Valkyrie's Shadow

Legacy of the Plains: Act 3, Chapter 20

Legacy of the Plains: Act 3, Chapter 20

Chapter 20

A dull clunk sounded from the Mirror of Remote Viewing. The assembled proctors winced. Conveyed through the item’s clear surface was a scene where an Adventurer lay sprawled on the ground, though there were no opponents to be seen.

“Hm? Why if it is not…Alice? Yes, the one with the name like mine. What are you doing on the ground?”

The rest of the Silver-rank party gaped at the speaker incredulously. The incident had been plain for all to see.

“Are you fucking with me, you bitch?” Alice snarled from where she lay propped up on her elbows, “You just hit me with your godsdamned shield again for no reason!”

“I did?” Alessia replied in an innocent voice, “All I remember was something coming up behind me. It was so very fast – I thought it was an arrow! Or was it an assassin? Luckily, I have a nice big shield that stops both arrows and assassins.”

The Paladin offered a hand to Alice, who slapped it away and wobbled back to her feet. Alessia shrugged and turned back around.

“I wonder if another arrow will mysteriously appear behind me again in five minutes,” she said to no one in particular. “This grass must taste very good for it to happen all the time.”

“It’s moss,” Linden, the party’s Ranger said.

“Is that so? As expected of a knowledgeable Ranger. I never learned the difference – nothing grows in Katze. Let us move on, yes?”

Alessia waited until the party looked ready to continue, then motioned for Linden to lead the way.

“It took her exactly two incidents to figure out Alice’s Talent and its timing,” Ludmila noted absently. “She didn’t even let her get by the first time.”

“Does she have to be so heavy-handed?” Penn said, “She just smacked Alice flat on her ass, no warning or anything.”

“If there wasn’t such a huge gap in power between them,” Lawrence added, “she wouldn’t have been able to pull that off.”

Ludmila wasn’t so sure about that. While she presented a bright and cheerful face when introducing herself to the others, Alessia’s demeanour changed entirely when she entered a scenario where combat was anticipated. From the way that she worked with the other members of her party, Alessia possessed a good sense of everyone’s roles and an awareness of everyone’s state.

With that veteran’s air came discipline that she would almost certainly try to enforce – even if it required the use of Martial Arts.

“You’ve all reviewed Alice’s dossier,” Ludmila told them. “Her tendency to dash off and make her parties chase after her has been an issue since she’s been a Copper-rank. No amount of discussion, reasoning or warnings have worked to rein in her behaviour up until this point – it appears that a firm hand is the solution. Better this than ending up critically injured or even dead: Alice was well on her way to that result.”

“But I doubt Alessia knew that,” Lawrence pointed out. “She just noticed Alice doing something she didn’t like and flattened her.”

“Maybe not,” Ludmila admitted, “but she identified a problem and acted decisively to address it. She has plenty of real experience, and I think the Adventurer Guild will benefit from it. The generally free-spirited nature of Adventurers combined with the number of new recruits in our ranks has resulted in us painfully stumbling our way towards developing party discipline and solid routines for our expeditions.”

“I don’t think things are as bad as you make them out to be,” Lawrence countered, “and there’s nothing wrong with Adventurers being free-spirited. And they’re not ‘our ranks’ – they’re members. We’re not trying to form our own Imperial Legion, you know.”

Ludmila wordlessly turned her attention back to the training party. It seemed that whenever topics of discipline and standards were broached, the majority of Adventurers – regardless of veterancy – pushed back. The culture inherited from generations of independence and freedom in both tales and reality was carried over into the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Adventurer Guild by both its veteran members and new applicants.

It was easier to establish sound practices back when everyone was uncertain of how things would be in the new organization, and errors were more costly. With advancement came confidence and the willingness to pursue what one saw as the ideal life of Adventuring. In the past, Adventurers always took on jobs, and thus risks, by their own choice. While they could no longer pick out their jobs, they still chose their own path, their own leaders, and their own methods. Success was the benchmark of an Adventurer, and anything was acceptable as long as it led to success.

The chaotic cycle of Adventurers striving for success while also wanting to do whatever they desired had become the norm. Veteran members saw nothing wrong with it, as it was the way the Guild had always been. Competition between members was what fueled the drive to improve, and training unavailable in the past was open for anyone to partake in, free of charge. To them, this was more than good enough.

Lord Mare said nothing on the matter, preferring to avoid confrontation and focusing on his continual refinement of the Adventurer Training Area. For some reason, no matter how hard he trounced them with his training courses, the Adventurers never blamed him. It was always a challenge that they had proven themselves insufficient for in some way.

Ludmila supposed it was in reality the best approach, and the talented young Dark Elf Druid had known all along. Adventurers valued their independence and were generally obstinate, so making them face personal failures that barred their advancement was one of the sure ways of ‘subtly’ forcing change.

The dull clunk of Alice smashing into Alessia’s shield sounded from the mirrors again. Ludmila shook her head. It was obvious that Alessia wouldn’t let Alice run off. Was it so hard for Alice to restrain herself for a single session?

“Maybe it is not the taste of grass,” Alessia said. “Could it be that you are one of those who take pleasure from pain?”

“Why do you keep doing that?!”

“I would ask the same of you,” the Paladin peered at the fuming Fencer. “There is no discernible benefit to your actions, no plan and no purpose. You are like a farm boy with a pitchfork dashing heedlessly onto a swamp because you heard that there was a Troll nearby. It is worse since no true conviction drives you – only lust for glory and empty-headed notions of what it is to be a warrior.”

“You don’t know me,” Alice sneered.

“One does not need to know you,” Alessia replied casually. “Your behaviour speaks for itself. How many thousands like you have I seen perish, I wonder? Eaten by Ghouls, turned by Wights or drained to a lifeless husk by Wraiths and Spectres? You Adventurers are fortunate to have this fine facility that should eventually beat the stupidity out of you. Most idiots are not so fortunate and meet grisly ends upon enacting their foolishness.”

“Bullshit!” Alice snapped back, “You’re younger than I am. How could you know any of that?”

“How, indeed…” Alessia murmured as she motioned for Linden to scout ahead again.

The party worked its way forward, with the Paladin a veritable wall that stood before any and all opponents. Despite her clearly superior equipment and prowess, she adhered to her role and expected the rest to fill theirs. Ludmila leaned forward with interest. Unlike a regular Adventurer, who would be sure to display their feats to everyone who would see them, Alessia’s conduct spoke of a life of discipline where martial prowess was subordinate to the greater scheme of things. Like Ludmila, Alessia was not a warrior who exulted in honour and renown, but a soldier who prioritized order and duty.

Towards the end of the session, the party gathered in a corridor before the ‘final encounter’. For whatever reason, both the Adventurers and Lord Mare favoured a climactic final battle where the opposing sides were evenly matched. They couldn’t quite have that arrangement with Alessia’s out-of-place strength, but some small adjustments were made to at least present challenges for the party.

The last room was the grotto-type. A Demihuman camp was set up on a raised island surrounded by water on three sides. Nine Lizardmen occupied the camp, and several defensive barricades had been raised.

“Three mystics,” Linden said in a low voice, “three hunters, three warriors. Those three warriors look especially strong – between them and their support, we’re probably at a disadvantage.”

“How strong are these warriors compared to me?” Alessia asked.

“You’re stronger, but there’s three of them and they’re stronger than the rest of us. They’ve probably been set up ‘specially for you – if the three of them can pin you down, we’re still five against six. We lose too many and it counts as a fail.”

The Ranger’s assessment was, for the most part, correct. The Lizardmen had ranged superiority and the stronger-than-usual Lizardman warriors had been brought in as a way to occupy Alessia.

It was an odd scenario that wouldn’t normally happen. The last time was with Ilyshn’ish a week previous, but she simply stood well away from combat and performed in a pure support role. Alessia was a front line combatant, which made balancing the fight far more difficult. Still, the appearance of strong outsiders looking to join the Adventurer Guild was an eventuality that they needed to prepare for.

Things would have been simpler if provisional ranks were handed out and foreign entries started at an appropriate level of difficulty. The Guildmaster and the other veterans, however, insisted that all new members had to go through the same process as everyone else. Presumably, it was to become accustomed to the way of things and to prevent being singled out by other members for preferential treatment. Unlike the old Adventurer Guild, all it took was a few trials to catch up, so it was a small price to pay for the sake of smooth relations between members.

Alessia’s gaze crossed over each member of the party.

“Do we have a way to remove their support with our ranged attackers?”

“With three hunters,” the Wizard replied, “it will be difficult. They outrange our casters, and our one Ranger won’t be able to suppress all of them.”

“Hmm…then we will use brute force.”

“…brute force?”

“Yes,” Alessia nodded. “Since adjustments have been made for my presence, it is only fair that I should use a bit more of my ability, yes? I will divide their attention and disrupt the balance of their formation by attacking first. The rest of the party maintain pressure on them from this side and strike when the opportunity presents itself.”

After a few minutes of discussion, the party made their preparations. The Lizardmen’s heads turned to watch as a sole Adventurer in gleaming mithril plate strode towards them. They had little time to be confused or even communicate as Alessia’s even steps quickly brought her right up to their defensive line. The closest Lizardman warrior raised his battleaxe.

“?Slash?!”

“?Shukuchi?.”

Alessia’s figure flickered away, and the Lizardman’s Martial Art whistled through the empty air.

“?Shield Slam?!”

A familiar clunk issued from behind the Lizardmen. The first of the mystics was sent flying through the air and into the lake below. Before they finished turning at the sound, Alessia was already upon the next mystic. Her warhammer whistled out from under her shield and smashed into the side of the Lizardman’s knee. He cried out in agony as he collapsed onto his ruined leg. The Paladin’s Warhammer swung down after it, smoothly going from one attack to the next.

“?Shukuchi?.”

The sling stones hurtling in from the Lizardman hunters missed their mark as Alessia’s figure flashed away again. The third mystic’s snout erupted in a spray of teeth and blood as the Paladin’s hammer rose and crunched into her chin. Alessia reached out and grasped the fallen Lizardman’s tail, giving it an experimental tug.

“?Ability Boost?.”

Attacks from the hunters’ slings bounced off of the Paladin’s raised shield. The sight of the 160 centimetre-tall girl dragging off a Lizardman well over two metres long would have been comical, save for the words that accompanied the action.

“Hmm…do you think this one will wake when it hits the water? I hope I am not held responsible for the drowning.”

The Lizardman warriors, divided between going after Alessia and keeping the rest of the Adventurer party at bay, raced to stop Alessia. With a roar, the first to reach her raised his scimitar high overhead.

“?Severing Blade?!”

“?Fortress?.”

The powerful attack abruptly ceased against the Paladin’s shield. Alessia’s mithril-shod boot lashed out and caught her attacker in the midriff. He was sent sprawling backwards but was replaced by a second warrior. This one was more cautious, testing her defences with a long spear while the third warrior moved to flank her.

They had run out of time, however. With a collective shout, the rest of the Adventurer party charged forward, overrunning the now-exposed hunters. With the odds suddenly turned against the Lizardman defenders, the end of the fight followed shortly after.

A few minutes later, Miss Pestonya appeared to clean up the aftermath.

“That’s the Martial Art that you’ve been trying to figure out, isn’t it?” Lawrence asked as the proctors jotted down their final observations.

“That’s the one,” Ludmila replied.

“It’s no wonder you keep pushing for it,” the Bard said. “That was almost cheating – no, it pretty much was cheating.”

“I would say that’s Martial Arts in a nutshell,” Ludmila smirked. “That Shield Slam came right on the heels of her Shukuchi, too. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s trying to develop a third or fourth stage Martial Art by combining those two.”

“You can do that?”

“I don’t see why not,” Ludmila replied. “In theory, the development of Martial Arts is only limited by one’s expertise, physical conditioning, mental focus and imagination. It’s called a ‘warrior’s magic’ because what can be achieved may as well be.”

Her own repertoire of Martial Arts was still rather plain, the majority being first stage techniques. Polearms had a huge range of options when it came to both personal and formation-based combat. Exploring all of the elements of her training and weaving them together into a true school of combat would be the work of many decades.

“How do you even defend against that?” Pool frowned, “One second, she’s safely out of weapon range. The next, she’s right in your face. If she manages to combine those two Martial Arts, you’ll be on the floor before you can blink.”

“I think that’s the point,” Ludmila replied. “If the opposing side has aggressive attackers, you’ll have to reserve some of your focus for Sensory Arts so you can detect their attack and respond appropriately. If someone moves on you like that when you’re using a bow, it’s probably best to just disengage and reset the relative positioning between you. A frontliner probably won’t overextend to the point that they can’t respond to threats against their side.”

“And if they stubbornly chase you around,” Pool rubbed his chin, “you can still put holes into their support while leading them all over the place. It’s a solid counter as a Ranger, but casters would still be screwed if that happens to them.”

“That’s what spells like Dimension Move are for,” Penn shrugged. “Druids and Clerics have their own options too. Well-equipped ones are also tough enough to go toe-to-toe with a warrior of equivalent Difficulty Rating. Depending on the circumstances, that might be a bad trade for the warrior.”

“This assumes that the sides are nice and even,” Ludmila said. “Out on an expedition, you may run into entire tribes that decide you shouldn’t be where you are. Warriors are far more common than any sort of magic caster in a race that isn’t an innate caster. This level of aggression could be overwhelming when it’s hundreds or thousands coming after you.”

While the Azerlisia Survey Expedition had been nearly catastrophic for the Adventurer Guild, the Feoh Teiwaz Expedition was almost entirely peaceful. The Adventurers had chalked up their run-in with the Frost Giants as near the high end of difficulty relative to what they might encounter on expeditions in general, and Ludmila was hard-pressed to say that they were wrong in their assessment. Still, all it took was running into the wrong adversaries to end up in far more trouble than expected.

The proctors compared their notes one last time before splitting up to speak to the party members that they were responsible for. Ludmila went to her usual office, settling into her seat as she quietly waited to deliver her debriefing.

A knock on the door sounded several minutes later.

“Enter,” she called out.

The handle of the door turned, and the gleaming figure of a Paladin in mithril plate strode into the office. She closed the door softly behind her before coming up to stand stiffly in front of the desk.

“Alessia di Altamura,” she said in a clear voice, “Reporting for debriefing.”

“Defender of the High Walls,” Ludmila smiled warmly. “That’s quite the fitting name for a Paladin.”

Alessia’s rigid expression brightened.

“Oh, you know my language,” Alessia exclaimed excitedly, “this is most rare and unexpected! To be honest, I did not know what to expect when I came here – at home, we learned that the north is a savage place full of heretics, heathens, Demihumans and monsters…hmm…this is not wrong, now that I think about it. When I first heard I would be coming here, I thought I would end up like the one in that grand fresco in Kami Miyako: standing atop a pile of corpses while slaying demons.”

Ludmila had never visited the capital of the Slane Theocracy – or any part of the nation, despite her demesne being close by. She had, however, heard of the fresco Alessia was referring to. Clara described it as ‘heroic’ and ‘inspiring’.

“My home is nearer to the Theocracy,” Ludmila said. “The Priest there taught in Theocracy script. It was only afterwards that I learned the language of Re-Estize.”

“Ah…” Alessia nodded slowly, then her smile faded a bit, “then I suppose that means you know the other meaning of my name. I hope I do not offend you by my being so.”

Alessia’s name, which was affiliated with a territory and had no Noble components, was particularly awkward in the north. In both the north and the south, the ‘di’ in her name indicated that one bore an honorary knighthood. In the south, however, these were Holy Knights anointed by the Temples. In the north, they were titles granted by the sovereign. She would most likely be given a hard time in Re-Estize for being an honorary knight with a territorial association reserved for landed nobility.

“A boorish individual elsewhere might use it to pick meaningless fights,” Ludmila replied. “In the Sorcerous Kingdom, however, your name should not draw the ire of the locals – nobility or otherwise.”

“I see. Well, you are most kind to explain this, erm…”

Ludmila rose from her seat, extending a hand.

“Ludmila Zahradnik,” she said. “I occasionally serve as a proctor for the Adventurer Guild, though my duties to the realm often make me a rare sight. Pleased to meet you, Alessia.”

“Zahradnik…” Alessia’s voice trailed off, then her eyes widened, “are you by chance Baroness Zahradnik?”

“I was not aware that I had made a name for myself in the Theocracy.”

“Unfortunately, I think no one would know of you by name, domina. I have heard some stories since I came here, however. Is it true that you destroyed an army of over a hundred thousand Demihumans recently?”

The defence of the upper reaches wasn’t very well-known in the Sorcerous Kingdom, for various reasons. It must have been Themis that had mentioned it to her.

“This is true, yes.”

“How does this work?” Alessia asked, “Does the Sorcerous Kingdom not include Demihumans amongst its citizens?”

“Many are counted amongst its citizens, including Demihumans. It would be simpler to see us as a nation. Foreign threats are foreign threats, no matter what they are. We should move on to the business at hand – I do not wish to keep you, as you have further trials to prepare for.”

“Further trials…this means that I will be allowed to advance?”

“Yes, of course,” Ludmila replied. “You will be a Gold-rank Adventurer once we are done here.”

Alessia released a visible sigh of relief. She raised a hand to scratch her cheek.

“I thought I would be castigated,” the Paladin said. “I attacked that girl not just once, but multiple times.”

“That was one thing I wished to speak with you about,” Ludmila told her, “but a reprimand was the furthest thing from my mind. I was curious what drove you to act as you did.”

“A habit, perhaps. At my former station, that type does not live for very long. Not only that, but by being idiots they often bring about the end of better men. If one does not immediately act to correct their behaviour, it will only bring woe upon everyone else.”

Ludmila recalled Alessia’s words to Alice in the Adventurer Training Area.

“The culture of the Adventurer Guild must be hard for you to digest,” she said.

“It should not be long until I catch up with Vicar Aspasia,” Alessia replied. “After that, we will see. I am hoping that, at that rank, there will be less foolishness and more sense in the heads of these Adventurers.”

She wondered if Alessia’s hopes would come to pass. While it was true that more experienced Adventurers would have a better grasp of the common sense of their vocation, their self-confidence and sense of empowerment tended to lead to an even more pronounced array of behaviours one might associate with being an Adventurer. Historically, it was to the point where high-ranked teams would come to disagreements with one another and foster bad blood over team pride, jealousy, and differences in perspectives and thinking.

With the way that the Sorcerous Kingdom’s Adventurer Guild was organized, Ludmila hoped it was something that would be mitigated. She was, however, under no illusion that personal conflicts wouldn’t arise.

“What is your relation to Vicar Aspasia, by the way?” Ludmila asked.

“I was summoned from my former post to become her adjutant,” Alessia answered. “I was honestly quite surprised to find that I would be serving alongside a Vicar, but I am pleased to have an assignment with someone close to my age and capabilities.”

Ludmila eyed the girl standing across from her. She was fair in appearance and bound to blossom into the very image of an energetic, bright, and beautiful young woman. Like Themis, the driving reason for Alessia’s specific presence in E-Rantel and her involvement in the Adventurer Guild was most likely to create publicity for the Temples.

“That Bishop is really…”

“Hm?”

“It is nothing,” Ludmila’s smile returned. “I would very much like to speak to you about a great many things, and I have not seen Vicar Aspasia for weeks. Would the two of you like to join me for dinner at my manor tomorrow?”

The Paladin

Defenders of the Faith. Champions of Order and Righteousness. The implacable adversary of evil. Through the lens of common perception and bardic lore, Paladins are all this and more. Yet, when the definition of good and evil varies by race and culture; where a myriad of gods grace countless pantheons around the world, what it means to be a Paladin becomes a point of confusion for those who do not walk its straight and narrow path.

Not limited to the Human race or even to Dwarves and Elves, Paladins may exist as fearsome Beastmen, mysterious Myconids, or even mighty Dragons. Many question how they can all be considered the same: why a Troll who relishes unborn fetuses served straight from their mothers’ bellies as a fine delicacy would be seen as a virtuous paragon, or why a Human who indiscriminately razes the settlements of Demihumans would be considered a champion of justice. Indeed, the greatest of Paladins are as often seen as dreaded harbingers of ruin by their enemies as they are pillars of righteousness by their allies.

To a Paladin, the answer is simple and rarely reconsidered. It is the tenets of their faith and their oaths of service that serve as the measure by which all of their actions are determined. Erroneously applying the values of one’s own society to a Paladin of a different race or religion has often been the cause of a swift and merciless death. Many of the bloodiest conflicts in history have been between nations and alliances of goodly leanings: where Paladins of opposing ideologies wage war on one another with unwavering conviction.

As a class, Paladins are archetypical holy warriors who specialize in defence, sustainability and the destruction of evil opponents. Capable of spellcasting, unleashing an array of powerful skills and performing Martial Arts, they are a versatile class that can more often than not outlast their adversaries. Though not inherently a Commander class, the bastion-like resilience of a Paladin, combined with their spells and skills that influence those around them, often places them in the role of officers in a nation’s armed forces.

Oddly enough, a Paladin is at their most effective not when facing enemies without, but those within. In their own societies, good and evil are more easily discerned and many Paladins take on the role of agents assisting in local law enforcement and security. Those in theocratic states may don the mantle of an inquisitor. This does not, however, keep Paladins away from where they deem they are needed the most, and they may be found anywhere their faith leads them.