Jonas nodded. "I, too, have seen many of my allies in the ground. Some were my friends. One a lover." Greenmoore had been there, at the last stand of the Mistbridge order before the dissolution. "It was about a decade ago. Desmond," he indicated the friar, "Sigurdson, Archibald, Amelie, Bartholomew, Guinevere, Teller, Jamison, Antonio, Devon, Laura, and myself. We tried to defend a small town on the border of Scotland." Jonas looked down with a sigh. "Word came that the monastery had been destroyed, our brothers and sisters scattered to the winds. Morale broke, and the werewolves struck."
He shook his head. "Of the twelve of us, only four survived. Myself and Desmond, of course, and Amelie and Sigurdson. The four of us argued, and eventually we split, with Sigurdson and Desmond going one way, and Amelie and myself another. We traveled together for many years, her and I, doing what we could for the simple folk of the world. But, as always, there was no rest for us. We settled down to raise our twin sons, but we were unaware the town we were in was home to a warlock. In the night he destroyed the village, and everyone in it, in an unholy ritual." He placed a hand to his face and took a deep breath.
"That is who I've been tracking this last year. I suspect your mentor is the creature I was thinking of as the guardian of the caves. If so, he is a creation of the man I chase, Berkeley." Weaver smiled grimly. "Another life to put on his head. The death of your mentor and the magician who traveled with the others in the caves." He put a hand on Zathyran's shoulder. "If you don't have faith, you at least have vengeance. We will find and kill this man."
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Topic: CvRTD: End Of The Line (Read 199429 times)