Fable - Ask Encroachment [Vel Anir/Dark Cult]

[Natasha]

“Indeed they do.” She agreed with Leander as she continued to examine the dagger. As weird as it was, it was unremarkable. Nevertheless, she placed it in her pocket to show Horace if she remembered. She was not a woman of many words, and unfortunately not a woman of good memory either. She had already forgotten to ask Leander to remind her to tell Odwyth about the dagger by the time he acknowledged Lumen’s shouting.

She nodded at his suggestion, her cheeks turning a bright pink as he leaned in close. Before he could run off, she placed her hand on his arm, a stern look on her face. “Don’t look so angry with Lumen.” She was unaware as to why they hated one another so much, but they were making it everyone’s problem. Natasha did not like this. “It is okay to smile, you know.”

With that, the pair rejoined the group. Natasha fiddled with the blade of the dagger in her pocket absentmindedly as the blondes spoke of their theories. Her stare would then move from the blondes to Horace where she would await his approval.

 

[Edric]

"They've moved back towards the village." Edric commented as he noticed the flickers of life slowly departing from where they had been gathering. Him and the other two Rogue Dreadlords coming to a stop.

A moment seemed to pass where Ulrich considered something, and then the older man dipped his head in a nod.

"Aye, good. Probably back to stall the Column." It made sense, whoever the enemy were they had taken the villagers for something. Edric didn't know what, but that didn't matter. "Let them tangle, well free the civilians."

Edric looked at the man, raising an eyebrow. "Gil said we're to earn some goodwill, so lets ear some goodwill."

A frown touched his features, but he only nodded. The three Rogue Dreadlord waiting a moment before eventually creeping forth towards where the villagers were being held.

Odwyth listened to everything the Initiates had to say, particularly pleased with those who offered their reports succinctly. He saw the eagerness in their eyes and the way they wanted to prove themselves and couldn't help but feel a sliver of pride.

Perhaps the next generation wasn't so doomed after all.

There had been ripples of worry about that, discussions between him and fellow Dreadlords that the new Republic would soften things too much. These kids had grown up partially in the old ways, but it seemed that two years in the system had yet to push them the wrong way.

His head tipped in a nod towards Lumen. "Alright, first priority is the villagers."

Odwyth said, motioning towards Ivan and then to Leander.

"I want you to-" Before he could finish his sentence a call went out. His name was shouted, and almost immediately the Dreadlord turned his head towards the flames. Eyebrows rose, and fingers almost snapped to the sword at his side. With a loud ring the old notched blade left it's scabbard.

There was no hesitation, no questioning or diplomacy. The old Dreadlord knew a foe when he saw one. "Shields up, form a line!"

He called to the soldiers, his voice booming out as he motioned to the Initiates.

"Use the guardsmen to cover your backs." Odwyn ordered, and then flickered his sword forward towards Talavaar. "Kill them all."

 

[Vardan]

​

By this point, Vardan was now very comfortably behind the Dreadlord formation and far afield from their unfolding skirmish with the brigand cult. The din of combat was distant. Just as he liked it. He shuffled with apparent aimlessness through the ruined village. A pair of mundane footmen - likely part of a more spread-out element that composed the Anirian rearguard - happened upon him, and Vardan was forced to dispatch them before continuing his lonely trek.​

​

After a fashion, he found a grouping of unattended horses left by the younger Dreadlords. Vardan assessed that the Anirians must have lacked the regal bearing to fight as cavalry. It behooved Vardan at once that he should requisition such fine steeds for his own vaunted cause if the Anirians had no use for them.​

​

The horses shifted uneasily at his approach.​

​

He reached out a a skeletal hand to one horse - the one Leander had rode in on - and it jerked its head away, brayed harshly, and threatened to rear. "Nnnh. Far too imperious. Nay!"​

​

Vardan picked the next one, which had faithfully delivered Natasha, and it only eyed him. The horse huffed once and looked away. "Mmmhnnn... Indolent, brooding. Nay."​

​

He came upon one more, the one Lumen had very deftly and securely tied to a post. The creature was clearly disturbed by his presence, but not so panicked and aggrieved as his first choice, nor as sullen and docile as the second. A worthwhile horse had to have the good sense to be afraid, but the presence of mind to comport itself. Which was to say: this one was just right.​

​

This all made perfect sense to Vardan, who himself had very little to do with horses when he lived and even less in his present state.​

​

"Ahhh, a worthy steed," Vardan rasped, giving Lumen's horse an awkward pat on the head which it rather transparently did not enjoy, "I shall name thee... Brunellus. Thou shalt render me fine service, eh?"​

​

A fine name for a fine mount, if he said so himself. Vardan put down his sack of bones for the moment and set about rummaging through the saddlebags that noble Brunellus had been equipped with. He discarded the things he had no use for by flinging them over his shoulder.​

​

 

[Ivan Skender]

His head snapped to where Odwyth's warcry had come from, and beyond that, to where the tall elf with the jeweled forehead had just emerged from the smoke. As far as Ivan was concerned though - in a similar rationale to that of the first-level dreadlord leading the mission - no further interpretation was needed; he knew an enemy when he saw one.

Instinctively he ducked, drawing an arrow from his quiver, as the guardsmen formed up behind him in a neat line. No sooner had the shield wall that Odwyth had ordered gone up, than one of his arrows had flown over it, wheezing over the Guards’ helmets and aimed straight at the red jewel glowing in the middle of Talavaar’s forehead. Without even verifying whether the arrow had found its mark, Ivan prepared a second one. As more and more shapes surged out of the smoke, he aimed this time against another elf that had just appeared to the side of the enemy’s leader. As it flew, he saw it lodge in the cultist’s throat, causing a gush of blood to spew forth, before the elf fell backwards with a thud.

By this point, between the Anirian guards forming up and the wave of enemies that seemingly continuously poured out of the smokescreen, it was becoming increasingly hard to aim correctly. Glancing around, he located one of the few small village dwellings that had not caught fire yet. Using a shattered window, and a battered door frame, as support he hoisted himself up onto the thatched roof of the house. Due to the orientation of the building, facing towards the space the Anirians had converged onto, the tall ceiling provided some partial cover against the cultists. From there he started to shoot the bandits, one by one, as they appeared.​

 

[Leander Urahil]

Blah blah blah, citizens that, blah blah blah, Lumen this, blah blah—

Leander’s entire face lit up in a malicious grin as he heard the challenging cry. Leander didn’t hesitate to bring out his sword, excitement clearly written in his features. He saw them emerge from the smoke and shadows, a approaching army behind a man who clearly sought after Odwyth’s attention.

“Natasha,” Leander called, and then using the traditional hand gestures, he told her to stay next to him. Why would he want some guardsmen to cover his back when he had Natasha? Of course, outwardly to her, he’d later explain to her that he wanted her close by to protect her.

Plenty of female initiates could easily handle themselves in the face of danger, but sometimes it was the sentiment that got them to melt like ice on a hot summer day.

Of course, despite Leander’s eagerness, he looked to dreadlord Odwyth, clearly asking for his permission to go ahead and attack. He had every intention of pushing forward and killing more than Lumen could ever hope to kill.

 

[Taayi]

Edric and the other rogue Dreadlords would see several cultists lining up tied up villagers in a row. They forced the villagers to their knees and blindfolded them.

Two cultists approached one end of the line. One was a half-orc carrying a silver bowl. The second was a human with an ornate dagger. The human knelt before the first villager.

“Say, ‘Shor,’” the cultist ordered.

---

Meanwhile, just after Talavaar’s scream was Odwyth’s own war cry. Talavaar continued to grin at the situation. His gem gave a faint flash – which prompted the elf to turn his shoulders and shift his blade.

BWAM

Ivan’s arrow struck the flat of Talavaar’s blade.

The second arrow managed to hit an elven ally next to Talavaar.

To this, Talavaar screamed, “Archers?! You’ve grown weak, Odwyth!”

Pointing his sword to the Anirians, Talavaar ordered them to, “Rip and tear until it is done!”

At that moment, both the cultists from the front and those that set up ambushes sprung forth to attack the Dreadlords.

A battle would ensue.

 

[Lumen]

Lumen's horse did not offer further protest to the strange creature - especially if he offered a green apple. Reds were okay but green was superior. Perhaps she'd even settle for a biscuit.

Meanwhile, Lumen's gaze cut across the field and toward a spot in the woods where she felt that cluster of warmth. Even as all sheol broke loose. Circular shield lifted. Sword was in her hand as she rushed forward, clashing blows with the enemy. Arrows from Ivan Skender rained overhead, helping to thin the numbers. Soldiers fought on all her sides. But she had a specific path.

Beyond the battle to the woods. Where she believed the survivors were.

"Leander," she grunted, "Want to get some glory and save some villagers?" She couldn't do this alone and if that meant giving him all the glory, she was more than willing to sacrifice it to protect those who needed it.

"Natasha? There," she pointed. "Let's go."

 

[Natasha]

Natasha

“Hm?” Natasha picked up her pace as Leander gestured for her to join him. There was no sense of urgency as she moved to step beside him, before they too would join Lumen and Ivan in their assault.

As requested, she remained close enough to Leander for whatever he needed her for. She assumed he thought he would best know how to keep a tight leash on her. He could control what she did and when she did it in order to prevent some catastrophe worse than whatever was already going on. It was almost sweet.

Fluid, agile, and precise- Natasha’s method of sword fighting complimented the force behind Leander and Lumen’s. Like a dancer, the lithe initiate weaved between Leander and the enemy swordsmen with the perfect balance of defense and offense behind each graceful strike.

Natasha

What now? She wondered, her focus shifting over to Lumen who was now gesturing to her to follow. Her eyes, shaded by her hair, rolled in annoyance. Both blondes were ordering her around. Everyone else could see it. They were two peas in a pod. Once again, her belief that they should just kiss and get it over with already was reinforced. Leave Natasha out of it.

But she wouldn’t put forth her suggestion that the two of them go alone. Instead she nodded and followed where Lumen pointed. “What about Ivan?”