Fable - Ask Extirpation

[Yrael]

”Yrael, do not do this, I beg of you.”

The older man had implored him. Sagith Aerin had been his mentor for close to six years now and a prominent figure in his training since well before then. While he was older than Yrael for sure, he could not be more than 40 himself. Dreadlords did not always live long lives. Still, his crystal blue eyes were pale and faded, and his face bore lines deeper than his age would have dictated.

”You could achieve great things with one of the seven houses. Your power will carry you far, but your house will take you even further.” Yrael gazed out the window lined with thick stone, not appearing to listen.

”House Virak has offered you a commanding position. You will be leading armies with them. You will have riches.” Visible frustration was starting to appear. ”I’m not just saying that because they are my house. Banick and Luana would also have you at a moment’s notice. Look at me.” Yrael turned his head stoically and locked his violet eyes with Sagith’s blue ones.

”You hold great strength, you know this, but the King has no true power. If you swear to the Royal line you will be throwing away a life that others have killed to achieve. That you have already killed to achieve.”

Yrael was silent, as he often was. It was a long few moments before he spoke. “Do we not all serve the king?”

Sagith sighed, hung his head. He knew that nothing would change the boy’s mind. ”You know the monarchy is in name only. Think of your future. Swear to one of the houses. Any house. You will go nowhere with the King.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~
Ten Years Later
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~​

Yrael stood on the hard, broken ground. Shattered stone and rubble surrounded him. Directly before him a shallow trench, some four feet across, stretched into the distance, its path cutting through the foundation of what was once someone’s home or business.

At least, it could be assumed. It was quite difficult to tell what had been here just an hour before. Bricks and stone alike had been pulverized beyond recognition, and the village had been quite simply flattened. It was as if a massive razor had come down from the heavens and scraped the settlement off the map. Here and there one could find shallow circular depressions with crushed pots, carts, and sometimes creatures inside.

A soldier in gleaming platemail approached him. “Commander Yrael, shall I send a bird back to his Majesty?” Yrael waved his hand lazily in the air, and the soldier saluted, before going to the cage of carrier pigeons at the edge of the battleground.

The village that had been here belonged to a group of Falwood elves. Not an official branch, of course, that would be a breach of the peace, but a small radical splinter group that could be plausibly distanced from the main government, if needed. They had a host of orcs with them as well, likely a mercenary company.

The group had not yet made any aggressive move, but they may have in the future. They were far from a threat to the city, but they could have potentially raided the outer settlements if they had wanted to.

But the real reason Yrael was here, the real reason the so-far peaceful village of orcs and elves had been crushed, was because the King needed to be seen as doing something every now and then. Yes, the common folk credited the monarchy with most of Vel Anir’s success, but the seven houses were becoming more and more transparent about their true power. As the King’s power continued to wane they were less concerned with maintaining the illusion, and so, to keep the people’s minds off the true political web that governed them, Yrael had been sent to make appearances.

He didn’t mind so much, not really. He enjoyed his work, and the monarchy had been so neutered that he rarely had to give much thought to how his actions would affect it. In a sense, he was free. Free to move about under the banner of Vel Anir without being tied to any particular agenda. No alliances to maintain, no double dealings. Things were simpler with the monarchy. Politics did not need to be any more complicated than a sword and whoever had the biggest one.

Perhaps some day Vel Anir would return to such times.

But not today. Yrael felt the cool wind rustling through his hair. It felt happy, its path now free of obstruction. How very apt. He imagined himself as the wind, trying to wind between the claws and nets of the seven houses. His violet eyes rested on the structures he had decimated, and dangerous thoughts lingered at the edge of his mind.

“Commander,” a different soldier hailed him. This time Yrael turned, watched the armor-clad man approach him. He could only tell it was a different person due to the voice, these soldiers blended together so easily.

“Someone approaches from the West.” Yrael looked. So they did. He waved the soldier away, signalling them to stand down. It had been a quiet day, save for the last hour. Let us see what the newcomer brought.

 

[Elise Virak]

Elise sat quietly in her carriage and watched out the small window as the Falwood rolled by to her left. Her eyes were half lidded, head resting within the palm of her hand as she waywardly counted the minutes.

These trips were so utterly boring.

It had been months since she'd ventured outside of the Virak Estate. Ever since her dealings with the pirate things had been...complicated. The bargain had needed careful maintenance, but even with her constant vigilance her father had somehow found out.

His fury had been...manageable, though it had taken up almost all of her attention. It was only after she'd convinced him of the value of her deal had he relented in his anger, tough she'd still been forced to stay home for far longer than was reasonable.

"My Lady, you should not have the window open. This is dangerous territory."​

One of the soldiers escorting her to the village spoke from his horse outside the carriage. Her golden eyes slowly floated to the man, her lips tightening as she silently glowered. The man stiffened, and then quickly road off ahead.

Elise was no toddler that needed coddling.

"How much longer to the village?" The Baroness demanded.

"It's just up ahead, Mad'am."​

The answer came from her driver, one of the few people in her retinue who had any sense at all. Elise straightened herself, smoothing her dress. A smile touched her lips as she thought of what was to come.

Today would be fun.

Putting the Kings Hounds back in their Kennel was always enjoyable.

 

[Harry]

Hal drifted somewhere behind the carriage that Elise rode in. The apprentice came in place of Selene Avar, prized Dreadlord of House Virak. Selene had said it would be best for Hal if he were to become used to the family, seeing that he would swear to them in the future. It was all but decided, though Hal had no issues. He was promised success if he stuck with the family, and Selene recognized his potential and at least seemed eager (as eager as Selene would allow herself to appear, anyways) to have him as an ally of sorts.

Up until now, he'd never interacted with any of the Virak family. Selene had only a few words of wisdom in dealing with the only daughter of Erich Anselm Sellon Virak.

Be sensible around her, Henry. She only called him by his name when she was serious. It always startled him when she did that.

He hadn't really known what to make of that at the time. Not that he presently knew, either. Hal didn't oft speak with women, especially one of such high standing. He thought it'd be best if he tried to avoid her attention at all costs. The boy hoped that a mere apprentice would escape her gaze.

"Hah," One of the soldiers nearby spoke to another, "Did'ja see that, Peter?"

"Hm?" The other responded.

"That lad Ethan tried speaking with the Lady."

"Phew," Peter shook his head, "Nice face- body, too- but a right bitch, she is."

The first soldier chuckled, "Don' let her catch wind of that kind of talk. She's likely to flay you head-to-toe."

Peter only scoffed in response.

Hal didn't know much at all about Elise Virak, but something gnawed at his stomach. It would be a long day, it seemed.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Today would be hard, excruciatingly so. Exactly one year ago, Florinthe had prematurely lost her master and friend Althea Alires. Killed on a routine patrol mission, her body was never to be recovered. In the aftermath, she was adrift and alone within the Dreadlords organisation. Worse still, despite Althea being only a middling second-level, at best, she had been a key politicker and strategist within the Luana machine and her demise had created a backlog of schemes, favours and intrigue that they were, only now, recovering from.

Anniversary aside, Florinthe felt the consequences of her death acutely today. In usual times, House Luana would vehemently support the actions of the monarchy, playing to the public opinion, sentiment and patriotic zeal angle no doubt, but this instance things had overwhelmed and side-tracked them and this foray had caught them completely unawares. Unable to mobilise in time, citing genuine security concerns along the Cortosi coast, they had sent her alone. The junior and most expendable member of their rank.

Things were made worse by the fact that House Virak had stepped up and supported the venture in a fashion usually espoused by House Luana and had attached a sizeable contingent to the mission, including a member of the main branch. She had been warned before her departure, time and time again. She was instructed to play no games, speak when spoken to and simply roll with the punches. Expendable, yes, but the house wanted her to survive - despite the long odds stacked against her.

Florinthe guided her horse towards the contingent of Virak militia as they approached the Falwood. It was not uncommon for a Dreadlord to tag along where they see fit and so, with a simple flash of her emblem, she remained unchallenged - trailing behinds the procession. She had seen fit to dress like a common variety Dreadlord, unadorned and displaying no outward affiliation towards any particular house. She almost let herself relax - until she saw Hal.

"Fuck, that sneaky rat boy is here too." She muttered under her breath, raised her hood, and hoped to high heavens he was unaware of her or her allegiance.

 

[Yrael]

The carriage that approached was ornate. Garishly so. The colors that adorned it, along with the contingent of soldiers that surrounded it, gave no doubt as to who had arrived. House Virak was here.

Out of all seven, Virak was probably the house that Yrael understood the best. It was not just that his mentor had served them. Indeed, he had been courted by some of the other houses during his apprenticeship. No, it was Virak’s dedication to overwhelming military strength that rang true with him.

Perhaps, in a different life, Yrael would have had a mind for strategy and intrigue. Indeed it wasn’t that he couldn’t follow the twists and turns of diplomacy and espionage, he didn’t want to. If you had the strength to push your way forward just do it and be done with it.

Of course, they didn’t have the strength. No one house did. That’s what made the whole situation so frustrating. But here he was, playing the game just like everyone else.

Vultures had begun to circle overhead by the time the carriage arrived by the small band of royal soldiers. The golden-clad knights lined up in their formations, ready to receive the noble of House Virak. While their shields and breastplates bore the symbol of the crown, their armor was as paper before the power of that woman.

Yrael did not approach. He faced the carriage but remained standing amidst the rubble a short distance away. As an envoy of the king he had no obligations to any house. Perhaps he would be wise to show their leaders respect. Quiet indifference was all they would receive.

It could only be Elise in that carriage. Though he knew her face and her name, Yrael had not had the chance to truly interact with her. Not one on one. He noted that she had brought an unusual number of soldiers with her. The village was already quite destroyed. They couldn’t have hoped to reach it in time to intervene, so what was their aim? What empty display of power awaited him?

 

[Elise Virak]

The Carriage came to a stop, and Elise let out a yawn as she stretched her fingers and waited for the driver to hop from his place.

She could hear the sound of boots hitting the dusty road, clanging metal as soldiers dismounted, and then a moment later the latch on the door just besides her. Sunlight fell into the carriage as the Driver beckoned her with a bow and a wave of her hand.

Slowly the Baroness stood from her seat, taking the three small steps down onto the ground.

For a brief moment she did not say anything, her eyes wandering around the destroyed ruin of a village with a slight frown touching her lips. She could spot soldiers wearing the colors of House Anireth, the King's sigil staining the banners some of them held up high.

Her fingers danced gently against her outer thigh, and then she moved through the throng of soldiers in front of her.

As they moved to the side she spotted the person responsible for leading this little raid; Yreal. There were few Dreadlords that had sworn themselves to the crown, and Elise had taken careful measure to remember each and every one of them.

They would all have to be turned eventually, or executed. "Dreadlord."

She used no name for the man even though she knew it.

"What happened here?" Her words were cutting, the way she spoke seeming to dissect into ones very intent.

 

[Harry]

“Heavens above,” Hal exclaimed under his breath as the pulverized village came into view. His horse came to a stop behind the carriage and Hal dismounted. He moved to a spot between the contingent of Elise’s soldiers and those sworn to the King.

The apprentice closely watched Elise and his hand casually rested on the hilt of his sword.

Hal wouldn’t have been able to tell that they arrived at a village had he not been told that they were riding to one. It was utterly ruined with few traces left behind to indicate that elves had once lived there.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe kept her head low as the procession drew up to meet with King's men. As they halted she spotted Elise and another figure exchanging remarks. Yrael. As part of her additional training, she had learned the names and public abilities of all serving Dreadlords and this one, in particular, frightened her. Wildcards always did.

Her attention drifted from the two figures and she drove her mount slowly towards the King's forces. She concluded her reception, once her allegiances were known, would receive a significantly warmer welcome here than with the forces of her house's nemesis.

She took the time to glance survey the battlefield and marvelled at the scene before her. It was a rare thing, she mused, for such complete destruction of a site to occur - yet he had turned the former settlement into dust. It was unsurprising considering his talents and she was, partly at least, grateful that the King and House Luana were so close - the risk of ever crossing this man would be low.

For now, however, she flickered her gaze back towards Elise and Yrael. Morbid curiosity overcame her, as she waited to see which mind came out on top of this exchange.

 

[Vittorio]

There would soon come rustling and footsteps from nearby brush. The sound of a new arrival not noticed by those who'd been avidly looking. It had been some time since his presence was requested to join Yrael and his militia. Vittorio decided to show up when he did. It seemed the raid was finished. Anyone who knew him had seen how quickly men fell to his magic and would not be so witless as to question his time of arrival. It's possible he may even have surpassed his apprenticeship had he shown more devotion to his work.

The hooded figure would appear through the nearby trees walking with a fawn. He knelt down to pat its head gently informing it that it was now time to leave. He continued his quiet approach over to Yrael, who he offered a low bow of his head.

"Forgive my tardiness." He said monotone. He would peer over to his dreadlord colleagues. "Henry. Florinthe." Acknowledging their presences with no tone. It was then he realized who was riding in the carriage, Elise Virak. He shifted to face her and offer another bow.

"My sincerest apologies, my lady. I meant no intrusion." After another mouthful of words that held no emotion, he would move himself to stand next to Henry Bauer.

"How did it go?" He would ask him, without turning to face him.

 

[Yrael]

Yrael eyed Elise impassively. She held herself high above the ground (and those who walked upon it). House Virak had no part in these plans, yet he was not surprised that they had pried their way into it. He was somewhat surprised that the Baroness herself had chosen to visit rather than send an envoy or messenger, or even a spy. Such forthcoming was appreciated by the dreadlord.

“The King’s will,” he answered her, walking towards her. As he moved the stones moved aside, clearing a flat pathway between him and the woman. “The subhumans had established a military camp here that threatened our borders, and our farmers. They have been eliminated.”

Three other figures had approached them. He was familiar with Florinthe, being a prominent figure of House Luana, but he did not recognize Hal. The other apprentice, Vittorio, if memory served, was indeed late. His usual proximity to the Falwood had made him a natural decision for backup, at least that was the rationale given. Yrael wondered if the Royal House had taken an interest in the man’s… particular talents. Anyone who avoided the courtship of the major houses was a contender for the Royal corps.

The tension between the royal knights and Virak’s soldiers was palpable. While their title was fancier, the knights had not been sworn to any of the major houses, and therefore missed out on some of the more specialized training. Yrael knew many of them would perish to Virak’s swords should conflict break out.

But there was no reason conflict should. The King’s jurisdiction was infinite, after all, so long as he didn’t step on too many toes. He was about to speak again, when an arrow whipped past his head. A second embedded itself in the back of one of his soldiers, the golden armor providing no defense.

Elven archers, at least a dozen. A row of mages in front provided a glistening translucent shield. The smoke from Yrael’s destruction must have alerted the Falwood scouts that their allies were under siege.

“Deal with them,” Yrael commanded his men. “My apologies, Baroness, our conversation will need to be postponed.”

 

[Elise Virak]

"The King's will?" She scoffed, as though the words weren't even worth the breath that he had decided to waste on them. "I hadn't realized there was any of that left."
Open contempt for the Royal Line was rare, even among the Great Houses, but Elise had the rare gift of being allowed to sneer as much as she wanted. It was an image she had carefully cultivated over the years, one that stood in direct opposition of her father.

Ever since the ruling Alliance had taken command House Virak had 'openly' supported the King more so than many other Houses.

Of course that was all a lie for the public. In reality her father despised House Anireth more so than most men. He always told story of how the current King and he had once been playmates, and apparently the little bastard had been quite contemptible.

Childish, but even great men had their complaints.

A Dreadlord stepped into their conversation, the odd skull mask decorating his face. Lips thinned, and rage boiled inside her, but was quickly tempered as an apology and formal bow was offered. A breath filled her lungs and she turned back to Yreal.

When the first arrow landed Elise let out an exasperated sigh. Her conversation was cut short, and for once she could not drag it out.

Battle always took precedent, she was Anirian enough to know that. As the Soldiers broke into formation Elise reached out and motioned to one of the Dreadlords she knew to be of House Virak, a boy named...Harry? "You."

She took three steps closer, moving away from Yreal.

"Bring me one of the knife-ears, alive." She glanced over to the Royal Forces with a frown.

 

[Harry]

Hal had once heard whispers of an eccentric apprentice, an aloof individual with unique characteristics that made him impossible to understand among his cohort.

Gods, don't speak to me, Hal thought to himself as he offered a curt nod to the skull-masked apprentice. Now, what was he on about? "As well as one would expect. No, actually, probably better."

The displeasure of speaking to the masked apprentice was replaced by the far greater displeasure of being singled out by the young Lady Elise to retrieve an elven captive amidst the sudden outburst of battle. The uncomfortable stillness between the two groups disappeared as the trained soldiers of both retinues exploded into action, taking up defensive positions against the attackers.

Hal nodded to Elise and moved towards the back of the contingent of Virak soldiers.

"As soon as that barrier is broken, cut them down." He ordered the soldiers.

He, too, would have to wait for the right opportunity before acting. It would be a good opportunity to gauge the capabilities of those around him as well.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe was oblivious to the ongoings of the Virak retinue. Instead, her attention had been ripped away from the ongoing discussion between Yrael and Elise to study the new arrival within their encampment. A curious fellow, an apprentice if she was not mistaken, she responded to his welcome with a simple nod.

In the distance trouble was brewing. The sight of small flecks slowly coming into view worried her. Something was happening just out of vision, although what it was she wasn't quite sure herself. As the flecks slowly became figures, drawing closer towards their forces, Florinthe dismounted her stead and awaited the first move. Needless to say, she didn't have to wait long as the elves began to form ranks - within shooting range of the Anirian forces - and begun to unleash their volley.

She smiled, ranged combat was her forte and it was rare, especially in recent months, that she had had an opportunity to excel. In the academy, her cohort and instructors had come to know her as a human ballista, although she took offence to such a name. She was more destructive, for a start, and capable of much greater distances than such a mundane piece of weaponry. Unfortunately for the enemy, she had ridden here and was equipped with a much greater stock of javelins than she could possibly carry alone. The perfect storm really.

A powerful shield erupted before the elven soldiers, but that was fine. A small set-back, easily navigable with just an ounce of creativity. Drawing a single javelin from her horse's stock, Florinthe channelled her magic calmly and expertly around the weapon, her eyes never once leaving the enemies before them. After a prolonged period of time, she lurched forward, her body poised to strike. A running start ensued, followed by a perfectly executed throw, the weapon arcing through the air, coated in potent and dangerous wind magic.

It whiffed, incredibly far from the mark and was sent hurtling aimlessly past one side of the enemy forces. Or so it seemed.

The issue with such primitive defensive tactics is that it so easily breeds complacency. For instance, erecting an impenetrable magical barrier between yourself and your enemy was all well and good - until they go around it. Florinthe's spear did exactly that. The weapon looped backwards, impaling the ground between two barrier mages and subsequently detonated in a powerful explosion of wind. The two elves, struck at point-blank range from her magic, exploded in a firework of gizzards and gore.

"Aim... for the left-hand side of the barrier!" Her speech was staggered, her attack had consumed more magic than she had intended and it left her momentarily breathless. That said, the damage was done, the barrier - on one end at least - began to flicker and fade.

 

[Vittorio]

"Good to hear." He spoke simply, not looking at Henry whatsoever. His attention did get entirely drawn when he was witness to their new opponents. An audible sigh could be heard coming from under his mask. He had no interest in harming the Falwood. He had more in common with them than he did any of his colleagues. If he did not act he would surely face the sword. Shame.

He sprinted headlong at the group before them with reckless abandon. Arrows flew through the air and many hit his frame. The arrows would connect with Vittorio and yet it would only show damage to the fabric. Beyond that the projectiles hit the ground with their tips indented. His sprint was not thwarted. Serendipitously, Florinthe had been kind enough to make an opening on the left of their barrier giving him a chance to make a couple of moves.

First, he would seem to spin kick another barrier mage. Yet in this quick movement, the head of the mage would lob off cleanly. Second, he grabbed an archer by his wrist.

"Your outfits are lovely." He stated to the now terrified elf, before slamming his skull mask into their head, knocking them out cold. He picked the archer up with no resistance and began to simply walk back to his allies side. More arrows shot into his back as he moved, all breaking upon contact.

He brought he unconscious elf before Elise Virak's carriage. "I believe this is what you requested." He laid the warrior down and offered the woman a bow. He was disgusted with himself. But this was his life.

He turned to rush back onto the battlefield.

 

[Elise Virak]

A bemused smile caught on her face as one of the other Dreadlords delivered what she had asked from Hal.

She was sure that Hal would have loved to indulge her command, but it seemed that the other was quicker to the command. It did not really matter to her who had brought the prize, and a little competition never hurt among the Dreadlords.

"Barrin." As the name spilled from her lips a man in a black coat stepped up behind her.

He was a stern looking man, black hair and a short cut beard. His eyes were beady, and there almost seemed to be something missing from them. Hal would recognize him from his mission on Coraliv. He was a Dreadlord of the First Level, loyal to House Virak.

Unlike the others he did not move to fight the Elves, instead he stayed by Elise's side.

"Yes, My Lady?"​

The words came with true deference, his head bowing as he waited for her command. "I need a new puppet."

She said gesturing towards the Elf on the ground.

"Of course."​

While combat rage on the edges of the forest, while most Dreadlords and soldiers went to fight the threat ahead of them, Barrin squatted down and lifted the unconscious Elf's head. His free hand scrunched for a second, and then he reached over the mans mouth. An odd black sludge poured from his palm, and into the Elf's lips.

The man's eyes popped open as black veins suddenly appeared within the flesh of his face, a creeping tide of tar moving beneath his skin as his mouth opened in a wordless scream.

"It will take time Lady Virak, their constitution is...resilient."​

Elise only nodded in answer.

 

[Yrael]

Florinthe had a mind for misdirection, it seemed, and a section of the magical barrier faltered. Knights in gleaming royal armor rushed forward, shields held high against the hail of arrows. Yrael walked calmly behind them, the arrows that flew towards him clattered against an invisible barrier. It did not take much concentration to keep the forcefield up, it was one of the first and most useful tricks he had learned, but it was a consistent drain on his energy. Loathe as he was to admit it in front of Elise Virak, destroying the village had indeed taken its toll.

The knights reached the barrier, sparks flying from their blades as they made contact. Those on the left managed to flank and engaged the elves in melee combat. Shield mages began to fall, and the barrier flickered, wavered, and started to collapse.

It was time. Mustering what strength he could, Yrael punched a wave of force directly at the compromised barrier. A heavy boom was all that announced its approach, and a rainbow shimmer radiated from the point of impact. Thin spiderweb cracks were visible, and with a yell of effort, Yrael slammed it again.

This time it shattered in earnest, knocking several mages to the ground. The hail of arrows had stopped as the archers resorted completely to defending themselves from the knights. Yrael dropped his defenses, and allowed himself a moment of rest. A single bead of sweat ran down the side of his face, luckily hidden by his hood.

It did not take long for the elves to attempt to retreat, but Yrael knew they would not make it far. Between the knights that outnumbered them, and the four Dreadlords assaulting them, their fate was all but sealed.

Yrael watched as Vittorio brought one of the elves to Elise. Perhaps she wished to interrogate him? It mattered little, and Yrael stopped next to the body of one of the fallen mages. She wore an insignia he hadn't seen before. Twisting branches surrounding a bird's skull? Curious. He kept it.

Confident that the others would take care of the runners, he made his way back to Elise. They had an unfinished conversation, after all. The elf they had taken looked... odd.

 

[Harry]

The barrier fell, giving rise to the opportunity that Hal had so patiently waited for. As the elves attempted to flee, a great surge of magic bubbled within the Apprentice. He shoved past the line of knights and laid his palms flat on the ground. The earth rumbled and curved walls of ice rose from the ground far head of Hal, cutting off the retreating elves, giving the Knights and Dreadlords an opportunity to back the renegades into a corner.

He let out a heavy sigh and rose to his feet. He'd done very little during the battle, but with the walls he summoned, it was very likely that no elves would escape. He watched as the elves were collapsed upon and cut down.

 

[Florinthe Othal]

Florinthe watched the battle ensue in front of her. Even better when the ice wall appeared. She was loathed to expend any more magic than was necessary and begin to arm herself with the set of javelins resting on her horse.

She inhaled, deeply. Suddenly, the wind around her whipped up and in that same moment, she began to offload her projectiles. Her body was a blur that seemed to discharge further blurs into the sky. In under a minute her entire arsenal had been spent and she watched as the javelins she had thrown began to rain down upon the elven forces. Curiously, several of them seemed to arc or warp mid-air to avoid striking any friendly forces on the ground. Instead, they seemed to solely target the elven figures in disarray, routed behind a giant ice wall.

With each successful hit of a javelin, which was to say almost all of them, their target erupted into a familiar explosion of guts and gore. Unstable, pressurised, air suddenly releasing upon impact and causing small miniature explosions that seemed just sufficient enough to make biological fireworks from the elves. She had to admit, her handiwork was messy, but it got the message across. Even more so, it sowed panic and mayhem within the elven forces - making it all the easier to clean up afterwards.

The rest was up to the knights. She had no wish to go fight the enemies upfront. Despite her skill and training, all it took was a stray blade, arrow, or spell to take even a Dreadlord down.

"Nice wall." She shouted, barely, towards Hal. It was a good idea, that was twice she'd underestimated his thought processes.

 

[Vittorio]

Vittorio pulled his hardened forearm bone out of an elf's chest cavity and looked onto the next he was supposed to send to the grave. A terrified elvish man, bearing an insignia of a birds skull on his shirt. Clearly begging for his life before the knights with tears in his eyes and regret in his heart. The Dreadlord pushed passed the knights and put a hand on his shoulder.

"What is this?" He asked quietly, pulling the insignia from his chest.

"P-please don't kill me."

"What IS this?" He prodded once more.

"It's just part of our group. I didn't understand how radical they were. I didn't know they'd be such fools."

Disgusting. This elf to not only be unaware of the motives of the group he was in but to denounce them when he was captured. A coward in every sense of the word. Someone the world wouldn't miss for a second.
He fingers elongated from the shoulder he was grasping and sharpened behind the elf's head, piercing through his eyes and mouth from the back of his head. Vittorio dropped him to gag on his own blood and walked back to his Dreadlord comrades, specifically Florinthe Othal and Henry Bauer.

Vittiorio rose the insignia up to them. "Does this look familiar to either of you?"

 

[Elise Virak]

Elise seemed almost entirely unconcerned with the waning battle going on just outside of her view. She stood with her arms crossed besides Barrin, her cold gaze on the Elf writhing just by her feet.

The man was struggling with that odd blackness slowly spreading through his body, and as he moved about on the floor she could start to hear the cracking of bone. Muscles went taught, tendons tightened, and slowly the man began to shift into something entirely different than he was more.

His skin stretched and grayed, his arms dislocated. A scream echoed out from his lips, and foam bubbling his mouth. Blood spilled from his ears, the pain of his transformation enough that his cries of agony fell only into silence.

Elise looked up at Barrin, her eyebrow razing. The First Level Dreadlord looked back at the Baroness, offering a simple shrug.

"It will be done in a second."​

He assured Elise, glancing down at the Elf as his body finally gave out. There was a violent jerk, and then the Elf's eyes seemed to glaze over.

The creature now laying on the ground was decidedly different than that of a simple Elf, but the features of what it had been were still there. Long knife like ears, odd beauty even in a mangled form. Elise motioned to Barrin, and the Dreadlord raised a palm.

Slowly the twisted creature stood. "Who are you? Your companions?"

The creature seemed to struggle for a moment, then it's jaw unhinged and slowly it began to speak. The words were guttural, broken and half dropped.

"I-I-aaa-am Ire'lil. F-first R-ang-er of the Elre'leth."​

Elise's brow furrowed. Elre'leth?

The word was Elven for sure, but nothing she had ever heard before. It was certainly not something from Fal'Addas, at least not something official.

"What is the Elre'Leth?" She asked curiously.

"Hu-hu-hunters...huum."​

The creature violently tore at it's jaw for a moment, as if it were trying to stop itself from speaking. Barrin snapped his fingers, and it cease.

"Hunters....of...Hu-mans..."​

 

[Yrael]

The royal knights had been prepared for what they saw. One did not join a party of dreadlords without expecting some collateral damage. Still, the violent, gory explosions were jarring, and the massive wall of ice seemingly borne from the very air was impressive.

Finally, with golden armor plastered red, they were able to sheath their blades. They walked the battlefield, exterminating any survivors on the ground. Comments of "dirty knife-ears" and "savages" floated freely amongst them. Each body bore the same symbol.

Yrael had returned to Elise and Barrin by now, his normally inscrutable face betraying disgust at what he saw. The elf had been twisted by some unholy magic, mutated into something nearly unrecognizable. Whatever had been done to it appeared to make it compliant, however, and even Yrael could not argue the effectiveness.

"This changes things," he said, to the Baroness, signaling one of his men with a snap of his fingers that was a bit louder than it should have been. "Reports indicated these were little more than mercenaries. Clearly... the reports were wrong."

Surely the elves knew a settlement this close would trigger retaliation. Had... had that been their goal? He had not detected any traps but it made him wonder.

The soldier he had summoned arrived. "Send another message to His Majesty," and he quickly detailed the information that the Sovereign should know. "Enclose this sigil with it." The soldier bowed and began to leave, but Yrael held him back by the arm. "Make clear that no additional troops are needed at this time." He did not want more people meddling in this than was necessary, not before more information was gathered.

He desired to ask the captured elf more. Where did you come from? How many of your are there? Who ordered the encampment so close to the city? Elise would likely not tolerate more than one interruption, so he chose the only question that truly mattered: "Where is your headquarters?"

A strange situation for sure, a new and mysterious enemy, but the solution would likely be the same as always. They must be crushed with overwhelming force.

 

[Harry]

Hal spat as he rose and rested his hands on his hips, watching as his compatriots finished off the elves that remained. It was moments like this where Hal’s magic truly shone. Yes, his offensive capabilities were fearsome, but what shone beyond that was his ability to control areas. He could easily shift the tide of a battle with his magic; he could break apart formations, disrupt the enemy, protect his allies, but his capabilities did not end there. The potential of his seemed to know to bounds. As each day passed, he expanded upon his own mastery of his magic, and rapidly became a more versatile and efficient fighter.
He heard Florinthe’s praise, and offered a rare smile, one that called back to his days with his three friends.

The apprentice, Vittorio, approached with an emblem in hand.

“No,” Hal admitted, and snatched the insignia from the masked boy. He looked at it closer before offering it back. “Just another group of renegades.”

 

[Florinthe Othal]

As Florinthe stood on the outskirts of the battlefield, watching over the royal knights finish the dregs of the elves, she slipped a man a few coins. It was pure laziness, she didn't want to expend the time or effort collecting her spears, plus he was heading in that direction anyway. With any luck, she'd get him to carry them for him for the rest of the journey. She smiled wickedly, before turning her attention around towards Vittorio and Hal.

The insignia was a curious thing, she'd never seen any styles like this before so it ultimately left her puzzled. That said, she'd been fortunate that her master had been a keen linguist and, rightly so, had passed her understanding of a few languages onto Florinthe. While her spoken Elvish was rusty, she knew the advantages of knowing it were many. Equally, with her own almost elven features - no doubt some distant mud in the water of her bloodline - she was always dreading an infiltration mission to the elven capital and so she kept her skills sharp where possible.

"Pass it here, I'll try reading the writing." It was bloodied and stained, but she could make out the words 'Na Daoine a Dhó' and a rough translation loosely formed within her brain.

"It's not a perfect translation, but... burn the humans." Her curiosity was piqued, they might be dealing with more than just a few insurgents.

 

[Elise Virak]

"Val-Val'Thien Senne-senn-senner'el"​

Elise's features tightened at the name of the ancient city, her lips thinning as her eyes slowly wandered towards Yrael. Had he known? Had the King known?

She searched the man's features, and then slowly decided that it was not the case. The King would not be so foolish. He wanted acclaim, power, he would not risk open war with one of the Great Houses. "He's speaking of Vel Senn."

An Anirian City that had once sat directly on the border to the Falwood.

"Val'Thien Senner'El was it's name before we claimed it in the Second Elven War." She could still recall the histories well enough. "It was destroyed during the Third."

Vel Senn was also disturbingly close to her own families Winter Castle, under a twenty leagues in fact. If Elven renegades had taken up position there, then it was very likely their next move would be to take the Castle.

There were a dozen smaller villages in the same area, but the Virak Fortress would be the perfect staging ground to attack Vel Cirak.

Not to mention it was her home.

"We must move immediately." Elise said sternly.

 

[Vittorio]

"I think it foolish of you to make such a hasty assumption, Henry." He stated quietly when he took the insignia back. "Falwood elves are far from unintelligent. And if you yourself cannot see the resentment created by our existence than I believe that to be a folly on your end."

Then came Florinthe's harsh translation. Ah, human hunters. They weren't the first and they weren't the last. Vittorio grew a small smile under his mask knowing someone was doing the dirty work against humans when he himself could barely find the time. It was going to be such a shame to put down these elves when they shared an ideal like that.

"Ah, so we have an actual rebellion on our hands." He said with a quiet chuckle, trying his best to hide his glee about their existence. He looked to the depths of the Falwood, curious on their numbers and their strength. Likely lacking in comparison to those in the ranks of the Dreadlords, yet who knew.

"I suppose we just await Yrael's command."