Baleful Wings (Dragon's Dogma Fanfiction)

Chapter 28: Proficiency

"The short one is Ser Franz," said Edward, pointing at a man with short, neatly-cut blonde hair and green eyes. He was eating an apple and conversing with a taller man with a stubble and stylishly wavy brown hair. "The one he's talking to is Ser Orson."
"I'm Ser Lyon, 'tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance," inserted a handsome fellow with long white hair. His eyelashes were long, and thick. In fact, he reminded Arya of Reynard.
"A woman?"
Lyon smiled gently, "No, although many do get that impression." Arya was amazed at him, even his lips moved beautifully.
As they stepped out of the city gates, and descended the stairs leading to the Gransys Fields, the Black Cloaks hooded themselves under the blackness of night. A shiver went up Arya's spine, it felt like she was traveling with a troop of reapers. They all carried lanterns, but even their blades were hidden under their capes. Suddenly, the night began to moan. The Black Cloaks walked slower.
Crumbling and crackling sounds filled the air, paired with horrific groaning.
"Prepare for battle," whispered Edward.

A hand shot forth from the ground, grabbing Arya's ankle. She gasped, and drew her cinquedea. Unable to move, a man emerged from the darkness and grabbed her.
"What the...!? Get off--" A lantern shined on the man's face, one eye dangled from the socket and the other was completely gone. His hair was straggled and the skin barely clung to his bones. She froze completely, knowing that screaming wouldn't have made sense at this point.
"Ruaaaggghh!" A putrid odor spewed from the decayed creature's mouth as it roared. Arya tried desperately to shake its icy grip, before it abruptly flew to the ground, screeching.
"At arms, Arya!" Said Lyon, with his greatsword drawn.
"Its the Undead! Ser Rennac!"
Arya heard strange incantations, and suddenly her blade glowed bright, and became covered in fire. Upon noticing this, she saw that the creature's arms were still clasped onto her shoulders, dismembered from its body. She jerked suddenly, frantically knocking away the clammy dead appendages.
A walking corpse swung its fists at her, she blocked and slashed at its chest. Even though it set ablaze and barely held together, it kept fighting.
"Maker's grace... They don't relent!"
Arya dealt more punishing blows to it before it finally fell to the ground.
She saw a glimmer, metal reflecting off the lantern light. She deflected the assault quickly then thrusted her blade into the attacker. The disentombed creature raised its sword, showing no sign of discomfort at the cinquedea pounded through its abdomin.

"Aye, just like that!!" One of the black cloaks swung a hammer at the creature, crushing its jaw. His auburn hair was slicked back, and he had a sickening grin on his face. "These bastards ill-like blunt weapons. And I just so happen to fancy crushing bones." He spun his weapon and cracked it against another skeleton's sternum. Arya remembered the undead's crude battle tactics from her previous encounter with undead while battling the Elysion. They fought with no concern for their own safety, almost as if their only purpose was indiscriminate killing. Deflecting a blow, Arya impaled the creature then followed up with a punch, breaking its jaw. Another one attempted a surprise attack, only to be bashed with her shield.
"It seems that was the last of them," said one of the Black Cloaks. He placed his Magick Shield on his back, and folded his arms.
"Sadly," inserted the hammer-wielding knight, still grinning sadistically. They hooded themselves and started back walking. Arya was still shaken from the battle, yet they continued like nothing happened. Every attack and reaction replayed in her mind, she felt insanely alert at each sound.
"You handle yourself well, girl, but if you don't get the eye if the tiger you won't last long." Said a cynical voice, "I'm Caellach, 'twas a real pleasure seeing you kill." Arya felt uneasy at his comments, especially noticing the way he twiddled his fingers about his hammer.
Another Mystic Knight chuckled, "You speak as if you would've survived hadn't I enchanted your weapon." Caellach grabbed him by the collar, "Why, you..!!"
Arya was somehow enchanted by this group of men. They carried themselves with elegance, and mystery. "You must be Rennac," she said briskly.
He turned around, "Yes, I am. Your reputation proceeds you, ser Arya."
She scratched her neck, "I can only hope that not too many people laugh at my blunders."
Rennac shrugged, and pushed Caellach off with an awkward amount of ease. "Quite the opposite. I've heard naught but feats worthy of praise. Singlehandedly invading a hostile bandit fort, and I've heard word that you saved the Captain's life."
Arya thumbed her chin, "You mean ser Mustache?"
A bout of laughter was cast over the troop as Edward raised his hand. "We'll rest here," he said, still slightly chuckling.

"I've always told him that mustache was ridiculous," said ser Orson, taking a seat next to Arya, who was holding her knees in front of a campfire. He towered over her even while sitting down, the campfire illuminated his wavy brown hair. His blue eyes made his aged features somehow charming.
Arya smiled, leaning onto her knees.
Orson looked down at her, his stubbled smile was gentle, yet slightly weary. "You've a fair amount of strength for such a young girl."
Arya raised her eyebrows, "Do I? I haven't noticed."
He rubbed her head, but in a strangely parental way before standing up and walking away. "When you live to be my age, don't let the slaying of beasts be your legacy," he said, afore laying down in his cape.
Arya was confused by the saturated blackness of the night. Franz had just started grilling a slab of Beast Steak.
"Not too long ago, moonlight shined on the plains." Now, there is naught but black, like a veil of darkness over the land." Arya observed, suddenly noticing the precious glow of a lantern's light.
"The moon shines but a few days out of the month in Gransys." Said Franz, "Although I heard that in Hearthstone, the moon shines every night."
Arya nodded in response, "So who, exactly, are the Black Cloaks?"
"The Duke's clean-up crew," scoffed Franz, "We're treated like his last resort, or the ultimate unit. In reality, if ever we're deployed, then whoever we're 'assisting' was sent to die."
Edward sat next to him, "It guarantees our success. Among our ranks are; ser Franz, ser Gerik, and ser Rennac as our support mages. Ser Valter, ser Caellach and ser Orson as our scouts and lastly ser Lyon, ser Garcia and myself as the main offense. We keep each other strong at different angles, as opposed to most units that aimlessly try to drown their targets in steel."
Arya was immediately reminded of Ace and Kairo. One who attacks directly, and one that attacks from afar.
From this, she learned that battles aren't won by individual skill, but instead by clever tactical advantages.