Private Tales A Little Boom

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer

Lydia

Guardian
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23
Character Biography
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House Strand had been loyal not just to Sirl but to the entirety of Vel Anir’s old ways. It’s what made the rise of this new republic so grotesque. It’s why many of the other houses profiting from the dwarven caravans that had recently cropped up was so offensive.

Some of these houses that both Strand and Sirl had once called allies now enriched themselves off the blood of the fallen heroes of the Great Houses. Fattened their purses from the sale of dwarven crafted goods. It was abhorrent.

Maritza Strand had been clear. Not only were they to put an end to the traders who came most frequently, they were going to send a message.

For weeks now House Strand had petitioned the republic calling into question whether or not the proper permits had been filed or some other such bureaucratic nonsense. All while Humanity First spread the word of how dangerous and risky it was to allow these dwarves, who were likely terrorists and miscreants, to parade around the city. Unfortunately these efforts hadn’t swayed public opinion enough and the republic, feckless as ever, refused to put an end to the influx of the trinkets the dwarves peddled.

So, now it was time for an alternative path.

Lydia was certain it would all be quite easy to pull off. A few hired grunts to handle the large explosive keg while she distracted, or simply killed, any potential witnesses.

There was one small problem with the plan however. It required her to watch after the pipsqueak. ”Boy,” she said whilst casting a sideways glance towards the Sirl spawn, ”do you have the stomach for this kind of work?”

Elias
 
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How exactly Elias found himself tied up with House Strand again was beyond him. The Elven Quarter incident had settled itself somehow, without any substantial losses for any involved parties.

Arms crossed, the Initiate watched with quiet intensity as the goons scuttled about their work. Not that he was paying them mind. He was daydreaming, recalling his most recent visit to the brothels when a pair of shady men had barged in to retrieve him. Guardsmen? Proctors? He'd found himself too deep in a pile of tangled limbs to even think of asking.

But it was his day off, he'd complained.

"And do you have the faculties to see your work done?" Elias retorted, knowing sure and well that the First did.
 
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Lydia let a laugh escape her lungs. The spoiled boy from Sirl thought he was special because he had to go through the academy while most of his kin sat around sipping tea and dining on veal.

Strand had served Sirl loyally for generations and as soon as the tide turned during the revolution Sirl capitulated. They waited to make that decision only after Lady Strand's parents and brother had already been slain. The least the surviving whelps of Sirl could do was lend aid for Maritza's grand vision.

"I think you'll find I'm more than capable."

By the time they were through here there'd be a few dead dwarves and a large crater just outside of Vel Anir proper. "We keep them," she pointed a thumb over her shoulder to the workers carrying the explosive, "safe and we make sure that once we detonate that thing we slaughter every last dwarf in that caravan before they can whine to the bureaucrats in the central tower."
 
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Arms folded, Elias tapped a finger on his bicep as his mind became racked with conflict. What was about to unfold was criminal and ethically dubious. But, there was much to gain.

"Aye," He grimly answered.

The sun had long since set, and it was imperative they accomplish the task quickly. Outside the city's great walls, the Guard would be slow to respond to a disturbance in the non-human ward that made up this portion of Vel Anir's slums.

"We'd best be off, then."
 
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Off they would be as Lydia let a sharp whistle pass between her lips. The workers hauled the explosive barrel as the fully seasoned Dreadlord and the academy whelp escorted them.

Before long there was little noise aside from the crickets and the occasional screech of bats.

Until, of course, they heard the raucous sound of dwarven merchants laughing and cajoling.

”There,” Lydia whispered to Elias. No witnesses and distract long enough for the explosion to go off. Simple enough.
 
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They'd snuck up on the dwarven camp from where the wagons had been parked for the night. Come morning, it would've been in the city proper, and they'd be pushing their goods in Anir Square. Well, were it not for this plot. From the darkness where they lurked, Elias hunched over and got to where he could see the source of all the jolly.

"Fuckin' hell," he whispered back, "I've never seen a dwarf before."

Elias squinted and grimaced. They were terribly ugly, with their stubby limbs and piggish features.

He glanced over his shoulder as a pair of muscled goons carefully set the barrel down next to a wagon, then tipped it over to roll it underneath.

"Alright then," he turned his attention back to the merchants. In a low hiss, he whispered to the First, "That's it, then? Why'd you waste my time getting me for this if it was that easy?"
 
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"Ugly little cretins, aren't they?" She said in response to Elias. A finger pointing towards the dimly lit features of the bearded little gremlins.

The explosives were set and the pieces had all fallen into place. Maritza would get exactly what she wanted, a bit of fear amongst the commonfolk in regards to the dangerous sub-species that now walked the streets of Vel Anir.

But then the pipsqueak opened his mouth once more and Lydia came crashing back to reality.

"First of all, we aren't finished yet." She held up a second finger and added, "secondly, House Sirl's involvement in this matter is necessary." If for no other reason than to ensure House Strand wouldn't be outed for manufacturing a terrorist plot.

In a few seconds a gigantic explosion could be heard for miles. The night sky briefly lit up as if it were half past noon. The dwarves not engulfed in the fireball scrambled around in terror. "Now we eliminate the witnesses."

A smirk engulfed Lydia's face as she drew her claymore and began to walk towards the dwarven encampment.
 
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