After a week of travel over choppy river waters and five days trekking through the muddy swamp, Astrid decided adventure wasn't all that it was cut out to be.

It wasn't exactly the exciting, fast-paced exploration full of thrill and exhilaration she'd imagined. The first leg of the journey was mostly sitting around on a ship that heaved violently over every wave, and this second bit was all marching, from dawn to dusk through the mud and muck each and every day. Exhausting is what that was, and she was sick of ending each day with a boot full of mud and water and feet so pruney her skin threatened to slough right off. It wasn't even boring or monotonous, because there was so much to watch out for and worry about here in the Deadlands, from local predators to unyielding Aberrations and of course keeping well out of sight of civilians and military patrols alike so as not to give away their position to Aultman and Sons, who were surely on the lookout for Astrid and her family after the whole hexstorm in Ashbend.

They didn't even have to ask Lord Edward or his Knights to steer clear of anyone. They just knew what to do, because Aultman and Sons were notorious for their anti-competitive practices. Daddy said the British, French, and Métis weren't happy about the company buying up shares in every moving company working in the Deadlands, but the Federal Government refused to step in and do anything about the Aultman monopoly because 'no laws had been broken' and it was just 'the free market at work'. Which was political doublespeak to say that the Aultmans had paid off all the right people and the cost of doing something about it was more expensive than leaving things be. Least that's how the higher ups felt, but people in the field like Captain Herrera in Stillwater knew just how bad things had gotten. People and governments alike were paying more money for less everything in the Deadlands, and people were dying for it.

That's why the good Captain was willing to look the other way and help Daddy bring Harald and Astrid into the Deadlands. Because he knew something needed to be done, but his hands were tied, so he could only do so much.

Of course, the actual quest itself wasn't nearly as fun as she thought it'd be either, and a whole lot more miserable than expected. There was so much the stories left out, like having to tinkle in a bush with people in earshot just so she could stay safe. Or the clouds of buzzing bugs lingering about at all hours of the day and night, mostly kept at bay by the Protection from Insects Cantrip but too stupid to buzz off and find something else to eat. To make matters worse, those stupid bugs didn't care about the Cantrip if she was fast asleep, and after waking up that first night all covered in swollen bites, she didn't forgot to set up her mosquito netting a second time.

Stupid Howie. He helped Chrissy and Elodie set up their nets, but didn't say anything to the rest of them. A simple reminder is all it would've taken, or he could've been extra nice and helped set it up for them. Instead, he let them learn the hard way and supplied some balm to stop the itching.

The oh so miserable itching. Even thinking about it made Astrid want to claw her skin off. Literally claw, because she hadn't had the time to file her black, chitinous nails since they arrived and they were curling into points again. On her fingers and toes both, yet another unwelcome gift from her Innate Brand, one that added fuel to the fire of those who called her demon-kin.

Least she didn't have hooves. That would've made the marching so much more miserable, especially with the stupidly heavy packs Howie expected them to lug around day in and day out. Gave her a big, unwieldy Whumper too, with some hexing tube screwed into the end of the barrel that kept smacking her in the back of the head head every time she took a step. Don't forget about the smell, which wasn't all that bad most of the time, as the swamp had an earthy scent laced with a hint of eggs that were just about to go bad. That was the smell of sulphur, which a lot of people didn't like, but she found it rather calming really, like she was in a lab dug out in the dirt.

It was the other scents she didn't like so much, like the rot and decay of the Aberrations Howie hunted day in and day out.

With the enthusiasm of a kid at the county fair no less, one determined to give every single carnival game a real go. In all the years she'd known him, Astrid had never seen him happier than in the last few days. He had a real rocky start, but even after his first disastrous fight where he struggled to win against seventeen Zombies and needed an assist from Elodie, he still laughed it off like he hadn't almost died a handful of times. Astrid's back was soaked in sweat from just hearing about how he dodged all those zombie lunges, but when all was said and done, he was relaxed, and grinning like a fool while stacking fetid, bloated bodies up like firewood.

She'd always known he was good at what he did, but she never really understood how much he enjoyed it, not until seeing him in action. It wasn't that he performed spectacularly or anything. He didn't dispatch those Zombies without breaking a sweat or make it look easy. He worked for those kills, stumbled around and made mistakes, got flustered and worried and was maybe over cautious at times, but that was besides the point. In spite of all the hardship, he wasn't out there fighting for his life; he was having the time of it, whooping and cheering as he chopped heads and stomped knees with a big, toothy grin that was more genuine than most his smiles. His mood only improved over the days as he got better at fighting the Soulless, and soon enough, he was hacking and slashing his way through whole packs of Zombies without having to set up before hand. He still did a little bit of prep, laying trip wires and setting nets to slow or capture his quarry, but only as a fall-back site in case any Ghouls or Wights showed up. Then he'd run in and take them all out with whatever Cantrip he felt like using that particular fight, and anyone with eyes could see how quickly he was improving.

Astrid started watching him fight too, and she could see the progress. In his first few fights, he'd been all stiff and uncertain, always planting his feet before putting all of his effort into every swing which left him panting and sweating after a couple big hits. A huge difference from today where he stayed light on his feet and darted in and out of the fight to deliver compact and concise strikes with his battleaxe, with swings that were arcing maybe thirty or forty degrees at most before dancing away. Like punching with the axe head, that's what it looked like to her admittedly novice eyes, as opposed to swinging at a baseball. Used less strength overall, but was even more effective at killing Zombies, and he was nothing if not efficient. Then there was the way he wove his Cantrips in and around his attacks, preferring to use Fire Bolt instead of a melee Cantrip like Green Flame Blade because it gave him more flexibility to attack multiple targets or the same one if he screwed up and didn't kill it in one hit.

Astrid wasn't sure if it was better or worse, but the results spoke for themselves. By her count, Howie took out forty-five Zombies in today's fight, and he wasn't even breathing hard at the end of it. No, the mana-muddled fool was smiling and cracking jokes with everyone while stacking those corpses high, and even talking about maybe heading out to hunt at night. "Not tonight," he clarified, when he saw all three Knights make faces in varying shades of polite disagreement. "But we coming up on the area with all them plants soon enough right? I figure we can run overwatch in shifts during the day while the Askefjords forage and study and whatnot, then head out once they all settled in for the night to try our hand against a pack of Ghouls or even a Wight and Zombie retinue."

Because the Soulless were more active at night. They didn't much care for sunlight, though no one really knew why. There were theories of course, like how sunlight was similar Radiant energy and disrupted Necrotic Energies, even though proof showed otherwise. Or that the Sun was a Divine force, like they were all cave dwelling neanderthals who couldn't make fire and needed sunlight to see with. Aetheric Photo reactivity, photo-sensitivity, or just general lack of UV protection, there were lots of theories and no real proof, but Astrid was of the popular opinion that they were more active at night for the same reason most Abby were.

Because the darkness affected them less than it affected the people they hunted.

"Howard my good man," Edward began, interrupting Astrid's inner grumbling with his smooth, velvety tones, one that made her tail tingle to hear, "As much as I admire your courage and gumption, I daresay discretion is the better part of valour." Which wasn't what any of them were expecting to hear from the Protectorate's Jack the Ripper, and their faces must have shown it. "Know you limits and work within them," Edward explained. "Is that not what your father always said? I myself am more than capable of hunting at night, especially with the support of Aaron and Luther here, but perhaps you should learn to walk before leaping off a cliff in an ill-fated attempt to fly? Like a Guillemot chicklet you are, one too young to jump but far too eager to seek death."

Howie made a face like he didn't agree, but he nodded all the same. "Message received," he said, which wasn't the same as saying he wouldn't go out to hunt at night. Astrid knew him well enough to know he still wanted to give it a try, but she hoped he wasn't mana-muddled enough to go at it alone without telling anyone first.

On the bright side, they were almost at the area where Cinderfern, Sunflare Thistle, and Scorchvines grew. The Aultmans had a massive farm and processing plant built somewhere around there, one that wasn't on any maps as it was a privately owned and fortified facility which supplied 100% of all the Phoenix Ashes used by Alchemists West of the Divide. They were fiercely territorial too, as the factory lands had been declared Independent for tax purposes, which meant that not only were they shooting trespassers on sight, they also weren't paying much if any taxes on their most lucrative holdings. So much for their staunch American image, but people were easily swayed by what they saw in the papers, even if none of it was factual.

Just look at Howie and the hit to his reputation he'd taken in the last year. All he did was kill a bunch of kids who shot at him in the streets, and allegedly take out the Pugliano Family with help from alleged Cultists. That's all it took to ruin his sterling reputation, even though he was only hitting back at the monsters who killed Josie. He didn't sweat it much though, and even leaned into it like back in Ashbend with that pervy deputy, and Astrid wished people could see him now. He killed Abby with a smile and stacked them all the same with Elodie's help, but while Astrid wanted to lend a hand, she couldn't bring herself to look at those Zombie corpses, much less touch one. They were just Abby, or at least that's what she kept telling herself, but their mushy, rotten faces were still so human and recognizable that she couldn't see them as anything but. Even Harald go a little queasy around them, but Howie was all smiles and good cheer as he worked alongside the uncharacteristically gloomy Elodie.

So when all was said and done and they set out for the next closest waystation, Astrid made it a point to squelch on over to Elodie's side and ask, "How are you doing?"

That was the best she could manage really, because she didn't really know how to talk to anyone, much less the strange and silly green-haired girl, but Elodie understood her intentions well enough. Giving her a sweet smile, Elodie grabbed Astrid's hand and swung their connected arms about as they marched through the mud together. "Comme ci, comme ça," she replied, which essentially meant not great, but not terrible. "It is so very sad yes? All these Spirits broken and chained, but I cannot lift the shadows and free them until we are safe."

Because it took too much time to do her ceremony for almost fifty Zombies, time in which they might well be attacked again. On the outskirts where there were fewer Aberrations, there wasn't any problem in doing it right away, but they were pretty much in the central region of the Deadland, where most believed the Progenitor or Progenitors were hiding. No one knew for sure, because not even Madigan Harper could find their nest, and he was one of the best Scouts the Rangers had. Not as good as Howie's daddy had been, and when Astrid heard Mr. Ming had been planning to bring Howie here, she couldn't help but wonder if he would've found those Progenitors and cleared them out to free the Deadlands from their foul taint.

Squeezing Elodie's hand to reassure her, Astrid did her best to cheer her up. "Look on the bright side, Elodie. You've already freed so many Spirits, and you'll free these ones soon enough."

Shaking her head, Elodie said, "I have freed some, but not all."

Though neither of them were speaking very loudly, the whole group was marching in tight formation, so their conversation was easily overheard by Howie. Chuckling as he moved closer while holding Chrissy's hand, he gave Elodie's shoulder a friendly swat with the back of his hand, like how boys do with one another because they're too manly for hugs. "You got high aspirations there," he said, not in a mean way, but supportive. "Got your sights set on clearing out every Abby in the Deadlands do you? Free all them Spirits by your lonesome? I respect it Ella-dee, but might be you want to temper expectations."

"Non, you do not understand." There was no heat in Elodie's tone, as she wasn't arguing with Howie, just stating a fact. "Astrid, she say I free many Spirits, but I have not, not all." Neither Howie nor Astrid got what she was getting at, and Elodie could see it, so she furrowed her brow and puffed her cheeks while thinking really, really hard. It was so very adorable, and even more so with Frowny glowering left and right from his perch atop her head to make them a matching pair.

Pointing at the sled of corpses behind them, Elodie said, "These are more than flesh and bone. Unlike the twisted beasts and little green ones, the Great Enemy creates these unnatural shells to trick the Earth Mother and Sky Father into accepting them, because they seek to supplant us as their children. That is why they chain and enslave the Spirits of the fallen, or worse, twist the minds and Spirits of the still living, so that they might hide their unnatural otherworldliness and be accepted by the trees and mountains, the seas and skies."

Or access the memories contained within, like skills, Spells, and other things that set the Soulless apart from Goblinoids and Ferals. Astrid didn't say as much though, because religion was often a touchy subject, and there was no harm in letting Elodie believe what she believed, as long as she didn't believe that Astrid was a Devil spawn who deserved to be burned to death.

The problem was, Elodie's beliefs left her looking solemn and serious as can be, a shadow of her normally cheery and upbeat self. Still staring at the bodies which Astrid tried very hard not to see, Elodie continued her explanation. "So when the Great Enemy creates even more shells, they fracture those enslaved Spirits, break them apart into crazed and tortured fragments who bring sickness, misfortune, and even madness to those around them. Each one of these shells holds within a captured piece of a whole, fragments of Spirits who have been fractured and broken, but are then mended and made whole without emotion. A fragment is not enough you see, so they must be falsely bolstered by dark magics and twisted into unrecognizable shapes so that they might fit inside their new and poorly fitted vessels. It is like mending a wound on your body with painted clay, yes? Though it may look right, it causes more harm than good. Never again will those Spirits be whole, not until they return to the Earth Mother and Sky Father both so that they might be pieced together again. That is why it is every hatałii's duty to lay those slivers to rest, send them onwards in their journey which was so cruelly interrupted. I have done this for many pieces of several Spirits, but there is still much that remains, and so long as even a sliver is chained by the Great Enemy, then they will never be whole and unable to know what lies beyond."

This was all fascinating information from a thaumaturgical perspective. Astrid understood that unlike Goblinoids or Ferals, the Soulless Progenitors required a host's Spirit or Soul to create Aberrations, living or dead, whereas the others were capable of creating Aberrations from dirt and stone if necessary. They wouldn't be very smart or useful Aberrations, but it was possible, albeit extremely resource intensive compared to a Goblin cobbled together from actual biomass and grown in a spawning pool. While most Progenitors were capable of growing Aberrations from living hosts, it wasn't a requirement, and any Aberrations spawned from such a host wouldn't inherit much from them.

Sure, Goblins spawned from a living human host might be a little smarter than one who sprouted out of goop, but it wasn't like it'd be Goblin Einstein or anything. All a living host did was save the Progenitor a couple extra resources at most, and speed along natural development by a fair bit.

With the Soulless though? Whether it was living or dead, a host was required to spawn off any Aberration. Soulless Progenitors didn't have spawning pools, not in the traditional sense. They couldn't make Aberrations out of primordial soup; they had to have something to copy, and that copy would always inherit something from the host. A Soulless formed from an animal would retain the instincts and mannerisms, if not the entire skillset, and the same could be said for Soulless formed from humans. Not a whole lot when it came to Zombies, but a Wight raised from a Ranger would retain some of those fighting skills, while one raised from a commoner wouldn't be all that much better in a fight than the original host.

You know, assuming the host felt no fear or pain and was beholden to his or her Progenitor master's demands…

So the question was why? Why did the Soulless retain so much from their hosts, living or dead, while Goblinoids and Ferals gained little to nothing save a faster spawning time? Astrid didn't know, and no one really did, but she'd like to know, if only to satisfy her curiosity. It might be like Elodie said, that the Soulless capture the Spirit or Souls of their hosts and split it among countless spawned clones, or maybe it was something else. Maybe Soulless Progenitors were able to access the memories from the minds of the corpses and living hosts they capture, and that's what was shared amongst their Aberrations. Maybe it was something else entirely, something too magical for science to explain just yet, but whatever it was, Astrid couldn't say.

Howie was probably curious too, but here and now, he was more focused on cheering Elodie up, because he was sweet and kind to her like that. "Don't focus on what you can't do," he said, reaching over to pinch her emerald studded cheek ever so gently. "There's too much of it. The work never ends, but you've done plenty of good already, and will continue to do more, so focus on that."

Elodie smiled and linked arms with Chrissy who marched between her and Howie. Astrid could tell Elodie would rather link arms with Howie and lean her head against his shoulder, but she didn't let that stop her from doing the same with Chrissy. "Thank you Howie," she said, before tilting her head the other way to touch heads with Astrid. "And thank you Astrid. I know you are both trying to make me happy, but I am not happy. I am sad, so I must feel this sadness or it will stay with me. When I am no longer sad, I will be happy again, so do not worry for me."

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A remarkably mature and healthy way of dealing with emotions, but maybe that was why Elodie could be so happy so much of the time. She didn't bottle any of her feelings in, just expressed them as they came, then moved on once the feelings had passed. What Astrid wouldn't give to be able to do the same, but her temper had to be kept on a tight leash else it'd get her into all sorts of trouble. Just look at what happened in Ashbend. All she had to do was wait a few seconds longer for those hexing thugs to try and bring Chrissy and Elodie away and then she would've been wholly justified in knocking them all on their asses. Or they would've been on their feet when Harald hit them with his Scorching Ray, taking away all the ambiguity of the attack so that Howie wouldn't have to turn to a bunch of mafiosos to get them off the hook.

Which made for a pretty exciting story full of twists and turns, but gut-wrenching to experience in person. Especially now that they were here in the Deadlands. Even though Howie and the Knights could spot the Soulless from over a mile away, it was still nerve wracking to trek through the dim and shadowy swamplands while watching for bugs and predators alike. There was a constant tension and worry that threatened to drag her down into the pits of despair, a symphony of disquiet set to the croaking, buzzing, rustling sounds of the living Deadlands, so it was no wonder Elodie wasn't her regular, happy go lucky self.

Astrid did her best to keep her spirits high and focus on the positives, like all the Magical plants they came across in their journey. Before coming here, they already suspected that the three key ingredients for Phoenix Ashes were low grade Magical plants, and while they had yet to confirm it, Astrid was sure they were on the right track. In these last five days, she'd collected three unique samples of low-grade Magical plants by sheer happenstance, one of which she couldn't identify. Either it was a brand-new Magical plant no one had ever seen, or it was something so rare or so common it wasn't worth including in the supposedly comprehensive compendium Harald bought in preparation for this trip.

Cowie helped keep things light and breezy too, looking so adorable and tiny as he sat on Daddy's Floating disc with the other two kiccaws. The birds were especially spirited, hopping all about and eating swarming bugs by the beakful, and Astrid was almost tempted to let them perch on her head too just like Frowny on Elodie's. Astrid was too worried about getting bird poop in her hair to do it though. Not that there was any in Elodie's hair, but even if there was, she'd wouldn't bat an eye before rinsing it out, while Astrid would have serious thoughts about burning it all off just so she could feel clean again.

Giving the air a good sniff, Cowie bleated out a rumbling moo and pointed his nose to their right, and Elodie promptly lead their little daisy chain of four in that direction. The Knights weren't all that bothered and followed suit, as did Daddy and Harald, but Elodie didn't bring them too far off course as she stopped a few minutes later to pick some herbs growing at the base of a candlebark tree, all gooey and gross with waxy sap dripping out of its pores. The herbs themselves were just some form of grass and leafy shrub, and seeing Astrid's curious gaze, Elodie explained, "I need more Ghostsage and Sweetgrass for my Ceremony, so I show them to Cowie and he bring me to these."

Was that what happened? Blinking in surprise, Astrid asked, "Cowie can track plants?" Studying Elodie's fistful of herbs, she continued, "Those aren't even the same as what you used before. Are you sure they'll work?"

"Moooo!" Cowie objected, sounding genuinely offended to have his abilities questions. Sometimes it was hard to tell, but she was pretty sure Cowie couldn't actually understand English. He just heard his name and didn't like her tone, so she reached over and tickled his furry chin in apology.

"Cowie is very smart," Elodie replied. "He can find many, many plants, and if he says these will work, then they will. Though they are not the same, the Earth Mother provides. Wherever the Great Enemy lurks, the weapons needed to combat them can be found."

Which was interesting on so many levels. Putting aside the concept of a worldly Spirit or God working against the Soulless, then the only explanation for why that might be true would have to be tied to the Soulless themselves. Maybe there was something about the presence of Aberrations that caused this type of sage and grass to grow. Could also be an abundance of one nutrient and a lack of another that favoured this sage and grass, but not other variants, or something along those lines.

Even more interesting was Cowie's ability to pick out these plants from so far away, several hundred meters at the very least. "How did you know they were here?" Astrid asked, carefully giving the silly white calf's chin a good scratch and smiling as he lifted his head in response. "You're a bull, not a bloodhound. Can you really smell these plants from so far away?"

"Non," Elodie replied, much to Howie's surprise, but he kept quiet and let her explain. "He has a Spell to find them, like Howie can find Aberrations. That is how he always finds the tastiest treats to eat."

"Really?" Howie asked, giving Cowie a look that the baby bull ignored. "You tellin' me that all these years, he been wastin' Aether day in and day out just to find good eats?"

Eyes widening in surprise, Astrid left off scratching Cowie's chin to rummage through her pouch. Pulling out dried samples of all the ingredients they were looking for, Astrid held them out for Cowie to sniff. "Are any of these nearby?" She asked, pulling her hands back as the bull tried to eat the very expensive samples. "No, don't eat them. I need these, and they're all dry and gross, but if you can find more, then maybe you can have some fresh ones."

Broke her heart to have to lie to him like that, but she'd make it up to him. Cinderfern, Sunflare Thistle, and Scorchvines were all too precious to go into Cowie's belly, especially if they were found in the wild outside of the Aultman's territory. Daddy was worried the company would try to stop them by claiming any samples they might find were stolen, but if they could procure enough samples without setting foot anywhere close to the Aultman's commercial farm, then they wouldn't have a legal leg to stand on, not even the thin veneer of one.

Upset at being denied, Cowie bleated out another moo, and Elodie explained, "He can only find plants he has eaten before, else he cannot recognize them." Shrugging, she added, "I do not know how he finds them, only that he can and is very good at it. Better than the hoggis at finding yummy mushrooms even."

Somehow, Astrid doubted that was entirely true. Maybe it had something to do with the way Cowie's eyes gleamed as he stretched his head towards the plants in her hand and stuck his tongue out for a taste. Unsure what to do, she looked to Daddy who smiled and shrugged, while Harald simply nodded and said, "Let him eat them. We came here to secure our own samples, so those won't be of much use."

They could still be used to puzzle out the recipe for making Phoenix Ashes, which was expensive as all hex, but Astrid didn't argue the point. Instead, she heaved a sigh and winced as Cowie gobbled up the better part of a week's wages in a single gulp, because he wasn't taking any chances that she might change her mind. "Greedy," she exclaimed, rubbing his cheeks as he chewed his expensive gourmet meal so very thoroughly while hitting her with his big, round, grey eyes. So much so that he was still chewing when Elodie finished gathering her herbs and they started walking again, though Astrid noted the other girl had left most of the sage and grass behind.

Noticing her gaze, Elodie solemnly explained, "It is best to only gather one in five plants, or one in three if you are in great need. That way, there will be more to harvest the next time you return."

Sustainable practices, which Astrid could get behind in theory. In reality, she was planning to pluck every fern, thistle, and vine she came across, along with copious samples of every other plants growing nearby to see if there was some sort of symbiotic relationship between them. There was something about the Deadlands that encouraged the growth of Magical plants, and she was hoping it wasn't the presence of the Progenitors themselves, or something they'd done to the local Aetheric currents. As far as she could tell, there was nothing different about the currents aside from a thicker, slimier feel to them. Not exactly more of them, just… more easily perceived even when she wasn't trying to.

The flows weren't more present than the ones back home. Just more noticeable. Like louder, or more colourful, or handful of other descriptors that came close to explaining it, but didn't really.

Either way, Astrid was pretty sure it wasn't the Aetheric conditions that made it possible to grow those plants here but not back home. It had to be something else local to the area that allowed for so many Magical plants to thrive, and she was dead set on finding out what that could be. How she might accomplish that was another thing altogether, but if Cowie could find those plants in the wild, then at least they'll have accomplished what they came here to do and she could focus on the next step after.

Unfortunately, even after chewing for long minutes and waiting even longer after he was done eating, Cowie nosed in a direction that led to more of the local Sweetgrass and Ghostsage. Then he did it twice more, which Astrid would've written off as there just being more of it in the surrounding area if not for Cowie's sideways glances thrown in her direction. The little calf was looking to see if she'd feed him more treats to entice him to work harder, which meant she was being extorted by a baby bull, one who was much too cute to be upset at. Especially since airing her grievances would make Astrid sound like a mana-muddled witbane high on moonrot.

So she kept scratching his chin, because she didn't have any more samples to share and she wouldn't do it on principle even if she did. Besides, Cowie deserved to be paid for his work, and she'd have her payback later on once he'd brought her to all those lovely ferns, thistles, and vines which she wouldn't allow him to eat.

Amidst the cacophony of the swamp, Astrid didn't hear anything out of sorts, but Edward's fist shot up for silence and stillness. Cowie's head had already turned to face ahead, while Howie and Elodie had stopped short while Astrid and Chrissy carried on for another step. Then she heard it, a faint blap-blap-blap from far off in the distance, but where she couldn't say. She assumed the direction Cowie was looking, who was no longer sitting so gracelessly and was back on his feet, because those blaps were the sound of gunfire, and where there was gunfire, there was danger aplenty.

Howie didn't need any instructions from Edward, as he knew exactly what to do. "Cowie, up and at 'em. You carry Chrissy as best you can. Gunnar, Harald, Astrid, you three get onto your daddy's Floating Disc and tether it to me. We gonna hafta pick up the pace for a bit." Astrid hurried to follow orders, pulling Harald along with her even though she was dying to ask a thousand questions. First and foremost being if they were running away from the gunfire, or towards it, but she got her answer soon enough as they set off towards the fight with smiles a plenty.

From Howie and the Protectorate Knights at least. Elodie had the good sense to look concerned, while Daddy wrapped his arms around Astrid and Harald both as they hurtled across the mud and muck with only a few less bumps than the boat. Despite all the practice, Daddy still wasn't great at stabilizing his Floating Disc, so Astrid grit her teeth to keep from biting her tongue and decided that after today, she'd maintain the Floating Disc carrying their things while Daddy could help Howie haul corpses.

Mercifully, the run didn't last all that long, maybe a ten-minute sprint that had everyone panting, but no one completely drained. As much as she liked seeing two handsome men sweat in so manly a fashion, she was more focused on the fact that there was a corduroy road so close to where they were trekking through the mud and muck, one that would've saved her from so very many leeches. It led out to the east and west, as opposed to north west where they were heading, but roads led to other roads which they could've used to get here. Then again, maybe that would've taken longer or exposed them to the company, so Astrid swallowed her indignation before raising her sights to see what all the fuss was about.

Only for fear and terror to bubble up as she gazed upon a massive war host of Soulless laying siege to a log palisade of a waystation. Not just creepy Zombies, but nasty, naked, mishappen Ghouls and even a couple massive Wights clad in black plate mail armour and wielding a massive, two-handed Greatsword. They stood at least seven feet tall, with shoulders so wide they'd have to turn to fit through most doorways, while one towered head and shoulders over the rest while commanding its unholy legion to attack.

Astrid finally understood why the soldiers sometimes called them shamblers instead of Zombies. Shamblers were just that. Shambling corpses that were stiff and slow as they shuffled through the swamps at a snail's pace. They were strong and tough, but not much of a threat with their jerky, uncoordinated movements, not unless you let yourself get slowly surrounded. To be fair, Howie almost let it happen that first day, but he figured out the trick soon enough, and it wasn't all that difficult to stay one step ahead of the shamblers.

These Aberrations here though? They were no shamblers. They were full on Zombies imbued with dark magics by the Wights and Ghouls around them, empowering them with more speed and ferocity than they had in life. These Zombies didn't shuffle; they charged and pounced, roared and fought like rabid animals as they tore into wooden walls with reckless abandon. Some clawed at the reinforced timbres and came away with splintered hands, while others jumped on top of their allies' heads and sought to climb up and get at the soldiers defending the ramparts, and still more hammered away at the gates with fist, foot, and skull. It was the difference between night and day, like the Zombies here had been brought back to life and turned Feral in mind and instinct. They ran, leaped, lunged, and even dodged as they moved with unnatural grace and fluidity, attributes Imbued into them by magics so thick Astrid could sense the flows without having to focus, ones so thick and prevalent that she could hardly see the forest for the trees.

While she was busy grappling with what she saw, Howie was setting up for the fight. His fancy, gilded rifle had come out of his pack alongside a second package which he threw towards her. "Astrid," he said, as she caught the set of six stakes that were all bound together by copper wire. "You and your daddy set these up around us if you could. Start with two in front of me, then avoid stepping in front of the rifle while you do the rest, and go as wide as you can without leaving the road."

Recognizing the Sanctuary Stakes for what they were, she hurried to put down the Protection from Aberration Ward, and only after she hammered in the first one up front did she realize the Protectorate Knights were nowhere to be found. All three had gone and run off into the swamp, no doubt to help whoever was in the waystation, but while she was about to breathe a sigh of relief at the prospect of staying safe and sound inside a Protection from Aberration Ward, she heard the distinct pop of Howie's rifle and felt the flames as it sent a Fire Bolt arcing through the air and across the way.

Right at the Wight commanding the battle, which got its attention real quick.

The Fire Bolt splattered harmlessly against some defensive magics, not the armour of the Wight itself or even anything cast atop it. No, the glowing orange Bolt struck an invisible pane sitting several feet away from the Wight, probably a Second Order Force Barrier if not something even stronger. That was bad news, because seeing how all the Wights were fruit of the same tree, that meant each one of them was a Second Order Spellcaster at the very least.

Didn't stop Howie though, as he worked the bolt-action and sent his spent brass pinging into the air, where one Mage Hand was positioned to catch the cartridge mid-air and drop it into an open pouch carried by the second Mage Hand. It looked so fey, how casually competent he was as he took his next shot, then another, and another, with each Fire Bolt slamming home into the Barrier and every casing landing square in the pouch.

Course, she didn't let her gawking get in the way of her job, as she hammered home the sixth and final stake behind them and activated the magic contained within. The road was barely wide enough for two wagons, so it didn't give them a whole lot of room to move about, but she was hoping the Ward would keep the Soulless from coming right at them. Her hopes were instantly dashed as she looked up to see a sizable detachment of sprinting Zombies break off from the besieging force and come directly at them, moving at speeds she wouldn't have thought possible for the living dead while three massive, pinkish ghouls moved amongst them.

"Harald," Howie said, sounding calm as can be as he continued shooting at the Wights without paying the Zombie horde any mind. "Soon as they close enough, you hit them Ghouls with a Scorching Beam. Astrid, you follow up with the same if they don't drop dead. Gunnar, you clean up if they still ticking, or handle crowd control after I've made my move. Elodie, same orders. Stay inside the Ward at all times, and hang back until after I act though. Got it?"

A rhetorical question, because Howie didn't wait for an answer as he said, "Have at 'em Harald."

The Scorching Beam shot out a moment later, in a bright, orange-red glow that pierced through the Zombie mob to strike the leading Ghoul before ricocheting to the other two and burning up a whole lot of Zombies in between. Astrid almost fumbled her Spell, but she managed to squeak on through and hit the still reeling Ghouls with a second Scorching beam. The first one went down hard in a smoking heap, but the second and third were quick to disappear into the crowd after Harald hit them, and Astrid couldn't target them directly. Instead, she picked out a Zombie at the edge of her range and hoped to hit them as her beam passed through, then she did it again with another Zombie on the other side of the mob. So many fetid corpses dropped where they stood, but so many more kept on coming at ludicrous speeds.

Maybe three or four seconds had passed since the Zombies charged at them, but already they were too close for comfort, and still Howie was pinging shots off at the Wights. He seemed wholly unconcerned by the horde of ravenous undead tearing towards them, like he expected the Protection from Abby Aberration Ward to keep them safe, but that's not how it worked. The Ward wasn't a wall of force; it was more of a suggestion, a general broadcast telling Aberrations to stay away. It was a bit more than a stern warning of course, as it affected their perceptions and messed with their heads, but it wouldn't do anything to stop the horde from barrelling right through them.

From the fifty-meter mark, time seemed to slow as Astrid watched death approach, and she couldn't stop staring at their impending doom. The Zombies weren't just faster; they were bigger too, stronger and more alive than any of the shamblers Howie had taken out over the past few days. Maybe he hadn't noticed, was so focused on the Wights that he didn't realize the Zombies were moving faster than he expected. They passed the forty-meter mark in the blink of an eye, then ran even faster to reach the thirty-meter mark. Twenty metres and still Howie was fixated on the Wights, with the clang of his rifle sounding off to let everyone know he was out of ammo as the horde reached the ten-metre mark.

Then and only then did he turn to face the rush of Zombies, with the biggest, most satisfied smile she'd ever seen on his face as his left hand shot out like a spear to point at the horde as he Intoned, "Invoko."

The final word to a Spell almost everyone knew, and Astrid's heart sped up even faster as she watched the Magic surge outwards from him. "I invoke the Great Fire" was the full chant, one that culminated in a giant sphere of superheated flames that was perfectly positioned to consume the entire horde of Zombies as they rushed in. Some tried to jump out of the way, but they were still Zombies in the end, so fast as they might be, their reactions weren't fast enough to avoid the beautiful, all-consuming flames that burnt them to a crisp before Astrid's eyes.

The Zombies dropped dead dead atop the burnt remnants of the logs laid out across the road, and so too did the Ghouls, their pinkish skin now crispy black and cracked to show bits of reddish meat and white bone untouched underneath. They were still dead as doornails, but it showed just how fast and powerful a Fireball could be, one of the most destructive Third Order Spells available to anyone on the Frontier, and one firmly in the pocket of the Firstborn.

Howie had never looked hotter than he did right now, and it was all Astrid could do to keep from squealing in giddy delight. The big hat, the long, flowing duster, the Orichalcum Etched rifle raised and resting against his shoulder while his Mage Hands reloaded it, it was the perfect amount of confidence and cocksure attitude without spilling over into arrogance. Not even after he raised his left hand and blew on his fingers like it was a smoking gun, while flashing that bright, toothy smile and gazing upon the destruction he wrought.

So distracted by his dreamy appearance, she didn't notice the surge of Aether until after his expression froze in alarm, and it took her a second to figure out why. The smoking pile of corpses less than fifteen metres away had not fallen still and silent. It stirred and shifted, pulsed and palpitated in an unnatural rhythm that made a mockery of true life as Zombies and Ghouls alike drank deeply of Aether, so deeply they opened up a connection to the Immaterium that could be felt in the physical world. An absence of everything, that's what it felt like, a void so dark and cold and barren the heat and fog in reality itself was drawn towards the fissure created by the Soulless Aberrations before them.

Not just reality, as Astrid felt more than warmth being ripped away from her, but also the flows of Aether coursing through her body too, flows that she once thought belonged solely to her, and she froze in abject terror at the nightmare unfolding before them. They weren't stealing her magic, her Spells or her abilities, but rather from the foundation those things were embedded within, the Aether that she always imagined was part and parcel of her soul, of which these Soulless abominations drank deep with dark delight.

The Ghouls were first to recover. Their blackened skin cracked open like a spider shedding its skin to reveal soft and tender pinkness underneath. Their howls cut her to the quick as they emerged whole and healthy from within those burnt husks, only to set upon their fallen allies with a voracious hunger unlike anything she'd ever seen. Those fanged mouths filled with new, pearly white teeth all but inhaled the rotten flesh and burnt bones in their haste to fill their bellies, and their taut, misshapen muscles swelled before her eyes as they reformed their battered bodies while Astrid's mind went back to Elodie's description of the Soulless.

Shells. That's all these bodies were. A husk or cocoon overtop a Spiritual Core, no different from the Conjured Armour worn by Howie beside her. That's why they were so resilient, because while the bulk of their shells were real biomass, they could easily repair and reinforce them with Ectoplasm masquerading as dead flesh. Something humans couldn't do because 99% of the time, Aether and Biology did not mix. The other 1% required Spell Cores to serve as a buffer between reality and the Immaterium to create an Innate, and even then, sometimes things went disastrously wrong.

Not so for the Soulless, like the Ghouls frantically replenishing their biomass from the fallen corpses around them, or the Zombies twisting and cracking as they rose to their feet. Less than half were in the process of recovery, not pushed upright by flesh and muscle, but pulled to their feet by strings unseen. They too drank deeply of the Aether and fog surging towards them to mend their burnt flesh and broken bones, but they wasted no time as they lurched forward towards their group once more.

A pop of air and a Bolt of flame shattered the silence around them as Howie worked the bolt-action and fired again and again into the crowd. Seeing the trajectory of his shots, Astrid realized he was aiming for the Ghouls who were still feasting in the crowd, so large their hunched backs could still be seen overtop the mass of Zombie heads. With nothing else for it, she cast a second Scorching Beam, targeting the closet Ghoul and the other two in hopes of taking them down before they could cast whatever dark magics that animated the shambling Zombies into speedy, rabid ones. The orange red glow of her Spell cut through a half-dozen rotten stomachs before striking the first Ghoul, but even before it jumped to the other two targets, she realized she'd jumped the gun.

Because whatever Spell was reanimating and repairing these Soulless was still in effect, and the Second Order Spell she was so proud of simply pierced through the bellies and shoulders of these undead shells to do little to nothing at all. The Zombies continued shuffling towards them, and the Ghouls kept eating and eating, with the holes and burns she'd only just caused mending right before her very eyes.

This was the true terror of the Soulless. Not the jerky, uncoordinated Zombies. Not the naked Ghouls in the visible process of forfeiting their humanity. Not even the cold and emotionless Wights with their near human intelligence and powerful Magics. No, all that was still manageable, because it was just a target to hunt or an enemy to strike down. The real threat was their indomitable presence and ability to shake off even the most grievous of injuries with little to no effort at all. To make matters worse, the trio of Ghouls looked up and howled as one, redirecting the flows of Aether to animate their Zombie brethren with speed, strength, and agility once again, while a wave of cold Fear washed over her and shook her to the core even after the Spell's strength had been reduced by the Ward. The horde surged forward with mouths unhinged and arms outstretched, ready to tear them all limb from limb. In those precious few moments before they arrived, Astrid looked to Howie in hopes that he had something else up his sleeves.

Because she was much too young and pretty to die like this, before she'd even had her first kiss.

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