Umbra Gearfield

I laid in the tall grass at the crest of the lightly forested knoll, Rill at one side and Julius to the other, each of us doing our best to stay hidden as we watched the flurry of activity in the valley below. According to Sarrah, today was the day that Umbra would meet with Marik, and we had come to observe.

Hundreds of bandits milled about, encircling cookfires while they chatted, erecting tents or laying out bedrolls upon the hard ground while watchful patrols made their rounds. For a group of brigand rabble, it was surprisingly well-organized, likely a result of Marik’s guidance. In the center of the area stood a large canvas pavilion, where I assumed the meeting would take place.

Three days had passed since we had all convened, days spent wracking our brains and trying to come up with some sort of plan of attack, when the time came. The others seemed every bit as trepidatious as I was, but together, we pressed onward. Everything hinged on what happened today, and whether or not we were able to convince this Umbra woman to help us. But, I had my doubts. Apparently, she was an extremely zealous dragonslayer, as I should have expected from the head of their group, who had made her hatred of my kind abundantly clear. Our only hope was that she would recognize the danger Marik posed, and be willing to make a one-time exception.

Sudden movement in the bandit camp caught my eye. A large, throne-like chair was being erected beneath the pavilion, and moments later the hulking form of Marik appeared, standing head and shoulders above anyone else. He still wore the same attire as the time I had encountered him, but this time, one of his eyes was a milky white, and he had a massive battleaxe strapped to his back, a weapon nearly as tall as the man himself. I swallowed hard at the sight, remembering how fearsome he had been even when unarmed.

Following my gaze, Julius remarked, “I hear he’s taken to calling that axe of his Dragonsplitter. I’m sure I don’t need to explain why.”

I nodded grimly. Even at this distance, I could sense the feeling of dread emanating from the man’s incredible aura. “His looks alone are intimidating enough. I can’t imagine what sort of destruction he might be able to unleash with that thing.”

As Marik took his seat, two familiar figures appeared nearby, those of the bandit leaders we had encountered before, Nervin and Tirel. Rill gasped beside me, muttering, “I had a feeling he was still alive, even after that bashing Reigen gave him!” She was referencing Nervin, who had disappeared after the battle in Lakeside.

It was not too much longer before a commotion at the western side of the camp drew my attention, and I watched as the crowds of men stood back to form a path that led directly to the pavilion where Marik now lounged in his massive throne, his chin resting boredly upon a fist. Moments later, I spotted two figures approaching, a woman wearing functional plate armor, followed by a man in matching chainmail.

I squinted, my sharp eyes bringing the duo into focus. That must be Umbra, I mused, observing the woman. She appeared to be somewhere in her mid-fifties, her pepper gray hair tinged with the slightest hint of its former red hue and pulled back into a tidy bun. She stood tall and gave off a domineering visage with her square face held high, dark green eyes sparkling in the sunlight as they stared straight ahead, not an ounce of worry or hesitation apparent anywhere in her demeanor. Her raiment was similar in style to what I recalled from the dragonslayer, Alicia, who was apparently her niece; a white battle gown worn as an underlayer, split below the waist to allow for ease of movement. Strapped overtop was heavy plate mail, painted in black and trimmed with gold. It had an elegant appearance, but the various dents and chips gave no doubt that it had seen plenty of hard-fought battles. At her side hung a sheathed broadsword, and her off-hand carried a tall, metal-plated tower shield that matched her armor.

The man who followed in her wake was a bit of a different story. He had brown hair and a thin face, clean-shaven, with sharp brown eyes that betrayed his nerves as they darted around the camp. He wore lighter chainmail beneath a tabard that matched Umbra’s armor, and had a longsword strapped at his waist. However, what drew my eye was the bizarre staff that he carried, a thick wooden branch as tall as he was that twisted like a coiled serpent towards the top. Visible through the gaps in those coils were glittering gemstones in all manner of colors, and set into the top was a faceted piece of clear crystal. The artifact gave off a strange, unsettling sensation that I could not quite place. Somehow, it felt wrong.

Together they stepped beneath the pavilion and stopped before Marik’s throne. The tension in the air was palpable as the two stared each other down, each of them trying to get a read upon the other. At length, Marik spoke, his voice as deep and imposing as ever.

“So, you actually showed up after all.”

The woman did not avert her gaze, or otherwise react in any visible way, but the fellow at her back recoiled at Marik’s voice, at the power held within it. Beside me, Julius murmured, “Drat, we’re too far away. Can you make out what they’re saying?”

I nodded, and to my surprise, Rill mimicked my motion. “You can hear them at this distance?” I asked, shocked.

“Barely, but yeah. I’ve actually been noticing that my senses have been heightened lately. I guess you ended up sharing a bit more with me than just your strength.”

I had no time to make any more remarks as the conversation below continued, and I quietly relayed what was said to Julius as Umbra replied, in a sturdy voice that easily carried across the otherwise silent ranks, “Indeed. I am Umbra Gearfield, current matriarch of the Gearfield Family and master of the Dragonslayer Corps. And this is my Staff-Bearer, Danis Sherrington. I suppose you can only be the infamous Bandit King, the one named Marik, is that right?”

Marik grinned, definitely not a friendly gesture in the least, and affirmed, “Yeah, that’s me. And I’m afraid I’ve never been one to entertain courtesies. So now that introductions are out of the way, how about you tell me why you wanted to meet with me so badly? I have places to be, you know.”

Umbra blinked, obviously taken aback by his blunt words, which bordered on the brink of being outright rude. However, she showed no outward sign of insult; rather, she chuckled, “I couldn’t agree more. I was sent here by the king of Eastelias, Johel, to discuss some matters of trade disputes and travel restrictions across your territory. However, I personally have no interest in such things. Instead, why don’t we talk about a certain rumor I heard on my way here. Is it true that you recently encountered a dragon?”

Marik’s red eyes glittered as he perked up slightly. “Aye, it’s true. And an entertaining little scrap it was, too, if short-lived. I have to admit, I’d always thought that dragons were supposed to be at the top of the food chain, but after that, I’ve started to wonder if that’s really the case. He was disappointingly weak, so I let him go. After I see to some matters up north, I plan to have some fun hunting him.”

I shivered at the man’s words, and Umbra frowned, unperturbed. “Dragons come in all shapes and sizes, strengths and temperaments. But one and all, they are creatures of destruction and betrayal. They are not to be toyed with. You’ll tell me where you fought this dragon, and in which direction it fled. And I will slay it myself.”

“Oh? Are you making a demand of me?” Marik said confrontationally, arching the eyebrow of his only remaining eye and leaning forward in his seat. His aura surged in a wave that spread out across the encampment, causing the crowds to falter and give the group an even wider berth. The man named Danis also went wide-eyed and took a half step backwards, along with the two other bandit leaders, who hopped back into the crowds. They knew what was coming, and wanted to be nowhere near it.

Patting the haft of his battleaxe, leaning against the side of his throne, he told her, “Sorry to break it to you, but he’s my prey. If you want him, you’ll have to take it up with dragonsplitter, here.”

The only one who did not back down from his aura was Umbra herself, who instead sneered in the face of his challenge. Then, her own aura flooded outwards, the two invisible forces battling each other for supremacy, warping the air around them. I felt a bead of sweat roll down my face as I admired the exchange, and thought, There’s no way. She’s…she’s not someone I should be anywhere near! Not even in the same country! These two aren’t human, they can’t be!

They’re monsters, Rill agreed with an audible gulp. I might not be able to sense their auras myself, but I can feel it through my bond with you. Even looking at them is enough to tell that they’re both dangerous.

Umbra calmly laid a hand upon the pommel of her sword, and said, in an amused tone, “And here I thought today would be boring. But if it’s a fight you want, then that’s fine by me. Let’s get this over with.”

Marik laughed deeply, grabbing his axe and standing up from his throne, effortlessly kicking the metal framed chair backwards into the crowd behind him. It crashed and bounced where it hit, sending the men gathered there hurriedly diving out of its path. On the hillside, the three of us watched in stunned silence at what was happening, at what we were about to witness.

Surely a fight like this would be one that none of us would want to miss.