Chapter Thirty-Seven: Fort Rainguard
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Fort Rainguard had been built a long time ago, in the first era of the empire. Back then, the land had yet to be cleared of its vast, dense rainforests and dangerous beasts and so they constructed a great fortress to safeguard the region and explore its untapped wealth. It had taken many years to build this fort, for it was a monster of one. 

Four great keeps of gray stone sat at all four points of a compass and rose high into the sky, well above where the treetops would have been. Solid walls many feet thick formed a perfect circle between the keeps, inter-cut with round towers that jut forth with mathematical precision. Banners and flags adorning them flapped in the wind and rain.

In the very center of the four keeps was a massive reservoir of collected rainwater, almost a lake by itself. Docks lined the edges of this demon-made lake, teeming with fishermen and tethered boats that hauled in nets full of fish from within. 

From enormous mouths lining the exterior of the fortress, grand waterfalls cascaded down, coating the walls slick with algae and moss. Mists sprayed up high, coating hills at its base in a layer of rolling fog. The deluge fed into those large aqueducts Autumn had seen before, siphoning off the excess water to the water-lodged paddies.

While the four keeps held the living spaces for the knights, guards, and military staff of the fortress, between them stretched the wooden workshops and homes of those who maintained it. Blacksmiths, cooks, maids, brewers, fishermen, and many others. The build pressed up against the outer wall, always leaving the lakeside free for travel. 

There were no traditional gates to this fortress, only a large elevator-like platform hoisted up by a pair of large wooden cranes into one keep.

This was how Autumn found herself rising up the walls amidst the roaring waterfalls on their way to meet with the Lord of Fort Rainguard: Sentinel-Lord Ulnathlin, Gilralei’s father. 

From what she learned, Autumn likened a Sentinel-Lord with a knight-commander or grandmaster. They possessed a chapter of knights obligated to serve as wardens in times of peace and soldiers in times of war. The knights of Rainguard were known as the Rain Knights. In addition, each Sentinel-Lord held a castle or fort fiefdom, and an authority in all things military no less than a governor.

It was all so strange to Autumn. 

Upon arriving at the foot of the keep, the lord had invited all of them to dine with him and his family. Whether this was because of Captain Gilralei’s presence or not, Autumn hadn’t a clue. What she knew was that her outfit was hardly suitable to meet a lord of any kind in. As they awaited in a grand audience chamber, Autumn brushed her robes down for the fifth time. Not that it helped.

Inside the ostentatious chamber stood forty odd adventurers in varying degrees of appropriate attire. 

At one end of the spectrum was Les Lames Du Crépuscule. With them possessing almost half the members of the convoy, they stood out all the more in their uniform, polished gear. Autumn couldn’t help but compare them with the Rain Knights standing guard before the solid doors. 

The differences in gear were readily apparent. Adventurers were travelers, fighters, and local busybodies all rolled into one, so they required other things from their gear than a soldier or knight might. For one, weight. While not as heavy as one might expect, a full plate armor was still an added weight that adventurers didn’t need or want. As such, the Lepus bore mainly chest plates over silk and chainmail, alongside a variety of pouches and bags to carry their gear and/or loot.

Joining them on the well-dressed side were The Wise Cavaliers. Standing proud and flamboyant in their colorful clothes, which they’d somehow had pressed. Instruments of song and tales shone with polish in the torchlight. 

Autumn imagined that a soirée was a bard’s favored terrain.

At the other end of the spectrum was the brawn of The Nemesis Crew and the stoicism of the Red Scorpions. Neither of the two parties had changed their attires, mud still clung to their boots and the Umbra elves had yet to divest themselves of their all-encompassing cloaks and facemasks. How they planned to eat was a mystery.

Finally, there was her own team of roughnecks.

Without being too rude, Autumn had to admit that besides Nelva, her team wasn’t best suited for what she imagined being a fine dining event. Seeing as, aside from brushing off the worst of the mud and rain, they were still a messy, rough-riding bunch of adventurers and she didn’t exclude herself from that description.

However, before Autumn could lament their state of dress any further, the grand doors opened. Behind them lay a spacious dining hall lit by evening light that streamed in through stained glass and warm candlelight that flickered overhead atop chandeliers made of stag’s antlers. Ornate windows ran the length of the chamber, each depicting a mighty knight or glorious battle. Twin long tables flanked the room, decorated with silken runners, and laden with gleaming silverware. The inner side remained free to allow access for the myriad of servants to wait on them.

At the head of the dining hall was a smaller table, placed horizontally. Behind it the Rainguard banner hung: a waterfall-clad fortress upon a field of blue.

Framed by the banner was a tall elven man. Age had silvered his long blond hair, and wrinkled the corners of his eyes. Sharp features and blue eyes watched the parties enter with nary a twitch, although they tightened at the sight of Gilralei. His tall, thin form was clad in long flowing robes that stood in stark contrast to the military display around him. Seated behind him was a regal elven woman who possessed the same alluring feature that Gilarlei held; long blond hair, keen blue eyes, and a body of lithe endowment. Next to her was a young elven boy who looked almost like a carbon-copy of the lord.

The Lord watched on with disinterest and poorly concealed contempt as the disheveled adventurers streamed into the hall and took their places behind soft cushions. A scowl flashed across his face as Gilralei took a place alongside her companions rather than the seat beside him, but it was gone just as quickly as it came.

“Welcome to Fort Rainguard. I am Sentinel-Lord Ulnathlin of the Noble house Rainguard. Behind me is my wife, Lady Aleissezza and my youngest, Ciclerdor. I find myself hungry. You all must be too. We shall eat first, then discuss important matters later.”

With that, he clapped his hands and servants hurriedly brought forth platters upon platters of foods and wines. In quick succession, they filled the tables up with a variety of dishes. Some Autumn had seen before, like cuts of Agoroth meat prepared in a variety of methods and sauces, Duskwheat breads and buns, and roasted vegetables of all kinds. 

Not to mention the sheer amount of fish dishes. To Autumn’s immense delight, she even saw plates of maki style sushi. 

There were also things Autumn hadn’t seen yet. Blood-Hawk stews, shredded meat of giant elk, constrictor snakes, toads, or even the legs of a giant spider. Despite some of their strange nature, nobody other than Autumn seemed put off by the eclectic meals.

Not one to make a scene, Autumn ate her fill of familiar dishes and even tried a few of the stranger types. Before long the hall had filled with the quiet sounds of eating. 

Eventually the food ran out and Sentinel-Lord Ulnathlin stood once more and clapped loudly for attention. As polite, if somewhat annoyed, eyes turned towards him he began to speak once more. 

“Now that we are all full, let us turn matters to this…collaboration. I have taken it upon myself to assign Captain Morlech to lead this endeavor. Under his command will be my force of Duskguards and Rain Knights, enough to properly deal with whatever rabble that it is you have deemed necessary to eradicate. With his expertise, I’m sure victory is now possible.”

An entire room of adventurers turned annoyed eyes towards the said captain. 

There stood a rather short Inferni demon, who barely came up to Autumn’s height. Years of indulgence had soured his face, darkening his teal-skin and ballooning his nose above an ill-advised mustache. They had trimmed a receding hairline of copper locks far too short, it now brushed against his skull like stubble. Enjoyment of one too many deserts lay evident around his rotund waist, barely fitting into a seam split silken gambeson.

Captain Morlech met the criticizing gazes with an arrogance of his own.

“Wonderful.” Sentinel-Lord Ulnathlin said without emotion. “The night is upon us. I have graciously provided rooms within my keep, so make use of them.” 

Without another word, he turned and strutted out the hall, his wife leisurely following behind. Before she left, she sent a warm motherly smile Gilralei’s way.

Autumn rose from her seat with a yawn on her lips. Beside her was Nethlia, who reached out and gestured to the hallway with a shy smile on her lips. 

“Hey, Autumn. Would you like to see the sights with me?”

Autumn’s heart thudded loudly in her ears as she rushed to reply. “Yesh!” Pain flared as she bit her tongue between gleaming teeth. Tears pooled at the corners of her eyes as she flushed an embarrassed red. 

Nethlia chuckled at the sight. 

Outside, the rain hadn’t stopped. It pounded a torrent down upon the fortress, splashing against the stone before running into the basin below. It filled the chilly night air with a constant beat alongside the thundering waterfalls as the pair sought intimate shelter. Safe haven came in the form of a lonesome balcony. As they stood there leaning against a drenched balcony, their night-numbed hands hovered tantalizingly close to the other's.

Moonlight shone down just for the two of them as the clouds parted and, like a blanket, a warm silence fell around the pair.

Orange eyes met black across the moonlit terrace. 

Autumn licked her cracked lips as she sought for words that wouldn’t come. Her heart beat a painful, embarrassed tune. Finally, she gathered herself under the heat of that maddening stare. 

“I’d just like to say—” “Would you like to—”

Clumsy words collided midair and crashed to the ground in a fiery tumble of awkward fancy. The pair paused as they realized their folly. 

““You go first.””

Again, their words crashed upon the shore of the others. Embarrassed adoration flowered amongst the ruins the mischievous timing had caused. However, before either could re-summon the courage to articulate their unspoken thoughts, an argumentative conversation broke into their harmony.

With weapons readied and thoughts aligned the pair crept closer, intent on assessing the danger. 

Their worries were for naught, for they soon glimpsed the sight of their oh so charming host and their actually charming daughter through an open window. The rainfall prevented them from hearing from where they were, so the inquisitive pair pressed closer to hear. However, this resulted in Autumn becoming well pressed between the cold stone wall and the hot wall of Nethlia’s muscles. Not that Autumn was complaining. 

So, with her ears burning and face flush, she listened in. 

The lord’s voice was the first they heard. “Once again, you embarrass me! How many times have I told you not to associate with those…rabble!”

“Don’t you talk about them that way! They’re noble, kind souls!” Gilralei’s voice was heated as she rebuked her father. 

“Noble?! I am nobility! I’ve allowed your dalliances long enough. It’s time you came home! You’ve made a mockery of me in the courts and I’ll have it no longer!”

“Allowed?! Allowed?! I’m a gold rank adventurer, captain of one of the most lauded teams in the barony. Nay the Empire! I accomplished that, not you!”

The lord’s voice filled with mocking derision. “You think you earned your rank? Please, I’ve bought your so-called ‘Gold rank’ for you.”

Gilralei’s heat voice fired back. “Don’t you dare! You can’t buy ranks in the Guild.”

“That may be true, but you can buy clients. You have no idea how many strings I had to pull to get you into all those parties and concerts. Did you really think your group of misfits could actually hold a tune?” A bark of mockery stabbed into the night. 

“You’re lying.” Fury and disbelief filled the bard’s voice. 

“Humph. Believe it or not, once this dreadful goblin business is resolved, you are returning here. I’ve already lined up a potential betrothal for you with Governess Orivari’s son and I won’t have you ruining my plans.”

“But he’s only seven!”

“All the more reason to get this betrothal early. You’ll be happy tending his hearth and home. You are a woman after all, even if you don’t dress like one. The sooner you finish this god’s awful play at being a…urgh…adventurer the better.”

As the Sentinel-Lord stormed off, the weeping of a broken bard echoed into the night sky.

What a dick! Who wrote this guy?! Oh wait.

Seriously, I've no idea where this came from, but it fit in like a perfect puzzle piece.

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