Apostles of Doom

“Stevos, Timbly, Rasmeth and Teragdor have important preparations they need to be doing tonight. I, however, am at your disposal,” Hilda said. Teragdor remained quiet; he knew that what Hilda meant was that he and Rasmeth had more training to do. They had spent every available hour the last few days training with their respective saints, learning and practicing the advanced rituals, chants and invocations that had been well above their previous ranks.

Aeris raised an eyebrow slightly, looking to Hilda. “You are a soldier?”

Hilda smiled tightly. “Unlife are my specialty. I was canonized for my defense of a village against a horde of vampires, vampyrs, ghasts, ghouls and yes, dhampyrs. I have since spent my afterlife as a patron of all those who stand against the Night.”

Hilda tilted her head and trained a steely gaze to Grob’s eyes. “So, I think I am uniquely qualified for dealing with the advanced forces you describe.”

Teragdor chuckled. “She easily defeated the Meat Maker of the Broken Tusk Clan, our local wargtown master, with a single kick.” Wargtown masters were generally the fiercest brawlers in any town. “He got the first punch; she took it and then plowed him ten feet back into the wargtown.” There were more than a few murmurs at this.

Grob grinned and nodded. “I will not disagree, Your Saintliness. I need to be upright for the coming battle.” He chuckled.

Teragdor chuckled as well. “I can assure you there was no one upright in wargtown at the end of that day, because Hilda bought them drinks and then drank the entire town under the table!”

Grob raised an eyebrow at this and glanced inquiringly at Hilda.

She shrugged and simply smiled. “I do like my spirits.”

Stevos and Timbly both nodded in agreement.

“Well, perhaps I need a new patron saint!” Grob laughed.

Day’s March Outside the Citadel: DOA + 17, Late First Period

“There, there. Everything is going to be fine, my dear. We are going to get you and your family safe inside the Citadel,” Hilda told the sobbing young girl she was gently lifting. The girl’s shoe had gotten stuck in the mud and she had fallen down off the slightly raised road while trudging through the darkness towards the Citadel.

Hilda sat the girl down and gave her a big hug while reciting a cleaning ritual to remove the dirt, mud and sweat from the young girl, her clothes and shoes. Hilda pulled back from the girl and smiled at her in the torchlight. “See? Already better!” She gestured down the girl’s clean clothes; the girl looked down and gasped in surprise and happiness.

Hilda smiled and stood, leading the girl by the hand back to her waiting mother and siblings.

“Thank you so much!” The mother told Hilda.

“Hilda smiled. “It’s my duty. The Blessings of Tiernon and his Siblings be upon you!”

The woman and the rather awed children nodded and then turned to continue down the road. Hilda turned back to see several Shield members smiling at her.

“You Sisters have a far gentler touch than we Shield members,” one of the soldiers she was currently working with, one Sarjeant Jacob Holspice, told her. Jacob was in charge of this particular squad. He was a nice young man from someplace called Hovertly. Hilda did not have the faintest clue whether that was somewhere nearby or on the other side of the planet; she had simply nodded as if she knew exactly where he was from.

“It’s simply the differences in how we serve!” she said brightly. She had not told any of the Shield members who, or rather what, she was. Having one of Tiernon’s saints working alongside one could be very distracting. Way too much veneration and all that nonsense; it got in the way of getting work done.

Once they had determined where she could best help — an area where the Forces of Darkness were closer than in other locations — one of Grob’s battle priests had mirrored the commander in the region and had him recite a prayer that Hilda had provided. He had told the commander it would bring them good luck by invoking a powerful but little-known saint who fought the Unlife.

All quite literally true. True, because by saying the prayer to Hilda, she was able to get a lock on the commander and transport herself to his location, albeit in the woods about ten feet away. This time, unlike the adventure that had started this whole thing, she was in a Sister of Tiernon’s working clothes. These were very different from the robes one often associated with Sisters of Tiernon. The working clothes were designed for rugged, outdoor use; on the battlefield, in particular. It consisted of lightweight cloth armor which was bound to, and served as padding for leather plate armor. It was far more flexible, if less protective than full leathers. Sisters were often on their knees tending the wounded, and the armor needed to allow for a full range of motion while still providing some protection.