The next few days went by in relative peace.
Kieran made detailed sketches of his coroner’s tools, measurements included, and handed them over to Darrick. The dwarf did seem a trifle reluctant after inspecting the sketches. But he stood by his acceptance of the commission, and that was all that mattered.
As long as the tools were made, Kieran cared little what Darrick thought of them.
Next, Kieran took some time to mark his new room as his Recall position. He hadn’t asked Rah’Na for a room with windows, deciding his current room was more than satisfactory for his needs. It was good to know he could return to its privacy with merely a thought.
Kieran then turned his attention to the map and tome Rah’Na had given him.
He familiarized himself first with the map of the immediate territory around the mountain. Rah’Na had already pointed out the city of King’s Watch with its surrounding villages. The map showed another two cities and dependent villages: Groveside, a city beside the forest surrounding Eon’s Peak, and Riverbend, slightly farther than King’s Watch but on the opposite side of the mountain.
When he asked Rah’Na about these locations, Kieran learned that all three cities had fallen in the past few decades, overwhelmed by the invasion’s main force. Rah’Na further shared that Broken Tusk had played a pivotal role in the fall of Groveside. The giant boar-man had personally seen to the deaths of three master druids who were crucial to the city’s defense.
Once he had committed the map’s information to memory, Kieran carefully studied the tome on Pale Watchers. The book quickly absorbed all his attention. Consumed by a feverish need to learn more about his enemy, Kieran pored over every page. He took notes on everything from specters, to wraiths, to revenants, to a few undead creatures he had never heard of, even in his mother’s darkest myths.
Then he encountered the pages describing two monsters in particular: the Oculus, and the Bone Laureate.
Described as the most powerful creatures, or rather creature, among the Pale Watchers, the Oculus and Bone Laureate were actually two parts of the same entity. They were the commander of the Pale Watchers. In every invasion, there would only ever be one of each: one Oculus, one Bone Laureate. One combined entity to command the invading army’s undead forces.
The Oculus was a spectral thing. It served as the eyes, brains, and magical source of the duo. According to the tome, the Oculus was capable of bringing down arcane destruction to rival the gods, and it had the smarts to match its power.
On the other hand, the Bone Laureate was the body to the Oculus’ mind. A towering giant, more than capable of splitting the earth with its blows, it was equipped with a veritable arsenal of cursed weaponry and wrapped in equally cursed armor. Its only weakness was that, without the Oculus, it was blind to its surroundings.
If either half of the entity were to fall, the other would rush to its side and immediately attempt to raise their fallen half. Should either remain dead for a period of time, death would claim both.
Kieran spent hours studying the recorded capabilities of both monsters, trying to formulate a plan for killing each of them. As the days went on, however, he understood more and more just how woefully unprepared he was to face the Pale Watchers’ commander.
Every strategy he devised for one was countered by something the other could do. It was driving Kieran up the wall. Not to mention that he would have to fight two extremely powerful enemies at the same time. Even without their long list of tricks, that was a daunting prospect.
Maybe, if he could gain some more power from the gods, he would feel more confident. But there was no progress to show on that front. Every dawn, Rah’Na took him to Eon’s Vault. And every dawn, the gods remained silent.
The old wolf shared his confusion. She even expressed her surprise that the god of strife, Fahra’Uhn, hadn’t shown up to test Kieran yet. But there was nothing either of them could do.
On the dawn of the third day, when Kieran and Rah’Na returned from the Vault, they were stopped by Darrick. The dwarf was covered in sweat, clearly having just left the forge.
“There you are! Your tools are finally done,” Darrick exclaimed without any greeting.
Kieran couldn’t hide his excitement as he power-walked towards the dwarf. “They are? Show me!”
His sudden approach left poor Darrick momentarily stunned with fear, but the dwarf recovered quickly.
“In the forge. Come on.” Motioning for Kieran to follow, Darrick turned and headed back in the direction he’d just come from. “Not a word for days, and then all impatience…”
Kieran ignored Darrick’s quiet grumbling as they walked towards the forge. He had to use all his will just to contain his own eagerness. The idea of being reunited with the tools of his trade was almost too strong to keep in check.
Crossing the open threshold into the forge building, Kieran gasped. The sheer amount of heat was nearly enough to make him stagger. He wasn’t certain whether the constant cold of the energy circulating through his body was helping, or simply creating more of an extreme to knock him on his ass.
Shaking his head, Kieran pushed through the sudden discomfort and followed Darrick inside. The building contained only the forge itself, the tools needed to operate it, and a small table by the door. Darrick directed Kieran’s attention to this table.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
There, laid out neatly on a cloth, was the full set of coroner’s tools he had commissioned.
Some deep instinct in Kieran’s gut took over. A careful calm subdued his excitement and allowed him to focus. He took time to inspect every implement thoroughly, testing the weight in his hands and turning the blades in the forge light.
The tools were almost perfect. It was obvious at a glance that the quality of the metal itself was lacking compared to what was available back on Earth, but that didn’t matter. These tools were still far superior to a dagger or a shortsword.
From the scalpels, to the forceps, to the skull breaker and the bone saws, Darrick had made everything exactly to the measurements and specifications in Kieran’s sketches.
Methodically, Kieran laid the tools out again on the table. Then he took a deep breath, letting it out in a long and satisfied sigh.
“Thank you, Darrick. You have no idea how much this means to me, on a personal level.” Kieran’s voice was calm and measured. All his eagerness had settled into a deep tranquility. He hadn’t felt so at peace since the very first time he cut into a corpse as a coroner.
The dwarf shuffled uncomfortably on his feet, spinning the hammer he still held in hand. “Aye, so it would seem.”
“If ever you need something done, I am at your service,” Kieran offered as he reverently wrapped the tools in the cloth. “Gods only know, I owe you quite a bit for this favor.”
Darrick let out a hearty, yet nervous laugh. “Aye, owe me you do, lad. But leave the gods out of it, aye? I’ve had enough of them for a lifetime.”
“Not too pleased with the divine, then?”
“Not in the least. I mean, look around ye!” Darrick spread his arms theatrically. “It’s been decades since this invasion business started, and only now are ye Contender folk showin’ up! If it was the first time, I’d understand. But I’m sure ye know the invasion is more or less a regular occurrence. The least those high and mighty curs could do is choose their fighters a little earlier!”
The dwarf blew out an exasperated breath as he lowered his arms. “Forgive me for speaking so bluntly about yer uh, divine charge, or whatever.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not a fan of them either.” Kieran turned to Darrick with a serious expression. “Getting plucked out of my own office chair and dropped into all this wasn’t exactly a nice experience. Particularly at first. Not to mention their penchant for cryptics and theatrics…”
Darrick raised an eyebrow and opened his mouth to speak, but he was interrupted when a screen popped up in front of Kieran. The orange light stood out coldly against the forge’s fiery glow.




Quest
Grove Under Attack — Tracking Active
A sacred grove belonging to one of my peers is under attack by the Pale Watchers. See to their end and rescue the priest who resides there. There aren’t many of his kind left in these lands.
Reward: Recall (upgrade)




Kieran turned towards the door with a sigh. “Duty calls, I suppose. Think over that favor, Darrick. I’ll be glad to pay you back.”
“Aye. You take care now,” Darrick shot back. The dwarf turned to his forge, whispering under his breath. “Creepy bastard… might learn to like ‘im, though.”
Catching that last line, Kieran felt one corner of his mouth turn up in a small smile.
If showing my dislike for the gods is all it takes to win him over, all the better.
Being friends with a smith seemed like a good idea.
Approaching the home he shared with Rah’Na, he found the old wolf in conversation with one of the other beast-folk. At the sight of Kieran, the petite fox-man suddenly interrupted himself and walked away, casting a wary glance at Death’s Chosen as he went.
“He doesn’t seem to like me,” Kieran observed.
“Trust will come with time.” Rah’Na gestured for Kieran to sit. “What do you need?”
“Just my pack. Vahr’Khul has a new task for me,” Kieran explained, walking past the table and pushing open the door.
Rah’Na lowered her hand awkwardly. “I see. Do you mind telling me what it is?”
“Pale Watchers are attacking one of the other gods’ sacred groves,” Kieran called over his shoulder. “I’m being sent to protect it.”
“Hah! And I presume Vahr’Khul also wants you to protect a priest who resides in that grove?” Rah’Na shouted back, mockery clear in her tone.
“Indeed.” Kieran reemerged, groaning as he slung his pack over his shoulders. The weight was still a bit much for him. “How did you know?”
“The priest is an elf. Goes by the name Alaric,” Rah’Na explained. “One of La’Rata’s most devoted followers.”
“La’Rata?” Kieran repeated. “Why is Vahr’Khul sending me on a quest for the god of life?”
Rah’Na just shook her head. “It’s more common than you might think. Besides… this particular quest was bound to come sooner or later.”
Kieran furrowed his brow. “Oh?”
“Not an invasion goes by that Alaric isn’t rescued and brought to Eon’s Peak.” Rah’Na sighed. “He’s a useful man. But seeing him dragged here by Contenders, invasion after invasion… It’s left a sour taste in my mouth.”
Kieran scrutinized the grimace on Rah’Na’s face, unsure whether he saw pity, anger, or just annoyance. Even after all the time they had spent together, he still found it difficult to tell some of her expressions apart.
Giving up, he directed his attention to his bracelet. It was pointing him in the direction of the King’s Promenade.
“Well, I suppose I’ll be the one dragging him here this time,” he said. “Apologies in advance.”
Rah’Na laughed. “No apologies needed. Take care out there, Kieran. The Pale Watchers are sure to attack you on the road, even before you reach the grove.”
“I know. I’m always careful.”
And with those words, Kieran set out on his first true solo journey since meeting Rah’Na.
Although it hadn’t even been a full week since they met, Kieran found that he had grown quite accustomed to her presence. He felt strangely reluctant to be heading out on his own. After all, this wasn’t just a short trip down the King’s Promenade to collect some survivors. He might be gone for days. The thought of travelling so far without the old wolf seemed… daunting.
But he buried that feeling. Kieran had spent most of his life relying only on himself. He wasn’t about to stop being independent simply because he’d found a wise old mentor.
So, following the direction of his bracelet, he descended the King’s Promenade without a backward glance.
He could feel the world around him beginning to change even before he reached the end of the promenade. The air was growing colder and sharper. The wind carried a dusty scent, like clothes left in the wardrobe for too long.
Kieran’s hand instinctively landed on his sword’s hilt, ready to react to an attack as soon as he noticed one. But none came.
Not yet.
Still, he could feel an awfully familiar presence keeping an eye on him. It was the same sensation he had felt by that gnoll watchtower, on the day he met Rah’Na: an extra-cold spot on whatever part of his body the thing had its eyes on. Back then, he had mistaken it for Vahr’Khul. Now, though, his studies in the Pale Watchers tome had corrected him.
The Oculus was watching.
That didn’t mean the monster was nearby. It could have been across the world at that moment. But it was watching. And that meant its undead forces all knew where Kieran was.
Tightening the grip on his sword, Kieran steeled himself for the battles ahead.
He had a feeling there would be many before he returned to the safety of Eon’s Peak.