Rise of humanity: The Saga Of Steel

Veronica sighed deeply. "I-if y-you don't.........then I will." she said, opening her eyes and staring into his face. Tears rolled down her cheeks. "I don't want to have to watch you die and age when I never age at all!" she shouted tearfully.

Emron spoke more. "Veronica, please... That is not a solution! I don't want to lose you... We will think of something... Don't lose hope." He said trying to get Veronica to a hug.

Veronica's mouth quivered before she teared up and hugged him. Her shoulders shook with her sobs.

Emron held her close, but he promised himself that he would find a solution for this problem.

Veronica kept crying but eventually she had no tears left and she stopped and just held onto him.

Holy shit. His movements, his muscles feel like coiled springs , powerful ,flexible and damn quick . His reflexes have been attuned to the slightest of movements ,at this point he wouldn't be surprised IDF he could catch an arrow from the air. Make no mistake this was still a challenge ,fighting of his compatriots ,they are quick and strong and agile as well just not as much as him. He dodges two swipes with a katana blade and stops a overhead blow at the elbow. With a quick guided strike to the bottom of the elbow he breaks the arm, and with a judo style throw launches the trainee over his shoulder . Just as another leaps from his right soaring through the air ,Piri smirks and slides under the leaping assassin grabbing his legb in the air and pulling him down to the ground . The trainee growls and rolls away sword still in hand , Piri has no such weapons ,only the metal scallops on his bracers to counter the strikes of the blade.

Morina rolled her eyes. "I'm hoping we don't face anymore situations that would cause you to play hero." Those zombies were bloody scary enough, she didn't think her heart could take anymore.

Rowan chuckled when Mori spoke, he hoped so too, then he said somewhat awkwardly "I'm glad you made it Mori."

"Me?" She cried, quite dramatically. "I wasn't the idiot who dove head first into the hoard!" Morina knew she would have been fine. She would always had been fine with Rowan next to her.

Rowan chuckled and rubbed the back of his head "I guess i acted a bit rashly when they grabbed you." He said, and smiled at her "Sometimes acting rashly is worth it though" To him saving her was worth becoming zombie chow. He loved her, he really did, shame it took him this long to realize it

Her eyes softened, and a gentle smile curved her lips at his words. She seemed to be about to say something, but shook her head, as if trying to shake the sentimental thoughts from her head. "We should... ah, get going," She said, standing up and offering Rowan a hand. No, she shouldn't think about such things; he hurt her before, there's no way of saying he won't do it again.

Rowan accepted the hand when getting up, as he was still a bit dizzy "I'm not sure if we travel to far we may run into more of these things. I think we killed all the ones around here, so we may want to wait out the night in this area."

Morina helped him up as best she could, which wasn't much as she had about the strength of a stick insect. She made a face at his words, not wanting to stay here any longer than they had to. "But it stinks."

"Being killed stinks more" Arden said looking over when he heard her complain

(Huh?)

(fixed)

"But we could go somewhere less..." She waved her arms about, emphasizing the bodies. "Bloody."

Arden looked at Ves for her opinion

Vesryn wasn't even paying attention. With her head resting on Arden's shoulder, her eyes closed and a somewhat relaxed expression that smoothed the otherwise harsh face, she almost appeared to be asleep. She wasn't, of course; she wouldn't put her guard down so out in the open. But she wasn't far off it.

As the days pass Arden and his companions push north, small groups and lone undead wander the roads, but no hordes like the  one the had encountered the night of the Alma's tears. Lone undead pose no real threat  to the group, and Rowan is able to put one down from a distance with a single magic bolt; some of these stragglers though he uses to help mori practice with aiming her magic bolts. He explained to her that the road was far too dangerous if she couldn't take out a lone undead at a distance. As the group ventured into the north proper the dirt road beneath their feed was dusted in snow, the temperature dropped even more, and it seemed only Arden was able to point out where the path beneath the snow was.  It was two days before the group happened upon a single soldier, a skinny man unfit for battle, perhaps militia as he seemed no professional fighter, and was fleeing for his life from two undead. Undead which Rowan quickly dispatched with a magic bolt each .
"Oh thank the gods!" The puny looking soldier exclaimed as he collapsed before the group, he wore basic leather armor, and had a short sword at his hip, no sign of his shield or main weapon, though it could be assumed he had dropped it in the snow. This man was clearly one who had dropped his weapons and fled a battle, a deserted the penalty for which was death, but he was just a boy really, so Arden's intent was to question him, and allow him to pass. Just before Arden could speak though the boy did "Oh forget the blasted gods thank you instead." he struggled to his feet. "My name is Tulius soldier in the Army of the late king Ivar, and i would not advise you head north, there is a great army of these abominations, besieging king Wulnir in the castle of king Ivar, the army was no match for them they tore us apart, Ivar fell, and Wulnir managed to evacuate some into the castle, but they're shut in, and won't be able to break out...they'll starve in there " The young man hit the four of them with an onslaught of exposition, that left arden stroking his chin for a moment, before asking "DO you know who is behind this?" The young man shook his head "There was no sign of any undead that afternoon, but over night, the night when lights lit the sky there was an organized army at our doorstep. We were all caught sleeping in the barracks, no alarm was sounded, and by the time we knew what was happening half the barracks had fallen and risen again"

Morina, with Rowan's assistance, had appeared to improve with the bolts, even if only slightly, but it was a sign that she wasn't indeed useless, which was good enough for her. She had now barely spared a glance towards Arden the entire trip; it appeared she had been perhaps only been flirting with him before to make Rowan jealous. Now, however, all her focus was on the latter of the two.

~

Vesryn was entirely mentally unprepared for the onset of the cold that steadily grew as the days passed, but thankfully her armour kept her insulated. After a few days of rest, she had finally recovered from that night, and could keep up with Arden's long strides now. Her breath puffed out in a cloud as snow crunched underfoot, and the cold nipped at her exposed skin. She had stuffed her hands in her armpits to keep them warm and to allow her to use them if necessary. Her eyes had flicked to the soldier immediately when she detected him, two throwing knives appearing in both hands as she readied to fight if need be. But she listened to him and Arden in silence, head tilted slightly and expression blank. She knew Arden would wish to rescue them, but an entire undead army against four? They didn't stand a chance. But Arden was noble, and she also knew he would wish for death in battle; she just had to be there to prolong his chances of survival. She went over the information in her head, and her expression turned thoughtful and calculating: they zombies were organised, that means their master must be fighting alongside them, or nearby. Most likely the latter; she imagined if the source or magic falls, so do too the creatures, and any half intelligent necromancer wouldn't put himself at risk. Hiding, perhaps. Or has a high vantage point to look upon his minions. So if they were to find him, he may be weakened due to the extent of magic, and thus easier to eliminate.

Rowan spoke up having mostly the same conclusion, as Vesryn "A necromancer will not be on the field with his minions, he'll have chosen a far off vantage point, a tower if one is available, well away from the field of battle, as far away as he can be and still keep his forces organized. He won't be unguarded he'll be guarded by his most formidable undead organized into a personal guard. from this vantage point he would have ample time to reposition himself or his army were a large force approaching, but if a small band such as ours could sneak in close he may be too far away for his army to aid him."

Arden nodded at rowan and questioned the lad some more, mostly about locations, he also learn their was a watch tower barely in view of the besieged castle on an overlooking mountain, which Arden determined was likely the lair. He asked only a few more questions before letting him go on his way. Then he turned to the others "We're going after the necromancer" he said to them. "Without him his soldiers will lose order, some may scatter, but the main force will be disorganized mess easy pickings for the soldiers left in the castle."

The mountains of Urgarn , the savages and raiders of the north believe they were carved out of the earth by the lightning bolts of their gos, meant to be seen as monuments to their power and skill. While he doubts the part with the lightning bolts a sense of power does emanate of the slopes and spires of the mountains. Ridges of jet black protruding from the huge blankets of snow that cap each great mountaintop.  No wildlife strays this far up, for the wind hols so fierce yet the air is so thin, it is here where he has trained , a great monastery fortress nestled under the cover of snow and the black rock of the mountains. The complex is large yet holds no excess , not even Old Master , the venerable  grand master of the monastery keeps any luxury. They are trained to e hard and stiff like the mountains, and to have excess is to be soft . There are no wants , no desires, just needs, the monastery is a place of needs. Each corridor built from grey rough stone shorn from the mountain itself, the roofs tiled with rough tiles  taken from the hills and valleys below them. He has memorized every hall and every floor , he can see the temple even now in his mind's eye, as he stands on a precipice overlooking the river valley beneath.  

 The monastery houses over 100 warriors in training, each trained from a young age to become a weapon of the elvish people . All other than he, stolen in the night  to be transformed, thrown in the slavers pits and taught to be a weapon for their entertainment, to be a warrior , a week in the harshest conditions can change a lot. Then when he was cold and hard and could kill without a second thought he was moved again, and his true training began. He was taken from the blood and bile of the arena, from the roaring noise and the pounding of his heart, and brought to quiet . The quiet proved so much more dangerous, in the arena it was all bared out there were no secrets only blood and the roar of adrenaline and pain, but the quiet held secrets , held poison and subterfuge and lies . The loud blade comes screeching down, the quiet blade came unheard and in the dark . Until Piri would be left bleeding . A blade stuck in his back without having heard a thing,yet he trained , it had taken a day or two but he was a quick learner, and the sharp hearing of his elf ears helped him greatly. He was still learning but yesterday he was able to strike back against his invisible attackers . Old Master was still teaching him much but he could already feel it, he was being transformed.

(it's been like 3 weeks dude)

Vesryn nodded in agreement. "We should use stealth, that way he will not have time to call in more soldiers," She said to them. It just so happened stealth tactics happened to be her strong suit. Oh, this was going to be fun.