"We are going to bring him with us?" Annika asked. The Barbarian, Ragnar Crowson, from what she had seen in his memories, was no angel but nor was he a wanton butcher. Annika took no pleasure in the idea of cutting his throat while he was unconscious, especially know that she had inhabited his mind.

"There is no honor in killing an unarmed opponent and if we leave him he might wake up thirty seconds from now and set the whole pack of them on us," Orion pointed out. There was no edge to his tone but Annika couldn't help but feel slightly shamed by her own thoughts and her dusky skin took on a slight blush.

"Of course," she agreed hastily, tucking the stolen laser pistol into her waist belt and following along behind.

"Let's just be sure we are far away from here when he does."

It was nearly an hour later by the time the Vuldrock began to stir. By that point the sun was beginning to paint the eastern horizon and it was becoming more difficult to evade the roving bands of Vuldrock, they seemed to be concentrated between their landing sight and the city, curse their luck.

"We should find somewhere to hide out," Annika advised as she moped the sweat from her face. The going had been rough as they had been forced to avoid roads and trails and she was unused to such sustained physical exertion.

"I need to pray also," she added with deliberate understatement. The physic exertions she had undertaken differed from thuegry. While it was safe enough for her to use them, overextending herself as she had tonight engendered certain risks. She could already feel her dark twin moving in the back of her mind, stirring unhealthy desires and lusts that she worked to keep under control. The Vuldrock slung over Orion's shoulder began to moan as she spoke. It was obvious the knight, in peak physical condition as Annika's distracted mind gleefully reported to her, wanted to continue but he could see that she needed rest and they needed to determine what to do with the captive. Fortunately the Pancreator smiled upon them and there were several craggy defiles penetrating a nearby granite hilltop. Orion selected one and they followed it into the hill until it became a true cave. A rivulet of cool fresh water flowed along the center of the narrow space that opened up to a small pool where it welled up from an underground spring. It was pitch black but Orion, perhaps guided by his augmetic eye led her without faltering. Once they reached the spring they gathered up anceint brushwood and piled it in the opening to block out any chance of light escaping and started a small fire with the aid of the laser pistol.

As Orion propped the Vuldrock against one of the stony walls the barbarians eyes snapped open as the cold stone touched his back. Orion had his sword to the man's neck in an instant and the big raider froze in place, hands extended. Annika pointed the laser pistol at him more or less haphazardly though she doubted she could finish the job if Orion failed.

"Slig Hassen der vender bakan Thane," the Vuldrok said quietly.

"He says he is at your mercy lord," Annika translated. Orion glanced at her, surprised that she seemed to speak the languge, in truth she had lifted the knowledge from his mind when she had melded with him earlier. Without practice it would fade but for now she could manage it. She knelt in the sand and sketched out the symbol of the universal church with her fingers then began to pray.

"Dreken hexen will curse us both," the Vuldrok said, his words resolving into the common tongue as her rite imbued all present with the ability to understand each other, just as the Pancreator understood and judged all souls, regardless of their faith.

It was an off-putting but not innocuous feeling to suddenly be able to understand the Vuldrok. Orion wasn't a hard man, at least when it came to his allies. But he was wondering just how many powers Annika would pluck out of the sky. He turned to the woman, ignoring the barbarian for now. "He is at my mercy?" He echoed, and turned back to the Vuldrok. "That goes without saying."

"Fell Huscarl," The Vuldrok said, clearing this throat and shifting in his bonds gently. The effort brought forth his breathy odor and it grated on Orion's nerves. "Let me serve you. You have spared my life, and therefore I am under your dominion until you see fit to release me. My Gods demand that I-"

"No," Orion said, grim of face. "I haven't decided not to kill you yet, and you think I'll take you as a bloody squire?" Even without her gifts, Annika would be able to see his anger and disgust mounting. "A heathen as you, with foreign Gods and the blood of innocents on your hands? Who comes to my homeworld and threatens it with slavery and death?" The Knight grabbed the Vuldrok suddenly by the hair on his scalp and looked as if he was about to cut his throat then and there.

"No! Orion, hold!" Sister Annika cried, and she placed a hand on his arm to soothe him. He felt her presence entering his mind, for it caught his attention in a more calm manner. Still, she spoke aloud. "He can get us past his kin," she reminded him. "And if he serves you he may be able to repent for his sins. All who seek the Pancreator's light may gain salvation. You should know that with more clarity than most Knights, I can gather."

For a long, tense second, his arm quivered as he was at an impasse, until he reluctantly pulled his sword away. "Very well," The Knight remarked. "You may join us. But do not over announce yourself when we meet others of my world. They will not take kindly to you, and less of me for keeping you. You will do as I say when I say it, and if you pull your weight, you'll be rewarded with what bounty the Pancreator awards me. But if you displease me, I'll release your soul from your body."

The Vuldrok seemed elated, unintimidated by the Knight. Perhaps it was because most Barbarians had very little self-preservation, or perhaps he was very confident in his skills. Either way, when his bonds were cut he merely rubbed his wrists. "Thank you, master. I will serve you well. But we must hurry, before night falls. Tomorrow morning there will be an attack, and this night we-...er they gather to ready themselves. The forest will be thick of them."

"Lead the way then, just know if you lead us to any patrols, you will die first."

Two hours passed as the three slunk around the tufts of ancient grass and gnarled trees that dotted the end of the woods. Thrice they hid from patrols, keeping themselves low and quiet. Each time Orion looked at Sister Annika to see if she was well and hidden, only to see she was looking at him and they would both turn away. True to his word, Ragnar kept his oath and kept the group out of danger until the sun had nearly been swallowed by the horizon, and they waded out of the treeline onto pastureland, where a family of serfs were herding a drove of cattle peacefully.

"Father! Father there are people!" One of the small boys cried. It looked as if there were four young children out there to help shepard the animals or till the fields. Another boy's grip slackened on the hoe he carried, and grown man looked perplexed. Orion Pentecost could not blame him.
@Penny

The father, a muscular looking man with a salt and pepper beard hurried toward them. Annika struggled to keep her mind focused, following the paths of Estakonic mediation to keep her away from her dark twins influence. The farmer looked nervous, as well he might, to see two obviously armed strangers coming out of the woodlands. They might not know there were Vuldrock raiders about, but no one could have missed the noises of weapons-fire during the night. The farmers eyes darted between Orion and Ragnar, paying little attention to the slender woman who made no obvious threat.

"Jacquen, take your brother and go inside," the farmer instructed. A girl who had, until that moment been concealed behind a low wall of mossy stones stood up looking indignant.

"But papa.." she began to object.

"Now girl," he snapped, and something in his voice precluded further argument. THe girl grabbed the boys and headed towards a low stone hut roofed with sod.

"What brings you to these parts sir," he asked Orion respectfully. He was clearly afraid, but he wasnt willing to give up an inch on his own farm.

"Grim tidings, I'm afraid." Orion stated. He kept his face neutral, or did his best to. But the farmer could see a regret and unease on his stern visage. Ragnar was about to speak but Annika mentally told him to keep a lid on it. Hearing his strange tongue in these strange times could cause panic and grant Orion a lack of trust. The Knight looked over the fields, to the distant farmsteads across the horizon of the fading sun.

"Have you not heard any of the fighting?" Pentecost asked.

"Yes sir, but the Duke promised us protection. We've done everything he's asked, he-"

"Won't get here in time." Orion finished. He looked at the man, and realized they looked somewhat similar. Perhaps a decade apart in age, but with a similar build and chin. Maybe if he had not chosen to become a Knight, or if he was born in a lesser bloodline this would be him. He was suddenly glad that wasn't the case, for this man had a bumpy few weeks ahead of him. "In less than 12 hours, these raiders will roll in on Tolth and this is the first place they hit. I need you to gather your family and follow me. If you can send someone to go and warn your neighbors, that would be appreciated."

The farmer took a step back, clearly wrestling pragmatism with surprise. Orion had seen it before. Peaceful men who couldn't believe they were experiencing tragedies or battles one would hear from news or rumors. For a moment, the Knight felt as if the man was about to speak against him, gathering his wits to argue. They didn't have time for such nonesense, and he drew his sword, pointing it at the frightened serf.

"Do as I say!" He roared, eyes flaring. Even his cybernetic eye seemed to gleam. The threat of violence all of the sudden seemed very tangible to the serf, even if it wasn't necessarily from the Vuldroks. "I am Sir Orion Pentecost, scion of the House of Hawkwood. Knight of the Known Worlds and Warrior of the Company of the Pheonix! Go now save your family and people with me or I will smite you where you stand!"

Needless to say, in short order the retinue of Orion grew tenfold within the hour. Worried men and frightened women and children congregated among them at the crossroads that fed from the greater city of Tolth into the farmlands. Orion organized the families into units, keeping the most influential families at the fore in case they needed to speak to any noble at the drop of a hat. When darkness fell and the lights within the trees grew fierce, they marched into the greater city of Tolth, what had to be hundreds of peasants behind bold Orion and his Confessor, with Ragnar muttering to himself all the while.
@Penny

Annika followed in Orion's wake as the approached the city. The ranks swelled as neighbors ran ahead to warn their kin and friends until the column of civilians stretched out and was lost to sight in the trees behind them. The forrest grew thinner and more cultivated as they walked
and the rough trail grew into a true road. At length the gleaming walls of Tolth came into view and many of the peasants, having never traveled so far gasped at the size and beauty of the place. The walls of Tolth were of a white material that resembled marble. It wasn't truely a stone, but rather a ceramic that had been cast by the Engineers of the Second Republic. Despite years of war and weather they remained as pristine and unmarked as they day they had been cast. Annika wondered what it must be like for the peasants following them, to know that the slim margin of their existence was, probably even now, being ransacked and destroyed by Vuldrock raiders. What wasnt consumed would be carried off or torched, and they would return to land stripped bare of generations of work. She glanced sidelong at Ragnar who seemed perfectly at ease with the situation. Perhaps such things were natural and proper within his world view.

"Hold!" shouted a guard as they came insight of the walls, his voice tinny and distorted through a loud hailer. Orion halted and the colum slowed to a stop also. Minutes rolled by in silence save for the muttering of peasants and the clink of metal on the walls. Annika could well imagine the captain of the watch being roused, and then consulting his superiors in turn. At last one of the vast gates began to grind open and a file of soldiers tramped out, each wearing the livery of Rochfort and carrying automatic rifles at high port. In the middle of the group was a nobleman of indifferent merit who looked as though he had just been roused from his bed.

"What is the meaning of this," he called more or less in Orion's direction.

The clamor of the peasantry quieted down to a low murmur as their lord made his appearance. The man was clearly not the Duke, but Orion knew there were various smaller counts, barons, and baronets under his dominion. What matter was that he was obviously of a more noble standing than Orion, and so the Knight knelt before the aristocrat. "My lord, forgive the uproar." He said, head bowed. He indicated the others should do as well.

"I am Orion Pentecost, a vassal of Baron Clement Hawkwood. I've been sent here to quell the rebellion on your eastern woodlands. My Confessor and I had our transport destroyed enroute and we landed on your western border in the pines. There are a great many Vuldrok's there and they will attack at dawn, if they are not already ransacking these weary peasant's homes."

"How do you know of this?" The noble barked, trying to keep a semblance of authority even in his nightshirt and robe. His guards did well to keep that air of power with their automatic weapons trained on the crowd.

"I have... captured a Vuldrok." He said, and indicated to Ragnar, who looked up curiously before Annika pushed his head down again. "He owes his life to me for sparing him, and my Confessor has searched his mind and deemed the attack plans of the enemy."

"Well this is all well and good, Sir Pentecost, if this truly be who you are. But why have you uprooted my serfs from their homes?" He asked, bewildered. The torches of the peasants illuminated every frightened and angered face among them. A silence followed as Orion searched for what to respond with.

"My lord...these people were to be killed by the foul pagans. I wished to bring them to safety..."

"I am Baron Frederick Hawkwood, and my serfs are to be uprooted from their lands only by me. We protect our own and keep them protected."

"Your stand in your nightshirt, Baron, as they were about to be slaughtered. Was there a convoy of soldiers on the way we did not see?"

The silence was deafening, and Orion cursed himself and his stupid tongue. He could feel the eyes of the Baron boring down upon him, and after a moment he responded. But he did not respond to Orion. "Captain! Take these three...The Knight and his retainers and bring them to the Holy Bethel. Keep them under guard until the Duke sees fit to release them."

"And you!" He called to the serfs. "You are under no penalty, as you have followed this one's call. You may stay as well within the Chapel, but you will buy your own food and find your own water until this threat is quelled. Now move or be thrown to the wolves!"

Orion and Annika found themselves entering the inner walls among six guards, with Ragnar now bound within force-clasps behind his back. A shout erupted from behind them, ordering the serfs in line. That was the last Orion heard from them once he entered the Chapel. The guards shoved Ragnar unceremonious, and were scant more gentle with Orion and Sister Annika. He had to keep his anger in check seeing his companion mistreated, but even the Sister was not above noble authority, at least for the moment.

The chapel was a solemn place of purple gloom among firelight. Rows upon rows of pews covered a vast distance and chalices hung from the shadow of the ceiling, sparkling as small starlight pinpoints in the dark. Hooded figures sang dirges of the lost and hymns of the Pancreator as they walked the rows.
@Penny

Annika felt immediate relief as they stepped into the consecrated space of the chapel. The familiar iconography soothed her troubled mind and she went immediately to the altar and knelt, ignoring the startled looks of the attending acolytes. Closing her eyes she began to pray working herself through the litanies of purification she had been taught by her Estakonic tutors. The calming effect of the pray settled over her slowly, quelling the influence of her Dark Twin. Ever since her psychic gifts had emerged she had struggled to keep them under control and even with years of training, they still sometimes threatened to overwhelm her. She couldn't have said how much time had passed when she finally stood, but the ache in her knees suggested it had been no short period.

Feeling renewed she walked back down the knave to where Orion stood in conversation with the bound Ragnar. The Vuldrock appeared calm despite his bonds, evidently his faith in Orion's promise to protect him was stronger than Annika's own. His ice blue eyes narrowed as she approached, warning Orion of her quiet progress.

"Sister?" the knight asked as he turned his handsome face to her.

"I thought that, as we are in a church, it might be a good time to hear your confession," she told Orion. She glanced toward the door where a pair of armed guards slouched in the shadows, rifles slung across their chests.

"Afterall, it is best to face the future with a clear conscience."

An acolyte's grim laughter resounded from some distant hall beyond their vision in the darkness. It was an odd correspondence to the liturgies being prayed closer by, and by his reckoning the hall of worship seemed nearly as damned as the void of space. And yet it wasn't, Orion remembered. Perhaps the sister was correct, that he should confess in the face of God. He had done so before once or twice since some of his "worse" actions, but it would do to speak plainly to his confessor.

"I agree," He told her, rising to his full height and following her into the gloom toward a corner of the chamber. He felt eyes on his back but kept his reserve and pace, and as if a veil had been cast over them, he and the Sister were suddenly alone beside a dias with the symbols of both the Pancreator and the House of Hawkwood adorned upon it.

For a moment, he hesitated and stood still. He realized he briefly worried about being embarrassed, and when that dawned on him he kicked the thought away. She was his Confessor, and he needed to keep that in mind. He knelt before the dias and the Priestess whom had sat upon the step, the Knight guarded with his head bowed.

"Your sins cannot harm the Pancreator nor me. Express and all may be well, sir Knight." She said, almost playfully.

He didn't know how to begin, which was likely not a good sign. "I have...sinned against my liege. I killed his vassal in a duel, over the insult of the promiscuity of my dead aunt, who was the Baron's estranged sister." He wanted to specify, so there would be as little questions as possible.

"I have also served him poorly, from his assertion. Most recent and perhaps most heinous is my willingness to ally with pagans in the defense of a fortified city outside of the Clement Barony to stave off an invasion of Aliens. My oath to slay them once the conflict was done was also unfulfilled, as I was recalled by my Baron and I still have dishonor for such an action." He swallowed, wondering how far he should go. "I have the sin of ambition. I strive to become apart of the Company of the Pheonix, and as my past failures have led to disfavor, I'll add bullheadedness to my sins as well. I also am slow to learn. Just the other day, I allied myself with a Pagan again. One named Ragnar whom has yet to prove his worth. I ask forgiveness from the Pancreator, and wisdom to know what to do with my sword and my will to better serve him and the Empire."
@Penny

Annika sat in her meditative pose considering Orion's words. Even having just prayed it was difficult to resist the urge to peer into his mind with her gifts, to see the images and feel his thoughts about the things he described but that would be sinful, terribly sinful given that she was hearing his confession. It was interesting to know the reason his leige bore him such ill will, though she doubted it was within her power to remedy. As for the rest of it...

"The Pancreator, in His Wisdom, created the pagan as well as the righteous," she explained.

"While it is our duty to bring all men to the proper worship of the Pancreator, it is not for us to undo his design, though it may vex us," she went on, thinking of the instruction she had received from pagans at the cloister where she had been sent after her abilities first manifested.

"We do not know his purpose, and should Ragnar play you false there will be a time and a place for..."

"I might have expected to find you spreading such Heresy!" a voice snarled. Annika was snapped out of her focus and looked up to see a man clothed the the blood red robes of the Temple Avestii. He had a severe face half hidden by his cowl and he carried a flame gun, though he wasn't pointing it at either of them as yet. She recognized Brother Mobian from the Farsi though she had never thought to see him again.

"How dare you interrupt the confession of a member of the Faithful!" Annika blazed her anger overcoming proper ecclesiastical discipline. A sacrament such as this was private and Mobian's intrusion was well beyond what Church authorities were likely to accept. Formal complaints between Estakonics and Avestii were common, but even here where the Orthodox held sway, interupting a sacred rite was not likely to be looked upon kind.

"Faithful might be a stretch if he consorts with witches..." Mobian paused to nod his head towards the bound Ragnar, "and Pagans."

"I shall have charges drawn up before the curia..." Annika continued her eyes narrowing with rage but the Avestii merely made a dismissive guesutre.

"Unfortunately 'sister' I am here as an arm of the civil government during a time of crisis and as such am not subject to censure for minor infractions of Cannon law," he smirked. Annika felt her teeth grind, Mobian was correct in that, or at least correct enough in an Orthodox See that it didn't matter.

"His eminence has sent me to collect this ... knight," he said contemptuously.

"As he made no mention of you, you will remain..." Mobian went on but it was Annika's turn to cut him off.

"As he made no mention of me, and you are, as you say acting in the capacity of the civil government, I am free to come and go where I choose, and I choose to remain with Sir Pentecost." Mobian's jaw clicked shut, his eyes filling with rage at being caught by his own logic, for a moment it seemed he might argue but then he merely pointed at Orion.

"You are commanded to appear before the Duke, why do you delay?!"

"I do not delay," was all Orion said in reply, regaining his feet. He was glad Annika was accompanying him, and he wanted to smile at her outsmarting the man. But he kept his face neutral and his body rigid. He was a Questing Knight and wouldn't disrespect one of the clergy or the gentry. He awaited Morbius to lead the way, and he did after a moment of showing Orion his clear disdain.

"Thank you," Orion mouthed to Annika, and when Ragnar walked forward, the Knight placed his sword in front of the man, the flat of the blade pressing to his chest. "It's best if you stay in the very back," Orion said louder. Ragnar looked confused, but he stepped back as he was told. The Knight marched to catch up to the priest, who did not deign to look back to see if he was being followed.

The lamentations of the Temple were left behind as they entered a transport. It was shaped like an upside-down bowl, and it hovered in place. Orion might be off low noble birth, but he had never seen anything so advanced. Not in person at least, so he wasn't certain what to call it. He simply helped Annika inside first, and joined her with Ragnar following in tow.

Morbuis gave a contemptuous look back at them, and Orion knew then and there the Priest would order their execution if he had the power. He curled his lip. "Filth," he sneered.

The transport brought them through the city. In the daytime, the buildings were made of steel, with a harsh look that oppressed the eyes. They would give off an air of industrialization and fascist regime, much like the other directly ruled cities in the known worlds. At night however, lights filled the skyscrapers and utilitarian buildings like stars. It was both beautiful and structured.

Soon they approached the giant gates of the Palace of Duke William Rochtford, speeding through without delay as they opened and closed just in time of their arrival. It was difficult to make out the shapes of the great buildings and towers under the darkness of night, even with the lights beaming from above.

They were inducted in swiftly, brother Morbius evidently had sway in the palace as he ordered the guardsmen at the front to follow them and escort their three "guests" closely. The halls were concave and domed, the metallic material purple to showcase royalty. They passed a gnarled medic with a crooked spine, wearing resplendent robes who smiled at them as if they were morsels or experiments to work upon. Orion needed to tell himself that despite the treatment given by certain members of the Duke's administration, he was of noble blood and his armsmen moved professionally.

The throne room was a testament to Imperial magnificence, though William Rochtford was an odd outlier despite his power. He was clearly of Hawkwood stock, broad of shoulder and blonde of hair, but his face showed his Li Han heritage. Orion wondered if the allegations of insanity were true. It seemed they were about to find out.

"Ah!" The Duke said, turning. There was something off about his smile, and there was certainly a crazed look in his eyes. "My cousin's gift to my province! Or perhaps a carefully concealed trap to hinder my economy." The accusation was clear, right through the forced grin. He wore a stately suit that accentuated his nominal figure, and his hair was meticulously groomed befitting a noble. "I was told you had been brought here to curb the pagan rebellion that had cropped up on the outskirts of my province, and here you arrive on the opposite side of my city and incite another rebellion!"

"Who dared to report such lies!?" Annika blurted out, and Orion gripped his sword in shock, unable to verbally gasp.

"I did," Morbius said, stepping forward. He paid little heed to the Sister's glare, even though Sir Pentecost was certain anyone who gave that look alone could kill. Instead, Morbius knelt before the Duke, inclining his head. "Your grace, do you not see what I have brought you? This Knight is in league with a sorceress and a pagan. Perhaps it would be best to send their heads back to your cousin as a warning."

"Your grace, I did not realize mere priests were so bold as to direct you in matters of state." Orion commented without amusement, unable to curb his tongue this time.
@Penny

Annika watched the Duke closely. He was a strange sort of man, with the broad burly frame and cragy features of a Hawkwood but with the aquiline nose and broading features of a Li Halan. That ancient and strange house was not well liked in the palaces of the Sultan, their holier than thou judgmentalism and austere self denial did little to endear them to the al Maliks they encountered. Since she had left Isktar Annika had seen little to confirm those biases, but those Li Halan she encountered did tend to be outsiders to their own family.

“Priests…” Duke William muttered, casting a baleful look at Mobian, “Priests!” The repeated word began in the same tone as the first but ended in a shriek. Annika risked a glance at Mobian who stared forward stoically a slight grimace in his stern expression.

“Priests! What do they know… I know more of the Pancreator than…” the Duke trailed off his eyes falling on Annika.

“Who are you?” he asked, his fury draining away as quickly as it had arisen. Mobian stepped forward.

“She is a sorcer... “

“SILENCE!” the Duke roared, rounding on the Avestite in an eyeblink.

“I am not speaking to you,” he snapped before spinning back to Annika. The mood in the chamber was growing tense, with the various advisors and hangers-on casting surreptious glances at one and other.

“You were saying my dear?” the Duke continued.

“I am Annika Comennos al Malik your grace,” she responded with a graceful curtsey. Her ecclesiastical rank was clearly displayed on her clothing and the Celestial Sun amulet she wore but if he noticed William Rochfort did not comment. Instead he took her hand and kissed it in courtly fashion. Annika kept an iron grip on her gifts, she could feel the Dukes moods surging and fading like waves lashing a rock. Mobian might be a fool but the Avestii had theugry of their own, and if he caught her using psychic powers on a man of Rochfort’s station she would go to the stake for certain.

“Charmed my dear,” he told her, “tell me are you endowed with the gifts of Euterpe?”

“As best as one not beyond the gates of Silinas your grace,” she responded. William smiled at her and then the expression seemed to freeze on his face. The corners of his mouth pulled the smile into a ricktus and his eyes grew wild.

“I must pray!” he declared and spun on his heel, heading towards the rear of the chamber in little short of a run. Mobian cast a baleful glance at Annika and Orion.

“Your grace,” he called after William, “What is to be done with this false knight and his…” Mobian evidently realised the Duke was too far away to address the question and then hurried after him as quickly as he could with the indignity of breaking into a run. Both men disappeared through a large door at the rear of the chamber which slammed behind them.

“I shall take charge of Sir Pentecost,” announced one of the advisors who had been trying to keep out of sight at the edge of the chamber. The speaker was a lean man in matte black from head to toe, something that put him at odds with the other occupants of the chamber, most of whom were dressed in silks or furs. He was dark haired and handsome and his eyes slapped down the other councilors.

“If you will come with me Sir and Sister,” he told them, leading them from the main chamber and through a hallway to a large library, with shelves of books and bundled scrolls that stretched from the plush carpeted floor to the high ceilings. He moved to a sideboard and took out a quaraf of what looked to be brandy and three glasses.

“I apologize for your reception in there, I am afraid Brother Mobian had the Duke’s ear this morning and spent most of it calling you all kinds of things,” he said, apologetically.

“Oh where are my manners, I am Dieter Engel, the Dukes Chamberlain.”

The scene had shifted dramatically to Orion. From the insane Duke's ramblings and Morbius' accusations to this quaint man offering them a drink in their well stocked library. He noticed the Sister scanning the isles of books, though it would be impossible to read the titles from where they stood. The Chamberlain approached them with their glasses and handed one to Annika and even one to Ragnar. When he made it to Orion, the Knight just looked at the man.

"Before we continued, I would like to know what the duke plans to do about the raiders to the west." He said sternly, still not having reached for the glass.

Chamberlain Engel cleared his throat. "Forgive me for saying, but that is not entirely your business sir Pentecost-"

"The Empire and it's citizens are my business." He challenged.

"-But I will tell you, regardless." He finished, and presented the drink. Orion took it after a moment's hesitation, taking a hearty sip as the Chamberlain relayed the information that the peasants would be kept within the walls of the chapel during the attack, with military forces responding swiftly. That satisfied Orion and the Sister Annika, though Ragnar's face was unreadable. Deiter changed the subject.

"Now, as to why you are here," He declared, reaching to his belt to produce a rolled up piece of parchment. With a professional air, he unrolled the glorified scroll and laid it upon one of the leisure desks, where the Duke and his courtiers likely read and drank their expensive liquors in peace. Upon the parchment was a map of the area, with varying notes on noted enemy strength and possible paths leading to their base camp.

"Do you not have the information on a screen?" The Sister asked incredulously.

"We do, but nothing portable. This is what you will take. Keep it safe."

"We have only been told they are pagans defying the Duke's rule. Are they Vuldrok raiders, or other barbarians?" Orion asked, eyebrow raised. On his second sip, the glass he held was empty, the contents now sliding down within his massive chest. The darkly clad Chamberlain shook his head. "No, I'm afraid they are former citizens, however we believe the Vuldrok or some Alien menace has corrupted them, and admittedly, have been encouraged by the Duke's brutal acts."

"What Gods do they follow?" Ragnar asked with interest. All eyes turned to him, but the Chamberlain didn't hesitate to answer his questions.

"Yours." He said. "The Anunnaki, and various others. It seems the only God they hate is the Pancreator. Naturally, you realize why they must be purged."
@Penny

Engel. Engel had been the name the Vuldrock chieftain had used when he told his thanes about his plan to raid the Hawkwood domains. Annika cast a side long glance at Ragnar but the barbarian did not appear to have made the same connection. Of course anyone could use the name, it would be an elegant set up to lure the Vuldrock here and then produce evidence that 'Engel' had provided the information. Certainly in al-Malik courts such subtly would be appreciated and celebrated, but was it too sophisticated for Hawkwoods? There was one way to find out. As Orion pressed Engel regarding what the Duke planned to do about the the impending attack she closed her eyes and opened her mind and sensed... nothing. Orion's mind was clear and bright, as was Ragnar's in its own way but from Engel it was as though she were touching a panel of stone rather than clear glass. She withdrew her psychic inquiry immediately. Engel didn't appear to have noticed the intrusion, which meant he was not, himself, psychic but how else could he be keeping her out. There were certain thuergies that could be used, Annika knew several herself, but at best that should have made his thoughts garbled nonsense, not a blank nothingness.

"You said we should take the map with us?" Annika asked suddenly, breaking into the conversation unexpectedly. Both Orion and Engel paused to glance at her.

"Take it where exactly?" she clarified. Engel ran a hand through his hair and smiled apologetically.

"I'm afraid the Duke has ordered me to do nothing without his express consent," the chamberlain explained. He laid a slight emphasis on 'me' but to an ear used to deciphering every nuance in the Graceful Tongue it was as obvious as a slap in the face.

"You mean he hasn't even gathered warriors?" Ragnar asked incredulously. Orion shot the pagan a warning look that quelled him only somewhat.

"I fear I have said to much already," Engel said, finishing his own drinks.

"If you make yourself comfortable, I am sure the Duke will send for you within the hour, I take my leave," the Chamberlain concluded already heading for the door with a backward gait, pausing to bow before slipping through the door and locking it. Annika narrowed her eyes.

"Something is very wrong here," she commented, glancing at the map as Orion swept it up off the table.

"Truly," he replied dryly, "such wisdom can only come from God."

"This is impossible." Sister Annika said, crossing her arms before spreading them out for emphasis.

The library was quiet and peaceful, but it did little to dull the very real predicament they found themselves in. Ragnar nodded, eyes downcast as he was thinking. Unbeknownst to him, Annika could not help but cast a glimpse at his mind, and she flicked his ear. "Ow!" he cried, looking at her with wonder. She looked at him and mouthed. "Don't even think about it," and it only caused his eyes to widen even further with amazement at her 'magic.'

Orion had turned when she had flicked him, but he was lost on Ragnar fancying slipping away in the forest once they reached the treeline. Granted, Annika doubted he would actually do that, as the mind tended to wander. People often had fantasies they would never do, but they would ponder on for a time.

It was as if the exchange never happened when Orion spoke. "Yes, it is impossible." He said sternly. "I don't blame you if you wish to sue for different duties and remain here. This was why I was hesitant to wish for a confessor, particularly one like you. Dying with me isn't something I'd wish on you, Sister."

"Sir Pentecost, I don't think-" Annika began.

"And me?" Ragnar asked, pointing at himself. He wasn't unintelligent, but he looked very stupid at the moment.

"Does it matter?" He asked. "In an hour I'll be sent into the forest and I'll fight an army. Maybe if we, if I find the leader I can end it without having to take on a battalion sized group of pagans-"

Annika let out a sharp, loud sigh and walked up to Orion. She grabbed his shoulders and tried to shake him. "You fool of a Knight!" She snapped, and grabbed his cheeks to bring him eye level with her. "You handsome, thick headed fool! Engel!"

Truth be told, Orion was certainly not a fool. But long years serving without question and a mind bred for battle had a difficult time seeing a flaw in the system he served, doubly so because of the type of Baron he worked under. If he didn't focus on the task at hand, he'd likely rebel. But at Sister Annika's words, he remembered Engel from the forest.

When recognition was on his face, she smiled broadly.

"What do we do?" He asked her. His first instinct was to break through the door and slay the man, dying gloriously. But that was as much of a thought as Ragnar's fleeing. He knew it wasn't practical and the thought was gone almost as quickly as it showed up. They needed some kind of plan.
@Penny

Annika sat down on the carpeted floor and crossed her legs her pose one of meditation. Ragnar gave her and odd look but she ignored the pagan for the moment. Something was wrong with Engel but something was very wrong in this whole city. The Duke seemed mad and unless the did something very soon there was a very real chance a major Hawkwood city would fall to the Vuldrock, a disaster as humiliating as it was likely to be bloody.

"Engel clearly expects us to do something," she mused, trying to center her mind on the facts she knew. By giving them the map it seemed he wanted them to do something military in nature. Engel might or might not be guilty of what she had seen in Ragnar's mind but the fact she couldn't read him seemed to sophisticated a ruse to have been set up to frame the man.

"The Duke hasn't deployed his soliders," she said at last, "we can start there, at least have armsmen in place when the Vuldrock come."

"The thane said the soldiers couldn't be moved without the Lords permission," Ragnar rumbled.

"All the more reason," Annika retorted.

"Whatever happens after that will give us more information, but at least the city wont be defenseless."

How Annika came by this information was beyond the Knight's understanding, but he knew she was telling the truth.

"Bastards," Orion spat, blood boiling. He served the aristocracy, but it always enraged him on how many of them treated their lessers. After a few moments of deliberation, he said neutrally. "Confessor, I've insulted the Duke," Before continuing on planning how to best disobey his directives.

"We can do little at the moment unless we get the door open," He began, wondering if he should break it down. That was, until footsteps were heard from the outside. Like a predator, Orion's entire body was suddenly focused, his eyes changing to deadly intensity. He held out two fingers and waved them to the left as his eyes were on the door, and Annika didn't need to read his mind to know that he was directing them to move out of sight.

He went right, moving nimbly for his size as he vaulted one of the larger chairs and disappeared behind a curve in the wall. It was at that moment the sliding door was unlocked, and it slid open for two of the Dukes Praetorian Guard to enter, confusion marring their faces when they couldn't see where their "guests" were. Orion moved like a hunting cat, easily leaving cover and leaping to land behind them.

The first has his helmet taken off and was knocked unconscious by a well aimed blow to the back of the skull. The next one tried to get his polearm in line, but the pity about long hafted weapons was that they were slow to bear, and Orion's arms suddenly surrounded his neck, the knight's bicep pressing into his throat as he slowly squeezed the man. After a few moments of struggle, he was out cold as well.

"Why not just kill them?" Ragnar asked as Orion eased the man down.

"They're soldiers of the Empire." He answered sternly. "Sister, do you know of where we can go?"
@Penny

"We should go and deploy the garrisons," she advised, stepping over the praetorian. She paused to reach down and pluck a pistol from the guards belt then thoughtfully replaced it with the one she had taken from the dead Vuldrock earlier. That would certainly confuse the man when he woke up but she doubted it would be his major concern. The Duke would be furious that his orders had been countermanded, but at least the city might survive. Orion could, after the fact, claim he was just following his instructions to defeat the pagans, though it was a think excuse at best.

The hall outside the library was empty for the moment but Annika wasn't sure which way to go to get out of the labyrinthine complex.

"This way," Ragnar declared decisively, gesturing down the hallway. Lacking better options Orion and Annika followed till they came to a small door. Although it probably wasn't locked Ragnar opened it with a kick that splintered its hinges and lead them through into a dark spiraling staircase. They raced down the stairs and as they descended the smell of roasting meat and industrial refigeration came up to greet them.

The reached the bottom and passed through a set of doors into a large kitchen in which cooks and their assistants were slaving over a hundred different meals. There was enough shouting and noise that at first they didn't notice the presence of strangers. Ragnar marched determinedly towards what looked to be loading doors at the far end of the vast kitchen. A small man, puffed up with his own importance stepped inforont of the Vuldrock.

"And just who do you think you are to..." the man whined cutting off abruptly as Ragnar swatted him with a mighty fist sending him spinning to the ground.

"How dare you speak to the Duke's representative like that!" Annika demanded in a furious voice. There was a moment of startled silence but then they were through the doors and out onto a loading bay where a large open backed truck was finishing a delivery. The low wall of the palace was visible in the distance as was a post with armed guards, though they didn't yet appear to be on alert.

"The Duke's representative?" some voices murmured among the engineer staff, as lowly serfs that had been ushering equipment had halted to watch as Orion, Ragnar, and Annika enter the bay area. The short man that had been decked by Ragnar groaned, but didn't rise. Orion took this moment to plant his boot on the fellow's back.

"I am Orion Pentecost," He said aloud. He never enjoyed lying, so he didn't necessarily say he was the Duke's representative, but speaking next certainly led people to think it. "I am here to lead the Duke's Men into the defense of this fair city. I need all hands that are not busy on strict orders with the Duke to saddle up on their transport vehicles and come with me. We'll show these Vuldrok bastards what Imperial Men are made of."

Minutes later, the bay area thrummed and roared with vehicles starting, from combat-tracks to equipment transports to even motorized bikes. Sister Annika had taken the time to count them, being of a meticulous mind and informed Orion they had sixty armed men and slightly over forty engineers and mechanics, along with fifty serfs to accompany them.

Ragnar had elected to take his own motorized bike, grinning almost maliciously as he placed the helmet on his head. Orion had been somewhat opposed to it, giving him so much freedom. However he followed Sister Annika's advise and didn't protest.

The metallic hull of the hovercraft groaned as Orion stepped atop it at the head of the small fleet they had commandeered. With all of his heart, he prayed that they could arrive in time to halt the Vuldrok advance, and that these men he was misleading were not mistreated on his behalf by the Duke, if they even survived that was. At his signal, and once Sister Annika was strapped in the hovercraft, Orion raised his sword and let out a call to battle.

The vehicle lifted off the ground and leveled effortlessly, allowing Orion to remain in his standing position with only the small platform handle below him to steady his stance. The guards at the gate didn't halt them once they started to move.

Who would think they were not under the Duke's orders?
@Penny

Dusk was falling as the makeshift armored column emerged from the palace. By now word of the Vuldrock had spread and the people, understandably fearful had hidden themselves away, leaving the streets deserted save for litter that swirled in the wind. If the palace guard shouted or cursed the sound was lost in the overwhelming roar of engines. Annika could sense people watching them from behind windows and concealment, and felt the slight surge of hope that accompanied the underlying current of fear. Atop one of the tracked vehicles beside Orion a soldier emerged from a turret and, after a moment of fiddling unfurled a banner, that spread into the blue and white Hawkwood colors as the wind began to whip it. Almost immediately shouts and cheers began to rise, first from the soldiers and then spreading to the city itself. Windows were thrown open and blue and white fabric began to appear more and more frequently. Annika could well imagine the Duke and his advisors were furious but there seemed little they could do now.

"Blessed Pancreator," she whispered to herself, "he who made the universe with his own hand, watch over your servant Orion Pentecost this night."

A column of infantry many of them only half dressed and half equiped burst from a side street, falling in alongside the armored column. Annika was no expert but she saw few officers among them, the leaders for the most part being grizzled looking NCOs. She wondered if they had come against orders or just in the absence of them and began to worry that they might be charged with inciting a general mutiny. One of the sergeants, a battered looking man with a hideous scar disfiguring his face, loped over to the hovercraft and leaped onto the skirts and up into the fighting compartment with an enviable grace that his size didn't lead one to expect.

"Sir," he said without preamble, ignoring Annika upon whom he had nearly trod.

"We have reports of the pagans massing at the edge of the woods, what are your orders?"

Questing Knights were single combatants and battlefield soldiers; shock troops. He didn't deny that aspect of his service, and that commanding vast (or small, in this case) armies were usually above his paygrade, for lack of a better term. However, Knights were given schooling in tactics and strategy, and since the Duke was not stepping up, he needed to remember his old lessons on how to defend a city.

"What outfit are you with?" Orion asked, still gazing ahead.

"I'm first Sergeant Burnside of Righteous Company. You also have Rapture Company and Resplendent Company at your service." The grizzled veteran barked. Orion could tell with but a glance that this was a good man. "We couldn't get a hold of our Lieutenants, so we're lacking our usual organization, sir."

The towering spires above them began to grow shorter and shorter as they neared the outer defenses that led into the serf-worked farmland. The last of the sun's rays kissed the fields in an almost blood-like color. A sign from the Pancreator, Orion realized grimly. To the south, he saw the inner walls of the Temple district where most of the peasantry would be, if the Duke's man Engel was to be believed.

"You won't need it. You'll be following me." The Knight assured him. It was imperative he seemed to be absolutely certain of his goal, even if the plan was still formulating in his head. "Spread the word, Sergeant Burnside. Once we make it to the outer city, run north away from the southern river and place every man capable of firing ranged arms larger than sidearms atop the lower buildings and shops. Send every man with a sword, axe, or shotgun and pistol below in their platoons, wedge formations. I'll meet you there."

The two grasped arms, and Burnside gave a grunt and fell back to the others. Orion turned to Annika and offered his hand. "Sister," He said as she took it. He hauled her up. "I know you won't stay behind, but I need you to do something very important for me." He told her, standing very close to her. "I need you to get every vehicle that are not fitted with turrets to the north, and swing left to flank the Vuldroks." He knew there was no singular vehicle commander, but he needed them to follow this command, either through her witchery or her own command. "We need to drive them into the river. Can you do that?"
@Penny