Champion of a Lost Cause

Effruin rises beside Vas’s motionless body, his left shoulder trembling from the fight. He follows the route marked by Harvess’s silver seal, leaving the churned road behind.

The surviving rebels spread across the trail behind him, keeping their distance from the dead druid and from Effruin. Their low argument follows through the rain-dark trees.

No one follows. The rebels remain with Vas’s body and the scattered camp, weighing survival against vengeance as Effruin descends toward the marked crossroads.

The forest thins ahead. Fresh wagon tracks cross the muddy road, and beneath a crust of rain the faint sigil of Harvess’s household marks the guarded crossroads.

Beyond the crossing, the direct route bends toward Sosshan territory. A covered wagon waits near the guards’ post, its canvas bearing the same silver crest as the seal in Effruin’s hand.

Effruin approaches the guarded crossroads beneath rain-dark branches. Two imperial guards, armored men with wet cloaks and spears, turn toward him as the wagon’s silver crest catches the dim light.

His missing arm makes the threat physically stark rather than grand, while the scars of an escaped slave invite their contempt. The Chimera Hide Wineskin rests against his hip, its liquor lending his voice a controlled drunken edge.

Effruin’s attention is fixed on the guards’ hands and eyes. His gaze strips the guardsmen of their authority over him, leaving no obedience in his posture or voice. In their eyes, Effruin sees the fear of men who know when they are faced with insurmountable odds.

The guards lower their gazes and step aside. Effruin passes the post without challenge, and the wagon’s covered route beyond the crossroads lies open to him.