Open Chronicles Morning, Disrupted

[Seren]

Seren offered the gelding a reassuring scratch near his coarse mane as they threaded their way through the streets toward Anir Square. Neither rider nor horse was particularly thrilled with this unexpected errand into the heart of the city. But a message from the courier indicated a horse had come up lame near the Square and the owner was in need of immediate assistance. Both gelding and farrier had been much involved in their morning activities before the request arrived, one pleasantly enjoying breakfast, the other invested in routine chores. But a lame horse waits for no one.

The city was alive and bustling, the day only recently broken over the walls of the keep. The forge was only a short distance from Anir Square but the crowded streets delayed her significantly. Guiding the gelding past carts and pedestrians with care, the brunette adjusted her seat in the saddle, her haphazard tacking of the horse resulting in the saddle bags sitting uncomfortably against her buttocks and thigh. Hopefully this would be a quick inspection, provided she could find the horse in question.

There. A chestnut mare stood uncomfortably on the edge of the road, head dropped as her owner grasped the reins still draped over her neck. The farrier closed in on the pair, the rider's gaze lifting as he caught sight of the blacksmithing guild insignia emblazoned upon her horse's breastplate. Seren nodded in confirmation as she worked her way close enough to halt the gelding and dismount.

"Morning," she began, pulling her reins over her horse's head and nearing the pair. The young man, dressed well enough to suggest he was of the merchant class, canted his head in greeting, though his expression indicated he was expecting a male farrier. Brushing past the disappointment in his eyes Seren approached his mare who made only the faintest attempt to display her displeasure. "What happened?"

"She's been lethargic all morning," he answered as the farrier approached, her own horse standing in place at the end of her reins. "I don't think she pulled the shoe but I don't think I can continue on her. She's lamer than I've ever seen her."

Seren ran her hand down the length of the chestnut's front leg lingering at the fetlock before resting at her pastern. Her hand encircled the mare's coronet, palm pressed gently to the muddy coat. Scooting closer to the horse the farrier bent over and asked the mare to lift her leg, cupping the hoof as the horse complied. Pulling an iron pick from her pocket Seren gingerly cleaned the dirt and debris from the hollowed space, following the shoe as she inspected. Once cleaned the woman ran a finger along the sole, noting the uncomfortable shifting the mare displayed as she held the leg.

"Look," she indicated with the hoof pick to the now cleaned underside. The man paused before joining her in the inspection. "That leaking by the toe. She's got an abscess."

"Will it kill her?"

"No. But she'll be down for a bit. Get her back to your stable and I'll drain it. Where do you board her?"

"Northwest stables. She's not mine though. My Master will be disappointed with this news. She's his favorite mount." The fellow stood up straight with a sigh. Pulling off his gloves and straightening the belt on his hips he cast her a critical glance. "How long before she's well?"

"I don't know," Seren answered, lowering the mare's hoof and standing as well. "A few days? We'll see once it drains."

Her final words were drowned by a cart bungling past, the cacophony giving both her horse and the chestnut cause to prick their ears forward and tense. Turning from the man, Seren choked up on her horse's reins to avoid him spooking as the man moved closer to his mare. The commotion continued, seeming to originate in the Square, some feet ahead. All four creatures turned their attention to the increasing clamor nearby.

 

[Talus]

The commotion, as it turned out was caused by Talus.

He phase-walked through the crowd in an instant, jumping between person after persona and sliding through like he was walking on ice. Just ahead of him was a man, if you could call him that. He was shrouded in a hood, his armor concealed by a thick black cloak.

In his hand was a knife, bloodied and stained with crimson. He ran as fast as he could, but the Dreadlord remained on his tail like hungry wolf.

Talus broke through the crown into Anir Square, his eyes set on the figure ahead of him as he dashed forward. The man looked back, glancing towards the Dreadlord and suddenly stumbling against a young woman. His face twisted in a gnarled smile, but it was already too late.

As the man's knife rose Talus was upon him.

In a flash of blue willowy smoke he clashed against the man. His half-broken sword flicked up, catching the bloody knife as his leg kicked out and smashed into the cloaked man's knee. He tumbled to the ground, and Talus quickly set upon him. "Varus Amor'Sadun, you're under arrest."

He hissed.

"By order of the Guard." The man yowled in pain as he was pinned to the ground directly in front of Seren.

 

[Seren]

Seren winced instinctively as the black shrouded figure made a hard landing before her, startling both her horse and the lame mare, each jerking their heads away from the commotion. The Dreadlord was upon the felled criminal with haste, asserting his capture. The farrier backed away to give the men space as her customer took his horse's reins from her.

"I'll be off," he muttered by way of goodbye, encouraging the lame horse to edge around the pair and limp in the direction of their barn. "I'll expect you then."

"Aye," Seren called out distractedly with an errant nod. Scooting her gelding further from the man and his prey she brushed dark wisps of hair behind her ear. Looking to extricate herself from situation and be on her way the woman gathered her reins to depart as well. Unfortunately it seemed the good Dreadlord stood atop one set of the split reins, the farrier having lost them during the foray.

"Pardon," she indicated with a cant of her head toward the leather beneath his shoe. She quirked a smile his direction at the folly of it. "I think you're..." again she dropped her eyes to the tack he was occupying. An apology was ready to loose from her lips as she waited his response.

 

[Talus]

"Ah." Talus said as he looked down towards the reigns.

In truth, he hadn't exactly been watching where he was going. Capturing the man had been his priority. Sadun was dangerous, a murderer, and one that had escaped the Guard for some weeks now. Noble by birth, he'd gotten away with far too much.

Slowly he took half a step back, dragging the man back and pulling him away from the woman just in case. "My Apologies."

He told her.

Half a dozen members of the guard, each dressed in thick platemail finally broke through the crowd. They walked over towards Talus, instantly snapping a salute.

"Sorry sir, we couldn't catch up."

"No worries." He told the men, offering them the captured mage.

Talus stepped away, looking at the woman with a smile. "In town for the Festival?"

The Dreadlord asked, trying to show some semblance of humanity.

 

[Nycto]

Talus Seren

Nycto watched as his target of interest got taken down and easily dispatched by what he could only assume was a dreadlord. Damn, well that complicated things.

Nycto sat on a roof, watching the events take place. He wore his usual attire of all-black, long clothing. He wore his standard black gloves and boots, too. The mask sat on his face, hiding his face from sight. The only identifiable feature on Nyct was his silvery hair.

Nycto had been tracking the criminal for some time now. Not to bring him in or anything, though Nycto did intend to do that. Nycto had his sights set on the man for a more... personal reason. He needed the man because of his connections to multiple crimes, and Nycto wanted to go into more detail on what those crimes were. Afterwards, Nycto was either going to turn him in or poison him and dump his body in a river. Whatever the case, it would have been the end of his crime spree. But no, this teleporting man brought him down in the blink of an eye. That wasn't good...

Nycto noticed about six, heavily armored individuals break through the crowd and salute the man. The man that Nycto assumed was a Dreadlord handed Varus off to the guardsmen. Excellent, they would be a lot easier to take down, especially in a crowd like this. But it was still daylight. Nycto hated the daylight...

Nyct stood up, and jumped off the roof into the crowd. He crept forward, concealed by the crowd, and planned to make his move on the Guards.

He needed the criminal, after that, then they could have him. Until then, he very much needed the man, despite despising the criminal and everything he did.

 

[Seren]

Retrieving the other half of her reins as the man withdrew his foot and the criminal Seren nodded in response to his apology. Dusting her palms on the grey fabric of her britches the farrier considered her answer. Guards appeared in the Dreadlord's wake, interrupting with their own condolences before she could respond. Ready to hasten her way out of this predicament the woman returned her gaze to the young man as he offered a smile and a question. A brow piqued over one dark eye at his query.

"The Festival?" she paused with a grin and shake of the head. "Truth be told I'd forgotten the damn thing was today. No, like you I have been otherwise occupied with work." She nodded to in the direction of the departing merchant and his lame horse.

Now that he'd engaged in her conversation the woman thought it rude to depart so hastily. Bringing her horse a step closer she sized the blond fellow up as they conversed. He was younger than her by at least five years. Classically handsome, especially in his Dreadlord attire and seemingly adept in his ability to apprehend questionable individuals.

"Though I imagine arresting criminals was not a planned part of the festivities," she observed with another smile, indicating with a glance toward the mage and the man's brethren guards. Brushing the thick braid from her shoulder to her back Seren then laid a hand on her horse's neck, surveying the man with interest.