Open Chronicles Rebels

[Selene Avar]

Aberresai Savannah - Greater Plains

Selene sat quietly on her horse, lips thin and eyes fixed on the horizon. She could see flames rising in the distance, the outline of a small village crossing just ahead of her vision.

The group would reach it inside of an hour.

They had traveled to the greater plains over the course of the last week, she, one other Dreadlord, Twelve Anirian Knights, and thirty Anirian Guardsmen. All of them were tired, even weary, though most were still more than combat ready. That was why they were here after all; combat.

A week previously one of the minor noble houses of Vel Anir had attacked on one of the cities major mines out here in the plains. Nobody exactly knew why, but they had slaughtered all the workers and declared their independence from the city itself. Taking the mine for itself and occupying the small castle beside it.

In a surprising show of cooperation the Great Houses had come together and commanded a force to put down the rebellion.

Selene was in charge of that force.

The situation was utterly baffling to her. The Savannah was home to nomadic peoples as well as a few scattered villages, most of whom would rather just be left alone rather than being dragged into some conflict between Vel Anir and it's client Houses.

Yet here she was, intending on doing exactly that. Someone had overstepped, and Selene would ensure that they were dragged back over the line. It would start with this village.

It was said to be hosting a small group of the rebels who attacked the mine, and if they caught be could she could...extract some information from them. "Lets go."

She said coldly to the man sitting besides her, kicking her horse and leading her party towards the village.

 

[Duresh]

"Have a seat," said the man.

And Duresh did. Surveyed the inside of the modest home. The six other fighting men who stood about the main room and eyed him with suspicion even though one of them held all of Duresh's weapons and traveling pack.

"So you want to talk on behalf of Vel Anir," said the man as he leaned back in his own chair. A delighted smirk. "So let's talk. We will at least...entertain what the Great Houses have to say."

Rare. That the Great Houses of Vel Anir could all agree on something. It was as if the air itself had been seized, or the water supply poisoned. No. The Telmach family had threatened the third most common and important thing to Vel Anir: iron. And that just wouldn't do.

"They are concerned," Duresh said. "About the iron."

The man sitting across from him laughed, as did a few of the fighting men. Duresh didn't break eye contact. Didn't blink.

"Well no shit. My Lord isn't so interested in their obvious concerns. He is, however, open to certain concessions. Trade agreements. Offers. This could continue, or this could go away. I don't know. I'm not one of the men in charge. But, I imagine, this is only going to get more embarrassing, the longer this goes on."

Yes. And it was especially embarrassing for the Crentor family. Duresh's true allegiance lay with House Banick and his father, but it couldn't be seen as such. So the Crentors functioned as the men and women in the middle. And even they distanced themselves some by having a trusted human handler 'hire' him as an independent sellsword.

When news of the rebellion arrived in the city proper, it didn't take long for him to be hired in this manner. Crentor and Telmach were quite publicly on good terms with one another, even a couple marriages between the two minor houses though Duresh could hardly name them, nor did he care to. Every effort was made to separate themselves from Telmach then. One such effort being that they would finance and send an emissary, and that would be Duresh.

A pretense, of course. No negotiations would be made. But an assessment of the rebels' strength could be. Only, it didn't work out like that, nor did the Crentors and Banick above them expect as such. Duresh had approached the mine and the castle and the surrounding town with the traditional white flag raised. He explained his intentions to the riders who came out to meet him. And they were here now, having brought him away from their main stronghold at the castle to this small speck of a village, a midway between the captured mine and Vel Anir. They were cautious. Apprehensive. But still giddy from their success.

The man made some gestures with his hands. "This doesn't have to be a rivalry. It could be a...co-existence."

"A co-existence," Duresh said.

A pause. "Hey. Ask you a question."

"And that would be?"

"Do you ever fucking blink?"

"Do you?"

They stared at each other for a moment.

And the man blinked. The involuntary overcoming him. His eyes betrayed his inward cursing at himself.

"Present your Lord's terms, if he has any," Duresh said. "Perhaps he will be surprised by what the Houses are willing to agree to."

"Which Houses?"

Duresh couldn't help but to smirk a bit. "All of them."

The sitting man and the fighting men all looked around at each other and smiles and grins and exhilarated gasps and excited curses were shown and made and said. That giddiness. The high of victory. They thought to ride it forever.

But no such agreements would be made. No. Duresh was told to expect some company, if they did not allow him into the castle or the mine. The plains offered amazing sight-lines. Amazing enough for a spotter or two to watch and see where Duresh would be brought and to do so unnoticed himself.

And now it was known that this little village harbored some small portion of the rebels.

Duresh's final instructions: Ensure that at least one of the rebels was taken alive.

 

[Selene Avar]

The village was not a particularly large one, compared to a city like Vel Anir the thing was practically a minor suburb. There were a few houses, a windmill, two warehouses and of course a tavern.

All told Selene would have guessed that less than a hundred people lived in this village full time, with a dozen or so others constantly coming through to trade of rest for travel. That meant her own party could likely kill everyone in the village without much trouble from anyone.

Excellent. Selene thought to herself as they rode into the village square.

Some villagers watched the riders as they entered the town, others grabbed children and headed inside, and others still spat onto the floor in disgust.

Vel Anir was not popular here.

"Errel." Selene called out to the other Dreadlord she had taken with her, the man stiffening slightly as she spoke. "Find the Mayor, bring him to me."

There was a curt nod as Errel slipped from his horse and headed off towards one of the larger buildings in sight.

Selene herself lingered on her horse, dismounting only after surveying the villagers that were still watching. Two of the Anirian Knights followed her lead, setting down on the ground with heavy clanking of their armor. "Make sure nobody causes any trouble."

The two Knights nodded, and Selene watched as they set off to address the rest of the men.

Anirian Knights were a valuable resource, one she was glad to have along. The Knights were guardsmen who had been promoted for their exceptional service to Vel Anir. Each one of them had served at least a decade with the Guard, participated in three campaigns, and passed a rigorous test. They were exceptional fighters, and each of them carried a weapon forged by one of the artificer Dreadlords of Vel Anir.

Selene was pleased to have a dozen of them here.

She would need it if what she suspected was correct.

 

[Duresh]

They didn't get very far into their talk.

Duresh heard it, the hooves of the horses outside. Heard it before any of the men inside the home appeared to. Only some moments later did one of the fighting men, leaning up against the wall beside the glassless window of the main room, spare a curious glance outside. His expression changing immediately. He dropped down from sight and moved away from the window.

"Shit!" he hissed. "Soldiers."

The rest of the men tensed. Some moving to the other side of the room to be out of line of sight from the window as best they could.

The sitting man, who still hadn't introduced himself, glared at Duresh. "You son of a bitch."

Duresh sat. Calm. Raised his hands up to his shoulders in a gesture of surrender and innocence. "They are here on other business," he said. "Obviously. If the Houses wanted to risk taking back the mine by force, then would they not have sent their soldiers directly there?"

A lie. To buy time. To keep the rebels calm and quiet in the hopes that if they remained so the soldiers would move on. But he had to be ready. The main room window was an option. There was no door to the bedroom in this meager home, and he didn't know if there was a window there or not, but it could serve as a chokepoint. Hm. A spot of hand-to-hand combat practice. Might work out.

The sitting man, the Lord's liaison, stood up and motioned for Duresh to do the same. He did. And the liaison got behind him and put a dagger to his throat and backed them both up against the wall with the rest of the men. Duresh didn't resist. Yet.

"This is a poor strategy," Duresh said.

"Seems serviceable enough to me."

"It isn't. Why do you think the Houses hired me to parley with you? Certainly your Lord knows that no one of value would be sent without an equal exchange of hostages."

The liaison hesitated. "Well, better you taking a crossbow bolt or an arrow than me."

"Funny you should mention that. You stand still thinking they won't shoot right through me and you will have a terrible and brief day. I'd venture to say you haven't seen the penetration potential of a bolt or an arrow aimed at the gut and fired at close range. No bones to stop it, provided one doesn't aim dead center and hit the spine.

"Shut up!" the liaison whispered.

Footsteps. Outside the door and outside the window.

 

[Selene Avar]

The Soldiers moved passed the home without much interest.

They weren't going to burn the rebels out just yet. Selene had been told to be as gentle with the local populace as possible. Igniting a further rebellion by destroying villages would not be welcomed. If a bigger contingent of the Guard had to be sent out here things would be...unpleasant for her.

Lips thinned as she observed her men spread about the village, and she motioned for one of the Anirian Knights to come to her side. "Make sure no one leaves the village."

They weren't going to break down doors, but while she was here nobody would be leaving here. The Knight nodded his head and rushed off to the others. Within a few moments Guardsmen and Knights both began to spread out through the village, taking points of exit and a few even climbing atop buildings for better vantage points.

None of them asked for permission of course, no one cared about civilians.

Least of all Selene.

A few moments later The Dreadlord caught sigh of Errel returning. Behind him stood a tall man, a white beard decorating his face and a hat on his head. She presumed he was the mayor.

 

[Duresh]

Time passed. No one came to the door. And this served only to make the small group of seven rebels even more anxious. All of them pressed to the same wall and some crouching and all looking to the window which could, if viewed from the right angle, give away their presence from the outside. Low whispers among them.

"What are they doing?"

"I don't fucking know. Have a look if you want."

"Fuck you."

"Just keep your wits about you, man."

"Well same to you."

The liaison spoke to Duresh then. Low and quiet. Said, "Do they know you? The soldiers?"

"How would I know if they do or not?" Duresh said. "I've yet to see who is out there."

The dagger to his throat. And the liaison said, "Well who knows you've been sent out here? Huh?"

"Hardly much of anyone. Maybe the same amount we've here in this house." The truth. Of a sort. It would be known that the Crentor family sent an 'emissary' on an intelligence gathering mission. It may or may not be known exactly who they had sent, nor did it specifically matter if it was known. Only the information mattered. Or, as it turned out, the lookout spying where the rebels had taken him so that they could guide in the iron fist of Vel Anir.

"How much work do you do in Vel Anir? Are you well known? Will they recognize you, maybe?"

"I am known to specific people."

The liaison thought for a moment. "Alright. Fuck it. They come knocking, you open the door and do the talking. Don't let them in and say whatever shit you need to say to make them go away. I'll be behind you and the door so if you try something you're getting the dagger. Got me?"

Duresh thought about it. This could work. They had no crossbows or bows or magic among them. Only the thrust of the liaison's dagger was of concern. The timing would need to be right. Act at the most unexpected moment.

 

[Selene Avar]

The conversation with the mayor was an uninteresting one, so uninteresting in fact that Selene practically began to tune the whole thing out.

Instead she focused on one of the Anirian Knights.

The man was known to her, though his name escaped her at the moment. He was a good soldier, had been with her on another campaign into the Falwood. An expert swordsman, she would have given some of the Dreadlords a run for their money with a blade.

She wondered if he'd asked to be assigned with her. Such things were not unheard of.

--

Arthru stepped up to the doorway, flanked by two Anirian Guardsmen.

He did not know either of the men with him, mostly because they had a rather large chip on their shoulder. For whatever reason men of the Guard tended to look at Knights with a certain amount of...jealousy. Perhaps it was the promotion, or perhaps just the fact that they were a step above.

Arthru didn't know, and frankly he didn't care. He was a guardsmen once, and he knew that worst came to worst these men would back him up.

His hand reached up and he knocked on the door. "Anirian Guard. Come to the door!"

No niceties added to the word.

No need.

 

[Duresh]

A forceful knocking. The abruptness prompting small jumps and starts from a few of the rebels. The liaison didn't. Good. A terrible pity it would have been to bleed out on account of some small accident.

The liaison stood and Duresh stood with him. And the rebel whispered, "Play it easy. Calm and collected. Don't die for some fuckers who couldn't give a damn about you."

* * * * *​

Duresh turned to go. There would be no more talking. He had set his mind to it. Going to Vel Anir. Meeting his father. Meeting him now that he was a man.

But mother lunged forward. Took his arm with both hands. Duresh stopped. Looked back to her. Her eyes wet with tears.

The bustle of Alliria about them. The clanking of a hammer pounding metal; another blacksmith plying his trade.

And mother said, "Please don't go, Duresh. You are my son. And I love you."

Duresh said nothing. Stood there with a heart choked with sorrow even if face did not betray it. Stood until his mother relented and her hands slipped from his arm.

Duresh needed to know.

If his father loved him too.

* * * * *​

"I am not dying today," Duresh said, low and quiet.

"Good. Then play along."

Duresh walked to the door, the liaison right behind, the dagger moved from his neck to his side. The point of the blade pressed against his clothing. Duresh stopped before the door. Grabbed the handle. The liaison shifted to the right, putting himself behind the swing of the door.

And Duresh opened it. A quarter of the way. His body standing in the gap.

Three Guardsmen. Men he didn't recognize, nor would he. He didn't know if they might recognize him.

"Good afternoon," Duresh said.

The right moment. Wait for the right moment.

 

[Selene Avar]

"We need to search your home." Arthru offered no explanation, no reason why, nor any choice.

His face was hidden by the heavy helmet he wore, though through the eyeslits Duresh might have been able to see a gaze stern enough to melt steel.

The Anirian Knight had never been a patient man. Even as a child he'd always attempted to do things as quickly and as efficiently as possible. It was a character trait that had always hindered him the most, though more than once an instructor had told him it also helped.

Strange.

"Step aside." He ordered. "Or you will be made to."

Again, no option.

These were Anirian Knights, Guardsmen. Men who served within the greatest military in the world. Anyone questioning them was questioning the Great Houses.

Couldn't have that.

 

[Duresh]

The Guardsman didn't recognize him. A circumstance both good and bad. Good for reasons not immediate, bad for reasons very immediate.

A demand. To enter. His tone one that did not leave room for any manner of protest or bargaining. Attempts at such would swiftly be shut down. He was entering the house. The only question was how forcefully he would do so.

No right moment. Only this moment. A split second to act, for the liaison would know too that no ruse was possible.

A barrage of events happening simultaneously. Duresh throwing the door open and thereby slamming it into the liaison. The rebels shouting. The dagger thrust to the hilt into Duresh's side.

Duresh stumbled off to his right and close to the window and the chair the liaison had been sitting in earlier. A snap judgment. That the window actually appeared to be too small to jump out of. Not cleanly. Not with a struggle, leaving his legs vulnerable.

Men rushed. One at the door and at the Guardsman, axe raised and poised to chop. Another man at Duresh. So Duresh wrapped his foot around the leg of the chair and kicked it up into the air and caught it and tossed it at the man. The wood smacking the man square in the face, sending him reeling back past his fellows and into the wall again.

Duresh grabbed the handle of the dagger and with a grunt of pain pulled it out. Blood flowing freely.

He brandished the dagger out in front of himself. Backed into one corner of the main room. Seconds mattered. He would need to fend off the rebels until the Guardsmen gained control of the situation.

 

[Selene Avar]

Arhtru moved with a flicker of motion.

The sword at his side was drawn from it's scabbard in the blink of an eye, It's sharp edge slicing over the length of his attackers throat almost as soon as the blade was free. For a moment blood seemed to rest upon it, and then just as quickly disappeared into nothingness.

Before anyone else could move one of the guardsmen that had been standing at his side pressed forward and into the room. In his hand was another sword, and it quickly flickered towards the man attacking Duresh.

The entire room seemed to expose into chaos, enough to catch the attention of those in the square.

--

Selene turned her head just in time to see one of her Anirian Knights behead some axe wielding local. Her lips immediately thinned and an extreme displeasure spawned across her features as she observed a head fall onto the ground.

She had no doubt there was just cause for the assault, but the sight of it happening so soon after their arrival was...displeasing. "SECURE THAT HOUSE!"

Her voice boomed out like thunder.

Every Knight and Guardsmen that hadn't already been assigned to a task immediately drew their weapons and rushed over towards the home, surrounding it and ensuring no exit was to be found.

 

[Duresh]

The house and its main room were already small enough, and now it was choked with men and a melee. The close quarters combat so much in its closeness that all of the rebels couldn't attack the three Guardsmen all at once. They'd hardly even room to properly maneuver their weapons. Elbows and backhands inadvertently found allies in the struggle and the fighting. Things fell from shelves and baskets and chairs were kicked over and stumbled into.

A measure of chaos, certainly.

Duresh noticed the man who had been holding his weapons and all his tools had dropped them. But Duresh's armaments might as well have been across an ocean, for all the freedom and ability he had now to reach them.

The rebel approaching him, face contorted with anger, took a slash at him. Enough room to dodge, sliding across the wall as the blade hit the wood. Duresh grabbed the man's swordarm and stabbed his dagger into the wrist, crook of the elbow, and under his arm, three strikes all in rapid succession.

A Guardsman. Coming up behind the rebel. Sword in hand.

Duresh let go of the rebel and planted his foot into the man's body and kicked him back. Intending for the man to stumble right into the Guardsman's sword.

And melee continued.

 

[Selene Avar]

The Guardsmen's blade stabbed through the mans chest. Impaling him upon the length of the blade and sending a look of shock and surprise across both his face, and that of the Guards.

Little time to think presented itself however. The Melee seemed to go on for an hour, though the reality was more like seconds. Arthru carved with his blade, the sword strangely vibrating as it whistled through the air and cut into flesh. Another rebel dropped, then another, and then suddenly it was over.

The tiny room seemed to fill with heat as three more Guardsmen appeared from the doorway, half of them brandishing weapons of some sort.

One might have thought that the Anirians intended to slaughter everyone inside, but these men were trained. Those who did not attack them did not receive a sword to the throat. Instead each of them was threatened, a weapon pointed in their face, an eye kept on every inch of their body.

The Soldiers were ready to kill, but held back.

"What the hell is this?" Selene's voice was pure fire as she stepped through the door.

 

[Duresh]

The fury of violence. Striking like lightning, distorting time with either a shrinking or an extending thereof, and departing with much the same swiftness as it had come.

This was the world Duresh had volunteered himself into. Away with the toiling peace of the smithy, the contentedness of being present in simple work and the enjoyment of creation and fixing. Away with the caring kinship of his mother and the promise of rejoining his kind in the way of life most ancient and venerable.

Things would never be quite the same. That oblivious peace. What did one do upon so discovering the immense capacity lurking within their soul for war?

He looked to the dead man who had been impaled. Perhaps Duresh had not volunteered himself at all. Perhaps he had been chosen. Brought into the fold. Whether it was his wish or not.

All but two of the rebels had been slain. The liaison, his hands up and palms shown to the Guardsman, the man having disarmed himself by stabbing his dagger into Duresh. The door had creaked and swung back some to reveal his presence, and he was immediately put at swordpoint. The other man, the last in the line of rebels to engage, decided very much against it and dropped his weapon when finally there was room for him to fight.

And a red-haired woman entered then. An air of command and magic. And if that was so then she undoubtedly was a Dreadlord.

Hand to his injured side, blood on his fingers, Duresh said, "Dreadlord. My name is Duresh. I was the one hired by the House of Crentor to act as...'emissary' to the rebels. Though they were wise not to entertain such talks in or near the mine and castle. Therefore I'm afraid that I've nothing to report of their strength and capabilities."

A glancing to the liaison and to the other surrendering rebel.

Duresh's Invisibility would have been perhaps a more useful tool than this ploy of the Crentors' devising. But they feared that House Telmach may have certain mages within their employ, magic-users who might very well have the capacity to detect his unseen presence. Mercenaries, freelancers, those with a grudge against Vel Anir in general, a traitorous Dreadlord even, many things were possible. Whether their fears were true or not remained to be seen. Still, they had deemed it too risky, and a needless waste should the worst occur, to allow Duresh to attempt infiltration.

But the ploy had failed. Now the secondary plan was in effect. And these two were unfortunate enough to be a part of it.

 

[Selene Avar]

An eyebrow immediately perked. "Crentor?"

She repeated the word for a moment, remembering that the family was a part of House Banick. Cousins she thought, though off the top of her head she could hardly recall.

The Great Houses were split into so many different branches and families that telling them apart was often impossible. Liveries usually helped, but this one did not wear any of House Banick's colors. If what he said was true, then he likely would have tried to be as low-key as possible.

Lips thinned and she glanced at the other two men who were being held.

For a moment Selene considered locking them all inside of the house and simply torching the entire building. There would undoubtedly be some displeased voices from House Banick if what the man said was true...but she could always blame miscommunication.

A moment more passed, and then she spoke.

"Take these two into the square." She motioned towards the rebels, then regarded Duresh. "You."

She pointed to the man. "There is something we can still learn."

He must have picked up something from the scum.

 

[Duresh]

He knew not the Dreadlord's affiliation. Perhaps the shortcoming of the rare cooperation between the Great Houses, that the allegiance of those involved may not be particularly obvious. And Duresh was only privy to details of Vel Anir's inner political atmosphere if and when he needed to know. Many things were kept from him. Names and faces, the colloquial "who's who" of Vel Anir's upper class, being one of them. No one of such stature wanted to directly associate themselves with a half-orc. That was the job of Duresh's handler.

He knew the deal. He had bought into it. All in the attempt to gain favor with his father.

It didn't matter, the allegiances of the Dreadlord and her retinue, in the present. The future, perhaps, once the common enemy had been dealt with. But for now a tenuous truce. With any luck.

He watched the Guardsmen escort the captive rebels from the house. Looked to the Dreadlord. Said, "I regrettably know nothing of any meaningful substance."

A small chuckle then, and he gripped his injured side with both hands then after a wince. "House Telmach seemed eager to discuss terms of an 'agreement', if what their liaison says is true. Confidence, hubris, or both. I cannot speak to their capabilities or the true strength of their forces, but perhaps one of them can be made to."

Duresh limped toward his weapons and his belt of tools there on the floor where it had been dropped. A gritting of his teeth as he stood over them. And he said, "In this, Dreadlord, I may be of assistance if you so request it. House Crentor instructed me to aid the Anirian forces coming to liberate the mine. Perhaps you are already aware, but they are keen--more keen than most I'd venture to say--to see this business with House Telmach brought to a swift and decisive conclusion."

He'd need to dress his wound. He had no bandages on his person, but mayhap there were linen sheets in the bedroom of the house. Slice a makeshift bandage from those. He could use a portion of his cloak, at worst.

 

[Selene Avar]

Selene remained quiet for a moment and once again considered killing the man. It would have made all of this far more...clean. The more Houses were involved, the more agents were skulking around, the dirtier this would eventually get.

The Dreadlord had been part of enough operations like this to know that eventually politics would come into play.

It was an inevitability when dealing with anyone from Vel Anir. Even when the Great Houses said that they would be working together they more often than not ended up stabbing each other in the back. Would this man try it? She had no doubt that he would.

These agents were predictable. "That won't be necessary."

She told the agent, frowning for a moment.

"But you're welcome to watch." Selene knew that she held all the cards here. Whatever authority this man had come with meant absolutely nothing in the face of nearly fifty soldiers.

That and her own status was well above his.

Without another word she turned, expecting him to follow and clearly not concerned for the agents wounds.

 

[Duresh]

Duresh collected his items. His weapons and his belt. Didn't put his belt back on just yet.

That won't be necessary.

A fair play. Duresh had done what was primarily required of him. And now the steel fist of Vel Anir had come, descending upon this loose detachment of rebels and this bystander village. They would talk. Of course they would talk. Time tested loyalty. Eroded all but the strongest of bonds. And torture accelerated time.

"I will. But first I must attend to my wound."

Duresh limped into the bedroom. Linen sheets on the bed. The family who lived in the house. Cowering down there in a corner. The rebels had shooed them in here, banishing them away in their own home.

Duresh regarded them. A mother. A father. Their son.

The father looked to him. A hard and firm glance, but he was no fool. He tried nothing and stayed his ground quietly, holding his wife and son, their own eyes averted down.

Duresh used a dagger to cut a strip of linen from the bedsheets and then he cut another and balled it up and pressed it to his wound and used the first strip to secure it, tying the knot in place over the injury to keep the pressure on.

He stood there a moment. Looked to the father.

Seven years. How much longer? How many more? He had given up a love and kinship he knew and cherished for one uncertain and becoming more and more dubious with each passing day.

Duresh stared back at the father. He was no fool. But perhaps the father was looking at one.

The moment passed, and Duresh limped out of the bedroom and then out of the house. Out to where the captive rebels and the impressive force of Anirian might and the Dreadlord had gathered in the village.

 

[Selene Avar]

Selene and two of the Anirian Knights had dragged their captive back to the center of the square, the other Guardsmen were not fanned out throughout the village, with a dozen of them or so going from house to house in order to check if any more Rebels could be found in hiding.

None of them doubted there would be, nor did they doubt that some had already escaped.

The Anirians were used to this sort of thing, putting down rebellions and forcing those who would go against the city state to prostrate themselves before the throne. Selene remembered the first campaign of this sort she had been on. Her mentor at the time, a man that Arthis, had not been as kind as she.

He'd been a powerful Dreadlord, his magic laying within the flame like her own.

In response to a rebellion on the coast he had razed three entire villages, burning them each in turn and threatening to take more if the rebels did not surrender. The human cost had been...high, but the method had been admittedly effective at stunting the growth of the rebels.

Not that Selene was eager for such tactics.

She had her own methods. "Bring them to their knees."

There was sharp kicks, and both of the captives were pushed onto their knees in the center of the town.

 

[Duresh]

The village was small. A meager clinging of scant civilization amidst the Savannah. One in the company of countless others like it, not in location but in spirit. These were the sort of the villages that fell helplessly into the sphere of Vel Anir's influence.

Some glances as Duresh slowly walked. Watching the Guardsmen perform their searches. Doors opened willingly or being made to open. None would be left unchecked. And there was no resistance to any of this that the villagers could mount that would not ultimately be unwise.

Such was the nature of Vel Anir. Order imposed. Subjugation by swordpoint.

Duresh stopped in the small village square, a few paces from Selene and her accompanying knights. The rebels made to be dropped down to their knees. They had stepped out of line, House Telmach and those associated with the takeover of the mine. And so Order would be imposed back onto them; the Order as deemed fitting by the Great Houses.

Duresh watched. He'd been in the Dreadlord's place. He'd been in the rebels' place.

In which would his service to Vel Anir, to House Banick, end?

The question which plagued him in years recent. The stoking of the fires of resentment. That which could only be suppressed for so long.

 

[Selene Avar]

Selene snapped her finger.

The moment a small clap erupted from her palm lines of flames traced through her finger tips. Heat bloomed from her hand, skin never charring and no smoke rising.

Fear filled the eyes of one of the Rebels, the other remaining as stoic as could be. "My name is Selene Avar."

Her tone was devoid of all emotion. There was no feeling in the void, no room for anger or even contempt. All there could be was the flame. She focused her attention on the man who showed fear, his weakness evident to anyone who stood within the small circle.

"House Telmach has risen in Rebellion against Vel Anir." Her hand swept forward, nearly touching the mans chest. "Why?"

"Please. No. I don't know anything, I'm Ju-"​

Before he could speak Selene reached out, her palm striking across his cheek.

Searing heat burned and melted flesh, twisting the mans skin and sending a screech of pain echoing through the entirety of the village.

 

[Duresh]

And there the terrible power of the Dreadlords.

It was not her magic. Foolishness to think so. For her magic was much like a sword. Of what deadliness was a sword without a hand to wield it? Of what deadliness was a sword in the hand of one who refused to use it, of one bound by restraint?

No. The Dreadlord's magic was secondary. It mattered not if the arcane or forged steel or even some poor improvisation graced her hand or even still her bare hands themselves. For all were tools which bent the knee to agency, subservient, made only into weapons by will and intent.

This was the power of the Dreadlords, as evidenced by the flat tone of her voice. The lack of moral restraint or quandary. The careful forging of the mind to disregard such things in light of the task--whatever it may be--at hand.

Duresh watched. Beheld the transformation of the man's face. The consuming fire in the palm of the Dreadlord's hand.

Years ago he would have recoiled in horror at the mere sight of it. Years ago he would have felt sympathy for the man. Years ago he would not have so plainly accepted such acts as a necessary and irrevocable part of the functioning of the world.

And yet he now bore witness to it. Impassively.

In this way he had been made much like the Dreadlord. The slow descent into an ever-darkening cellar, a single step at a time, until the lack of light became commonplace. Until the horrid became banal.

What happened?

 

[Selene Avar]

Her hand fell to her side, the flame upon it snuffing out as the Rebel screamed and wallowed in pain.

He would have fallen to his feat were it not for the tight hands of an Anirian Knight compressing on his shoulders and holding him in place. Selene gave the man a disinterested glance, looking at him only for a moment before she allowed her gaze to fall on his compatriot.

The once stalwart man looked at his companion in abject horror, his eyes glazed with fear and speaking a story of pure and abject terror. "House Telmach has risen in Rebellion against Vel Anir."

She said the words as cooly as she had before, taking a step towards the man.

He tried to scramble and recoil in fear, but a pair of hands grasped him just as they had grasped his friend's. As he tried to worm away fire ignited in the palm of her hand.

"Why?" She asked, the man breaking out into a stuter.

"I-I-I don't know! I was sent to negotiate! I only know what they told us!"​

Slowly the Dreadlord reached out.

"I DON'T KNOW! THE MINES! THEY CLAIM THEY FIGHT OFF ALL THE HOUSES WITH WHAT THEY FOUND THERE! PLEASE! I DONT KNOW ANYMORE!"​

 

[Duresh]

The pleasant shine of the sun. The blue sky doming the world. The light breeze.

The rebel's disfigured face in the serene day.

It worked.

Torture of an individual produced mixed results. The threat of torture was far more consistent. Desperation versus fear. A mind in panic versus a mind keen on not having such a gruesome fate befall the body at all. Anticipation tended to be moreso poisonous to resolve than pain, the latter at times even having the opposite effect.

The things Duresh knew now. The things he had been made to know as he stepped willingly into this world.

"All the Houses," Duresh said. Looking at the rebel.

A gross overestimation. A wild story meant to sound significant.

Or a truth most worrisome.

 

[Selene Avar]

Selene lowered her hand, glancing towards Duresh for a moment before turning her attention back towards the Rebels. "Magic?"

It had to be, yes?

There was no finding an army in the middle of a mine, no discovering of some hidden away military. Perhaps some artifact of power that would allow house Telmach to enhance their meager Dreadlords, or perhaps some remnant of the Age of Wonders that had long ago been forgotten and stored away.

A frown pulled at her lips. If the Rebel wasn't lying than this could be far more than just a small rebellion, far more than just a little House rising up and trying to be something that it could never be. A slight hint of worry churned in her stomach, though the concern was quickly pressed down as she tried to focus on the reality of the situation.

The rebel could still be lying.

"Agent." She addressed the man standing at her side. "Do any other Rebels know your face?"

The two tortured rebels remained crouched on their knees. One was moaning in agony, the other stared at her with absolute terror.