came to stand next to the Northmen chieftain, speaking to him while at the same time looking upon Vlishgnath. “My friends here are in search of someone. Three men, actually, and they have made their way here. Could I ask you a favor, my friend?”
Dnieper roared with laughter. “You want us to help you find these men, do you? Hah hah! We will do this for you, friend Asmodeus! Perhaps Yrgramir shall look upon our good deed and decide to show us the way home! Men! Ready the rowboats! We sail!”
As he shouted, the men let out another bestial roar, brandishing their weapons wildly in the air in approval.
Once aboard the Hjorngrimar, the three paladins couldn’t help but feel as if they’d stepped into one of Loremaster Garadain’s history lessons. The Northmen all about them went busily about their duties aboard the ship, a lively hymn starting up as the oars dipped into the water once again and carried them away from the small island. Every one of the Northmen joined in the hymn, lending his voice to the ominous chorus as the Hjorngrimar lurched forward.
Asmodeus and Dnieper stood at the stern of the ship, engaged in conversation. As they continued to sail, the paladins were surprised to discover that the island on which they had arrived was in fact not the only one, passing by a number of other dots of land amidst the red ocean. Some were quite large, while others were too small for the three of them to all stand on at the same time. Every now and then a breeze would pick up and catch the sails, the oars retracting from the water when this happened, then dutifully dipping back down when it died out.
Vlishgnath stood on the port side of the ship, staring out at the horizon. The chanting had died down for the time being, and Thunderclese and Maximus were mingling with the crew. Whatever Thunderclese was telling them, the Northmen found quite amusing, roars of laughter erupting frequently as Thunderclese seemed to genuinely enjoy himself.
Dnieper came and stood next to Vlishgnath, his large hairy arms folded across his chest. “These men you seek, they are evil men?”
Vlishgnath looked over to Dnieper, grinning slightly at how this particular point was fiercely important to the Northman, and nodded before looking back to the horizon. “The most evil men I’ve ever met.”
Dnieper pondered this for a moment, then spoke again. “Then I am glad to be helping you hunt them down. Where I come from, our customs are often misunderstood, but we are not evil men. We honor our women, and we do not mistreat our animals. There are many who cannot say such a thing.”
Vlishgnath nodded in agreement. “You are indeed an honorable man, Dnieper. I owe you a debt of gratitude for aiding us in our time of need.”
“Hah! If you can get us home, Vilshgnat, I shall consider your debt paid in full!”
Vlishgnath smiled, and just then, heard one of the men Thunderclese was speaking with exclaim, “You know of clan Olafson?! I am Olaf!”
Both men chuckled, but then another more urgent cry came from the crow’s nest. It was in the language of the Northmen, so Vlishgnath did not understand it, but the universal sound of alarm could not be mistaken.
Vlishgnath looked up to the shouting man, then back down to Dnieper, his own voice taking on a tone of concern. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
Dnieper, however, remained calm and even smiled. “He has spotted a large house on one of the islands that was not there before.”
Episode 12
Vlishgnath, Thunderclese, and Maximus stood on the shore of a moderately sized island compared to the rest they had seen. Standing in the center was a large mansion, identical to the LeFay mansion they had first entered, save the fact that this one looked the way the LeFay mansion likely did before all of the atrocities twisted it into what it had become.
Dnieper’s men waited on the boat, Dnieper himself standing just out of reach of the tide next to Vlishgnath. “My men are yours to command, Vilshgnat. Why is it that you do not take them with you? They are very fierce in battle and do not fear death.”
Vlishgnath turned, moving his helmet from under his left arm into his hands and smiling to the Northman before sliding it onto his head. “A very generous offer, Dnieper, but you have done enough for us already. Those men have waited far too long to die here now; they deserve to return home and reunite with their clansmen.”
Dnieper smiled in return, clapping Vlishgnath on the shoulder. “We will wait for your return, Vilshgnat, and our victory hymn shall join with yours when your battle is won.”
Vlishgnath chuckled, reaching out and clasping hands with Dnieper firmly, then the three paladins set off towards the mansion.
The door, much to their surprise, was unlocked. They paused for a moment, looking to each other in confusion.
“Guess they didn’t think we’d ever catch up to them here,” Thunderclese said, shrugging.
With a gesture, Vlishgnath motioned for him to lower his voice, speaking in a quiet tone. “Then let’s not alert them to our presence yet.”
“Right. Sorry.”
That said, Vlishgnath pushed the front door open, revealing a splendid entry hall. Marble sculptures of unparalleled quality stood watch near the door, the almost mournful expressions of the two female statues facing them as they entered. Stepping further inside, a thick, soft carpet greeted their feet, cushioning their steps. Making their way in, the LeFay mansion in its former glory was truly a sight to behold. A magnificent chandelier hung from the ceiling, priceless crystals casting light all over the expansive room in fractal patterns. Yet despite its luxury, the house had a very definite empty feeling…for all its space, it looked almost unlived in.
“Swords, gentlemen…” came Vlishgnath’s command, drawing Retribution from its scabbard in synchronization with Maximus unholstering Judgment and Thunderclese loosing his longsword from its sheath.
“Now, now, will those be entirely necessary?” Jonathan’s voice came from behind them on the second floor, the three men spinning around to see the baron and his two eldest sons staring down at them from the walkway above the entry hall. Bartholomew stood with his hands on the pommels of his scimitars, handling them eagerly. Alexander eyed the group with great ire, as if he were already tired of their presence.
Standing defiantly in the middle of the main hall, Retribution down by his side, Vlishgnath spoke loudly. “Looks like you should have disassembled that portal after all, LeFay…now, you’ll pay for the sins you have committed.”
Jonathan sneered, his tone audacious. “And you should have taken my advice when I told you not to follow us here. You don’t get it, do you boy? You’re not going anywhere now! The key to the portal resided in here, and now it’s been destroyed. You, and your men, are going to die here. Today.”
“Then if I am truly to remain here, Jonathan LeFay…” Vlishgnath raised the point of Retribution to point at the baron, the shimmering blade lighting up and shedding its bright light as it quivered in his hand, eager to leave its mark on the source of darkness it detected, “…my last act shall be to send you to your false messiah.”
Jonathan glared at Vlishgnath, his voice no longer patronizing but eerily concise. “Bartholomew. Kill them.”
The blond LeFay smiled faintly, tilting his head a bit and bowing at the same time. “With pleasure.”
Then, with an amazing display of unnatural grace and speed, Bartholomew was off. Using the walkway railing as a sort of springboard, he bounded from the second floor, pirouetting in the air as he descended towards the three men, his scimitars coming out as he spun, creating a cyclone of blades.
Maximus stepped forward, pushing Thunderclese and Vlishgnath aside as he brought Judgment up in front of him, the flat side of the blade clanging as the scimitars clashed against it, before Bartholomew stopped himself, pushing off into a backflip and landing on his