Four Evil Generals (Said no one ever)

The white castle walls of Forness Heart’s royal palace didn’t inspire awe in Harow anymore, not in the same way he had been when he had first arrived with a message from the Great Spirits.

Five years on, after futile attempts to acclimate himself to his supposed reward of life alongside the elite sent him packing back home, here he was again, at the behest of the king’s summons, rather than any greater power’s beckoning.

Maer’s warm hand wrapped itself around his, and he turned to look at her with a slight smile. At the very least, the trip wasn’t lonely – the sumptuous carriage that had taken him from the city nearest his village along the major roads back to the capital had been a treat, and it made him happy that at least the food inside had been to his wife’s satisfaction.

Nonetheless, that royally appointed transport eventually made its way to the inner courtyard, and once more, Harow was at the disposal of Forness.

Side by side with his wife, he was guided by a servant to one of the more guarded meeting rooms in the castle, a distance from the throne room most associated with the king.

As Harow and Maer entered, they came face to face with an older man with a tired face, whose expensive clothes didn’t seem like much of a reward for the life he lived.

“Beacon, thank you for lending me your arm once more,” Rulio II sighed with relief as he came over to shake Harow’s hand. It was that sort of courtesy that made it hard to dislike his past.

“It wouldn’t be right to ignore you, given how grave your letter sounded. You wouldn’t call me for something trivial.”

Rulio nodded before waving an arm to two other men in the room. “This is General Dorsen, and my son, Rulio III.”

Dorsen was the very picture of a frontline commander, covered with scars, though even despite his best efforts to fight age and deskwork, he could not hide the weight gained through long years. The younger Rulio, he recalled being a child years ago, so it was a surprise to see a young man of fifteen years in his place, covered in bandages and sitting with the posture of a soldier unhappily healing. He had a story to tell, that was for sure.

In turn, Harow introduced Maer. “My wife, a priestess from my village.”

“Please don’t try to downplay things on account of my “feelings”, sirs,” she bluntly stated. “I’m here to help Harow.”

Dorsen seemed divided on the suggestion, but a quick nod from his king made him relent. “Let us be expeditious, then. We’ve been getting reports about powerful Malevolence-tainted creatures being active across the kingdoms, but their actions don’t make sense.”

“In what sense?” Harow asked, while the group started sitting down, ready for a long discussion.

“They’re too…human,” the old soldier mused, eyes alight with curious thoughts, “and not at all mindlessly bloodthirsty.”

“The reports consistently mention three of them, and my son has discovered another that matches their general profile,” the king added.

Harow looked over at Rulio III’s glum expression and wondered if the monster was responsible for his injuries. Was this something he should feel responsible for avenging? Or perhaps this was his Highness’s motive for calling him?

Nevertheless, his renown and his title, old as it was – undeserved as he felt it to be – bade him answer, and so the Beacon of the Kingdoms spoke.

“How are they too human? What do we know of them so far?”

“To the north of our territory, at the fringes, there have been stories of a necromancer knight. Belzac’s University, meanwhile, has been on the hunt for an Archhag. But neither of them has been attacking the people there. If anything, the opposite has been happening.”

“You mean, they’re helping?” Maer said, with a slight hint of confusion.

Dorsen rolled his shoulders, a ponderous mountain shifting beneath his raiment. “At least that’s the impression we’ve been getting. The Archhag first came onto the scene attacking someone who had been dealing with corrupted items, and seems to have been searching for them, while leaving the material for the University staff to confiscate. While the professors have been searching for her, their interactions have been a harmless chase thus far, even though the Archhag’s powers have been displayed.”

“The necromancer seems to be trying to turn into a ruler, however,” Rulio gravely warned. “He’s also been hunting corrupted artefacts and striking out at brigands. The towns there have started aligning with him, accepting his protection. Idoy, too, apparently has been crowing about employing a corrupted warrior with no repercussions."

There was an uneasy silence as the party tried to make sense of these actions, while only having worst-case scenarios in mind.

“What do you think they’re up to?” Maer decided to question, cutting straight to the heart of the matter.

“We don’t know,” Rulio admitted. “It flies in the face of everything we know about the Menace’s horde. Even sycophants during the war invariably lost their common sense and turned to sadism and hedonism.”

“The Archhag playing games sounds like the latter,” Harow countered, though he knew it wasn’t a matter of scale – it was called Malevolence, not Mild Frustration. Was it a prelude, or simply a lack of ability to hurt others?

“There’s also the matter of her and the necromancer apparently choosing to attack other sources of Malevolence,” Rulio pondered. “From here, all I can assume is a political plot to undermine trust in the Kingdoms – but those are actions by humans, not creatures spawned from the Menace.”

“Has the temple had any advice from the Spirits?” Maer asked. She had her own suspicions, given the dreams she had, but dreams were hardly a solid avenue of advice.

“The Spirits have been acting strangely coy, according to the priests.” Rulio’s fresh admission only drew another perturbed glance from Harow. “That the Spirits aren’t in a panic is why I’m not panicked either. Worried, perhaps, but it seems the situation will not be a catastrophe.”

“...What is it that you want me to do with these beings?” Harow asked, uncertainly.

“You’ve seen the worst the Menace had to offer, and you’re strong enough to defend yourself from them. If you’re willing, I’ll make arrangements so you can travel from here to Belzac and to the north, to meet with them and perhaps learn their motives. I hope… that at the very least, we are not finding enemies in disguise.”

Harow thumbed his lips, which were pursed in thought. He had been ready to handle a sizable task, but it was only till now that he was being requested to meet… well, a group of such magnitude. This was no casual task. How long would he be away? And their home…

“Maer? What say you?”

The priestess, too, seemed deep in quiet rumination, eyes pressed closed, before nodding to herself, her face a mask of grim resolve.

“I’ll go with you if you go. But do you feel obligated?”

It was hard to turn down a request by a king, but Harow, to a degree, had been able to pry himself loose of Forness, enough to settle down elsewhere… nonetheless…

“If His Highness thinks I’m the one best suited for it, then I should see if I can help. I’m still the Beacon of the Kingdoms,” he said, something which brought an appreciative smile to Rulio’s face.

“I asked you to go to the north, and to Belzac because, well, the swordsman from Idoy is due to arrive soon. He’s agreed to help with the last quarter of our problem.”

“The fourth monster, you mean,” Harow concluded, which was when the princes nodded.

“I’ve actually met the fourth, a syhee who’s been living under Forness Heart. She actually saved my life.”

The king sighed at Harow’s shocked expression. “I’m as confused as you are, but apparently she’s been hunting for some manner of corrupted beast that killed several Spirit Knights. Yet again, something that benefits us, but may simply be a charade for her sake.”

“So I’ll be starting here, then?” Harow asked.

“Talk to my son about what happened, and meet the Idoy swordsman, before looking for this underground dweller. That’ll be half the work done, in the center of our Kingdom. If anything goes wrong, at least you’ll be in the safest place to be.”

Four mysteries across the land. Strangely, even though he thought he had hung up his sword years ago, it felt right to Harow that he would be the one to tackle it. A new threat in a time of tentative peace – was it perhaps a promise of another adventure?

The question was how it would end. At the very least, there would be no friends dying on his account yet again.