The Festival of the Azure Moon

Chapter 4 - The River Spirits

Hours had passed since Sir Talix met with Bishop Gallen. He saddled his horse, Roana, in the stables and set out for the river docks to meet his new commander. His mare was a stout brown warhorse he had purchased many years ago, trained to show no fear when faced with the onslaught of the undead.

Ever since he met Sophia, he could not shake the annoyance he felt toward her. The sheer arrogance she displayed before the bishop was shameful.

The empire must have a severe shortage of men to resort to recruiting women as Sentinels. There is simply no way she could demonstrate the proper casting positions as well as complete the grappling training.

Talix rode Roana through the streets of Riverhill on his way to the docks, trying to follow the path he made when chasing the outlaws the day prior. He kept eyeing the rooftops, hoping against hope that he would spot one of the outlaw magicians.

That Pallumian wizard was a talented evoker. He was able to open portals so swiftly that he had me surrounded before I could even react.

Thinking of the portal attacks the wizard had cast made Talix's raging headache even worse. His divine gift of diligence allowed him to patch up the stab wound under his armpit and fix his nearly broken jaw, but the scars and aches still remained. He rode through the market where the larger portals first opened. Leftover residue from the portal's explosive creation was still scattered around the ground. He turned his gaze toward the chapel and the Holy Knight barracks built into its side.

Around seventy yards. That is an impressive amount of distance. This evoker is no master, but he is competent enough to be dangerous. Perhaps he was a former transporter.

Talix spurred his horse into a trot and arrived at the River Spirits tavern after a short ride through town. He tied his horse tightly to the trough outside and reluctantly entered the common folk tavern. The waft of fishermen and dock laborers flooded Talix's nostrils, but being a slayer of necrozoa, his tolerance for rotten stenches was high.

The patrons of the River Spirits were crowded around a single table in the center of the tavern. A burly man sat to the right of the table, shoving his club elbow down aggressively as the onlookers cheered on their entertainment.

"All right, Ross, this is war!" the man screamed with a gruff voice.

Sophia sat at the other end of the table. She slapped her scrawny elbow down and yelled, "Indeed, it is, Bertram. Today I win back King Ali-ra's honor by besting one of Sovereign Ringavere's shitty backwoods dockworkers!"

The crowd laughed at Bertram's expense.

Talix leaned toward another onlooker. "Does she truly intend to test her strength against that man?"

"Aye," said the man. "She's been reveling with the lads ever since she arrived, but she and Bertram had a spat over Sovereign Ringavere's victory over the old sovereign. Bertram says us humans were destined to rule this empire since we is bigger and all, so the lady Ross challenged him to a test of merit."

Talix looked with concern upon the outmatched Sentinel and was about to intervene on the lady's behalf. Before he could step forth, the pair had already begun their arm wrestle. Sentinel Ross tried to end the match quickly by giving the dockworker a quick shove with all her might, but it was not enough to overcome the apparent difference in strength. Bertram held her back as if he were losing, though it was obviously an act. Ross did everything she could to shove the man's beefy arm to the table, to no avail.

"Finish the girl, Bertram!" an onlooker yelled.

With a bit of effort, the man slowly pulled Ross back to his side, almost lifting her from her seat. It was everything she could do just to hold him back.