Black Knights and Paladins

 

Marcantos turned slowly around, his experienced eye tracing the line of ridges west, south, then east. “Form up!” he shouted to the troops huddled about several fires where they crowded drying their clothes and armor.

“And what am I to do?” Meera asked. She had been watching silently with arms folded while the general picked out the dozen Barbarians, Warriors, Mystics, and Conjurors he would gather around him to stop Shazarack from flying into the city. Morgana peeked out from beneath Meera’s damp hair scattered across her narrow shoulders.

“You, Meera, are going to lead the main force,” Marcantos answered.

“Me? I know nothing of war.”

“And everything about Shazarack. Besides, you are our only Necromancer. If there is anyone here who can anticipate what this orderman might do, it is you.”

Meera took a step back and shook her head. “I will not kill those I have spent most of my life calling friends. They have done nothing to deserve death.”

Marcantos squeezed his eyes shut. “Then focus your attention on protecting the troops and sending the undead back to where they came from. My team will put its attention on dealing with the Necromancers commanding them.”

Meera swept her eyes across the open terrain, no doubt searching for another way, another path to resolution.

Marcantos’s impatience was growing. “I need to know, Meera. Are you with us?”

Meera chewed on her lip for a moment, then nodded.

“Good.”

Gertrum prodded Marcantos, then motioned toward the city where Saven escorted a small band of Paladins and Black Knights their way.

As the band drew near, the Black Knight in the lead swept her eye over the gathering of Anarchic and Harmonic troops, then at the fluttering black-and-blood-red flag Staeffan held proudly over the ranks. “I am Commander Roshesh.” She tipped her head toward the Paladin next to her. “This is Commander Prei Cartwrighter. You are here with the young Dragonbonded?”

“We are,” Marcantos answered. “You talked to him?”

“I did,” Roshesh answered. “He mentioned there is an army that seeks to occupy our holy city. Saven here says the attack is imminent.” She swept her arm toward the mountain ridges. “So where is this invading army?”

Meera stepped forward. “There is a very powerful Necromancer on his way here now in command of an army of a thousand undead, maybe more ... and a dragon. We believe he has gained access to tunnels created by the Modei that run beneath the mountains. If that is true, we expect him to arrive at any time.”

Roshesh signaled a young Black Knight behind her, who sprinted back toward the small crop of tents. “There is little wealth remaining in Shan-Grail. Everything of value was moved to Aldemeer. Do you know what this Necromancer seeks?”

“Power,” Meera answered. “He believes he can access extraordinary elemental forces from within the city. He plans to use that power to create another army, a very powerful one, and then to use them and his necro-army to invade and destroy the realms.”

Meera caught Cartwrighter’s troubled expression. “So, there is truth to this? The city does possess powers?”

Cartwrighter pressed his lips tight, then asked, “How did he come by such knowledge of the city and the underground tunnels?”

“His grandfather was a Bremenn priest,” Meera answered.

“But the Bremenn priesthood ended a millennium ago when the Paladins Order was created.”

Meera glanced at Marcantos, and likely sensed his growing agitation. “It is a long story that does not help us prepare for what is coming our way.” She looked at Commander Roshesh with a sense of urgency. “We could use your help.”

Roshesh shook her head. “Our duty is to protect Shan-Grail, not to assist you in your fight.”

Marcantos could tell this discussion was shaping up to be one to decide who was in charge of the situation. And he was not about to relinquish his army to this or any other commander. “Somehow I doubt your instructions foresaw having to defend the city against an invading army.”

The Mystic Hendrake stepped forward. “Wasn’t the city built to defend against an invasion?”

“No. It was a site for Modeic pilgrims. Peace was the way of the Modei. The walls you see were purely symbolic.”

“The city would offer us at least some protection,” Hendrake suggested.

Roshesh shook her head again. “I am sorry. The edict we follow came from Tatem Creeg himself. None of us may enter.”

“We are here to protect your precious city,” Gertrum railed.

Roshesh took a rigid stance before Marcantos. “As I see it, you are here to stop someone from invading your homelands. No one may enter the city without the permission of the Paladins and Black Knights Councils.”

Gertrum started to argue with the woman, but Marcantos placed a hand on his shoulder. It would be a waste of energy trying to convince a Black Knight or Paladin to let them use the city as a defensive position. The orders’ focus was spiritual; everything else was irrelevant. The general took in the solemn faces of his troops gathered behind him. “We need a strategy to stop Shazarack from out here.”