Dreadlords From The East

[Ademar Acero]

From the east, a violent wind gusts at the frontier of the great Republic of Vel Anir​

Edge of Falwood
Easter Vel Anir Frontier​

He had done what no other Siruk Warlord ever dared of. Riding east of Allir Reach, further until they crossed Falwood and intrude territories of elven scum. Even after his days of leaving Vel Anir he still carried his extreme prejudice towards elves. Ademar, however, did no ride so far to prey on a race he viewed as lesser. No, he came for something more worthy to destroy and conquer than feeble elves.

Vel Anir.

A place once called home, but was cast away after the revolution and ushered a new age that did not welcome a savage like him. After that tragedy he rode west until he reunited with his people, assimilating with a culture that was his but long forgotten to his own conscious. Ademar’s tales of Vel Anir intrigued his people. Men in iron bodies, great ships atop of the sea, magnificent warriors that could collapse walls, and other wonders from distant land. Curiosity became desires as they all dreamed of visiting this land and testing their might to see how true the tales of Ademar’s were.

But for Ademar…was it revenge, pride, or glory that called him to set ablaze Vel Anir? It was a combination of all three.

Days ago the first raid of many came when they stormed a small settlement on its frontier. Most were slaughtered with the exception of few that were related to royalty. One noble lady from the House of Sirl as he recognized the sigil. She and her servants were spared, but the rest of the population was killed. After taking whatever valuables the entire town was consumed by fire and the marauders rode off to find another town, leaving ashes from their wake.

And now they had come across a new settlement with a cloud of dust as Siruk barbarians on horseback raced towards their prize. Their presence was noted, but could the town weather the storm?

 

[Houri]

Houri was practically vibrating with excitement atop her dappled grey horse. It was a fine thing with a strong, arching neck and legs that spoke of speed. From her fathers stables, or so her sister had said. A sister who had seemed so worried and who had felt the need to flower her in gifts and things she could use when returning to the Academy, like she thought Houri might break and if she did, that she might take the world with her.

The world she had returned to was nothing like the one she had left five years ago. The kingdom she had loved, the institution she would have died for, it was all gone. Replaced with a version that Houri did not recognise. She walked the same streets, slept in the same room as she had years ago, but none of it felt real. None of it felt like home. She had wondered often if she would have felt more of a homecoming if she had returned to Vel Anir in ashes.

But the confusions and stresses of this new order aside, Houri was simply glad to be back. Back here. Back doing what she had been born to do.

Kill things, Ahdvi murmured in delight.

No, to help people, Mithrine chided with surprising coolness to her tone.

Houri shook her head to shut them both up and the sun above beat down upon the town below. Roof tops were aflame and tiny figures could be seen looting, pillaging and worse.

"Can we go now?" she pleaded to the two women either side of her.

 

[Evangeline]

Years had passed. A revolution had swept through a nation that Evangeline had thought would never change in her lifetime. Yet some things never changed. They just modified their approach.

When Evangeline had heard the reports of a shaved-headed brute leading a barbarous force from the east, ransacking Vel Anir's borders, she didn't want to believe that he could be back, that he would be so bull-headed as to return. But this was Ademar Acero they were speaking of, and of course he was exactly that bull-headed. So brazen and foolish as to wage war on what was once his home, after narrowly escaping with his life last time. After brawling with Evangeline to a bloody standstill.

Eva silently cursed that she had not been strong enough to finish the bastard off the last time. Her heart simply had gone cold to the war around her back then. Neither she nor Ademar could figure out what they were even doing at the time, after what had felt like a straight hour of trying to kill each other and failing. All that Eva had been left with was a limp that her magic could not skip her body through. She had been thankful for the opportunities that opened up for her afterwards, as a proctor, as a guide to the future generations of her home...but now?

When she'd heard the news, she was among the first to volunteer to cut the head from the snake. These foreign savages had not dared cross Vel Anir before, and without the foolhardy encouragement of what must have been Ademar, surely they would falter and retreat once more. A kidnapped noble was just extra motivation to put the beast down, once and for all. Eva's history in dealing with the brute Acero made her a shoe-in for the mission.

Now she stood in the wake of the barbarians' destruction, following a trail that could never go cold.

"Can we go now?"

Houri's words broke Eva from her brief stupor. She looked to the girl. Another product of the Academy's disgusting methods. She wondered if Ademar was the same, or if he'd always been such a massive fucking pain in the neck.
"Indeed, we should. We're not here to play riot control, nor to break an army."

It was unfortunate, but it was the truth. Taking the time to deal with civil unrest or stop every raider would cost the group of them valuable time and energy that they needed for the task at hand. She only hoped that this time it would be enough.

 

[Elspeth Sirl]

What they had initially thought to be her servants had later been revealed to be simply citizens of the previous town. Much to Elspeth's horror, this meant their lives were forfeit. She did not know what became of them, but the sickened pit in her stomach told her it was nothing good. That had been a day ago, before the long gallop across the lands that brought them to the next town. She'd lost track of where they were, but that hardly mattered considering the nature of the group that now held her captive.

No matter where it was they went, it seemed they intended to destroy everything and leave nothing behind.

"This is madness," the silence of the red-haired captive finally broke, "what good does any of this do for you? For anyone? Killing innocents? Or do you just wish to see the world burn?"

She did not yet know just exactly who it was that lead this band of barbarians. Elspeth had not been present in Vel Anir during the Revolution, but instead safely in Dornoch finishing her medical studies and doctoral degree. That he was a former Dreadlord, or that he had any fame or infamy at all remained a total unknown. What she did know? He was vicious and without mercy. He'd spared her only for the sight of her family's sigil on her cloak and the giveaway of her red hair.

The fact that she could doctor his and his mens wounds was only an added bonus for him and perhaps one of the only things that would save her from his ire now that she'd worked up the words to yell at him.

 

[Aisling Weiroon]

When the orders had come down for a detachment to address a barbarian mob that was threatening the border Aisling had gladly accepted that it would delay her own mission. Inspecting the situation on the fringes of Anirian territory was boring, sure, but as the newest head of House Weiroon sometimes she had to do things herself. Ensure that their house's interests were still safe.

And all would've been fine, she would've simply waited until the Guard had put whatever rabble was burning villages and townships down.

It all changed though when the most recent missive arrived. Elspeth Sirl had been captured. The girl had been betrothed to her dear younger brother Olvir and that made Elspeth family. This had immediately become a rescue operation that Aisling needed to see to personally.

"We find her and then we leave." Aisling looked over at the only two Dreadlords who were available to aid her on this mission. One initiate, not even a fully fledged Dreadlord, and the other was a washed up cripple who'd become a Proctor. "No time to delay."

They couldn't afford to wait for reinforcements though. Wait for more prestigious Dreadlords or the Black Guard. A retired corsair, a starry-eyed student, and a Proctor with a limp would have to suffice if they were to save Elspeth's life.