[Newhaven]

“Lady Rivers?”
Through the commotion Grim espied the most unlikely duo meandering the walkways of Newhaven Castle. A bloodied Crys had been gently taking to the walls, her hand outstretched to guide and balance her. She looked like she had arrived from a tavern debacle and appeared to have had quite the adventure somewhere.
Grim threw his arm up over his shoulder, the parade of aggressors hushed their rumblings at once. Still holding plenty of misgivings toward the walking contradiction. In all fairness the Blade had become weary of them as well, but his patience had proven to hold out. With any luck he could get rid of the protestors soon, they were starting to give him a headache.

Morrigan emerged from behind her blind compatriot waving her arms frantically as she did. Stumbling over her own feet as she attempted to approach her ally. Eventually crashing roughly on the floor and suffering another fit of laughter. Her giggles muffled into the stone as she slowly pulled herself from the ground.
“Why allo’ Grimsies!”
Morrigan would have swaggered right into his arms if she hadn’t slunk down and embraced his leg. Holding at his thigh like a little child, nestling comfortably. Grim looked down perplexed but reassured she was safe. Though to be honest the individual that needed help was the ex Alpha.

“Hello Morrigan, I see you’re up and running, how are you feeling?”

She clawed herself to her feet, looking up at the behemoth with her strange hazy stare. Her fingers prodding against his shoulders tapping almost rhythmically while she waited. It wasn’t long before a stream of madness spilled from her lips.
“Where, where were you!? Heavens I was looking all across Valcrest for you, big stupid jerk. You promised me dinner and a ride on the pony!”

Grim blinked a few times, slowly translating the barrage his ears just intercepted. With a sigh he pulled Morrigan from where she stood and lopped her over his right shoulder. She didn’t protest but instead looked back at the crowd that had been tailing the knight from the outset.

“None of you better be wearing pink!”

“… They gave you the good stuff didn’t they?”

Calmly he took in Crys’ presence once more. Drawing deeply, collecting his thoughts on her situation. She wasn’t looking very good, it was best he see her too the midwives’ careful hands. Besides, he was just about to return to the infirmary anyway, he had some words to exchange with Mageria.

He didn’t bother with anymore words, taking Crys’ cuff carefully. Masking the curiosity that he had about her condition. Though privately he had a few guesses, it was best he didn’t give it any words.

“Lady Rivers, if you’ll come with me I think I can get you nice visit with our healing staff. They’re not the White Rose, but they know a thing or two.”

Grim always preferred the winter. Typically among the ranks of Newhaven, spring and the summer were the preferred parts of the season. The warmth of the sun the surplus of food and physical comfort, the endless fields of grass and flowers all of it wonderful. Beautiful as it was, it was not for the Blade. The icy season was a time of renewal, when all the colors of the world were cast into a pure white. Snow that blanketed the past, offering its bittersweet embrace over old wounds. Wildlife slept and restored its strength, readying for a time when they would raise their young among the chaos of existence. Even the plant life stilled further if that was possible, daunted by nothing beneath their coverings. The world appeared to be at peace, and he liked that sense of calm.
Naturally he was alone. Though helping to keep the camp running when he could, Grim couldn’t deny the real danger of staying among them. Despite the opinions of Mageria and much of the Black Guard, the fact was that they couldn’t afford another accident like what transpired at Newhaven. They didn’t seem deterred by his presence, which did help Grim, perhaps opinions were being changed for the better.
Ultimately he camped beside himself outside of their lumber operation. Training when he could among the restricting snow, reaffirming his movement with nature’s resistance. Growing every day and eager to discover his limitations without liability. Aiding in whatever tasked required his hands, reassuring those willing to speak with him, and directing those who asked. Keeping especially careful eye on his compatriot, who was asked to stay within the encampment regardless of protest. Through Morrigan the Black Knight was kept abreast of news, not to mention she made an excellent messenger.
Today he had opted to rest, plenty of excitement had been had and he felt sure to fall into a coma if he didn’t take it easy. There was plenty to mull over, but in unusual twist, he found the scene too beautiful to fret himself with worry. What he was truly wishing for was a more definite enemy. Something he could work against with blade and vengeful wrath. Beset on all sides, the Black Knights were under attack by enemies he could not cut down. With any luck, he would get the chance to prove his valor in combat once more. Ultimately deciding that if he couldn’t cooperate for peace, he would have no other option but to make it with might and steel.
He was still debating on reinstating among the Black Knights and serving under Mageria again. There were many complications to what seemed like an obvious choice. As his own entity he had the freedom to act when his fellows could not. On the other hand Mageria couldn’t hope to protect him without his service being official. She was still a powerful voice to her people, and even with this set back, he had no doubt that Newhaven would be forced to reconsider their decision the moment trouble began brew. Newhaven was weak without her, and though Grim said nothing, all of this was likely the machinations of some masked threat. A foe unseen could only be lured out, and when the moment comes, the Raging Demon would show them the terror of the Moon Goddess.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Quietly she slipped beside him, joining with her back to the tree they were resting against. Peering out into the wondrous world beyond with idle apathy. She didn’t have to even attempt at guessing her ally’s brooding thoughts. Grim was surprisingly shallow for such an intricate Enlightened. Isolating himself to better hover on dark thoughts and wage war with his inner demons. To this day he refuses to believe his dirtied hands to be merely the work of circumstance or divine intervention. So saturated in his own mistrust it was surprising Grim functioned at all, and even more shocking that he’s determined to live out his days in service of those that cause him the most pain.
Morrigan guessed she could understand to a degree, no one could live completely alone. Maybe the only thing that kept her Warlord from leaping into an early grave, was the thought that someone, anyone, needed him for one more day.
She pulled her knees in tight. She liked the idea that anyone could walk the balance. It’s what made her infinitely greater. To be able to destroy, to love, to do as she pleased without consequence in a world that threatened her without remorse. The good, the bad, who cared as long as her belly was full and she was having fun! Sometimes she wished she could get him to see reality as she knew it. Perhaps then he’d be less concerned with the small indignities of people and their broken dreams.

“…. What’s it like?” She opened,
“ Hmmmm… I guess that depends on the nature of your question.”
“Getting your butt wet I mean. Sitting in the snow, what’s it like?”
“… Uncomfortable mostly.”

“Grim, you’ve pushed yourself to the breaking point. Please, let me help so that you can rest. Just tell me what your’re looking for and why.”
“I know you’re misgivings and feelings towards the Pack. Mageria this war has gone on long enough, and no one is taking measures to stop it. Please… would you help me?”
“What don’t I understand? What is it about me that you don’t understand? I’m a Black Knight. I have no past, I have no family, I have no reason to get up in the morning except knowing that one day I’m going to have the opportunity to lay down my life in defense of Newhaven. In battle, I’m the one on the front lines and it is always a surprise when I find myself alive afterwards.”
“For what it’s worth, I apologize. I want to see these things come to pass. I respect the Pack, but it’s becoming clear that it falls onto the people of Newhaven to set things right. I only hope we pass the test.”
“You’re ready to return home then? I’d be happy to travel with you. There’s a lot that’s happened and plenty to catch up on.”
“I’m not going back to Newhaven. I’m leaving this, all of it. The war, the Wolfpack, everything.”
“You’re a dangerous man, a threat to those who would be your ally.”
“No matter the cost.”
They were there, gathered en masse to the grand forests of his homeland. Their banners flown high, and their detest for the others higher still. Men and women marching forward to opposing factions, armies dressed for war that pushed from beyond the horizon. Newhaven and its sigil, Blackpond and their flags, even the Wolfpack, White Shadows, and Crimson Shadows had made an appearance. Splintered factions of course had joined the fray, and in the dense mass of organizations Grim had made out Salamander and Raven colors.
Each faction was in an uproar spewing words of hate for the other, calling out their respective enemies and spitting curses to the winds. Lightning flashed overhead a storm brewing in the skies. Glints of metal flashed and howls of battle echoed in the butchered lands of Valcrest.
Grim stood amidst them, panicked as he spun about on his heels. Everywhere he looked was chaos, faces that he had known to be so gentle twisted in the savage nature of war. On this day all humanity would perish beneath the indomitable violence.
“Stop this!”
Yet for his vibrato the words went unheeded, forward they charged, weapons upraised screams of murder lifted to the heavens as the mighty empires collided. Death knells and anguish, deep sadness sprung aloft ancient festering misgivings. The sins of the land too heavy as it rained down upon its children, casting them into the throes of their final gasping breath.
Grim born aloft this inevitable truth fought desperately to find a way out of the engagement. Yet he knew it was a worthless action, his worried thoughts wracking over the eventual reality that was to be his. The true origin of his bitterness, the curse, the gift, the Enlightenment instilled into his blood.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Morrigan woke with a start, her Warlord’s tension rousing her dreary mind from its nap. At first she peered confused and groggily at the Black Knight. He was cursing under his breath and gripping the snowy earth as if he was upon a rack. She quickly assured herself that a bad dream was nothing to be alarmed about and calmly went to rouse the knight from his terrors.
Her heart stopped cold when she caught illumination seeping from beneath his eyelids. Pulling a knife free from her boot she flipped herself over straddling the man and taking him firmly by the shoulders. Her eyes joining his in lighting up as an insurance against any possible outcomes, bemused some at her poor luck. Shaking the Salamander and calling out to him, not entirely sure what was going on, or if there was any real danger in the moment. Still the fear escalated when she couldn’t seem to rally him out of his strange state.
“Wake up damn you!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Grim-“ blood was spat from a full throat, “I won’t let you-“
The heavy foot of War planted itself upon her back crushing the remaining life out of her. The berserker armor was smashed and torn open, exposed flesh bleeding from many gashes. The aura of hate spilling fourth from its massive body and washing the dead with its fiery angst. Triumphant it reared back its head roaring out in foul glee.
Everything around it was destroyed, lives scattered before the nothingness, merely husks that decorated the mighty one’s work. Its rage boiling over till all in the land lay crumbled at its feet. The cries of fear and surprise, the gleeful devastation it had endured, all armed all ready to die today and so it was.
With no enemy left to face it, the magic ran its course and emptied from Grim. Leaving to wallow in the aftermath of his work, they had all been so brave. Exhausted he kneeled before those who were gone. Faces of friends and good people all surveyed in frozen dread, watching their killer with soulless glassed watchfulness. The Black Knights were torn asunder, the Wolves broken against the trees, neither had been able to contain the monstrosity for long. No poison worked, no blade seemed to cut deep enough. No Enlightenment had been a match for the champion of absolute abhorrence.
Grim gripped his hair, holding the swirling mix of sentiment that welled through him. Loss and despair, longing and bitterness, all whirling through his barely pulsing heart. Lady Rivers was lying almost peacefully beside her ally Ev, he tried to protect her and had paid the ultimate price. Jake had even managed to catch him unaware, but was crushed when War had been thrown from his feet. Set, Thomas, and Krander were chopped down in a single sweep. Hastings was beaten to a pulp against a trunk, and Chandos was ripped in halves cast unto the winds. Friends and foes, and yet not one could stop him, not one could have wished to endure the berserker’s might. All of them belonging to this mighty kingdom of rot and filth.
There were even faces Grim couldn’t place a name to. A beautiful blonde woman had expired reaching for a bow, not far from her a dark haired woman shrouded in a cloak. Both had bled out, large sections missing from their physiques the work of the Giant’s knife. Of course, Mageria had fought the longest, and died the hardest. Unwilling to give in, she had tried till at last her body could take no more. Grim pulled away unable to face his Captain where she perished.
Leaving his blade there to repose he began to venture away. There was nothing more to say or do. How could he have hoped for any other outcome? He was destruction incarnate, and there would be no peace for him. So long as he remained, so long as the gift was a part of him.“
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Morrigan nearly jumped out of her skin when Grim took her by the arm. The sudden movement had been far from expected. Her efforts up to that point had been wasted and more or less useless.
“Is something the matter?”
Morrigan sighed and hopped up from where she was. Sheathing her blade and readjusting her boot a little. More annoyed at Grim’s simple reaction then her initial concerns; she began to make her way to the camp. Grumbling quietly all the way.

Nothing entered or left the Raven’s Nest without Grim’s knowledge. Though he said nothing of the figures that walked in and out, he was sure to keep his opinion open to context. Merely taking note of late night visitors and being mindful of those that slip away. One couldn’t be too careful these days even if Mageria trusted them; Grim couldn’t count anyone whom he hasn’t personally inspected as earnest. Not that he was a great judge of character, but without someone looking out they couldn’t hope to be prepared. Even here in the Nest, they were subject to infiltration and exposed even more in the wilderness. There would be no walls to stand between them and an enemy, if somebody wanted Mageria dead, this was the place to do it. Of course, they’d have to get through Grim first.
His visits throughout the week had been less frequent, it seemed as the ensemble had pulled itself together, the settlers had started becoming accustomed to the harsher conditions. None had dared visit the Raging Demon save for his informant. She had often spent days among the Guard and listened to the heartbeat of their encampment, whispering of its moods and feelings into the Blade’s ears. Keeping him aware of situation that he may better serve his role as watchman.
Today the Salamander had opted to clean up and rework his armor a bit. One of the few instances when a Black Knight would wander the world without their obsidian plates about their frame. Leaving them to the care of the locals he returned out to his tiny camp to find Morrigan had been out all morning. Not that Grim was concerned, she had a tendency to go and do as she pleased, but he couldn’t help curiosity. With the Giant’s Knife resting on his back he ventured around the Raven’s Nest, knowing she wasn’t ever truly far.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“Tres tres bien mon chere. Zis fortress iz perfect!”
“Isn’t it? Isn’t it!”
“Oui! Ze best!”
“Aww, c’mon I couldn’t have done it without you guys.”
Morrigan wrapped her arms around two crudely made snow-people. Giddy about her rudimentary snow wall. Pulling away from her crafted companions she bowed before them. Extending her hands to show off her construction and present their work as a completed project.
“Gentlemen and ladies, we have finished fortress Kren. Now we begin to build the Kren army! Who’s with me?”
Given brief pause Morrigan cupped a hand over her mouth whispering cheers and words of encouragement to herself. Then she paused, a frown tucking itself upon her lips. Her golden eyes settling on a snowman she had fitted with a dingy scarf rescued from the Raven’s Nest. Stepping down from the imagined platform she pushed passed her crowd of frozen faces. Approaching one of her creations with a sort of anger just hiding beneath her face.
“You don’t think we could do it do you?” a finger prodded the snowman, boring into its icy body.
“No I see you now, talkin’ like you know everything. Telling the workers lies, filling them with these crazy ideas. I won’t have mutiny here mister!”
Morrigan’s disappointment began to alter, metamorphosing into a smile that could cut courage from men of valor. She gently approached the pile of frozen mush. Wrapping it within her embrace, gently pushing her lips to its cheek watching the imitated bit of life with an intensity reserved for the living.
“You couldn’t handle it anyway love.”
With her weight against the snowman it collapsed and she on top of it laughing hysterically. The troublesome art now but a heap of cold on the ground, no longer would it pose any threat to those composed of flesh and blood. She pulled herself up brushing off snow from her clothes as she returned to her post. Looking out over her made-up people opening her mouth to speak when she was rudely interrupted by an onlooker.
“A public execution, wouldn’t it have been far more appropriate to imprison the troublemaker?”
The Blade had found her, playing some unusual game by herself. Not entirely surprised, but on the same hand he remained somewhat uncertain of Morrigan’s habits. It seemed the only thing that kept their friendship from hostilities was her unusual nature and pledge to do as the Warlord said. If anything her little game proved that she hadn’t become any less hostile then when he had first met her some years ago.
“Mercy is for those that like pink.”
She giggled and walked up to Grim expectant as ever and as eager to see what task he had for her today. Her hands helping themselves to pad at his exposed arms. It was a rare occasion to see Grim not trudging about behind layers of metal. He pulled his hand back rubbing them together to warm it.
“You’ve been playing around out here too long, your touch is ice. Perhaps you should sit by a fire for a bit before you damage yourself out here.”
“Oh? You mean like this?”
Grim half yelped when he felt frozen fingers touch his face, and he took off running back toward his base of operations. Behind a gleeful madwoman was pursuing hands outstretched like claws.