Fable - Ask Missed Opportunities

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
"Sure, go talk with the people that just summoned demon dogs to try and kill us."

Alistair wasn't entirely sure that's what those beasts were, but it fit the theme of the rebels hiding in a church...This was a really bad idea. The area that Demir wanted to go talk in was not ideal for protection or ambush.

Hell, the flood idea seemed better than this one. He shot Noel a look before sighing and just nodding to their temporary commander, otherwise known as the soon-to-be-dead commander.

Alistair moved off with Noel, staying quiet as they flanked around the side. He stopped long enough to respond to his classmate.

"Yes, without a doubt, but let's try to work a miracle. You handle the defense if things go south. I'll drop the rebels if they so much as twitch funny."

He pointed to another alcove a little ahead of Noel's position. "I'll be right there."

Once in position, Alistair began to weave arcane spells that hung in the air above his hand just waiting for the moment for him to release them.

Noel Demir
 
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Demir took in a deep breath as he began to walk forward. In his head he plotted out half a dozen ways this conversation would go. Most of them ended rather painfully, but he tried to keep some semblance of optimism within him. Though that hardly seemed wise in the moment.

None of the rebels turned as he stepped from the tunnel, either too consumed with their argument or simply too foolish to mark him out. The Guardsmen let out a loud whistle, letting the sound echo throughout the room.

In an instant a dozen faced whirled around towards him.

Some picked up swords and spears, others whipped out bows with arrows already knocked. "Wouldn't do that if I were you!"

The Lieutenant called out.

"I have ten Dreadlords in the tunnels all around." He lied. "You put me down, they slaughter this whole lot of ya."

It was a bluff, but a believable one. "I'm just here to talk about those...things."

The Rebels seemed to look at one another, eyes meeting eyes, lips thinning. For a few moments Demir thought that they would turn around and cut his throat, simply put an end to the enemy in their midst. Then finally an older man stepped forward.

"Tell your Dreadlords to come out, then we can talk."​
 
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"Got it. I'll do what I can." Alistair's plan was solid. Metal plates could likely keep their pet guard safe while Alistair's magic mopped up the initial attackers. She nodded as her fellow initiate signaled his movements but her gaze didn't leave Demir's visage.

She kept her focus tight, preparing to launch metal at the first sign of a problem.

Initially it looked like things might be ahead of plan, like Demir's plan would work spectacularly. The rebels didn't immediately kill him and the guardsman was doing his best to appear like a reasonable mediator.

A kind man trying to spare the foolish rebels from slaughter at the hands of... ten Dreadlords?

Bold gambit, one that the traitors tried to call him out on almost immediately. Noel frowned and for a fraction of a second considered their options. There wasn't any chance she was going to reveal herself and she assumed Alistair was of the same mind. But, maybe, just maybe, she could bolster his lie?

In a flash both of Noel's platinum pauldrons flew off. They broke into a dozen pieces and re-shaped themselves into throwing knives. It took concentration but precise control of her magic was the one thing Noel Schwarz always succeeded at in the academy.

With wide looping arcs the knives positioned themselves at various points before they flew downwards, plunging through the various holes in the chapel's roof, and landing at irregular intervals imbedding themselves into the oaken floor near Demir's feet.

A clear answer that, 'no, we ten Dreadlords will not be revealing ourselves, and if you cross this line we're going to be very, very, angry.'
 
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So yeah, that absolutely was not happening. If they popped out then they would be attacked, instantly. Either for Demir being a liar or for the fact that there were only three of them and not ten.

They had called his bluff way to quickly, and Alistair did not have much of a way of conjuring ten dreadlords. Sadly, that meant one thing. All of these rebels were about to die.

Just as Alistair was about to fire off all of his held spells, several daggers flew out from the darkness. It would seem that Noel had been faster than him, and thank goodness for that. He managed to hold off on firing the spells.

Instead, he slowly began to move the runes, discretely to surround the area. If he did have to fire them off, he could at least make it look like they were coming from all directions. It would serve to better create the illusion of more numbers.

Noel Demir
 
Demir, to his credit, did not flinch as dozen of knives stabbed into the dirt around his face. He kept his face impassive, peering at the Rebels as a few of them cursed and stepped back half a dozen or so paces. "I don't think you understand."

The Lieutenant said, his tone calm and neutral.

"This isn't a negotiation." The Guard had a reputation for being disciplined, organized. One of the best militaries in the entire world. There was no city they could not take, not with enough time. Dreadlord's though?

Their reputation was an entirely different one. They were not known for taking cities. They were known for outright obliterating them. Ending any semblance of their existence. "The only reason you're still alive is those things."

He said plainly.

"Tell me what I want to know, and instead of a pile of corpses your people may still be allowed to walk out of here." It wasn't an entirely unlikely outcome. The Republic was more merciful than it's previous outcome.

For a few moments it seemed as though the small crowd of Rebel warriors were about to argue, but the fear in their eyes gave it away. Demir could see it, the underlying terror. The horror of what they were going against. Yet that cowardice was not born of the hidden Dreadlords, no. I was the creatures.

"They...they come from the tunnels. An old myth, a tomb. They were supposed to protect the city from invaders, but when we opened the doors they...they..."​

Demir frowned for a moment, remembering what the man had said earlier. "Where are the rest of your people?"

"They fled. Those who you had not already captured left the city through the tunnels. They go on for miles. Some deeper, others just to the side of the mountain. The creatures have been using them, for all we know they already..."​

Again the man could not bring himself to speak.
 
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A keen ear was kept open to listen to the on-goings below. Demir was at least being stern with the fools, reminding them that Dreadlords weren't the kind of forces dispatched when negotiating was on the table. Noel and Alistair had been trained since adolescence to wage war.

To dispatch of foes. Not to talk or listen to demands.

But a chill ran up her spine as the traitors prattled on. These things weren't under their control, they were rabid. Territorial and apparently roaming tunnels that went on for miles. Suddenly the idea of flooding the entire underground made a lot more sense.

Flood the entire city and seal the entrance. Write this place off as a total loss. Hope that whatever those beasts are couldn't leave Vel Ostemir.

"This isn't good," Noel whispered to no one but herself.