Fate - First Reply [Character Intro] From Whence She Came

[Anyra]

Allir Keep, Alliria, 370AC

"Anyra, get your arse to the captain's quarters. He wants to speak with you." The man had to crane his neck to look up at Anyra. Even for a Komodo, she was tall. Her stature as a person, however, was in juxtaposition with her stature within society. Clearly being bossed around and bullied by her peer was amusing to the other guards who seemed to get rather quiet when she looked their way.

"Should I remind you that your rank is lower than mine since last week's ceremony," a smirk crossed her face. "Or do you remember your demotion as well as I do?" She didn't give the man the dignity of a response before leaving his presence. She left a wake in the crowd of merchants gathering in the halls for the day's congregation; her size alone was enough to clear the crowd ahead, she needed not say a word of apology, least of all to those who sneered at her along the way.

Outside the captain's quarters, her sabatons were more than enough to announce her presence. In spite of this, she still knocked at the door with her right hand, the rap of her steel gauntlet making sure everyone in every room of this corridor knew she wanted in.

"Blasted— I'M COMING ANYRA!" The captain opened the door a few moments later, clearly embarrassed by her obnoxious display of posturing. "Why must you always be so loud about entering my quarters?" The tone of voice with which the captain spoke was as though a mentor to their pupil. Anyra offered no response, stoic as usual. "No matter. Anyra, I wanted to speak with you about the merchant congregation today. Tonight a celebration will be held in the private wing of the keep, in honor of an announcement to be made. Most of the rich type are already aware, but we need our biggest there to keep the undesirables out. Am I heard?"

She nodded, offering no verbal response. This was about as much as he could ask for, and he knew that by now. "This is an opportunity for you. We'll show the others that a Komodo is capable of proper etiquette, and most importantly: keeping them safe." He patted her on the shoulder, which took almost his entire arm's extension to reach. "You'll do great, I believe in you. You didn't get that accolade for nothing." He said, pointing to an ornament on her waist that was decorated with traditional Allirian colors representing strength and valor. She nodded to him and turned to leave. "One day, Anyra. One day I'll get more than a nod when you're grateful."

It's true, she was grateful. She was grateful for the opportunity, but she was grateful for his consideration. He had long been one of the few people in her life—even with regard to her family—who truly believed in her abilities as a person.

Entering into the main assembly where the merchants, various rich barons, and all their guards (mercenary or otherwise) had gathered, she took her place near the back entrance. The congregation quieted down as they settled in for the assembly. There was a moment of peace before one of the barons stood up to begin the assembly.

It was then that a crossbow bolt shattered through the glass of one of the many grandiose windows, connecting with the throat of the baron. Everything and everyone was thrown into disarray as two bands of mercenaries burst in through all entrances, corralling the congregation into a large circle. Many of the Keep Guards were killed fighting back, but Anyra took a stand. She stood—not quite alone—outside the circle and held her claymore at the ready.

With her were a few mercenaries hired by the other barons and merchants. One of whom was of particularly interesting character...

 

[Keldorn]

It wasn't often that Keldorn found himself aiding Lords and Barons. To be honest, he found most of them repulsive. They postured and fret about created more issues for their people with ill regard. So when that bolt hit the Baron and killed him, Keldorn couldn't help but smile as karma finally caught up with the man.

That enjoyment would end when the doors to the hall burst open, being one of the minor men called into the meeting, he would be closest to the door. The fact that the Guard were being overrun in the Capital City did not bode well for the image of the country. Especially with them being mere mercenaries.

His blade would sing free of it's scabbard in a smooth motion while the other hand unbuckled the clasp of his cloak and shrugged the garment free. He then took his blade in a two-handed grip and lifted it heavenward t o block the incoming strike. "Blessed are they who stand before the corrupt and the wicked and do not falter." he mused before ducking low to slice the mercenary across the abdomen and step past him to the next foe.

"Blessed are they who use the holy flame to burn away the wicked." He chanted as he lunged forward, thrusting his blade into the chest of another, just between the plates of their armor. His boot would lift to shove the corpse off of his weapon as he now blocked the doorway, the space beyond teeming with foes. "Blessed are the Vigilant, the champions of the just." As he uttered the last line of his prayer, his blade would engulf in flames. All sins were to be burnt away.

Anyra

 

[Anyra]

It's true. A moment of falter like this in the Keep's security had to come from somewhere within. It was all the more evident as such when the remaining guards came to the realization that reinforcements were not on their way. There was a conspiracy afoot, it was clear now.

There was not a lot of time to consider the implications and the possibilities, however, as Anyra was quickly engaged by two of the mercenaries. She heard the chant of the other some distance away while she made quick work of them. A wide sweep of her claymore was enough to vivisect both at once. "Some prayer that is!" She yelled to the man over the ruckus of combat.

Looking through one of the doorways, she could see one more group of mercenaries headed in, but past them was no one more. A relatively small group for overtaking an entire Keep. Whoever was behind this, clearly didn't intend to hold the Keep or even take the entire thing under their control. Was this just a sloppy assassination? She thought to herself. It wasn't unlikely, lords were not known for being the best assassins—usually they outsourced that job to professionals.

No time for thinking, more mercenaries closed in around her, more than she could handle with just a quick swipe of her blade. She was going to need help to get out of this one. She looked over her shoulder toward where the man with the flaming blade had been, hoping for some salvation.

Keldorn

 

[Keldorn]

He could see fear in the first mans eyes as his blade engulfed in flames, so much so that he slowed in his charge, forcing a jam of sorts as those behind collided with him and urged him forward. They were right to be afraid. The time of judgement had come and though the Baron they assassinated may not have been, there were surely those innocent of anything that lay amongst the dead. It was for their souls that their foes would be weighed and measured.

One swing of his blade would trap the fear for all time, framing it as the head flung back into the group behind him, some of the flames from the blade flashing outward to keep the mercenaries at arms length. Finishing the swing, he would bring the blade back the other way, this time one-handed as the free hand grabbed a small vial from his belt and flicked it into the group. The pop of the glass would splash the first three in oil, which would quickly ignite with the second swing of the blade.

The scent of burning flesh and the screams of the wicked would fill the chamber, before he turned to where the other form was fighting. The flames would keep this group busy as they tried to put their friends out and the remaining guards could seize their panic and at least hold the gate. Hopefully.

Keldorn quick-stepped and lunged his blade forward, piercing a mercenary that been poised to strike Anyra while she looked back to the Paladin. "The night is darkest just before the dawn.." he would muse to the woman as he pushed the blade deeper into the mans midsection. "..but the light will always shine upon the blessed and the Sacred Flame will guide their hand." He then twisted his blade and wrenched it free. "This is for flair. A distraction." It appeared that this would be the beginning to a very long night.

Anyra

 

[Anyra]

"Ah, I see. An effective distraction nonetheless." She gestured to the escaping lords and merchants. "You'll have to tell me about that sword when this is over." But as she said this, another group of mercenaries began stopping the lords and merchants at their chosen exit.

I suppose it was foolish to assume they would only double up on the one doorway. She thought. She started making her way toward the other side of the room, where the exit was being blocked. Along the way, a couple mercenaries attempted to tackle her without much in the way of results. Deciding against killing them if she didn't have to, she pummeled them over the head until they were unconscious and let them drop to the floor.

Raising her claymore, she swung down on a mercenary that had decided it would be a good idea to charge the nearly seven foot tall hulk. The fire had begun to spread among the room, poorly contained by the chaos. Smoke began to fill the room from the high ceiling, but was gathering quickly. "You wouldn't happen to have a prayer about water, would you?" She called from across the room, still fighting a few mercenaries.

Keldorn

 

[Keldorn]

Definitely a distraction. Smoke was building but it wasn't from the flames of his sword. Magic fire didn't have that effect nor was the flame of his weapon able to affect non-organic material.. Even the small oil wouldn't change that aspect. "They're trying to fire the keep."

His free hand would drop to his repeating hand crossbow and once primed he would aim it heavenward and after some adjustment pull the trigger. The first bolt would break a window near the top, the second would find another. Within seconds, the smoke would billow outward and reduce the threat of smoke.

He then leveled it towards their enemies and pulled the trigger again, firing a third bolt just over Anyra's shoulder and right between the eyes of a man charging her. His forth favorite sight, was watching the mechanism tick and reload the bolt for him, a lovely dwarven creation from his forge. The four would then flick free of the crossbow and shoot another enemy farther from them. "The stone won't burn. So once it runs out of fuel, it will starve and die. If you're concerned, make sure they aren't starting them everywhere. I can hold this room." He would say back to the tall woman as he holstered his hand crossbow.

Anyra

 

[Anyra]

Anyra had to find an excuse other than whether or not she felt concerned about the Keep burning to the ground, but she did find one. Her career. It was hard to captain for a force that didn't exist, so she would never make it there if she let the fires get out of control. Bursting through a wall of mercenaries, she found herself in the corridors outside the assembly.

To her left, no fires—only more mercenaries. To her right, no fires...more mercenaries. It hit her a bit too late that bursting out away from the main group of fighters was a bad idea. She held her claymore in a tail guard stance, as if it were a longsword, and prepared for a hell of a fight. In spite of her stature, in spite of her skill—in spite of everything she had worked for up until now—this was a fight she might not win.

A crossbow bolt plinked off her pauldron, leaving a sizeable dent. Despite the pauldron's sturdy design, a crossbow had too much power to leave it unscathed. As the bolt twirled through the air, arcing up and beginning to fall, she lunged forward and halved a mercenary by the doorway she had exited through. Another took the opportunity to swipe at her with a shortsword, which she caught in her right hand. The full metal gauntlet she wore allowed her to absorb the impact and what leather there was underneath protected her from being cut too badly.

The crossbow bolt hit the floor.

Twisting the sword out of his grip, she tossed it to the side and swung her claymore once more, ending him. Ultimately, however, there were too many. One sword connected with the hilt of her claymore and caused her to drop it, disarming her. Opening her mouth, a jet of venom sprayed forth which was ignited by her glands. A Komodi firebreathing technique, perhaps uncouth for a Keep Guard but nonetheless effective at keeping them back. A few were caught by the venom and took flame. The others gathered around her like a cornered animal and isolated her from the rest of the fight.

"Hey fire sword! Got a minute over there?" She yelled into the room. From her point of reference, it appeared not many mercenaries remained within, most were outside now attempting to keep the rabble inside with the fire.

Keldorn

 

[Keldorn]

"The Sacred Flame has weighed your sins.." Keldorn mused to the final mercenary in the main hall. He held the man's head between both his hands. For the innocent, Judgement was no harmful thing. But for the wicked, it was the sealing of their fate.

The mercenary screamed in pain as the skin around Keldorns gauntlets began to cook and burn. ".. and found you wanting.." Keldorn would remove his hands and the mans near toasted head would connect with the stone floor.

"Hey fire sword! Got a minute over there?"

Keldorn would turn to the source of the voice, one hand pulling his had crossbow free from its holster. There would be a quick expulsion of the drum that held the four bolts before he replaced it. Pleased with it, he would head for where the Komodi had been, pulling his still ignited sword free from another body.

As he advanced, his steps were measured and he would level his ranged weapon and squeeze the firing trigger. The first bolt would punch through a mercenary's coif and rip through his jugular, killing him instantly. "Wicked that stand before, flee before your Judgement comes!" He would yell out to their foes.

Of the ten that could hear the Paladin, six would suddenly break ranks and flee, their fear evident in their movements. Of the four that didn't flee, another five mercs were just out of earshot and made up the remainder of the group blocking the Komodi.

Anyra

Spoiler: OOC NOTE:

See the rolls in the discord. 19 was for Keldorn's Intimidation, 12 was their resolve. 6 was number rolled for those that fled.

 

[Anyra]

She watched as a majority of the group around her dispersed in a hectic scramble from the scene. A part of her felt the same fear they did, which took her off guard. She turned to face the fear that gripped her, and came face to face with the silhouette of a man set against a great flaming eye. The corpses that littered the floor around him burst into flames as each had a ball of white fire extracted through their chest, rising ever upward until she blinked and saw only the man.

For a moment she was awestruck, unable to react appropriately. But as she collected herself—the blood of one of the mercenaries spewing across her face—she resumed her defense. A sword parried, an arm lopped off, a mercenary impaled, all within a few seconds of each other. Her speed was remarkable, but she was less focused on showing off and more on guarding her life.

As the last of the mercenaries fell and a moment of respite came upon them, she said "What are you?"

Keldorn

 

[Keldorn]

Keldorn would not give chase to those that fled. If they were truly wicked, he would find them another day. But for now, it seemed they had the upper hand.

He would holster his hand crossbow before looking over at Anyra, it wasnt lost on him that she had felt fear as well. Perhaps internally she had doubts about the weight of her own soul. Then she asked him a question. "I am Keldorn, Paladin of the Sacred Flame, and Avatar of Be'senaar the Redeemer... so to answer your question, a justicar of sorts. Primarily I hunt demons, but as we both know, wickedness of man knows no bounds."

His gauntlet would grip the base of his blade before sliding up to the tip, extinguishing the flames. "But I still bleed the same as you. A pity about your fellows.. they deserved more, and this bears the stench of an inside job."

Anyra

 

[Anyra]

As his gauntlet slid down his blade and extinguished the flames, she, too, sheathed her claymore. Normally such a large weapon would be worn over the back, but her height allowed for her to wear it on her hip. She rubbed at her left eye a moment, the white around the edge of her vision returning briefly before fading back away.

"Hm. It's true, they didn't deserve this." She placed her hand on her hip. "It's hard to say they deserved much better, however."

She walked toward the center of the room, where the crowd had mostly dispersed out of the chamber and to safety. She stopped over the corpse of the first Baron to be killed by the bolt, peering down at his still open eyes. All too suddenly the reality of the situation began to hit her.

For all her training, for all her drive and ambition, she had never killed before. She had never seen a corpse like this. "I-...I..." She held her hand up to her mouth, taking a deep breath in to steady her nerves. "We uh...we should find out who did this."

Keldorn

 

[Keldorn]

Keldorn would follow her back to the main room, back to the start of it all. "We all deserve much better, even the most lost of us." Keldorn reassured her with a look.

She appeared to have never actually seen such violence before, been forced to kill. He pitied her in that moment. The moment where the soul decides how much it darkens. "You killed only who you had to, and no more. Do not dwell on this. You carried yourself well."

Keldorn would then crouch down beside the Baron and grab the bolt, pulling it free with a squelch. He examined the haft of the quarrel before offering it up to her. "Tell me what you notice about this."

Anyra