Further to the southeast in the green hills beyond, rose the fortified city of Tyr’s Hand. A fitting place for a last, desperate, stand, if the old legends could be believed.  The air here was clearer, and none of the green plants seem to suffer any malady. Birds, and the sounds of livestock could be heard, life was almost normal here.

“I will think and pray on the matter, Sister.”  Valis finally answered Paynifier with what truth he could as the small group started to separate their ways to opposite ends of the encampment. Caenarfon and the younger knights trading goodbyes, and agreements to meet again later for some grand scheme.

Caenarfon looked entirely too pleased with himself as he and Paynifier made their way through the stinking mud of the war camp to where their own black and orange banners flew.  Chest and mustaches puffed out, his blue eyes sparkled with glee as he spoke, “I think we made some new friends for our holy quest today, Sister.”

“Provided we can keep Valis in town, aye.  His Lord is bidding him back south.” Paynifier noted a little grimly, hating to take the other knight down from his victory.

“Bother!”  Caenarfon huffed through his mustaches, “It is difficult to get the nobility with their individual concerns and investments to understand the important work we are doing here, Sister.”  He paused, and with all the foreboding of a lecturing tutor, observed, “That is how the forces of evil will finally destroy us, Sister. One by one, bit by bit, setting us apart from one another.  Separate us all out, and snuff each little candle with a pinch.”

“Well, at least no one back home wants us called back, aye?”  Paynifier quirked a game smile at Caenarfon, lighting her dark face.

“Light grant us little favors.”  Caenarfon responded with a chuckle and gleam to his eyes, “I doubt even the undead have use for Deepwatch.”  His ample mustache lifted with his smile.

Paynifier grinned at that.  Best described as a hole of a fishing village that had gotten too big for itself, Deepwatch was far off from here, on the hilly northwest coast of the continent. Overlooking a deep black bay, it was a chunk of rocky, forested land that was about impossible to till or grow crops on. Rumors of the whole land being cursed kept the superstitious at bay. Impractical and out of the way, Lordaeron had always been content to let the Vonthros Household and its fine line of despots and mad men lord over the fishing operations there.

Cocking a dark brow in Caenarfon’s direction, Paynifier queried with a wry smile, “So, what is your next grand plan, Sir?”