Private Tales Back in Black

[Alistair Krixus]

Melissandra Vorain, a former level one Dreadlord who gathered a small contingent of six Dreadlords. Why was she formerly a Dreadlord, well that might be because just last week she had nearly wiped a small village off the face of the map and killed an entire guard unit. She was a renowned assassin for Vel Anir, and now she vowed to turn her blade on the royal family for supposed disrespect in declining her promotion to Archon.

Needless to say, the guard around the Anireth family had been nearly tripled, but sitting and waiting for something bad to happen was not Vel Anir's style. So, in a rare display of cooperation, the Vigilite and the Black Guard to assigned two of their members to work together and remove Melissandra and her party before they could prove to be a problem.

That explained why two individuals, both dressed in all black, were casually riding through the countryside on the way to the ruins of the village of Westwend.

"We should be coming up onto the village soon."

Alistair informed his companion having memorized their travel geography. This was the first time he had ever directly worked with the Black Guard, but they were more than capable of handling this situation. The question was whether just the two of them could apprehend the entire party. If not, then they would just need to ensure that they were able to track the rogues.

Garin Darmarr

 

[Garin Darmarr]

Garin found himself riding in silence for most of the journey, the sound of hooves being background to his thoughts. As the wind whipped his sleek black hair back, he couldn't help but reflect on the data he had been given for this assignment. It was in his nature to remain calm and composed in the face of danger, his mind cool and collected as he analyzed every detail, every possible outcome. A spark of curiosity burned within him. The prospect of collaborating with another dreadlord was uncharted territory for the knight, yet he welcomed the opportunity with an open mind. Despite any potential differences between them, there was an unspoken understanding that both parties were united in their common goal: to protect the interests of the Anirian Territories.

The sun did not seem to faze him as he sat tall in his sleek black armor that encased his entire torso, with the helmet resting securely at the side of his mount. Despite the weather, not a single bead of sweat marred his stoic expression. As Alistair's words filled the air, a tangible silence enveloped the space between them. Gradually, he pivoted his head, shifting to gaze to roam the features of his companion with calculated purpose. He searched for any flicker of emotion in the man’s eye. Working alongside someone of esteemed lineage added another interesting layer to their collaboration. Usually known as a more solitary figure, he still was not oblivious to the happenings of the realm, yet interactions with those of noble blood were a rarity for him; it would be a gentle reminder to keep a heart full of humility and respect.

"How does House Krixus fare these days?" he inquired calmly. While the state of the noble house held little relevance to their shared goal, he suspected that acknowledging it might smoothen the course of their mission. Perhaps, it could even pave the way for a more fruitful partnership. His childhood was a stark contrast to that of a high-born family. While Garin, in contrast, hailed from generations of merchants, a heritage he had never aspired to inherit.

The peaceful period of the last few weeks at Vel Castere had left him feeling almost complacent, a feeling he now welcomed the chance to shake off. His calloused fingers itched to feel the familiar weight of his trusted longsword, and the opportunity to once more prove his mettle.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

In contrast to Garin's heavily armored form, Alistair was wearing simple black leather armor that was covered by a long black coat with the Dreadlord insignia upon it.

Alistair's face was a mask, combined with his blind vision and he often looked like he was oblivious to the world around him, content to lead his horse lead him to where he needed to go. However, his previous statements about there destination implied that he was far more aware than his appearance would have one believe.

His dull grey eyes looked off far ahead, not looking at anything or acknowledging Garin's words. A moment of silence may have implied Alistair did not hear the man, but eventually, he spoke.

"We are busy, but doing well. Business has been good. Although, extended family has found new inspiration for getting...more involved."

In truth, Alistair ran himself ragged managing all the ins and outs of his family. A year or two ago, he could actually manage that but the family had grown to the point that Alistair really should be using others to manage things. However, Alistair was far to stubborn just to give up control of the thing he built.

Garin Darmarr

 

[Garin Darmarr]

As Garin sat atop the mare, he felt the gentle sway of her movements lull him into a contemplative state. With a single hand, he caressed her sleek mane, feeling the connection between man and beast deepening. Her movements were graceful, as though every step were a testament to the trust and loyalty she had shown him during his service in the Black Guard.

As his companion spoke once more, he couldn't help but notice the similarities between their families. Despite his curiosity, he resisted the urge to inquire about the nature of their business, content to let the mysteries of it unravel on its own time.

For a moment he opted to observe the other riders in their group. Each seemed to ride in solitude, perhaps lost in their own thoughts and reflections. From what he gathered, their expressions were undisturbed. It almost as if there was a spoken agreement among them all–there was no need for unnecessary disruption in their journey.

Based on the data he knew and the projected location of the woman, he envisioned that they were not too distant from their target. As time slipped by, he engaged in conversation with Alistair once more, his attention fixed on the path ahead. "I presume Melissandra Vorain will not be surrendering herself willingly for the offenses she has committed," he remarked.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair couldn't help but snort at Garin's comment, a small smile playing on his lips. That would be anticlimactic and a complete waste of his time, but that would be much preferred to what was likely to happen.

"No, Vorain is first-level Dreadlord. She and her rebels will not go down without a fight. Try not to let her touch you. Her talents allow her to manipulate living things and structures, including plants, humans, and animals. Even with your armor, it would be wise not to test her powers...that goes for everyone."

That was why Alistair had been assigned to this mission along with the Black Guard. Both had abilities allowing them to counteract and suppress magic. They needed to suppress Vorain's magics long enough to apprehend her.

Garin Darmarr

 

[Garin Darmarr]

A gentle curve of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. Though brief, it hinted at a possible shared moment of levity before the encroaching dangers and gravity of the situation. A touch of humor often proved to keep the spirits grounded.

Alistrair’s words piqued Garin's curiosity. While he exuded confidence in his own combat skills, the prospect of encountering an opponent with a strong sense of magic gave him a thrill of anticipation; it was an exhilarating prospect for him. Close combat was a familiar comfort in his domain, so the idea of venturing beyond his usual tactics and adapting to a different style of fighting stirred him; a foe that would push him to his limits and potentially force him to explore uncharted territories in combat was a thought he welcomed.

Slender fingers wrapped firmly around the leather reins, feeling the surface beneath his touch. His gaze remained fixed on the path ahead, yet his thoughts wandered to a different realm, envisioning a scenario that lay beyond the visible horizon. It was one of conflict and uncertainty. "How many rebels do you anticipate will be with her?" he inquired, his voice laced with a hint of calculation. The strategic gears were turning quietly in his mind.

Alistair Krixus

 

[Alistair Krixus]

That was less obvious than he would have preferred for mission intel. Who would have thought that a former assassin would be so difficult to track? The Dreadlords keep track of most of their members.

"We are confident that she only has six other lower level Dreadlords, one of the 2nd level and the rest of 3rd or lower. However, it is possible that she may have recruited mercenaries or other normal soldiers to augment her force. I would say no more than twenty, it would be impossible to hide any more soldiers from the Vigilite."

There was one more worry that Alistair was not voicing, primarily because he believed it would not prove to matter. It was possible that Vorain would force any citizens should could find to be used as meat shields. If that proved to be the case, then Alistair would just use a sleep spell or some other containment spell on them at the start of the battle.

"We may be outnumbered, but the qualities of our fighters should balance the situation."

Garin Darmarr

 

[Garin Darmarr]

As he absorbed Allistair's message, his expression remained unchanged, his eyes continuing to betray a sense of determination. Though it was well received, it seemed to have little impact on the Aldric’s steadfast resolve. In that moment, it was clear that nothing could sway his belief in the inevitable outcome that lay ahead.

"Many will meet their fate because of an emotional decision to turn on the royal family." His voice was steady with no hint of doubt. "But, that is the dance of life, no?" he continued, his words lingering in the air. There was a touch of melancholy to them. "Blood has been spilled for lesser sins, I suppose." Garin had accepted the grim reality that lay ahead before ever mounting his steed, as he was familiar with how unforgiving actions could be, often sharp as the edge of the sword he carried.

The mention of the hired mercenaries elicited a slight raise of the knight's brow, a flicker of interest in his impassive expression. To him, they seemed like easy pickings, no more challenging than another day of training in the courtyard. It was the Dreadlords that gave him pause, the only real concern in his mind as he prepared to face the coming storm. "If they remain unaware of our approach, then their end shall be swift," he proclaimed.

Alistair Krixus

 

[Alistair Krixus]

"I doubt we are that lucky."

None of the Dreadlords had any scouting magics like his own, but there were not many that could sneak up on Dreadlords, especially an elite assassin and her own crew. It was more likely that they would be riding into a straight fight. At least, with his own wards and runes, he could ensure that they were not the ones being ambushed.

"The sad part is that I doubt Vorain even cared that much about the Royals. Older Dreadlords have been growing frustrated with the new direction of the Republic. Even if the royal family does not hold as much sway, she likely viewed them as just making a statement."

There was a turn in the road blocking their path forward right before entry into the small town. A few succinct hand motions put the entire party on alert. This would be where an enemy would want to make something happen. The members of the party that were of the Vigilite spread out, some even disappearing altogether.

Garin Darmarr

 

[Garin Darmarr]

Garin acknowledged Alistair's sentiments with a subtle nod of his head. Though well aware of the discontent with the republic that was shared by many, the knight chose to remain at a distance from the waters of politics. For him, the simplicity of his life was in the obedience to his duties and following orders without question. “There’s a possibility it could even be the beginning of a series of similar acts in defiance,” he suggested.

Unconsciously, his hand gave a gentle tug on the reins as he guided the mare and began to slow her pace. He then dismounted and secured the reins to a nearby post. Turning his attention to the helm, he lifted it and settled it upon his head as though practiced countless times. Garin then cast a sidelong glance at Alistair, now feeling the weight of the mission upon his shoulders.

With a fluid motion, his slender fingers closed around the hilt of his longsword, drawing it forth from its leather scabbard. With elegance, he twirled it effortlessly within his grasp, the movements displaying his mastery of the weapon. Each rotation brought a sense of familiarity, as it was certainly a comforting presence in his hand. As their companions bustled about, he chose to remain rooted in his very position, prepared to assist Alistair should the need arise. For now, he was content to follow in the shadow of the Dreadlord, ready to fulfill his duty and lend his sword to the cause.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

That was a very real possibility and a large concern for the Vigilite which was why they were looking to nip this problem in the bud. If they did not remove Vorain quickly enough, eventually stopping her, then there was still a chance that she inspired others to try there hands.

"Better to stop this now."

As Alistair dismounted from his mount, Feldaris, he checked his equipment. There was a simple dueling dagger at his waist along with a sword hilt that lacked a blade.

Once he was satisfied that their formation was intact, he ordered everyone forward. As they turned the corner, there were no targets in sight. That was obvious, as it was unlikely they would be out in the open.

"Garin, when they strike. You're take the front line, while I stay back at first to get a read on the situation. Agreeable?"

Garin Darmarr

 

[Garin Darmarr]

They pressed on towards their destination, each step bringing them closer to their objective. The knight was determined to see the task through to its completion. As Alistair's voice reached his ears, his head turned with deliberate slowness, his eyes meeting the man with silent understanding. A nod was all that was needed.

For him, being on the front line felt both familiar and instinctual, a place where he thrived in battle. Choosing the raw power of melee combat over magic had always been his preference, a decision that defined his very essence as a warrior in the Black Guard.

As he waited, a sense of calm enveloped him, his grip on the sword firm and controlled. Scanning the surroundings, he remained poised, ready for the signal from the Dreadlord. Though Garin was a skilled fighter in his own right, he understood the importance of teamwork, and had no qualms about taking orders from one as esteemed as Alistair. Unity and coordination were necessary for the success of their mission.

Alistair Krixus

 

[Alistair Krixus]

They walked for several minutes, enough to lull a normal party into a sense of safety...smart. It was easy to see that they were dealing with professionals, but...Alistair was a bad match-up for these rebels.

It started as a soft vibration in his own mind when the ward around the party was tripped. It did nothing more than let him know that something with magic had neared him. Instantly, Alistair made the Dreadlord hand signal for 'alert'. He then activated his own vision as his glassy grey eyes softly glowed with a blue light.

The forest that was hiding them was laid bare before Alistair as he quickly spotted the magical signatures of their targets. He spotted them just in time to see a bow lining up to aim at one of the soldiers.

A rune on Alistair's bracer activated as he pulled his arm up and a wall of stone shot up to stop an arrow from skewering one of the party.

"Targets right!"

Those vocalized words ruptured the silence of the moment as everything exploded into action.

Garin Darmarr

 

[Garin Darmarr]

The weight of their mission bore down on him, urging him to stay sharp and focused, no matter the cost. A nagging feeling tugged at his senses, a gut instinct whispering that they were on the brink of a discovery. The rebels were near, he could feel it in his bones

In a swift and unexpected movement, a stone wall emerged from the ground at the edge of his vision, protecting someone in their group from harm as an arrow was deflected. Immediately after he heard Alistair’s commanding voice cut through the air, setting the stage for the confrontation. His presence was surely a comforting force, ensuring their safety, and allowing each step forward to be met with confidence. Garin’s gaze darted to the right, following the path of the Dreadlord’s words as though he were a predator tracking its prey.

Adrenaline surged through his veins, the gleaming black armor feeling as light as a feather. Every motion felt effortless and calculated. Suddenly, one of the mercenaries lunged forward, his weapon raised high for a deadly strike. With a swift movement, the knight lifted his sword, deflecting the blow with ease. Seizing the momentum in his favor, he pivoted to his right and unleashed a powerful strike, the blade slicing through the air before making contact with the man's exposed chest. A deep gash appeared before the mercenary crumpled to the ground.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Every one of their party was a professional and it showed. The battle started off at a stalemate as the rebels used their hidden positions to their advantage, but as time wore on and their positions were revealed, the advantage swung in their favor.

Vorain had hired some mercenaries to assist them, but they were mere annoying flies that the Dreadlords and Blackguard had to keep an eye on. The real battle were against the other rebel Dreadlords who were all skilled combatants.

Alistair played his part without bringing too much attention to himself, using spells to hold down or ward off mercenaries. A large rebel Dreadlord was moving to intercept Garin, but Alistair left the man to do his job. He needed to keep an eye out for Vorain who had still not shown herself. She would have to soon make her move to turn momentum.

Just as he thought that, while the large rebel Dreadlord approached Garin, a figure stepped out of the shadows from a tree behind Garin, the female figure had long black hair with a white streak running down the left side. It was Vorain.

"Garin, behind!"

Vorain would be to quick for Alistair to stop given how close she was, so Alistair turned his attention to the large Dreadlord. A quick spell later had the earth beneath the man's feet turning to sand and slowing him down.

Garin Darmarr

 

[Garin Darmarr]

Amidst the chaos of the ongoing battle, Garin moved with grace and precision. His keen eyes scanned the battlefield, watchful for any signs of the enemy's true intentions. None seemed to be revealed just yet. With each step, he navigated the scene, his sword flashing and deflecting a flurry of attacks from all directions. As he weaved through the different fighters, his movements were fluid, a combination of skill and instinct. The clash of steel and cries filled the air around the Black Guard. In the midst of it all, Garin remained focused.

Soon he caught sight of another target moving swiftly towards him. With grim determination, he planted his feet firmly on the ground, readying himself for the inevitable clash. Suddenly, a voice pierced through the chaos, calling out his name–it was Alistair. He spun around on his heel, his gaze locking onto another figure being revealed. As the first Dreadlord was momentarily stalled in his advance, he seized the opportunity to shift his focus to the enigmatic woman standing before him.

Though magic was not a skill he had mastered, he refused to let that hold him back. With a swift movement, he withdrew one hand from the weight of his sword and raised it before him. A shimmering barrier began to materialize, a translucent shield of energy forming before him like a wall of protection. It hummed with power from his outstretched hand as he braced himself for whatever spell she may cast in his direction. Unfortunately, the shield was limited only to his front.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

The ground beneath the rebel erupted with what looked like sharks made of sand, but with each bite, instead of leaving any mark on the man it left a chain made of earth that binded the man in place. Within seconds the rebel was wrapped in several chains that drug him into the man beneath his feet.

As much as Alistair wanted to jump in and finish that fight, he was still keeping his awareness open to the surrounding battlefield. Vorain's rogue Dreadlords were no slouches as they were all holding their own. Even now, Alistair's opponent was beginning to break free of his bindings.

Vorain, herself, was wielding one long dagger with a free hand that glowed with magic. She struck quickly, clearly showing she was impressed when the barrier held her first attack. Of course, Vorain had her own magic.

A simple shifting of her foot caused all the grass in a straight line heading towards Garin to grow and then suddenly sharpen transforming into green piercing blades that struck up into the air.

Garin Darmarr

 

[Garin Darmarr]

With chaos erupting in a storm of clashing swords and spells between his party and the rebel Dreadlords, he stood grounded, his gaze fixed on the figure of Vorain. The shimmering magic shield in front him had proven its worth, deflecting a deadly attack with a mesmerizing display of light. Yet, he understood with a sense of urgency that the shield's protection would inevitably wane in power against the coming attacks from their enemies.

The blades of grass propelled towards him with unexpected force. With a swift motion, he detected the looming danger from the corner of his eye, observing the other Dreadlord's attempt to break free. Instinctively he reached for the hilt of his sword, disabling the magic shield that once protected him.

Planting his front foot firmly into the earth, he propelled himself backward, barely evading the razor-sharp blades drawing towards him. Garin then pivoted to the side with grace, utilizing the contained Dreadlord as a shield. The lethal blades pierced every inch of the captive's body like a pin cushion.

Crimson blood spurted forth, painting the knight's dark armor. It bought him precious moments, but he knew he needed Alistair's aid, as the distance between himself and Vorain placed him at a distinct disadvantage.

Alistair Krixus

 

[Alistair Krixus]

The rebel Dreadlord broke free of his restraints quicker than expected, but thankfully his companions were not incompetent. Smart footwork led to one rebel being down for the count, but Vorain was already moving to cast some sort of spell and take advantage of the distance.

A dark blue flick of magic came from Alistair's finger, but no response followed until suddenly the magic gathering around Vorain seemed to shutter and then disperse. Vorain's head whipped around before a vicious smile spread across her face.

"Anti-magic, from a Dreadlord? Quaint!"

Vorain still moved quickly as three knives flew at Garin's face before two more appeared in her hands. She moved fast, almost abnormally so as her body moved in an unorthodox, but intense manner.

Garin Darmarr

 

[Garin Darmarr]

The Dreadlord lay crumpled on the ground, the blades of grass that had pierced his skin now stained with his blood. Garin wasted no time in lingering over the fallen enemy. With a quick glance towards Alistair's direction, he saw a flicker of movement as his comrade unleashed a spell against Vorain.

Despite the intensity of the battle, Garin knew he couldn't afford to lose focus on his surroundings. The woman retaliated almost immediately, and his sword was proving to be more of hindrance than help as he tried to keep pace with her.

As the three knives whizzed through the air, he moved with lightning speed to try and evade them. The first sliced through the air just inches from his face. With a swift sidestep, he narrowly avoided the second knife, hearing it whistle past him. But the third knife grazed his cheek in a swift and unexpected motion. A sharp sting was felt as the blade made contact, drawing a thin line of blood. He already saw two more knives in her hand, and for a moment, was considering abandoning his sword to serve as a target, and give Alistair an opportunity to potentially catch her off guard.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair just had to distract Vorain long enough for Garin to get in close. It was here that Alistair's magical knowledge was shown in full force, others had power, but Al had diversity. A barrage of spells followed against Vorain some looking to deal damage, others looking to restrain, others causing some sort of hindrance or debuff.

No spell followed the same pattern or element as the last as Vorain frowned in focus to defend herself. If dealing with the average Dreadlord was just weathering a torrent of water, dealing with Alistair was trying to stop a small amount of water, but if not watched carefully would always slip between the gaps in a defense.

To make matters more annoying, on nearly every other spell, Vorain's magics would slow or fizzle. Never completely stopping a spell but causing the spell to start a second later.

A scream later an the barrage ended as another rebel finally recognized the danger that was Alistair and ran to confront him.

Vorain spat on the ground as she turned to a closing Garin, "You have annoying friends."

Garin Darmarr

 

[Garin Darmarr]

The sword was feeling like nothing more than useless weight as he faced off against Vorain. With his opponent's swift speed and mastery of magic, the blade was rendered ineffective in the Black Guard’s hands. It wasn't the physical burden of the weapon that troubled him; rather, what he understood was that having his hands available was crucial for him to deftly navigate and confront the Dreadlord.

With a swift motion, he released the object from his firm grip, his gaze unwavering as he honed in on his target. Despite the weight of the ebony armor covering his body, his movements were surprisingly agile, gliding through the air with a speed that defied the heavy attire. Garin's eyes caught a flicker of movement from the corner, alerting him to someone approaching Alistair. He was confident knowing he could handle the threat on his own.

Approaching Vorain, he disregarded her taunts, his left hand curling into a tight fist. Closing in on striking range, he executed a deceptive maneuver last second, a feint to hopefully distract the Dreadlord's defenses. With power, he unleashed a forceful blow at his target, aimed to hinder and disorient her.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Vorain was a thin woman, looking as if she belonged in some laboratory more than any battlefield. Which was why when Garin made contact with her she went flying...except she didn't. At least, a part of her body went flying, the fist that made contact with her stomach made the entire stomach shoot back, but the body twisted abnormally and elongated. Vorain's feet were still planted and the head remained in the same place.

"You like my trick. I can mess with my body as well."

She struck out at him, her right arm extended and twisting acting more like a whip than any fist.

Now that Garin was finally within reach, Alistair turned his sites on the other Dreadlord. The rebel had gotten too close, so Alistair did not bother with spells, instead withdrawing his runesaber. The magical arcane blade appeared before him as he began his own battle.

Garin Darmarr

 

[Garin Darmarr]

For a split second, he believed the cross he threw to be enough to be successful, though that would have been wishful thinking. The sight before him was surreal, unlike anything else he had seen before. The Dreadlord's figure appeared to have some sort of grotesque distortion. It was a chilling sight.

As the counter attack approached, he instinctively raised his left arm from his side in a defensive gesture, bracing himself for the impact. His muscles tensed under the black armor. Despite successfully blocking the blow, the sheer force behind it jolted him, causing an imbalance. The intense exchange caused the first trickle of sweat to form on his brow.

He knew he had to change tactics. Again. Allowing her to use magic against him from a distance was a risk he could not afford to take. In a decisive move, he propelled himself forward, the bulk of his armor feeling light as he closed the distance between them. His plan was to wrestle and bring Vorain to the ground, intent on overpowering her by utilizing his strength and skill.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Vorain did not want to get into a contest of strength with Garin, which was why she freely sent spells at him from a distance, as many as she could muster before he got into range. It was quickly apparent that he had the advantage in strength, but her strange physicality made her difficult to grab and grapple. Her body would bend in the places it shouldn't, or become resilient in other places typically meant as weaknesses.

It would seem that while Vorain's specialty was changing the physical structure of biological matter, she had more than enough practice on herself to make her a worthy close-quarters combatant.

Alistair's own battle was progressing how he wanted it to. The other Dreadlord had spent the majority of his time on the attack, but he only had a health a few injuries to Alistair. Instead, Alistair was breathing comfortably while the other man's breath was growing heavier.

The runic eyes along his armor glowed with white light as Al took in the battlefield around him. They were winning. The two most dangerous combatants were being slowed down by Al and Garin, while the remainder of there party was beginning to push back the remaining rebel Dreadlords.

Garin Darmarr