Annorae Allsworth

The Drewyn estate was a large square mansion atop a hill, fenced off and showing the obvious signs of neglect. Weeds had engulfed most of the surrounding lawn, and a couple of mansion windows had been boarded off.

"Minister Drewyn struck me as a little odd, but not negligent." Housstrum whispered, as the party trotted uphill towards the estate. A couple of windows glimmered with light, warning that there were certainly people at home.

Elger stopped them by the western side of the fence, looking through the garden and at the back door of the mansion.
"I'm not the stealthiest bastard that the Dominion has ever seen, and I wager you aren't either, Miss Allsworth. Let a couple of my people go in first. We'll see what happened to our agents inside."

"And if they get caught too?" Annorae asked.

"If Nalbin finds out that Wardens are trespassing in the homes of their elite, it would cause a scandal that the Dominion cannot afford." Elger said, pulling a runed blade from his belt - Annorae's runed blade. "So if we are truly caught, we are going to have to pretend that we are Godslayers. Blame it on them, and give them unwanted attention."

Elger handed the runed blade over to one of his Wardens, and a team of four climbed over the fence and made for the estate. Housstrum closed his eyes and tilted his head backwards.
"An extra pair of eyes won't hurt." he mumbled aloud.

An owl landed on his shoulders.

Annorae gasped.
"Ellie?"

"Good evening, Miss Allsworth." a cheery female voice issued from the owl.

Housstrum clucked with his tongue and motioned towards the estate. Ellie took off, flying over the fence, and was swallowed by the night.

-

Fifteen minutes later, the sound of crashing glass and breaking furniture exploded from the estate. Elger looked to Annorae and Housstrum, but did not wait for their responses.
"If they caught the first group of Wardens, they would be expecting the second. I'm afraid it may come down to bloodshed after all."

Elger stretched his hands out, and tendrils of fire burst from his fingertips. The flames wrapped around the bars of the fence, chewing through metal and creating a human-sized hole into the estate gardens. Elger stepped through, and Housstrum followed.

"You don't have to come, Annorae." Housstrum warned. "Ellie sensed magic coming from inside, but she suspects it isn't just the Wardens this time. Go back to your party. It's safer that way."

"I'm not going to abandon my allies, Housstrum. I may be able to save lives, because the Wardens can't even speak Nalbinian. I may be able to diffuse the situation. I'm a diplomat for a reason."

With a huff, Housstrum jogged through the gardens, following Elger. They made for the back door. Annorae did not hesitate to follow.

The back door led to the kitchen, and from the kitchen they emerged into the dining room. A gigantic dining room table lay in the middle of the room, but it had been smashed into splinters. A dead body lay amidst the wreckage, clutching Annorae's runed blade. One of the Wardens had been killed.

The other three Wardens who had gone in first had their backs to the wall, a whole team of crossbowmen having cornered them. Some of them were injured. Elger roared, charging the crossbowmen. They turned, shooting at him. He erected a magical shield before him, which swallowed the bolts.
"For the Godslayers! For the Traitor!" he yelled.

But what had thrown the dead Warden across the room, smashing the table?

A giant grey shape leapt into view, soaring over the broken table. It landed between Elger and the crossbowmen.
"Master Drewyn has been sent for. He will be home soon, Godslayer. Surrender, and your men will be spared. We already have your spy in the dungeon. If you resist, you will be dismembered."

Housstrum cursed.
"It seems Drewyn is a pacter. Because that is a familiar."

A pair of dribbling jaws were clenched around Damien Housstrum's leg. Damien's hands were on the familiar's head as it bit down, fire radiating from his palms, filling the room with the stench of burning spirit flesh. Until this night, Annorae did not know what a burning spirit smelled like. It smelled wrong, almost like some exotic disease being cauterized.

Another Warden had died, pinned to the wall by a hail of crossbow bolts. Elger and the remaining Wardens were hacking at the crossbowmen to exact payment for their deed, but the crossbowmen were making a hasty retreat into the next rooms.
"Let them go!" Elger called, upon seeing Annorae arrive with the prisoner from downstairs. "We have to leave!"

The familiar's hold on Damien was broken, and it wheeled to snap at Elger. Elger hacked at it with his sword, creating a gash on its side. Annorae had to help them. She saw Damien limping away, pain on his face. Enraged, she swung the runed blade at the familiar. The sword met the beast's neck, opening its throat and spraying blood onto her legs.

It would have killed any normal animal, but a spirit? A spirit, it seemed, did not work like a true animal, because the familiar was not brought down by the blow. Snarling, it rounded on Annorae.
"You will die, Godslayer."

Then it leapt at her. Annorae landed on her back, the beast atop her. She jammed her runed sword into its belly, and the beast slumped on her with a final defiant howl.

Her right arm began to shake, her blood turning to ice, her skin feeling too tight for her body. She gasped, as the runes on the sword began to glow green. A door opened in her mind. It was like suddenly remembering a part of her life she had forgotten.

Except it was not her life she was remembering. The door opened into the mind of another creature. It was the familiar she had just slain, and his presence was emanating from within the runed blade.
"What have you done?" The familiar's voice echoed in her mind. "Release me!"

Damien Housstrum looked to her, dazed.
"Did you-"

"Get her on her feet!" Elger shouted to his Wardens, who pushed the familiar's corpse off of Annorae. "We don't have much time, Drewyn will be here soon!"

Placing his hands on his leg, Damien Housstrum groaned.

"Don't, fool!" Elger shouted at Damien, but Damien paid no heed.

Red light erupted from his hands, wrapping around his injured leg. With a shriek of pain, Damien's wounds began to close up. When it was over, the old man looked pale and shaken. Then something cracked, a loud sound blasting from Damien's leg. The old man fell forward, hitting his head on the edge of the broken table.

"What happened?" Annorae shouted, throat raw.

"He tried to use burst healing. Burst healing rarely works." Elger cursed. "Lift him up!"

Elger grabbed Damien and began to drag him towards the back door. Another Warden lifted Damien, the two Wardens carrying him out together.

As they set foot in the gardens of the estate, the distant sound of horses and men shouting could be heard. Drewyn was coming home. Carrying Damien, Annorae realised they might be too late to escape.

Winter 2485.
January.
Allsworth Estate in Tystead.

News of an attack on the Drewyn estate engulfed Tystead. Fingers were pointed, factions blamed, but everyone suspected that the Godslayers were behind it. They had been behind Myrnium, after all, so why not this also? Nobody suspected Annorae, who was able to hide away in her estate undisturbed for the most part. She spoke with the spirit in her sword, Crispin, trying to deflect his wrath. She had taken his body and imprisoned him, but it was all because she wanted to stop the Godslayers. Crispin could at least understand that it had not been motivated by evil intention. If Crispin was to be believed, he knew nothing about any dealings between the Godslayers and his master. So if nothing else, the Wardens could be sure that Maxwell Drewyn was not one of their enemies - although they had destroyed his house.

The evening following the New Year's celebrations, a giant owl landed in the Allsworth estate. It was Ellie.

"Mistress, you must help us."

"Ellie?" Annorae asked. "What's wrong?"

"Damien is in trouble." the owl hooted.

Annorae wondered if the authorities had caught him - but she had a feeling it was worse than that.
"Tell me everything."

"A shapeshifter has murdered most of the Wardens in the city. Damien escaped, but we suspect that all the Wardens at Arkheath are dead as well. The Godlsayers must be behind this."

"They're hunting us?"

Ellie scooted closer, head cocked.
"Yes. Damien wants you to warn the King. To tell him everything. Subterfuge failed us. You have to confess, Annorae. Will you do it? For Damien?"

Winter 2485.
January.
Tystead.

Annorae spent her last few days in Nalbin preparing herself for the journey ahead back in her father's estate. Inevitably, she was forced to tell him the truth of her adventures. It was too late to keep things quiet - the King himself now knew. He listened to her over supper, and when Annorae had told all, he was quiet.

"Father?" Annorae asked, concerned.

Dougal met her eyes, sadness reflected in his.
"The Godslayers are Nalbinian, mostly. But the Traitor whom they serve never had anything to do with Nalbin. Only the Paragon ever interacted with Nalbin out of all the Archons."

"What are you suggesting?" Annorae pressed.

"Well." Dougal said, stirring his soup. "There are many knightly orders dedicated to the Paragon in Nalbin, as you know. And it is has been whispered that they are tied to the Godslayers. There is a reason the Wardens came here, sweet daughter. The Dominion has never trusted us, and we have never trusted the Dominion. They try to change our history books, bit by bit, until the past is all but forgotten. But some of us, ranked highly, we know the truth."

"The truth?" Annorae dared to ask, although she was not sure she would like the answer.

"The truth, Annorae." Dougal began. "Is that the Paragon and the Traitor are probably one and the same. And that is why the Godslayers are so strong here, my dear. That is why their swords are like the sword of the King. Many knightly orders remain, dedicated to the Paragon. All the great noble houses have such holy knights. Your cousin Bertom is one. Perhaps these knightly orders gave rise to the Godslayers?"

"And you mention this... now?" Annorae wondered. Dougal seemed to be holding something back.

The old man sighed, looking more tired than she had ever seen him.
"Bertom is gone, Annorae. I think the authorities found out he was a Godslayer-"

"Bertom? A Godslayer?" Annorae was not sure if she was more shocked that her cousin was a Godslayer, or that her father seemed to have known all along. "Why didn't you tell anyone?"

"To protect the family." Dougal stated, clearly. "I suspected Bertom, but I was not sure. I could not be sure. There are many knightly orders, Annorae. If the Godslayers have infiltrated Nalbin as much as I think they have, then the Dominion will burn Nalbin to the ground to cleanse the corruption. We can't allow them to do that."

It seemed like the best time to tell him where she was going, and so Annorae did.
"Father, I am going to the Sanctum. The King sent me, to make amends."

Dougal nodded slowly.
"I knew you were leaving, but I did not think it would be so far..."

-

Annorae Allsworth saddled Zoma the following morning and prepared to leave Tystead behind. She would not be seeing it for a very long time yet, and so she savoured the morning breeze, brushing its way through the trees in her garden, the sound of rustling branches almost soothing to her. It was January, and it would be a cold ride. The snows had started to fall anew in the past weeks, but it was a clear morning that she was leaving on.

Aidan would be riding with her to the Holy City, along with one of the most respected of knights from the King's court. She would meet the knight, Sir Martom Wylcey, at the western city gate at noon. Until then, she had some goodbyes to say. Alongside Aidan, she rode to the inn where Damien Housstrum was staying with Ellie.

The wandering pacter offered her some mead, but she declined.
"I see your leg is healing well."

Damien huffed.
"It was never a problem."

"I recall you having to be dragged out of that house." Annorae said with a slight smile.

"I'll take the mead." Aidan offered from behind her. Damien shot him a glare, but then smacked some coins into the barkeep's hand and let Aidan drink up.

Ellie was nowhere to be seen, but Annorae could understand why. The presence of a spirit at such a time of crisis would worry the patrons.
"Listen, Annorae. I know the King only planned to send you, Aidan and that stuck-up bastard Marty Wylcey to the Holy City, but Marty knows nothing about that place, and neither do you or Aidan. I've been before. I could guide you."

Annorae put her hand on Damien's.
"I appreciate the offer, Damien. You've done a lot to help me. But I'm not sure the King was planning on having you accompany us when he-"

"Oh, stop it, girl." Damien grunted, withdrawing his hand. "The fate of the Dominion is at stake. The King's Parliament is in an uproar. Half of the councilmen are crying out for independence, and obviously Minister Maxwell Drewyn supports them, after what we did to his house."

He never even gave me a name. Crispin's voice resounded in Annorae's head, referring to Maxwell Drewyn, his former master.

"If Sir Martom doesn't object, I'd welcome you, Damien."

"See that he doesn't."

-

At noon, Annorae and Aidan met Sir Martom Wylcey at the western city gate. He was already on his horse, a grey mare, his equipment strapped and ready. Annorae had seen Martom around court several times, and he was one of the many guests who had been invited to her new year's party. His brown hair was combed neatly, although the cold wind would soon mess it up again. He was a man who cared about details, it seemed, with a hawkish face and a tight expression.

"Madame Allsworth." he said stiffly, ignoring Aidan.

"A friend will be joining us." Annorae said, and before Martom had a chance to object, Damien Housstrum wheeled his horse from around a city street and galloped up to them, Ellie on his shoulder.

"Let's ride." Damien said.




Spring 2485.
April.
The Sanctum.

Annorae spent a long while in the Sanctum. Though the Wardens were very interested in her at first, they soon let her go about her own business, though she was still under guard. Meanwhile, news trickled back from Nalbin about political developments there. Ever since all the Wardens there had been murdered whilst investigating the noble houses, the political crisis had only kept getting worse. She got news about how Minister Drewyn was pressuring the King to speak out against the Dominion, but he did no such thing. The King was loyal to the Arbiter.

And like her father before her, Annorae performed her duties as Diplomat, sometimes receiving letters or messages from King Lamais, or her father, or other nobles and politicians. The whole time, she had Aidan and Martom to guard her, while Damien travelled around the Holy City conducting his own investigations into the Godslayers and cults allied with them.

At last in April, the day drew near where a whole plethora of new recruits would be raised to the status of Warden by the Arbiter. The evening before that day, the Justiciar Mzekhar, leader of the Wardens, knocked on Annorae's room.

"Sir, if you wished to speak with me you could have sent a servant! There was no need, although I am thankful-"

Mzekhar laughed, his Chakazian accent cutting the tension.
"Worry not, miss. Do not be alarmed. You are a guest of honour, and the news I have had to be delivered to you in person. The Arbiter wishes to speak with you."

"Me?"

She was lead into the giant Hall of Judgement, and then up a countless series of stairs, to the Arbiter's private sanctuary. Its gilded doors opened, revealing a dimly lit chamber with a single seat. Several bookcases were scattered throughout, and some tables with papers. It looked like the sort of study that any politician or leader might have, and thus it was surprising; maybe spirits were not so different after all? Or perhaps the Arbiter tried to keep himself on the level of his subjects.

He looked similar enough to a man, at least, although he was just a suit of armour, and his face a mask. The Arbiter sat on his chair, and the doors closed behind Annorae.

"Welcome, Misses Allsworth." he said, his voice carved of resonant steel.

Annorae had no idea how to react, but her instinct was to fall on her knees. She was caught halfway between a courtesy and kneeling when the Arbiter waved her efforts off.
"Worry not, Misses Allsworth. Please do not experience stress or pain in my presence. You are safe here."

A sense of well-being flooded Annorae.
"Thank you."

"You are not a Warden, and so you must not be hard in the same way they must be hard. I need you to be at peace now."

And so for a brief time, she felt at peace.
"What did you call me here for?"

"You have been in my home for months, observing us, watching our ways, watching our training, as your father did before you. You have carried the message of your King to me. I have a response for him. I have a response for the people of Nalbin, who feel so hurt and so betrayed, when all that I wish for them is peace." the Arbiter said.

"What do you have for them, Your Grace?" Annorae asked, slowly making her way towards the Arbiter.

"Your people only ever loved one spirit, one Archon. They loved the Paragon." the Arbiter said, folding his arms behind his back and inclining his head. "The Paragon chose to fight me, and fight Archanicus, during the civil war that started this Holy Dominion. She was the Traitor. But when the civil war came to an end, she was forgiven, and the Paragon returned to us. She brought Nalbin into the fold, but her disagreements threatened to tear the Dominion apart again, and for that, she was banished. Her knights never forgave me, and so the Godslayers plague us to this day. But perhaps there is a way..."

Annorae Allsworth clenched her fists - so what her father had suspected was true. The Paragon and the Traitor were one. Why had the Paragon chosen to fight the Dominion, only to make peace and then face banishment? The Arbiter mentioned she had left some part of her behind.

"What will I take to my people?"

"You will take the Paragon's only remaining child, who I have kept in the Sanctum ever since the dark days, since the civil war. Take her home, and let there be a new Paragon. Let there be peace. Let Nalbin know its place is with us, with the Dominion."

Annorae Allsworth let herself fall gently to her knees this time. The Arbiter walked to one of his bookshelves and opened a tome. It began to glow, and a branch of light erupted from the pages, manifesting in front of Annorae in a humanoid shape. The light solidified, leaving in its place a floating set of light armour and shield.

"The Paragon's heir. The Paragon always enjoyed dispensing swords to her people. Her heir shall be shield and armour." the Arbiter said, and Annorae wondered if it was coincidence that the Arbiter himself took the form of armour.

The Paragon's heir - it spoke, its voice like music in Annorae's mind.

He has set me free, and tasked you with taking me home. Will you bear me, Annorae Allsworth?