And I'm back, with another chapter, for "Medieval Cohesion". Wesley is forced to pass through the contaminated ruins of Paravil again, in order to reach the towngate, but his walk happens to become quite eventful. Hope you enjoy!

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Chapter 39 - Heartless hero

The time had come for us to continue our journey. It was early afternoon, and I had left the castle, with the intention of reaching the gate leading back to the valley. That is where my group had decided to gather, before heading off towards the western coast. Unfortunate for me, this left me with no other option, but to once again travel through the contaminated ruins of Paravil. By now, I’d know how to maneuver through the ruins fast and effectively, so that my health wouldn’t be too damaged by the awful contamination. But still, it aches my heart to see what used to be my hometown, in such a poor state. The wretched undead have already leveled at least three towns to the ground, and also the tavern near the border. Barrock, Ranador and even Paravil. And we all know that this is just the beginning. The more we delay, the more towns will meet the same tragic fate. The lich king and his minions won’t rest before they’ve destroyed every enemy capable of offering resistance, and drained the planet for life energy, to the point where it’ll wither away and die. But at least for now, our king should be safe, so we can resume our journey towards the west. After having learned that the undead can come out of nowhere, through these dark portals from the spiritual realm, the king has chosen to raise the security and be more on guard. So it is highly unlikely that the undead will attempt to do this a second time. Because then we’d have the advantage, making it inevitable for the lich king to lose a large amount of undead troops, when he so recklessly send them into battle.

I had just crossed the small field outside the castle, but once I made my way back to the ruins of Paravil, it felt like I walked directly into a thick wall of foul odors. My sensitive nose was definitely not pleased to be united with the horrible stench of bacterial contamination. But I had no choice but to persevere and move on. My walk proceeded through the abandoned ruins, and I found myself walking between the damaged houses, this time completely alone. The stench made my nostrils burn to the point where the searing pain was getting to my sinuses. If it wasn’t because my group had been scattered in all directions, I would’ve suggested that we regrouped inside the castle, since it’s risky to challenge this bacterial contamination alone. If it somehow managed to make me go unconscious, there would be no one to pull me out, before it was too late. When death has infested an area such as this, it becomes contagious, and creates even more death among those who approach it incautiously. But as I was passing through the streets, it seemed like my mind was playing tricks on me again, merging my memories with the harsh reality. A ghostly illusion appeared before my eyes, as my mind forced me to view the town in the way I remembered it, before the undead destroyed everything. Crowds of people walked up and down the streets, the guards were on patrol to maintain security, the poultry was running loose like always, stalls were open to sell various types of wares and merchandise.

What I saw in this illusion created by my mind, was Paravil the way I remembered it. But only a few seconds later, the entire illusion flickered and faded away, bringing me back to the ruins that used to be my home. The illusion revealed what my heart yearned for. If I had the ability to turn back time, so I could return to this town back when it was crowded and lively, I’d do so with no hesitation. Most of the people that appeared in my illusion were dead, and had their bones scattered around in the ground, inside the town. As the depressing memories invaded my mind, I released a soft sigh, trying my best not to impair my dignity by shedding tears. It wasn’t working too well. My plated greaves occasionally struck a bone sticking out of the ground, which probably belonged to someone I used to know, before the necromancers disgraced them by turning them into undead puppets after death. My heart felt heavy. But while I was lost in thoughts and memories, I suddenly encountered Archimedes by the broken well, once I had made my way to the towns center. He was walking slowly around in random patterns, with his book open, reading as always. He sure didn’t seem to be in a hurry, taken into consideration that this whole area is affected by the contamination. The poor guy will get infected if he doesn’t get out of here soon. Once he noticed me, he closed the ancient book and directed his full attention towards me.

Archimedes: Do you need me for something?
Wesley: Not particularly, no. But shouldn’t you get out of here, before the hazardous contamination endangers your life?
Archimedes: Huh. The bacterias infesting this area are only lethal to those that breath, which cancels out my reasons to worry.
Wesley: Are you telling me that you don’t breath? Uhh…

At first, I thought he pulled a pretty bad joke on me, at a highly unlike moment. But as he sensed my skepticism, he slowly approached me to prove his point. He reached out and grabbed my hand, before leading it closer to his body, placing my hand on his slender chest. This made me feel a little embarrassed at first, because it felt awkward to touch another male like this, and I turned my head to look around, making sure that nobody was watching. But once I became able to focus again, I realized that his chest was completely still and motionless. Was he holding his breath? No, that wasn’t it. It didn’t matter how long I waited, there was no oxygen drawn into those lungs. What surprised me even more was, I couldn’t trace any heartbeat either. A chill went down my spine. When Archimedes could see in my eyes that I was convinced, he let go of my hand, and turned around to walk away. He probably knew that once I had recovered from the shock, I’d have tons of questions in mind for him. But I just remained by the well, watching the mysterious sorcerer walk away, until he was out of sight. Of course, we all have secrets. But whatever that lemur is holding back, is definitely not ordinary. Nevertheless, my intuition told me that it was probably best not to pry any more information out of him, regarding his… bodily malfunctions.

After Archimedes had left, I decided that it was time for me to get going as well. So I walked away from the open center of Paravil, and moved back into the town itself, making my way to the gate. By this time, I could feel that the searing pain going through my nostrils, was slowly passing to my lungs as well. It was pretty obvious, that my body wouldn’t be able to endure the bacterial contamination for much longer. It was necessary for me to move onward at all times, and not let anything distract or delay me. While walking through the town, I found it difficult to believe that a place which I used to consider my home, could freak me out like this and give me the creeps. It felt like the spirits of the departed were still lingering in the ruins of Paravil, chained to this location by Zervas’ dark magic, unable to find peace in death. No matter where I went and how quiet this place was, it constantly felt like I was under full observation by someone unseen. But with all the rotten corpses and bones laying about, it’s a challenge to avoid have your imagination go wild. Every passing moment spend in this location, made me yearn to escape these haunted ruins, and travel to places that death hasn’t yet conquered. But just before I reached the gate leading out of this nightmare, I suddenly noticed Paul walking across the street, entering one of the burned and wrecked houses to the left. What was he still doing around here? Unlike Archimedes, I was pretty sure that Paul did breath, like any normal person. I could hear him rummaging inside the house.

Whatever he was looking for, I figured it was important. In either case, I was too curious to just let him handle this matter alone. So I left the street and approached the burned house myself, peeking inside the open entrance, where there used to be a door. Everything inside was either burned down or buried under charred wood from the collapsed ceiling. Paul was busy pushing things aside and digging his way down into the piles of rubble. He hadn’t noticed me yet. At first, I wondered if he was just looking for something useful that we could bring with us on our journey. But while observing him, it seemed obvious to me that he was searching for something specific, and this was not his first time visiting this place. Once he had finally removed the pile of rubble, a large wooden beam from the ceiling was blocking his way. There were a couple of scorched black spots on the beam, but compared to the rest of the items in there, it hadn’t been exposed to that much fire. Paul reached down under the beam, grabbing onto it with his gloved hands, and attempting to raise it from the ground. He struggled with all his strength and groaned loudly, lifting it a few inches from the ground, before it slided out of his grasp. The beam fell back down, shaking the floor for a second. Paul cursed at it, and his frustration made him kick it hard to no effect. At this point, I chose to step forward to offer him my assistance.

Paul: Argh, damn this piece of junk!
Wesley: Do you need a hand?
Paul: Huh? Hey, Wesley! Good to see you. I didn’t hear you sneaking up on me. Woah, now that’s what I call a fancy armor…
Wesley: Thank you, Paul. It was a gift from the king. He let me borrow the royal armor, that he used to wear himself in his youth.
Paul: Arh, how nice. You should be proud of yourself. The king wouldn’t hand out those royal plates to just about anybody.
Wesley: Trust me, my friend, I am. But please tell me, what are you doing inside this building? We should both get out of here.
Paul: This used to be my home, before the undead trashed the whole place. There is something important in the cellar that I need to obtain, but this bloody wooden beam is blocking the trapdoor. I can’t move it.
Wesley: We only have little time. Here, let me help you out.
Paul: Really? Thanks a lot, Wesley. Let’s try lift it together.

With no hesitation, I stepped over and placed myself next to Paul, and then we prepared to lift the heavy beam together. We both kneeled down and grabbed onto the large wooden bar, but I could now feel that it was actually pretty slippery. It must’ve been moisturized during a recent rainfall or something. It was definitely not an easy task to grab it properly, especially because of the beam’s thickness. Nevertheless, once we both were holding onto the wooden bar, we both put all our strength into raising it from the trapdoor below. I could imagine that the rainwater absorbed by the wood, had probably added more weight for us to struggle with. With our combined strength, we were capable of raising the wooden beam from the floor, but very slowly. Then a spark of intense pain struck my shoulder, as a sinister spasm occurred in one of the strained muscles. The agony caused my arm to shiver, but I clenched my teeth and ignored the pain, refusing to give up. If the wooden beam was dropped at this point, we’d have to start all over, with no strength left for a second attempt. We pushed ourselves to the limits, ignoring all agony, and then it finally happened. The large wooden beam was raised high enough for us to shove it aside, causing it to slam back down into the floor right next to the trapdoor. There was now free access to Pauls cellar, but we both needed a moment to breath and regain our lost strength.

Paul: Urgh… why do they make those things so large?
Wesley: Well, strong materials are required to prevent a house from collapsing and falling apart. But the beam is not in the way anymore.
Paul: Yeah, that’s right. Please come with me.

Paul reached down and grabbed the metallic ring attached to the trapdoor, attempting to open it. But much to his frustration, the trapdoor wouldn’t budge, because he apparently locked it before the town was destroyed. Really typical. Paul was fuming with anger at this point, and I could clearly tell that he had no patience left to deal with obstacles like this. But then he suddenly raised his foot and stomped hard onto the wooden trapdoor, causing cracks to arch across it. The lock wasn’t strong enough to endure such a violent treatment, so it broke in the process. Then he grabbed the metallic ring again, pulled the broken trapdoor open, and instantly leaped down into the darkness below. Taken into consideration how heavy my new armor was, I chose to enter the cellar more carefully, using the small ladder leading down. Once I reached the bottom, I turned around to check things out. Paul had already lit an old lantern hanging down from the ceiling, because obviously, no daylight could make its way down here. There were old shelves with dusty tools lined along the wall, and Paul was busy pushing his way through various types of junk blocking his way. From what I could tell, Paul probably tried his luck as a carpenter, after leaving the king’s service. A humble but useful profession. There were many interesting items laying about in his cellar, but my polished manners kept me from snooping around too much. What excited me most at that moment, was the fact that the air down here seemed much more fresh and safe to breath. The cellar must’ve been too isolated for the contamination to affect. It was relieving to inhale fresh air again, but with the trapdoor open, it was only a matter of time before the cellar was contaminated too.

I chose to remain on standby until we were ready to leave again. A large and disgusting bluebottle had found its way down into the cellar, buzzing around like crazy. Those little creeps tend to make an awful noise once they get stressed. But only a moment later, it sounded like Paul had finally found what he was looking for. In the far back of the cellar, he kept a large wooden chest, decorated with metallic trims. Nothing fancy, but it was apparently the contents of this chest that he desired to obtain. But he didn’t attempt to open it right away. Instead, he walked to the left and placed both hands on the stony wall, sliding them across the bricks as if he was searching for something. His hands eventually focused on a particular spot, giving me the impression that he was close to find his target. With a swift move, he suddenly grabbed a loose brick and pulled it out, before thrusting his arm into the wall through the hole behind it. Spiders crawled out and made a swift escape across the wall. After having rummaged inside the hole for a couple of seconds, Paul suddenly pulled out an old metallic key, which was apparently hidden inside the wall. Very creative. He immediately went over and unlocked the wooden chest, before pushing it open, releasing a loud creaking noise in the process. I watched from a distance as he reached down into the chest, and pulled something out that looked like a clean and graceful chain mail. It was in great condition, and I knew that I had seen it somewhere before.

Wesley: Woah, is that…?
Paul: Yeah. It’s the armor that I wore back when I worked with you as the king’s royal bodyguard. I’ve kept it in this chest ever since.
Wesley: I’m impressed. The king would be pleased to know that you still have that armor. Most of the royal bodyguards who lived long enough to quit, have sold their equipment to wealthy lords, merchants and armor collectors. Royal equipment is sold for outrageous prices.
Paul: This armor represents the most glorious part of my life. And I value pride and honor above any amount of gold. Please excuse me…

With no hesitation, Paul quickly undressed, without caring about me watching. Unlike plate mails, chain mails don’t leave space enough to wear anything inside. So he had no choice but to unequip and discard the padded leather armor that he has been wearing since we begun our journey. He instantly disposed of the padded leather parts, until he was standing in nothing but his undergarments, and first then did he put on the fancy chain mail. A rattling noise echoed inside the cellar as he equipped the armor, and it seemed like the chain mail was so tight that it revealed the size of his well trained biceps. The set also included a long piece of red cloth to cover his chest and groin, and a leather belt to keep it all in place. The chain mail had spiky elbows, which is useful in defense when stuck in clustered combat. But it seemed like he had no choice but to keep using the same boots that he had worn all along. There was no other pair included in the set. In the end, he reached down into the chest again and pulled out a metallic headgear, that looked very identical to my own. Except for the fact that this headgear had been designed to only fit the head of a rabbit. Before he put it on, he pulled his long ears down and tied them with a small red band, in the same way that you would a ponytail. It was required for the headgear to fit properly.

Wesley: Now that I think about it, didn’t you tell me once that you preferred to avoid heavy armors that slows you down?
Paul: Throughout this journey, I’ve learned that no matter how swift and agile you are, it’s always risky to enter combat with light protection.
Wesley: Yeah, I do recall you’ve experienced a few close calls.
Paul: But I’m still not interested in having too much weight burdening me. A chain mail might not offer the same defense as a plate mail. But its significantly lighter and offers better protection than leather. So in the end, you can consider this a compromise that I’ve chosen to accept.
Wesley: Sounds like a wise choice, Paul. But we’d better finish our business here and get moving. Our friends await us by the gate.
Paul: Alright. I’ll be done in a moment.

After having put on the metallic headgear, Paul was ready to leave the building together with me, now equipped with a fine chain mail to keep him safe on the journey ahead. Once we climbed the ladder leading back up to his wrecked house, we found ourselves back in the contamination, inhaling the airborne bacterias. But it didn’t matter so much from this point. Our bodies had recovered slightly from our brief moment in fresh air, and the gate isn’t far away. Now that our business in this location had been concluded, it was time for us to join our friends, and continue our journey towards the west. It’ll be necessary for us to find a way to cross the sea, so we can access the cave several miles away from the coast, and hopefully obtain the sacred blade. It’s a race against time and we still have a long journey ahead of us. But I keep faith in the theory, that if we stand together at all times, then we hold the key to parry the darkness approaching us. Somehow, I’d make the lich king pay for the death and destruction he had caused. Even if it’d be the last thing I ever did.