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Enarr
Evil Ghost NoteKNIGHTS OF MELARUS: The IC
Maceron
The skies were never clear in Maceron. Day after day, the smoke from the metal foundries would drift lazily into the sky, mix with the clouds, and form a putrid greyish haze high above the city. The square city rarely had a day of sun. It showed on the pale, ghostlike faces of the peasants in the foundry district. On a usual day, the city would be filled with white faces visiting market stalls and speaking in the streets. Children would sit at the edges of alleys, watching the carts of traders lumber down the main trade roads. Guards would stand attention at the gates and patrol the markets, watching for thieves. Occasionally a knight or thane would ride through the city to raucous applause.
But today, things were different. The streets were packed not with peasants but with travellers, adventurers and warriors from all over Tithe, here to see the Marching Dead, as it was being called. It was true, the high walls of Maceron castle were surrounded by a writhing sea of the dead. They stood at attention, swaying rhythmically, their vacant eye sockets staring up at the top of the castle. Their jaws bobbed up and down, but few could tell what they were saying. A stream of wights still entered the city from outside, walking through gates or, if none were open, walking through the walls.
Pietro Machelli was one such traveller. He stood in a side street, facing the center of the city where the wights congregated. He tossed an apple in his right hand. Laying down on the ground next to him was a massive bird-like creature, a griffon. Its wings were spread in front of it like a pillow and its head rested atop them. It was incredibly tired from many long days of travel. Pietro couldn’t blame him. He too felt as if a nap would be welcome at any moment. He took a bite of the apple and chewed slowly. Then he looked down at the griffon. It would be fine to leave the sleeping monster here to rest. Anyone two tried to capture it would be in for *quite* the surprise. He shrugged and walked off into the city.
Nearby, Anna Strauss sat inside of a corner apothecary. It was a small, dark store, the windows covered with drying herbs. The walls inside were lit by eerie bright green flames. An old woman was hunched on a stool behind the counter. A massive pair of glasses rested on her shriveled nose. Behind her, a white tiger lounged on the floor. The young fairfolk girl flitted around the store, reaching the high shelves with the help of her wings. She scanned the shelves, searching for rare or interesting ingredients. She picked up a small glass bottle containing what appeared to be octopus tentacles. Oh, the things you could find on apothecary shelves.
A few moments later, she was out on the street, her bag now a little heavier. As expected, Pietro was nowhere to be seen. She frowned and walked over to the griffon on the ground. She sighed and patted it on the head. Her, Pietro, and Arya had been travelling together for a week or so, and she could say without a doubt that Pietro was an awful person. She walked across the street to where her own horse rested, tethered to a pole outside of a tavern. She patted it on the nose and ran a hand through its mane. Augustus neighed contently. Anna opened a saddle bag on the horse and put the new ingredients in. The bags were charmed so that only she could open them. Anyone else who opened them would be shot in the face with rainbow-colored goo that burned like fire. Anna looked all around.
Come to think of it, she hadn’t seen Arya since she entered the apothecary shop. She looked up at the tavern. It was a quaint wooden place called the Unicorn’s Respite. The name made Anna smirk. Everyone knew unicorns were a myth. She figured it wouldn’t be a bad idea to go inside. She needed to gather information on this wight horde for Cosmas, and a drink wouldn’t be too bad an idea either. She quite liked the sweet wines of southern Talbor. The fact that it looked like the sky could burst at any moment was also weighing on her mind. She patted Augustus on the nose another time and then walked inside. She was sure she’d catch up with the others eventually.
***
Pietro found himself on a side street with a surprising amount of wights. He saw that the source of the backup was a group of guards blocking the road. They were different from the others, with shinier armor and a more professional disposition. At the lead of them was a blond-haired man. The people looked towards him with admiration. Intrigued, Pietro approached one of the people on the side of the street.
“Say, babe,” he said to one girl. “Who are those guards out there? They look much less dead-eyed than the rest of the guards in this city.
“Why, that’s Kane’s guard,” the girl exclaimed! “They’re local heroes, warriors who stand up for corruption and protect the people! Oh, isn’t Sir Kane so heroic and handsome?” Pietro rolled his eyes and frowned. He could feel his shoulders grow heavy.
“Eh, he’s okay-looking,” Pietro said. “But I’m much handsomer. What do you say we go for a drink?” The woman looked at him with a raised eyebrow and then ignored him. Pietro felt his face flush red hot. He slunk away, muttering dark thoughts under his breath.
***
In the center of the city, King Draco grew restless. He stood at his balcony, two knights at each side of him. The horde of wights had grown exponentially over the last week. Instead of a few hundred wights in the city center, there were now tens of thousands of them. The number of wights nearly outweighed the number of citizens in the city. Down below, half the city guard and many of the Knights of the Ram hacked away at the horde, attempting to kill them. It was to no avail, however. As soon as their bodies collapsed, the wights would reform and continue to stand.
“The situation is growing dire,” Draco muttered to one of the knights near him. “Our city cannot take many more of these beasts. I haven’t slept in days! Someone needs to stop this madness!” Sir Allen rolled his eyes inside of his helmet. He knew that the king had slept with two virgins of the town just the last night. The king made him stand at attention at his chamber door to protect him from the wights. Sir Fallon approached from the room behind them. He bowed upon nearing proximity to the king.
“Milord,” Sir Fallon said. “My spies across the kingdom tell me that the wight hordes on the roads are beginning to diminish. The number of creatures joining the current horde is diminishing. Once they have stopped, we can begin discussing how we will remove the current horde. An agent from Nepharie also tells me that a similar horde is beginning to develop in Capital City.”
“At least if these beasts take me, they will take the pompous Alanus as well,” King Draco seethed. “Any other news, my dear friend?” He spoke without turning around to face Fallon, as if he feared that if he turned around, his soul would be taken.
“I hear that Lord Sir Frederick, Thane of Ferdinand, is currently riding towards Maceron from Ferdinand Shire. He brings with him several other armed travellers. Perhaps they are reinforcements from his shire guard.
“At this point, I will take whatever soldiers I can get. This castle must be protected at all costs. I will not have my kingdom taken from me my these savages!” He slammed his fist on the marble railing surrounding the balcony. Then he screamed:
“No one will take my divine right from me!”
Knights of Melarus Act I: A Gathering of Wights