Legends of Belariath

Sutara

The Web of Lillia (Quest) Part 2

Visitor’s to Nanthalion

Somewhere just outside of Nanthalion…

The time was getting closer, but still their orders had been to wait, so they did. Reynard could see the impatience in his men's eyes, the look of hunger and eagerness, though for most, the waiting was merely another day to prepare themselves.

Nanthalion itself would find itself inundated with quite a few new faces; they always moved in groups, heavily armored with leather and plate, greased and lye stiffened hair pulled back from broad human and half-breed skulls. Some had vicious dogs whose maws were lathed in spit, pulling at their leashes at passerbies whilst the owners laughed and barked as loudly as their pets. Others moved on great destriers, hooves pounding the cold and wet earth, sending mud flying in every direction with little care as to who they might carelessly run over.

They milled inside the Inn, purchased enough sharp and refined blades from the MMR to make a WarLord wet; yet never lingered, consistently moving East just outside the city itself. Their camps were well hidden, their fires banked and what trails they left expertly wiped clean from the woods.

But at night, surrounded by their fighters, clutching woman who wielded as deadly a sword as them, the men shouted and sang, deep in the dense wood where that sound itself was quickly absorbed the farther one wandered from their center.

"To arms, to arms! For Mehrial and Gold, to Arms! We'll kill all their sheep, we'll steal all their food, and when the fires burn clean, naught left but their necks that we'll break. To arms! Down with the Fire Mage! Aye! Aye! Aye!"

The first complaint to hit the Reeve’s desk had been about a cow, of course a cow had raised her brow and curled her lip – but to the farmer that cow had been a good cow, a faithful cow. Oh hell, it was a cow; yet it had been found butchered at the edge of the man’s land, just to the east of Nanthalion, a case of poaching that was not unusual in this part of the Empire.

The second, and third, and fourth did more than just raise her brow. Did someone happen to know an election was in the midst, she wondered? Sitting at her desk with scrolls that ranged from barely legible (you can’t expect them to be literate) to nearly a whole book’s worth of scathing diatribe of how this was being handled.

It seemed that more than one house hold was being bullied by passing fighters, rough men they said (as though that was out of the norm) with thick accents from the north, numerous weapons and hair that could stand on end. One man reported theft, another vandalism – they were sporadic it seemed, but the longer the week went on, the more began to inundate that small, new and well kept office just inside Town.

The following day, a slave came in, wringing her hands, speaking of how they had come and taken her Mistress and the other slaves forcefully out from their Adobe home. There was nothing else she said, sobbing, it had all been burnt when the soldiers had moved on. It left a foul taste in her mouth, taking the girl to the ISA offices for care until her Mistress was brought back.

She knew where the incidents were happening, tracing a line along a single road that lead north east, circling the area in which the complaints had come from. Then, forcing expression from her face, she would write one of the last reports (or so she wondered) to the Emperor and his Consort, with her concerns and observations.

The vehicle was pulled by a pair of black thoroughbreds, heavy muscled beasts whose eyes seemed to glow grim red, their hooves tearing at the earth. They pulled the carriage over ruts and divots, its windows veiled by thick velvet curtains, obscuring what light from the setting sun tried to piece the interior. Its driver was a small man, human by a single look, though most of his features were obscured by heavy scarf and hat. Inside, the occupant shifted his weight against the softness of the bench cushion, a dark skinned hand briefly lifting to pull back the veil, to peer outside.

“So, this is the Empire’s capitol? It’s so.. different.” rouged lips pursed, those amber pools of color shifting out across the fields they passed, to the buildings that were fast coming into focus the closer they came. It was not the first time he had been on the surface, it would not be the last, but those other incidents, those other times – well, they were not something to think about, he mused, smoothing ringed fingers down the silk of his linen skirts, pulling the lapels of his robes closer against his chest.

“… This is going to be so much fun..” Carsi spoke out loud, clapping his hands before he settled back once more, feeling the seesawing motion of the conveyance as they sped closer and closer to the Town.

The Pawn takes the Knight

They had decided it would be nice to get a drink and some food, maybe a wench or two. There were five of them, all quite confident in themselves, each quite taken with something or someone around them.

Particularly their leader, a lieutenant who had noticed one of the occupants, and that said occupant had noticed and recognized him. It really was unfortunate, but, there had been seriously little in the way of stopping him when he took her, when he had made the suggestion that, despite her protest, there was little to be done.

They hadn't technically broken anything, though a few might have gotten into a scuffle or two - certainly the Shaman and Drak-Sen could testify to that with their injuries.

Thats what they would tell Reynard, right before they explained why keeping the one known as Hannah, who yes, was a Noble's mate, was actually a good idea.

Everything paid in the end, right?

Just a few days later..

It didn't take long for the word to spread, a Noble's mate had been kidnapped; trackers sent out from Nanthalion to further investigate the where abouts of their camps and hide outs. That small group reported back, they had found evidence of the where about of the camps, but that it looked like an attack was being mounted against the Grand Inquisitor Scathien's home. It was insult to injury, with over three dozen men surrounding the tower, catapults hurling fiery boulders into the Noble's lawn, his wife strung up against a pole, set in a wagon as a shield for the dozen or so foot soldiers.

Reynard had been explicit in his commands, sending only a few forward to confront the Noble once his attention had been gained, among those to confront was the Lieutenant who had taken Hannah with little care from the Inn.

Scathien erupted into a fury, as others trickled in from the woods, several of whom were Imperial Guards themselves, acting quickly to try and assist the Noble by sabotaging the catapults and draw attention from the Captain and mercenaries. The little slave thria quickly assisted Hannah in loosening her bonds, as the wagon itself erupted in flames, and both ducked and dodged flying arrows.

Stormwind confronted the Captain, though it seemed both had been on equal footing, barely landing a blow until the slave gwyneth assisted her Master in gaining an upper hand. Rhia worked by thinning out the soldier ranks, as later on, Karram, Mina, the IG Captain Alta Nova as well as Kylara rushed in to finish most of what remained off.

In the end, the Lieutenant was felled by both Scathien and Hannah, surrounded by a group of scattered, charred bodies. Reynard had ordered a full two-thirds of the group to scatter and disperse, as they moved back to their hidden camps where leadership would fall to their third-in-command.

Reynard and a minor archer had both been overwhelmed, taken prisoner by the Imperial Guard and citizens who were there.

There was still a large portion of the mercenary group out there, forced into hiding, but not nearly done. The motive behind their attack remains unclear, as they gained nothing more than dead soldiers and wariness from the City to which they had infiltrated. Just what exactly where they up to?

Meanwhile, across town, just outside the Unigo Tower..

Those fucking blighters had nearly ruined everything, he thought, listening to the gossip as he lingered just inside the Inn. It was late, he could still smell the acrid stench of the burning bodies and lawn that had still littered the Noble's lawn, still so fresh from that pathetic attempt they called an attack. Still, if he acted now, there was still a good chance that Scathien had not returned to the Unigo Tower.

Shifting the collar of his cloak up higher, he let those dark lidded eyes drift out across the occupants of the Inn, pulling down the sleeves of his tunic before he stood and made his way outside.

He pointedly ignored the carriage that was coming through town, recognizing the heavy draped curtains and the deceptive lack of crest. Moriel did not enter into a foreign city proclaiming themselves. No matter if visiting or permanently relocated.

The night as his blanket, he counted his steps as he circled the outside of town, twisting and shifting his position, like a fox retracing his steps until anyone following might grow dizzy. Then he slipped into the dense forest that surrounded the Tower, a hand coming against the pendant that dangled from his throat, feeling the assurance of its power.

He didn't want to do this; treason and robbery was not exactly those things that earned you brownie points with an Empire, but he held no other choice, a rude sound made as he crouched on his haunches and waited.

The torches on the outside dimmed, and just when he thought no one would come, he saw a group of young Mages flocking to the entrance. He smiled grimly, slipping from his hiding place to step just behind them, blending in with an almost seamless ability while the whole of them moved inside.

Once inside, he acclimated himself to the different energy levels that flowed and coursed around him; most foreign, making him shudder, but instead he opened himself to the weaving of different patterns, finding the ones that proclaimed certain levels locked unless a certain entity of power entered. Those he followed, his one and only skill coming in the way he could see their bend, and manipulate them to move beneath undetected. A thief, if you will, carefully moving beneath a system of almost oppressive magic, until he reached the Headmaster's own office.

It was empty, that much he was happy with, closing the door behind him with a soft click of the lock. Then he moved towards the shelves and the locked cabinets, trying to listen to those myriad of whispers that called to them from behind their locks and wards.

"Shh.. yes, where are you darling.. Ahh.. there.." his hand passed over one such cupboard, whispering words, expelling the time and energy it would cost in dislodging the spell that had been cast over it. Nothing easy this, as layers of magic had to be delicately uncovered to even get inside the dark opening. Now, done, hissing in please, before he slipped from inside his belt the lock picks, converting to the fundamental skill of his back ground to dislodge the heavy mechanism inside the door, a brief and impressive smile covering his tawny features when the door swung open.

Inside, the tome itself was large, a glint of red shining almost like a beacon from the intricate sigil that was embedded in the top of the leather binding. The Grimoire of T'lith, its descent of high elven ancestry. It practically throbbed with power, spells and maps inside having been locked up for so long. He almost coo'd, the relic itself having been locked up for so long, but no one of his line of business could mistake its need to be released from this dungeon they called a Tower of Magic.

Eagerly he wrapped the Book in oiled leather, then slipped that into a sack that could be hidden beneath his cloak. Taking one last look around, he closed the cupboard, not bothering to replace the wards as he moved back to the door. In his rush to leave, he did not bother to close or relock the door, but he moved quickly through the levels of the Tower, blending both as yet another student within its walls, and the shadows of the corners to ease by unseen.

Once free, he looked back once to the Tower, before he patted the sack at his hip, quickly moving off to the woods.

He needed to relocate what was left of the mercenary group, and plan their next move.

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