The Distinguished Mr. Rose Chapter 73: Chapter 72: Flight of the Thunderbirds

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Chapter 72: Flight of the Thunderbirds The dim light of the morning suns softly trickled through the mist as the expedition, cautious in their steps and taut in their nerves, trampled through the brown sludge of the Misty Wetlands. The environment here was much different than of the plains; for there was no grass, no trees or fields, nor the foliage they had been accustomed to seeing. They could not see much of anything, to be more accurate. Their sight was shrouded no farther than a pace by the heavy mist wafting about. Those toward the back had disappeared into but faint shadows; and the people nearby locked arms, so that they would not lose one another. The slow trudge, the splash of mud, and heavy breaths exhaling in unison: those were the only signs of life, a comforting reminder that the group was not alone amidst this vast and humid swamp. Lucius stuck close to Sir Renaud and Maugris. The two Peers were stern as ever, prepared for this sudden change, and they soon directed orders to be spread toward the back. The paladins all huddled close, so it took no time at all. “The priests will deploy the thunder web around the perimeter. No intensity. Keep the charge dormant, lest we exhaust ourselves before we encounter the mire dwellers,” Renaud said. “Only set the web alight upon Sir Maugris’s call.” Lucius found the new directions quite curious. It appeared the expedition was foregoing their previous stratagem of blinding their enemies; instead, the clergy with their robes and staves of jewels released a faint electric current onto the ground that quickly spread far into the mist. This array followed them as they continued forth. For a while there was little commotion of note. Sir Renaud stoically marched with his trembling cane as usual; and yet, Lucius felt a mild dread emanating from him. The man was not complacent - far be it. He anticipated every slight, prepared for the worst that could happen—this and all he theorized while working the muscles he had in brain rather than body, for it was all he could do. It was a curious sight to Lucius, watching this frail man act as leader. The gentleman had watched him very closely over the course of their voyage thus far; and it was so that he noticed an ‘unfamiliarity’ in him that was not present among the other paladins. That unfamiliarity was, to put it plainly, a lack of experience. He walked with a stagger unused to the slick of mud. Every small patter of rain annoyed him, whilst the others behaved no different. It was not surprising: The paladins were likely used to enduring the elements. Such was inevitable for those serving in the military. But Renaud was not like them. He tried to hide it, but that frown of his was a sheltered one - of a fortunate soul who never needed to dirty himself in the ways of the laborer, or a soldier, or one who was simply poor. His muscles, though thin, were nonetheless bright in color from the tonics and herbs he no doubt obtained from wealth. Even his face was without scar. And yet, for all his signs of luxury, his hands held a different story. They were worn, bruised, and bloody. Large calluses bulged from his palms that looked no different from the blade-wielding paladins behind him. Those calluses spoke of a sightless effort - a desperation to resemble that which he could never be. Renaud was a fascinating study. Because for all his bravado, he was afraid. The thought of disappointing the expedition, of encountering monsters, of that ever looming possibility of death: he feared it, so much so that his eyes shook with every passing second. He was far away from the home he knew, deep in uncertain territory. He tossed aside the comfort and riches beholden to him in his homeland, all to disprove a stigma that, truthfully, mattered little compared to the influence he wielded. Was it courage, or delusion that allowed him to persevere now? That despite his chattering teeth and sweaty brow, he carried on, stubborn in his will. Lucius desired so dee