“Auvaine Vineyard
The Auvaine family vineyard is the only wine producer remaining in the lands that were L’Chasse. Their production of alcohol has kept the long lived family safe and wealthy for generations. The return of the Immolated Order and their zealots has put their safety in question.
Questing: Level 8-11”
The patrols were wandering down open pathways and occasionally into the lines of latticed vines covered in sickly yellow leaves. After kneeling next to my former foe for a few long minutes I thought I had a fairly accurate map of the vineyard in my head.
Spying a small hillock on the south side of the property I guessed that was where the mausoleum was. Giving the corpse of my enemy a gentle pat, I took off into the night sprinting at considerable speed with the effect of the blooded buff. Giving the patrols a wide berth I was pulling open the rusted wrought iron gate of the long neglected mausoleum less than fifteen minutes later.
The building itself was decorated with a fitting coat of arms, a cornucopia of grapes topped with a six eyed bird of prey with its four wings spread. Ducking inside, I closed the gate behind me. Unlike the massive Necropolis where I had started my journey, the scattered gravestones here were not carved to resemble flames, but black stone markers set into the ground. Making my way up to the open arch of the darkened building I peered down into the cobweb strewn stairwell.
Glancing around the small hilltop for signs of pursuit or curious patrols, I summoned my weapons as I made my way inside.
The mausoleum was a simple affair. It was cross shaped with four coffins in each of the wings. Each was nondescript and covered in dust and cobwebs. After several long moments in the darkness I finally said, “Anaya?”
A crackling sound echoed from the left wing. A dagger was already in my hand as I surveyed the western alcove through the thick hanging webs. After a long moment I cut my way through the webs to a hidden alcove where a flickering blue glow was now brightening the chamber. Reaching in, I grasped the glowing object to pull it free.
When I saw it, I grimaced and muttered, “Of course.”
A cracked and decaying skull pulsed a brilliant blue in my hand.
A smooth rich female voice spoke as I held the skull in my palm, “How remarkably calm. Most who were holding a glowing and talking skull would recoil.”
I leaned against one of the coffins and looked into the skull’s sockets where two points of flickering blue flame regarded me, “I’ve met your… I guess our sire. My propensity to be shocked has kind of gone out the window.”
The skull sounded sympathetic, “Yes, she guards herself by putting others on the backfoot. It takes a great deal of getting used to. I am Anaya.”
After a moment I offered her a wry smile and put a hand to my heart as I said, “Florin.”
The points of the skull’s eyes surveyed the chamber and then she said in a resolved voice, “If you have saved Theodora and I am not here I can only assume I,” the skull paused and corrected herself, “Anaya has been destroyed?”
I answered with a sympathetic tone, “Yeah, that is the way it looks. I’m sorry.”
After a moment’s reflection she said, “And that means Theodora is the last of the Heartrose we have left.”
Sitting on one of the stone coffins, I set her on my knee as I asked, “What is the Heartrose?”
She seemed to consider me a long time before she responded, “Of course Theodora told you nothing. The Heartrose was her sire, a Remnant sent from a distant world to reach the center of the Spiral. Eventually it became the name that we associated with our entire group.”
Resting my head back against the wall I said, “A Remnant like me, huh?”
Her eyes scanned me slowly and she said, “The Heartrose arrived on the Spiral with an entire host sent by their masters. They built the City of the First Crusade to prepare for their journey. They set off from this place to descend, facing dangers on each of the different steps of their journey. The Heartrose revealed to Theodora that at some point a great and terrible truth was revealed during their quest. Whatever that information was, it called into question the very motives of their goal. Most were resolute on their descent but the one that would come to be called the Lady of Flame chose to attack her fellow Remnants proclaiming that none may descend beyond the City of Lotz and her fortress until some great requirement is met…”
Not particularly hopeful, I asked, “Theodora hasn’t told you what the requirement is?”
Anaya studied me and sighed, “Theodora is sworn not to reveal the secret and The Lady of Flame refuses to tell her Immolated Order.”
“What happened to the Heartrose?”
Anaya’s response was pained, “Following the revelation that fractured the crusade he tried to convince his associates and the Lady of Flame to continue the descent. When she refused and attacked the other Remnants he started an order of resistance in hope of defeating her. They fought her for decades. I joined in the latter years before his disappearance. One day the Heartrose set out on his own into the city of Lotz toward the Lady of Flame’s tower. He was never seen again. Our best guess is that she finally defeated him.”
“So, the Immolated Order kept Theodora alive because she knows this big secret?”
“Accurate.”
I stroked my chin and sighed, “So, Theodora mentioned you might be able to help me.”
The pinpricks of azure light seemed to narrow, “I see, if you are the new childer of her blood then you will need to be capable.”
A thought dawned on me and I looked toward the exit as I asked, “What happens to you after you help me?”
She did not hesitate to say, “An imprint loses cohesion after its mission is complete. I will cease to be.”
I considered that, and the ramifications. After the story that Theodora had told about Anaya’s past the idea that she would die trying to save that brat only to vanish after passing on her information to me didn’t sit right.
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“Alright, let’s get this party started,” I gave the skull a thumbs up.
Seeing my smile she cut me off, “Don’t get too excited handsome. Before I will convey my training I need you to complete a task for me.”
“A quest? No problem, I’m an ace at quests. What do you need me to do?”
“The family who own this vineyard and winery housed me in secret before my mission. Their ancestors were friends of the cause of the Heartrose. I know and feel that the grounds have been overrun. The family still lives but they are prisoners. I know not who the infiltrators are, but before I convey my training to you all of them must die.”
Lydia updated my class quest:
“Quest Evolving
Attain a New Class!
XP Gained : 200
XP Reward: 400
Item Reward: Cloak F Tier, Tools F Tier
You have arrived at the Auvain Nuit Grape Vineyard and Winery. The imprint of the Heartrose Assassin Anaya has asked you to defeat all those who hold the Auvaine family hostage on the grounds. Do this, and she promises to train you in a new class.”
“Kill a bunch of kidnappers? That shouldn’t be a problem. Do you want to stay here?”
“I will remain. If you fail someone will need to train the next childer who comes after you.”
I searched for a recessed alcove and carefully set her far back into its webs muttering, “Rude.”
As I departed the mausoleum Anaya called after me, “Florin?”
When I paused to look back she said, “I know little of the systems that Remnants use to gain power but make no permanent advancements until you return to me and receive your training.”
I nodded, “Solid advice. This is why you were the HEAD of Theodora’s assassins.”
The fiery eyes narrowed at my emphasis on the word and I offered a pained smile, “I’m gonna go.”
“You should.”
I was out of the mausoleum and through the gate in a flash. The small building was on a slope above the vineyard and winery and I paused there to study the green flames of the torches carried by the cultists as they made their ways down the broader paths cut through the dark vines.
I hurried down the slope under the cover of darkness and slipped into the shadow of the trellis rows without an alarm being raised. I moved through the shadows of the yellow vines and between the rows moving to intercept the patrols. As I neared the first I heard two distinct voices.
“The miller’s daughter would make a fine convert.”
A deep voice answered with a warning note, “It is clear that your interest in the vintner’s daughter is not virtuous brother. He has told the Lord Commander that if one of our order sullies her that the offender will take his own life.”
As they passed the rows where I hid, I used Analyze to get a sense of their power. Both men were level seven soldiers. Each of them had a weakness to Piercing damage and an ability called Clarion Call, which Lydia helpfully described.
“Clarion Call: By using a horn nearby allies are buffed and enemies must oppose the user’s Charm with their Spirit or be stunned.”
They were wearing the black and red livery of the Immolated Order. One of the men was hulking and carrying a hammer. The other was small with a slightly hunched back and carried the torch and a small horn on his belt. Both of them were human and had the familiar spider web of fiery veins other cultists I had encountered had displayed.
The small man, in a high pitched and nasally voice, added, “She would make a fine mate for an upstanding and penitent servant of the Lady. The order must replenish its ranks.”
His comrade answered simply without a hint of joviality in his voice, “Do not sully yourself with such impure thoughts and do not force our contingent to replace the vintner that supplies our camps with the only wine that will grow in this cursed place.”
Taking a needless breath, I slipped out of the safety of the dark rows and moved up behind the two idly chatting men, summoning my hammer into one hand and dagger into the other. For a considerable expenditure of Essence I activated Thump and Slice at the same time. With a low snarl I crushed my hammer into the smaller man’s back and drove my slender blade into his side. The man gasped for breath and staggered under the force of the attack. As he nearly fell to his knees I silently charged the larger man.
He was just realizing the situation as my hammer collided with his stomach and my dagger created a neat furrow in his side.. The large man screamed in alarm loud enough to be heard some distance away. Behind me the small man was coming out of his stupor and grabbing at the horn on his belt. Ducking under a swing from the giant, I used my dagger to disarm his ally, tossing the horn into the nearby vine latticing.
As I refocused my efforts on the hulking man the now disarmed torch carrier fumbled for his shortsword. My target cursed and stumbled into a retreat attempting to take advantage of his greater reach. Keeping pace with him I slashed and crushed the man with repeated strikes in an attempt to keep him off balance. In desperation he hefted his large hammer over his head for a brutal overhead strike.
With a casual air I commented, “Tough break,” as I drove my blade into his lung before kicking him to the ground where he lay still. Distantly, I heard shouts somewhere within the rows of the vineyard.
Bounding toward the remaining man who had just managed to pull his blade, I deflected the short blade aside and rushed in activating Slice with my dagger as I dug a deep gouge into his midsection. He screamed in pain and staggered back clutching his bleeding stomach as he stuttered, “No please!”
Ignoring him I used my hammer to hook the back of his leg and trip him to the ground.
He struggled to raise his trembling blade and hissed through bloody teeth, “Lady take you heathen!”
Ignoring him, I jumped onto his chest and buried my fangs in his throat. He struggled mightily at first panting and cursing before his legs slowed and he slumped to the path.
As I finished draining man’s blood I could hear the sound of other soldiers charging out into the fields and didn’t even pause to loot my foes. The Blooded buff surged through my veins and I hurried to vanish amidst the rows of concealing yellow leaves.
A voice called out, “Two down here!,” and another more commanding male voice boomed, “search the rows! Find them!”
I continued my flight listening as more guards stomped through the rows calling out the results of their searches. When I found a nice spot to blend in among the vines I waited patiently as the guards continued their search.
When a muttering angry guard stomped past me I kicked him in the back of the knee and jumped into his back with a leading elbow, bearing him to the ground. Holding his face into the dirt, I drove my dagger into his lower back several times until he lay still. This time, he wasn’t able to call out an alarm and I looted him. Snagging a common signal horn and the man’s tabard, threw his heavier mailed armor into my inventory to sell later, and most importantly grabbed his weapons.
“Cultist’s Shortsword
Type: Light Blade
Slot: Main Hand
Requirement: Agility 11
Rarity: Common
Tier: F
Ritual Dagger
Type: Light Blade
Requirement: Agility 10
Rarity: Uncommon
Tier: F
Bleed effects last 10% longer and cause 10% more health damage.”
Throwing on the tabards I smiled as I said, “Time for a little subterfuge,” before dropping the man’s pilfered blades into the scabbards on my belt. Leaving the body face down in the blood soaked soil I made my way toward the winery.
