The God's Game

Accord of Scared Truce

"Missy can come out now."

River unhurriedly straightened up, finally stretching his limbs that had started to go numb from crouching. His knuckles ached from clutching the dagger Raven had pressed into his palms before ushering him behind the crumbled wall, with clear and crisp instructions to slash anyone's neck if they managed to lay hands on him.

Which, they didn't.

The metallic tang of blood slapped River across his face, the biting night air heavy with the acrid sharpness of mayhem.

"If even half of that blood is yours, you need to lie down." River hopped over the body of a groaning soldier, whose leg was twisted in an angle that allowed him a closeup view of the sole of his boot.

The overgrown courtyard of the Cinderlash Manor was strewn with white uniforms of fallen Northern soldiers, reminding River of a meadow speckled with flowers. There were at least fifty of them, if not more.

All struck down by a single man.

Raven Alistair hunched over, hand clasping his knee as he struggled to catch his breath. "Fuck, the world is spinning."

He swayed a little, dropping the blood drenched sword on the grass with a muffled clang. Beads of sweat trickled down his face and he wiped them off with a trembling hand, smearing his cheeks with fresh blood in the process.

River dashed over to his side, barely making it before Raven's legs buckled underneath him. However, River's heroic attempt to hold the man twice his size upright failed comically, so they both crashed down in one spectacularly ungraceful heap with the Southern king landing squarely on top of River. His groan reverberated against River's stomach, and it did not look like he had any intention to move away.

 "I'm dying,"

 Raven lamented dramatically, clutching at his waist. "Only a kiss of true love can save me."

River coughed violently, feeling the weight of Raven pressing against his midriff.

"Best I can do is a high five of semi-cordiality." he managed to gasp out, patting Raven's sweat-soaked back. "Get up!"

"But I'm dying" Raven panted, clinging tighter on to him.

"Go die somewhere else!" River pushed away his head, wincing at how disgustingly warm and wet his hair was from sweat. But his hand came off clean of blood, to River's massive relief. It was hard to say with Raven's all black clothing, but other than a busted lip, a shallow laceration on his bicep, another on his thigh and a sprained wrist, he showed no signs of actually dying.

Judging by how hard his bowels were getting crushed under Raven's dead weight, River was more likely to be the first to kick the bucket.

Raven rolled off , finally letting River breath. "Mean ass brat!"

His knuckles were bloody and bruised. He had also not used his holy sword on the soldiers, just a blade he snatched from an opponent during the fight.

The courtyard belonged to a former first lieutenant. When he was promoted to a higher rank, the family relocated to the capital leaving the once splendid manor to fall into ruination. Few years later, weeds and wilderness now claimed its territory; overgrowth reaching up to River's knees.

The weather-worn, crumbling structure of the manor was draped in an eerie embroidery of sickly green against an ash canvas, with tendrils of vines creeping into cracked stone walls. Moss-covered statues stood sentinel over the pathways and amidst overgrown flowerbeds, the only remnants left of the once-spectacular mansion.
 
After much debate the Verlice brothers and the Southern king decided to seek shelter in this abandoned and seemingly haunted place until they decided what to do next. The number of their allies have dwindled by two with the enigmatic disappearance of Aithan and Wolfram.