Fable - Ask Lords of Dust

[Ivan Skender]

Tell Arran - The Empire

It was intriguing perhaps, how sometimes the smallest, seemingly most insignificant of events could have the deepest repercussions down the line.

In Tell Arran, for instance, it had been rather surprising how the death of a small silk merchant some months prior had played into the already deeply-seated misgivings about the newly-forged Empire and its perceived neglect of the periphery to foster a full-blown mutiny.

While such events, occurring in a backwater such as this, would normally have been dismissed by the world at large, the Arrani had the relative misfortune of living close enough to the Anirian border that such happenings in their lives were of note to its Southern neighbour.

The city itself was difficult to access, laying at the heart of a mountainous massif that rose as an offshoot of the Fel Draza range further to the southeast. Surrounded by narrow gorges, insurmountable peaks, and arid wilderness, teeming with hostile tribes of sand elves, Tell Arran was not exactly a place it was easy to keep tabs on. So much so in fact, that rumours of these rebellions had taken months to reach Vel Anir, just next door.

Still, for all its remoteness, the settlement still commanded incredible strategic importance, laying on the narrow pass that connected Aniria proper to the Empire to the north. This had made it into something of a commercial hub for those courageous, or shrewd, enough to brave the craggy passes of the mountains.

It had been this mix of strategic and economic value that had prompted Vel Anir to send a small detachment to assess, and act on, the recent - or maybe not so recent - events that had transpired within the fortified settlement.

With a mission to investigate, make contact, and - should the situation favour such an approach - play the power-brokers of Tell Arran to secure a friendly government in the city, a group of initiates had been assigned to the mountain settlement.

Considering his recent successful foray into these lands, Ivan had been among those handpicked for this mission. Riding at the head of the small Anirian grouping, astride Naspie, the black camel he had… acquired during his first visit to the Tell Arran, the blonde had been rather eager for this assignment. Not only was it a great opportunity for advancement - due to the great responsibility placed upon the initiates - but also it was a chance to get away from the smothering embrace of the Academy. For while the border was close, Aniria itself was far away and difficult to reach, which meant that, while they were to be stationed here, they would be completely and fully on their own.

His mount, for one, seemed to share in his eagerness, its contentment to be back home rather evident in its gleeful bleating as they approached the reddish-brown walls of Tell Arran.

- “We should find shelter the moment we get into the city.” - He told his comrades. - “Our last intel from the city is from months ago." - He continued. - "Better set up camp somewhere first to try and figure out what's happened since ." -​

 

[Rhidian]

"Shame Quinnick ain't here to exercise her Kaliti. I am so awful with the language." Rhidian grimaced, riding astride Ivan on his own equine steed. It seemed his experience in growing up in a family that served the Guard and going through the training for six months before active duty gave the figure heads of this mission the idea to sigh up Rhidian to keeping order in this bordering city.

He had heard Ivan speak of the adventure he had taken last he was here, Livia assisting him. He knew after hearing it all that he wouldn't follow Skender into any ruin or let him touch anything.

"Fuck, and I thought the Savannah was hot... this heat is something else." He wiped his face down with his light layered sleeves, eager to bathe and get some rest as soon as he could. "Got any contacts to ask around or we doing this the old fashioned way, going door to door and hoping they can speak Common or Anirian?" The former more likely than the latter.

 

[Ivan Skender]

Shame Quinnick ain't here to exercise her Kaliti. I am so awful with the language.​

Naspie the camel let out a bleat that almost made it seem as though the beast agreed with the other initiate. Ivan couldn't blame either, really. He had heard Rhidian's... attempt at speaking Kaliti, and suffice to say his respect for his comrade had not improved following that display.

But alas, they were not there to test their conversational skills, but rather their subterfuge ones.

- "No, we're going in blind." - He replied to Rhidian. - "We had one contact that stopped reporting a few weeks ago, and even then, the intel we had from before is months old by now." - And they would both know that, when it came to a city at war, a matter of mere weeks could feel like ages as far as information was concerned.

That was especially true here, in Tell Arran, where - if rumours were to be believed - power brokers and ambitious kingmakers switched sides and shifted their allegiances with about as much frequency as the breezes changed directions.

- "I would also avoid approaching people, if it can be helped, and especially not in Anirian." - Though a fair time of travel away, beyond the mountains, Aniria was still Tell Arran's most important neighbour. The issue with this was, of course, as the elves of the Falwood could attest to, that having Vel Anir right next door was not something that inspired confidence in anyone.

- "Last time I was here there were a bunch of abandoned houses throughout the city," - He continued. - "We can try to locate one, and make it our headquarters." -

He then glanced over his shoulder, to the rest of the Anirian group.

- "We should split up here." - He told two other initiates. - "You two go East, survey the mountains, and then join us back in Arran. We need to know if something's about to come out of those hills." -

With a head nod, the two pulled the reins of their mounts and changed course, heading towards a lateral path that led up the steep slopes all around them.

As they disappeared behind a tall rock formation, Ivan pulled his hood up, so as to hide his straw-blonde hair, and urged Naspie forward, towards the gates of the city.

Rhidian​

 

[Rhidian]

Rhidian watched as the two Initiates didn't make a fuss at Skender giving them an order, moving towards the east.

"Alright then, somewhere to base our order of operations." He leaned back, hand grasping at the haphazardly folded map he stuff in his saddle bag. "Quinnick drew these up. Updated with the last reports too..." And she had made plenty of notes in the margins of best places to station themselves for defensive reasons. He wondered to himself if she should have tagged along, but the Compass was deemed too important for another mission. And thus, they lost someone that spoke Kaliti.

"There's apparently a goldsmith workshop and shopfront in one building. Has a vault, but the business has moved on." Rhid recalled the reports he had read, the very same ones Ivan mentioned. A lot of fmailies and business decided to move further into the Empire, as if they would still be protected there. "A vault can act as a cell, right? Just in case, of course."

Was that possibly a good place to stake a claim on?

 

[Ivan Skender]

- "Mhmm." - He muttered absent-mindedly. He recalled the place. The two of them - him and Livia, that was - had planned to rob it before Quinnick's magics had led them to an even more conspicuous target instead, the first time he'd been to Tell Arran.

In whichever case, the idea was good. The vault could indeed come in handy, while the building's previous use as a goldsmith meant that there was always a chance its former owners could've left some gold behind in their hurry to leave the city.

- "Sounds like a plan." - He said, before shifting his gaze to the gates of the walled city that drew nearer and nearer in front of them.

- "But first we need to get there." - Taking into account the... delicate nature of their mission, the last thing they needed was to stir a mess by the main gate of the city.

In all fairness, he was not entirely sure what to expect upon entering Tell Arran. Though dealing with civil disturbances was a rather common aspect of being an initiate, infiltrating a city-state at war with itself was - in his mind at least - another matter entirely.

That being said, this part of the city did seem eerily quiet. The road was deserted, the settlement immersed in sepulchral silence and the gates were... they were... deserted?

He rubbed his eyes to make sure the scorching sun was not playing pranks on his eyesight, nor on his mind, but no, there were indeed no guards at the entrance.

- "Keep your eyes peeled." - He told Rhidian.​

 

[Rhidian]

Rhidian looked away from the map, stowing it without too much gentle care, but set his sights on the gates before them.

"Take it that it was never this quiet last you were here." His recount of people and trade, armed guards, none of it could help him envision the border city be as what Ivan had spoke about. That had been months ago! "Reckon we can just stroll in, not say a word?"

He could see where he would station men and numbers along the battlements, how he could stop any advancing enemies.... but no movement from above gave indication they would be stopped. And so his eyes fell to the opened gates, trying to see if anyone was being stopped as they entered, to see if any sign of contact would be made by any Kaliti people.

But with Rhidian and Ivan leading, the group of Initiates strode on through.

 

[Sybille]

Sybille sat quietly in the corner of the small outdoor tavern. Her leg kicked up and down at a constant rate, gently shaking the tea which sat on the table in front of her. Outwardly she tried to appear as calm and dispassionate as possible, her eyes watching the gate opposite her with a quiet distaste as though it were the most droll thing she could possibly have been put in front of.

Truth was though, her chest was a knot of anxiety.

It had been almost three days now since Os had left to head east and meet up with the others. The plan had been for him to be gone for nearly a week, but Sybille never much liked being alone. With the recent troubles Tell Arran had been the perfect place for their stopover, but now that she was waiting by herself she couldn't help the nerves which slowly frayed within her mind.

She wasn't worried about herself, of course. Her magic made sure she was safe. Her concern was for Osbert. They hadn't been apart for this long since…since they'd met, and the thought of something happening to him made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

That was why she was sitting here.

Why, even four days before he was scheduled to come back she had planted herself at this bar and simply watched for his arrival.

It was stupid. She knew, but in truth there wasn't much else for her to do. If it she wasn't sitting and waiting here, then she would be sitting and waiting at the small apartment they had taken for themselves. At least watching the gate soothed some of her anxiety, even if Os wasn't going to appear for another week. Watching the flow of people was somehow comforting, calming.

Until she saw a familiar face in the crowd.

Eyebrows sprung up almost immediately as she spotted him. Her gaze drilling into his features as she checked every memory she had. The former Initiate couldn't recall his name, but he'd been at the Academy, Sybille was sure of it. Younger than her, but he'd been there. She could still remember his cocky nature on the training fields as classes had swapped.

Quickly her eyes darted to the others who clearly rode at his side. Two, she didn't recognize, but the fourth was just as familiar.

Her lips pressed to a thin line. Vel Anir is making a move.

Sybille thought to herself, anxiety slipping away as her mind began to work. Lip quirking in a smile. Realizing very quickly that an Anirian presence her might be very helpful to her and Os. Reaching into her pocket, Sybille pulled out a small copper coin. Tossing it onto the table and leaving her tea untouched as she set off after the Anirians.

 

[Ivan Skender]

- "No." - He replied to Rhidian's remark. The city had indeed not been this quiet then. Though locals still strolled through the streets, shopkeepers plied their businesses, and some customers even took the warm embrace of this sunny day to get some shopping done before re-entering their homes, something was amiss. Gone were the hustle and bustle of the merchants of Tell Arran, as were the loud-mouthed salesmen, or the cheerful squeals of the street urchins. As he looked around, Ivan could only see a handful of passers-by timidly running from shop to shop, as though they wished their presence would pass unnoticed. Something was not right.

Though Ivan appeared normal to the untrained eye, his Anirian comrades would notice a perceptible change of posture, as his muscles tensed, and his usually relaxed semblant hardened into a forced neutral expression.

- "Let's try to do that." - He said without facing his colleagues, his ice-grey gaze instead fixed on the dwellings that rose up the slope of the mountain, as well as on the great towers of the kasbah beyond. - "But no stopping here, we make straight for the goldsmith." -

Something was not right.

Indeed - unbeknownst to the initiates - something had not been right in Tell Arran for the past few days. Maybe Sybille had also missed it on her end, being so enraptured by her own anxiety that she could've been forgiven for missing the tension that bubbled away just beneath the surface of the entire city.

It was subtle at times; a brusque cut-off here, a curtly reply there, and how everyone seemed to throw a dissimulated look over their shoulder every now and again, as though they expected something to happen at a moment's notice. The signs were subtle, yes, but they had been there. What Sybille had experienced over the past few days, and what the newly-arrived Anirians were experiencing right now was not the war-torn Tell Arran of the rumours, but rather the city as it prepared for something bigger. Something everyone knew was coming, and that lay just around the corner.

The deep breath before the plunge.

And so it was that, as the blonde relentlessly scanned his surroundings for any little, negligible sign of trouble, there came the one ultimate warning nobody in that city could ignore.

From the heights the beating of drums bellowed all of a sudden, submerging the city in their deafening roar as they echoed past the great medina of Tell Arran and off the peaks above. Horns rang aloud, and thundering cries of war clamoured in Kaliti from somewhere else in the city.

Immediately, all around them, the locals fled for safety. Shopkeepers shuttered their stores, shoppers slunk into the side streets, disappearing into the shadows of the narrow alleyways, and even the tavern where Sybille had been seating just moments ago locked its doors, though not before an elderly waitress had gone outside to retrieve the cup of tea the redheaded Anirian had left untouched on the table.

His heart racing, and his hand clutching the hilt of his sword as tightly as he could, Ivan was about to call for a retreat out of the city when their situation became even more precarious. From behind them, originating from the battlements, and from within the cramped houses and shacks that lined up against the walls of the city, another round of high-flown war cries rose.

And then the arrows flew.

- "Cover!" - He bellowed to the other initiates as an arrow whistled past him to imbed itself in the mudbrick wall behind, just centimetres away from the head of his beloved black camel.

Sybille Rhidian​

 

[Rhidian]

He felt it as soon as they walked past the gates, the thickness in the air and how the locals seemed to scurry as if they knew something was to come. It reminded him of the field mice back home, how they could feel the vibrations in the earth to tell them to hide.

Rhidian felt the air shift before the war cries reached their ears.

He turned to look at Skender, seeing his hand reach for his sword as Rhid also made a move for his dual swords, but changed course as soon as the ruckus sounded from above. The first volley of arrows missed them, but he had been ready for the next. His hands charged with magic and pushed out against the space of air between the Initiates and the arrows trained towards their path, disrupting their descent upon them. Shockwaves seemed to put a few on the battlements on unsteady feet, and that gave Rhidian time to look around and assess the situation.

"All exits blocked." He retrieved one sword, leaving a hand free to use his magic in case they needed to fight off more projectiles. "I can't even detonate without fear of hurting innocents." He could take down the battlements, put rubble between them and the enermy line coming their way.

Sybille Ivan Skender

 

[Sybille]

WHY?!

Why did this always happen, every time. This was exactly why she had left Vel Anir with Os and the others. It seemed that wherever Anirians went, violence followed quickly after.

Not that Sybille really minded violence. Her natural magics meant she was harder to hurt than most others, but the chaos and unpredictability of these situations sent her nerves on edge. If she didn't think the fools could help her and Os, then she would have just walked away and let them turn this city into another warzone.

Instead though, Sybille cursed herself and charged into the frey.

Half a dozen arrows struck around her as she recklessly charged into the street. Her steps dancing around the pointed bolts as they struck the ground around her. One finding only the briefest purchase upon her skin, rending her alabaster flesh but revealing not the crimson of blood, but instead a splatter of magma. It cast against the ground, hissing and sending a look of confusion across the face of the attackers who noticed the injury.

”Hey!” Sybille shouted to Ivan, Rhidian, and the others.

Her voice booming loud enough to be heard over the chaos.

”This way!” She called to them as she waved and pointed them to a short alleyway just beside her. Though she'd only been in town for a few days, Sybille had made sure to know every exit and rat tunnel in the place. A way to stem her own anxieties, and something she was not blissfully thankful for. Trust me

This time Sybille did not speak the word, but instead quickly flickered her fingers in the sign language all Dreadlords were taught.

 

[Ivan Skender]

Utter chaos erupted as more and more combatants joined the fray. First the arrows flew, peppering the small Anirian column, as well as a number of natives that had also attempted to flee, but soon enough the ground troops showed up to back their rangers.

From over the walls, a host of warriors descended upon the until-recently unsuspecting initiates. Clad head-to-toe in immaculate-white robes, with silvery veils and red-tinged, ivory face-masks whose edges seemed lost beneath their knotted, triangular-shaped headgear, the fighters made for the small Anirian grouping with sanguine speed.

And that was not all.

From the mountain heights opposite the wall another horn blew, this one closer than before. Ivan glanced up the hill to see an army of non-descript warriors barrelling down the slope. They looked big, really big. Large enough in fact to stand shoulder-to-shoulder with some of the lower houses, though he really couldn't tell which species these newcomers belonged to. Maybe orcs? Maybe even more than one single race? And was that a fucking troll?

He didn't have the time to process much more for one of the white-clad vigilantes was upon him. He unsheathed his sword with a fluid movement, parrying the strike aimed at him with sleek dexterity while at the same time keeping Naspie the camel in tow as the beast bleated afflictively, kicking and punting all the while.

He deflected a couple more of his opponent's attacks, taking a few slashes here and there in return, before he managed to finally blast his foe with a lethal dose of his decay magic. It was during this brief respite that he would at last hear the voice of apparent salvation.

His head snapped to where he'd heard the cry first arise from, only to find a redheaded girl motioning towards them... wait, no, not motioning, signalling. He watched on for a split-second, still trying to process the fact that this stranger seemed to be well-versed in silent talking, and not just any silent talking, but rather the sign language of the Dreadlords.

Trust me. It seemed to say, and he would've been damned if he had believed it, but at that moment, with enemies on both sides converging onto their exposed position, he didn't see any other way out.

- "To the alley!" - He bellowed to his compatriots, as he urged his camel forward. - "Follow the redhead!" -

He would turn around just in time to parry yet another one of the veiled warriors.

- "Nevermind about the innocent!" - He would call out to Rhidian, as he pushed his assailant away. - "Blow up the battlements now! We need to cover for our retreat!" -

Rhidian Sybille​

 

[Rhidian]

Rhidian need not be told twice to bring down something.

Magic charged within his chest before spreading to his hands, and in slow yet purposeful moves, the Initiate sent a wave of destruction from his palms. He pushed with both hands, and watched as it rippled towards the battlements. Stone and archers were caught in explosion, but Rhidian did not stop. He willed his charge to take root elsewhere along the stone, and all at once, explosion wracked through the stone and mortar.

Dust gave them cover, and Rhidian turned to catch the redhead in question disappearing. Between himself and her, Ivan caught quarrel with one of the Veiled Ones. Magic threw them back after Ivan managed to push them back, not stopping to see who else may be following. He joined Ivan at the alley's opening, eyes set on the red hair flaming before him.

Just their luck, they were barely inside the walls of Tell Arran before this shitshow began.

"Fuck!" He yelled, throwing himself against a wall to allow Ivan to pass and using his magic to bring down some stones behind them. It should slow them, hopefully, but as he ran to catch up, Rhidian knew he saw different shapes of beings.

Sybille Ivan Skender

 

[Sybille]

Kress. What had she gotten herself into?

Would Os be mad?

What if she'd put the others in danger?

A thousand questions ran through Sybille’s mind as she watched Rhidian's magic cut a bloody swath over the battlements. Their assailants apparently undeterred as arrows and men in heavy steel quickly tromped after them. Another explosion rang out, and a tumble of rocks crashed Into their foes path.

The runaway let out a curse, as she twisted her head, turning for only a brief moment as she called to the Initiates. ”Down here!”

She called as her eyes flared a bright red.

The earth just before he seemed to flare, and then instantly turn to a slurry of magma. The ground melting within an instant as it was dragged away, clearing a path into a dark passage below.

As soon as it was cleared, Sybille whirled around in her place. Turning to face the coming Initiate's. Her eyes sparking once more as she planted her feet and then wrenched her hand back. The earth just behind the last Anirian's feet melting away, and then pushing down the alleyway in a tidal wave of superheater magma. Screams echoing out as those who had scrambled over Rhidian's barrier found themselves burned by a river of fire.

”Go!” Sybille called, the skin around her eyes cracked and broken. Heat burning from her flesh as though she were the sun itself.

 

[Ivan Skender]

Ivan glanced sideways from the improvised underground passage to the girl urging them on, and then back to the passage.

In the distance, somewhere beyond Rhidian's barricade, a loud crashing sound swept through the lower city, the shockwave so powerful one could be forgiven for assuming they had just felt an entire fortress being toppled. Knowing better than that though, Ivan could easily assume that was the troll he'd glimpsed at earlier, hacking away at its foes as it made its way towards them... something which the blonde really did not want to see become a reality.

As Sybille's magma impeded the movements of their enemies, Ivan forced his panicked camel underground, tying the beast just by the entrance to the passage, as he waited for the remaining members of their little group to find their way to the passage.

- "Thanks." - He would tell the girl dryly in low Anirian, once all of the initiates had arrived. That she was one of them - another Academy-trained Anirian, that was - had been made clear by her usage of the sign language they all shared, though what her rank and status were, was still unclear to him. He already knew all the other initiates that had also come on the mission, and as far as he was aware, there were no other Anirian personnel stationed in Tell Arran.

The only other option that occurred to him then was that maybe the Academy had had a change of heart and sent them a graduated Dreadlord as back-up... a thought that annoyed him to no end. The last thing he needed was a babysitter.

- "Now this is the part where you tell us who you are, and what a Dreadlord is doing in Tell Arran." -​

 

[Rhidian]

Rhidian threw himself into a wall in order to slow down, to catch his breath as they found solace in he underground. Already, the temperature was cooler despite the presence of magma in their wake. Fuck, that was definitely not on his plan for the day. Vaughn took the time to check his gear, finding everything in their place, bar the map he had begged Quinnick help make notes of key points of interest.

Well, let's just hope they don't need that anytime soon.

Ivan's voice brought his attention to the red head that helped their group escape the attackers, lifting his head to watch the stranger, the Anirian, explain her reasoning here in Tell Arran.

At first, he did not think anything of it, but his interest was piqued.

 

[Sybille]

Sybille frowned for a moment as Ivan launched into his minor interrogation. Her mind briefly flickering with that same anxiety as she wondered once again if she'd fucked up.

Did she tell them the truth? Did she lie?

They had no way of confirming whether or not she was a Dreadlord. Ivan might remember her from the Academy, but whether or not she graduated didn't really matter. There was no proving the facts either way, especially if she claimed she'd tossed her insignia to keep herself underwraps. "I'm not a Dreadlord."

She stated finally, deciding that the truth was simpler, at least a piece of the truth.

"Exile." It seemed easier as an excuse than 'runaway'. She'd never made it to the tower, mostly because she'd run with Os just a few weeks before. There'd been little doubt that she would have won her fight, but Vel Anir had never been her home. Not really. "Remembered you from the Academy."

Sybille forced a smile onto her face, looking Ivan directly in the eyes. "Figured we could help each other out."

She said, her gaze turning towards some of the other Initiates.