Before the Battle

Following the summons, Yew headed to her usual guildhall for the briefing and subsequent emergency transfer. It was a bit of a walk from the college, so she arrived midway through. Only the available people of middling strength or higher were gathered in the side room, but all experience levels milled about the regular guild areas and were free to listen to the meeting since it wasn’t being held in the master’s office. When she pushed through the excessively large, in her opinion, door, silence washed over everyone present in a wave. She was busy thinking about the death knight and so did not notice the eyes that followed her or the whispers about sighting the Ghost Shepherdess. The heat in the hall was blistering from the hearth and general stuffiness of its design; poor air circulation, Astilbe had tried to explain it to her once. She pushed the hood back from her head; dusky brown hair in full view, a color that could easily be mistaken for gray.

She walked into the side room without stopping or excusing herself, simply setting her hook against the wall inside the door and taking the nearest open seat. Unobtrusive entry or no, those in the room with her grew more serious after noticing her. If Yew, the Ghost Shepherdess herself, had been intentionally called out for this that meant it was more dire than usual. Normally she would just show up on site as she pleased, seemingly manifesting from the air itself with the jingle of her bells, exorcising whatever undead had appeared, and vanishing just as suddenly. Some were half convinced she was a spirit herself, never having the chance to do more than bear witness to her actions. Yet here she was, sitting normally at a table; she had even abided the guild etiquette of leaving her weapon, if the plain wooden hook could be called such, out of reach during friendly meetings.

The vice guild-master proceeded without pause at her arrival, always the professional. He was as orderly as ever, neatly pressed uniform, meticulously combed dark brown hair, and mysteriously white gloves. Yew was still trying to figure out how he kept them like that without magic, fascinating. She almost missed the part where he informed them of the death knight’s suspected identity; however, it didn’t make much difference to her. What she had to do was the same no matter who the undead was before. Still, she filed the name away for later in case she needed it. Sometimes death knights had a decent grasp of who they were when they were alive, unlike the more common corporeal undead.

Knowing her name wouldn’t change anything, really, but Yew imagined the ones that remember felt more mollified when she acknowledged their living identities.

The knight was spotted by a traveler that managed to hide before being spotted as she thundered by on an equally undead horse. She was heading their direction, so they wouldn’t need to be teleported too far. Unfortunately they were the closest guildhall and there were several settlements between where the undead was spotted and where they hoped to catch her. It was anyone’s guess if she would attack along the way to raise more undead into a personal army or not. Death knights were a bit unpredictable, as heavily influenced by their memories as they could be, each was unique. No set attacks or abilities, only a whispered promise of strength and the potential for malevolence. A dangerous mid-tier monster, all prior good and merits forgotten.

Briefing over, Yew collected her staff and moved to the waiting transport spot for outgoing travelers. The harried mages there looked like they hadn’t slept much recently; she didn’t envy their role at all, fighting undead creatures was way easier. She patted herself on the back for her wisdom in choosing her part time job well. A few others lined up beside her, some fidgeting and other’s psyching themselves up. One particularly loud man was boasting that he and his big sword would take the death knight down so fast that no one else would need to participate. Clearly, this was his first time subjugating an intelligent undead. They were never easy, for others at least.

Yew found them difficult for another reason.

Death knights could be so very human. And sometimes, they knew what she was.

***

If one were to ask Yew at which point she began to suspect that this day wouldn’t end well for her, she would have liked to say from the first moment they arrived at the natural choke point in the path and thunder promptly bellowed across the sky before it opened and dropped a month’s worth of rain. It isn’t often that the weather accurately predicts the development of things, but even a cloud can be right once or twice. Rocks and boulders jutted up through the ground leaving a long line of uneven terrain that would prove nigh impassible to all but the most agile creatures. Only the painstakingly cleared path was a viable route through this section of the land, more so if one was on horseback. An undead horse is no more immune to broken legs and torn ligaments than a living one, although the undead horse would eventually recover if you left it alone long enough.

Yew stood just off the road, examining a larger chunk of stone that was partially carved into a face; it was the weather-worn brow and most of an eye of what used to be a giant statue. If one were to gather all the chunks in the area, they would find themselves inside a temple of sorts. She vaguely recalled that this eye piece belonged to one of the several stone guardians that lie broken and scattered around; it now served as a mile-marker for those that frequently traveled from Oakwood, where her college is, and its nearest town to the south.

It was a good place for an ambush, plenty of hiding spots.

She picked her way carefully through the rain-slick stones, finding a slanted chunk to shelter under. It could be a while before the death knight appears. The overcast of the sky made it easy to forget that it would be night soon. Yew frowned slightly at the realization that regardless of if the knight raised an army they would likely have to deal with a few stray ghosts as well. The water in the air would agitate them, and the lightning would draw them in, so their electric incorporeal forms would be more annoying than usual. Amped up and irritated was not Yew’s preferred ghost temperament.

She pulled a handful of long copper nails from a pouch at the small of her back. May as well be kind to her future self and set up a mild electromagnetic perimeter. The flat nailheads were already delicately inscribed with the barrier spell, she just needed to place them down and activate it. Using a random rock, she went around and hammered them into a few random spots in a loose circle surrounding their chosen area. She received the occasional glance from her fellows, but none of them questioned what she was up to. Mistakenly, Yew believed it was because it was obvious she was creating a barrier; in reality, the group members either trusted her reputation or simply didn’t care what she was up to. She had forgotten that token-barriers like she was setting up had been out of common practice for centuries.

It served its purpose either way, even if the others didn’t realize how much trouble Yew had saved them. Those that were experienced enough to anticipate ghosts simply thought they had gotten lucky, and the inexperienced were none the wiser. In fact, in the events that would follow, Yew would forget to recollect her barrier until much later. The unexpected consequences of doing so would create positive and negative ripples in her future, but that’s a story for another time.