Emrick sat up straight taking his feet of the table and leaning forward a serious look on his face as he looked at both the wolfkin boys. "Are you sure he said the blight." The tone of Emrick's voice all but told them how serious a question this was. Both boys nodded to confirm.
"Yes, me and Tharon were infected as my grandfather said over two weeks ago when we took down a wyvern, at the time we did not know what the blight was or that such a thing existed." Zarath retold the tale of their encounter with the wyvern, and how they journeyed to Vaerthruin and bathed in the sacred waters of the Vrak'Thura how Lyra joined them after he took the oath of a Raxvashk. He also told him of their encounters with the blighted elves and the armored figures that attacked them. Emrick sat and listened to the boy taking in all the information.
"Well bathing in the lake explains why you haven't turned yet or died, you boys are skilled fighters from the sounds of it, but even still not many can go toe to toe with a group of Blight Born and survive." Emrick looked at Lyra, knowing she wasn't infected would make things harder. He looked at both boys with a grim face.
"There is no cure for the blight, over the years we Wardens have learned once you are infected eventually the curse will clam you for some people it takes years, but the wardens have a way of stopping the curse from claiming your life. But either way those creatures you have been fighting will always be able to find you if they are close by. Emrick explained as he saw a flicker of rage boiling in Zarath's eyes and sorrow in Tharon's.
"So, you're saying that regardless those things will keep hunting us." Zarath bared his fangs and the hackles on his neck started to rise.
"Yes and no, blighted creatures are drawn to one another they can sense each other much of history over the last seven hundred years since the blight first appeared has been lost, but we know how the Blight Born work, for one Blight Born don't die of natural cause they have to be killed, second the longer a Blight born lives the more intelligent they become, going from raving animals to almost to well our level of intelligence. And third when there is a large enough number of them, they swarm the land like insects and try to kill or turn as much as they can into corrupted beings." Emrick went into a full-on history lesson about how the Wardens first came to be what it was they did eventually getting to his point.
"So, you have two options here, join the Wardens and help us fight the blight, and live without fear of the Blight Born, or return home but knowing you will always be at risk and the people around you as well." Zarath and Tharon looked at each other trying to decide what would be the best option here, they would have to give up their dream of being great Krellar's for their tribe but becoming Wardens didn't mean they wouldn't be able to go back home, they would still be the heroes they dreamed about but for a different cause then their people. And then they looked at Lyra who had no reason to make this decision, she after all wasn't infected.
"Umm so does the blight spread if your cut by one of their blades as well?" Lyra sheepishly asked, rubbing at her still bandaged arm. Zarath quickly remembered that she was cut in their last fight. "Yes, what she said can you get infected from one of their weapons." His voice was almost frantic as he asked the question right behind her. Emrick rubbing his chin.
"There have been a few cases but usual it's still due to that person coming into contact with blighted blood, I've been a warden for twenty years and I've seen plenty of people be cut by their blades or claws and nothing happened." Emrick tapped a finger on his chin, not a hundred percent sure if Lyra could be infected or not. "How about we head back to the town hall me and the other Wardens have been using it as a head quarter to run our operations out here in this wilderness." Emrick stood up not giving the group much choice but to follow him.
Unlike this morning the town of Frontier seemed almost dead at night a low fog hanging over the cobbled and dirt streets a few guards' men walking about with torches and spears. As the group made their way to the center of town. Emrick whistled to himself as they walked.
"You three are probably thinking, how can a town look so new and old at the same time, it's true Frontier was once a much larger city but it fell during the last blight over eight years ago, The King of Eldoria reclaimed these lands and only started rebuilding I'd say in the last five years but not many people wish to move to lands once consumed by the blight which is why me and a few other Wardens are here as a security measure since there is an entrance to the underground highways in the mountains to the south of town more people began to move here after we got here." Emrick explained that besides himself there was a total of twenty fully trained veteran Wardens here, one a High Keeper and the commanding officer who held the rank of Wing Commander because she was one of a few hundred Wardens bounded to a Griffon.
"If you three end up joining us you will join a group of three other recruits that had already joined at different times, some by choice and one not so much." Emrick didn't give any more details than that as they approached the town hall, instead of going through the main door they sidestepped going towards the offset building attached to the town hall.
Once inside the offset building, the group was immediately greeted by the organized chaos typical of a militarized organization. The room was alive with activity, the clinking sounds of metal resonated as a few Wardens polished their swords with disciplined precision. Crates and boxes were being stacked meticulously by others, each movement calculated and purposeful. In the far corner, three high-ranking Wardens stood around a large table, their eyes focused intently on a detailed map spread out before them. They exchanged quiet, urgent words, tracing paths and marking points with swift, practiced hands. Emrick gestured for the group to follow him, navigating through the bustling room with ease.
As they moved deeper into the building, they passed several other Wardens, some were engaged in drills, while others received instruction from seasoned veterans. The air was thick with the scent of oil and metal, mingling with the faint aroma of herbs and leather. Emrick led them to a quieter section of the room, partitioned off by heavy curtains. Inside was a makeshift barracks with a few bunk beds and a small table, three other people were busy tending to equipment but their armor and weapons weren't like the other Wardens so the group assumed these must be the three other recruits.
"You will be staying here for the time go and introduce yourselves to your new squad mates, Lyra I will be back with the Keeper so we can discuss what to do going forward with you." Emrick gave her a small smile and walked off.
As Zarath, Tharon, Lyra and Hura entered into the room, Hura quickly rushed over to a small form curled up in a ball, barking and bouncing around the small ball popped up letting out a mix of a hawk's screech and a lion's roar, it was a young griffon. Zarath quickly rushed over as did a boy around his age. Zarath grabbing Hura's collar and the young man gently pushing back on the griffin's chest. "Sorry it's the first time she has seen a griffon." Zarath offered his free hand for the other boy to shake.
"It's quite alright Storm wing is a very playful griffon so I'm sure she meant no harm." As the young man turned to shake Zarath's hand, Zarath quickly noticed the light brown skin and dark flowing hair, the boy, had greenish eyes but again it was the slightly pointed ears that caught his attention. "I am Alaric Thorne of house Thorne and before you ask yes, I am a half-elf my mother is human and my father is a wood elf both of them are Wardens stationed in my homeland of Sylvandor, I am here to train under Wing Commander Warden Thalia the commander of this garrison." Alaric grabbed Zarath's hand in a solid but gentle handshake. "You three are Wolfkin right I've seen a few of your people but never actual meet any." Alaric seemed genuinely curious.
"Ugh who let these grassland dogs in." The response came from a silver and black stripped Felinar one of the desert cat people that lived one the far west side of the continent past the Thrumdar mountains, Zarath went wide eye as he took in her appearance, her fur was groomed like her life depended on it, her clothing was just as exotic as her, she wore a top that only covered her chest leaving her arms, stomach and lower back exposed, a red see through sarong draped over her hips covering the tight fit leather pants almost like skinny jeans, her feline feet exposed, though what caught people's eyes was the golden paint on her silver and black furred body, her stomach decorated with a large golden sun and her eyes painted like Egyptian royalty, it was common knowledge that the Felinar were a race ruled by a matriarchy and every one often flaunted their bodies, to take pride in oneself or so they say.
"Don't mind the princess over there, she is just upset that she has to start wearing human armor since the blacksmith can't make her any of that fancy gold stuff her people wear." A short and stocky pale skined woman spoke her voice thick but with no accent like Mrs. Amberbranch the dwarf the group met earlier.
"Names Dagna Stoneheart pleasure to meet yea." She slapped Zarath on the lower back as she couldn't reach any higher before going off to meet Tharon. "Well, you're a big lad aren't yea, want to help me raid the kitchen I could use a wee snack." Dagna laughed as her and Tharon headed off out of the room, her bright red hair bouncing on her shoulders as she did.
"I'm Zarath, this is Lyra, and this troublemaker is Hura my bounded Barkkron." Zarath gently pulled on Hura's collar making her sit as she still wanted to play with Storm Wing the griffon. Lyra moved over to The Felinar who called her and her friends grassland dogs. "Your fur is so beautiful, and I love the body paint." Lyra smiled as she sat down next to the other girl.
"Ok I like her she can at least understand proper grooming, my name is Sha'lara, and I am the fourteenth Raka'Thura (Princess) born to the current Marasha (Desert Queen)." Sha'lara seemed so proud to say hey I'm royalty that has no chance at the throne. "Your name was Lyra right I have some extra body paint that would look amazing on that reddish fur of yours." And with that both girls headed off towards the bunks leaving Zarath and Alaric alone, both boys rolling their eyes at their friends as they let their bounded companions run off and play.
"Well, those four seemed to hit it off quickly." Alaric moved back over to the table picking up his sword and a white cloth and began to clean the blade. "And before you ask yes Sha'lara is royalty, but like she said she is the fourteenth princess so her chance at the throne is not in her future, so she was sent here to join the Wardens."
"Well, that explains the attitude a little bit, But I'm sure her and Lyra will bound over body paint or whatever." Zarath sat down at the table. "Judging by her outfit I figured she was important."
"Yeah, not as important as you think, tell me what do you know about Felinar culture Zarath?" Alaric asked him curiously.
"Not a lot, I just know that my people and hers don't necessarily get along with each other that well." Zarath looked over his shoulder at Sha'lara and Lyra who were out of ear shot of the conversation he could tell Sha'lara was enjoying showing off her body paints to Lyra.
"Well everyone knows that Felinar are ruled by their women, the queen of every pride so to speak, that is if you are next in line, Sha'lara's father is the current queens fifth husband and a gladiator at that so Sha'lara has no chance to claim the throne even if she wanted to, unlike humans elves and dwarfs similar to you wolfkin Felinar can have up to three kids in one pregnancy right." Alaric continued to explain as he cleaned his sword with the white cloth, though Zarath knew it was common for Wolfkin to have anywhere between one to three kids at one time it didn't always happen that way.
"The truth is Sha'lara hates it here, but she hates it back home even more, if you guys stick around long enough you will hear the whole story same as me and Dagna have." Alaric placed his now polished sword down onto the table he and Zarath sat at. "So, tell me, what is it your skilled at?"
"What do you mean skilled at?" Zarath was generally confused by the question. He looked at Alaric, his ears twitching atop his head.
"Your fighting skills and style, take Sha'lara for example she uses a short spear and has twin swords, but she is also skilled with a bow, Dagna she uses her war hammer and a hatchet, and I am the groups mender." Alaric tried to hold in a laugh watching his Wolfkin's friend's ear twitching.
"Oh, you meant that, well I am skilled with a bow and sword and recently I became a Raxvashk." Zarath quickly noticed what Alaric was looking at and gave his half-elf friend a stern look. Tapping a finger on the table.
"Oh, a Paladin, tells me you're a skilled frontline fighter Dagna will like that she won't have to deal with all the heavy lifting, and it will be great to have another magic user." Alaric showed genuine curiosity at Zarath's statement.
"I can't use magic, its mostly just a title anyway Tharon is the frontline fighter in our group I am better with my bow." Zarath stated cautiously.
Alaric raised an eyebrow, his curiosity unabated. "So, Tharon is your muscle, eh? Interesting." As they conversed, Sha'lara and Lyra returned, their laughter ringing through the hall. Lyra's face was painted with intricate patterns of glittering gold, and she seemed more relaxed than Zarath had ever seen her.