Fable - Ask The 44th

[Felix Nevarre]

And look at this guy blushing from ear to ear, what a wolf in sheep's clothing. Felix walked over with Rory, a smile on his face.

"Hey, Arn-"

His words were cut off as his brain actually began to register Arn's introduction. He perked up at the title of Lieutenant, as she was an officer, but then the word Dreadlord seemed to sour his mood slightly. Was she like Vittoria and King, or was she more like Rhidian?

He glanced at Rhory to see what her reaction to all this would be as she was bound to be able to handle this better than he or Arn. Wait, was she a magical healer? Fuck.

"Um, nice to meet you ma'am. Looking forward to working together."

That was ok, right? He looked at Arn and quickly looked away from his bug eyes as that wasn't going to help him at all.

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

She was used to the boys stumbling on their manners, overthinking and underthinking.

Rhory stepped forward, offering a hand and a smile. "An honour, Lieutenant." Her eyes stayed on the taller young woman's gaze, noting that the name Pirian was a highly esteemed one. "Do we have the pleasure of having you at our sides on the battlefield?"

All Arn and Felix had to do was talk normally. She could see it in Kristen's demeanour she was no prissy noble, in fact, she looked kind and not at all like the other older Dreadlords the Guard have had to work with. So Kristen would have to be young and graduated during the Revolution... a kinder soul.

Someone Arn and Felix will soon find they can relax around.

"I'm off to the Commander's Tent. Want to witness them chop off my head because I took too long in bringing these maps to them?" She asked cheerily to the others, not at all put off by the ire of the Commander. Rhory was simply a cartographer. She would love nothing more than to lose the position and be sent out into the front lines again.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Arn introduced her, and Felix spoke first. Then came Rhory, less stiff than her companion, and Kristen took Rhory's offered hand and shook it; though she was reminded how much of a shame it was that her right hand was her artificial, that porcelain and adamantine would always be the first to grace her interlocutor in a handshake, instead of meeting them in kind with the human touch of flesh and warm blood beneath.

"Yes, and that very pleasure is mine as well, to join my blade with yours. I am to be with Sergeant Arn's squad for the duration."

Or until "priorities changed", and new orders superseded the old, and Dreadlord Kristen Pirian was assigned elsewhere in the war; all this likely massaged by the influences of Garron Banick, who saw in the greater movements of his country a chance to finish what he started so long ago with the Battle of the Blades. It was his intent that Kristen, the Darling Daughter of House Pirian, go into Cortos and never return, to die an ignoble death in that forsaken land, swept under the grim tide of war like Arn or Felix or Rhory or any other foot soldier Vel Anir expended so freely. But all this, these shadowy machinations, she did not know.

Rhory asked her next question, and it was answered before Kristen could speak (though she was somewhat taken aback by the severe expression of having one's head chopped off, goodness, was it that serious?).

Arn Felix Nevarre Rhory Grimmere

 

[Arn]

Rigid, tense, and entirely without a clue of what to do next Arn practically jumped at the chance to head towards the Command tent. "YES!"

The young Sergeant said, probably a bit too loudly.

Not that Arn seemed to notice as he quickly turned and grabbed Rhory so as to push her forward in stride with himself. Leaving Felix and Kristen briefly behind. The giant of a guardsmen leaning over to his most competent companion and quickly whispering.

"She's a bloody PIRIAN!" He said in hushed tones. "What the heck is she doing here?! Why is she with us?! Rho what to we DO?! It's basically like having Elise Virak around!"

The panic he was feeling was more than evident as he whispered. His stature getting them more than enough of amusement as they made their way through camp once more. Cutting through the central line and moving quickly through towards the center where the Command Tent sat.

Tent flaps already stood open, two Guardsmen at the door. Inside one could see the Commander of the 44th, but also the 106th, and 23rd as well as the General Varok Blackforge. His huge stature towering over the other three men as they all peered over the map upon the table.

All of them were discussing something, moving figures upon the board as the Guardsmen and their new Dreadlord companion approached.

 

[Felix Nevarre]

"Well, if you would have stopped by my tent earlier you wouldn't be..."

Felix never gets to finish his sentence as Rhory is dragged away by Arn, leaving him with the new Dreadlord. What was he, chopped liver?

He awkwardly walked beside the armored woman who, at least, seemed to be a bit better temperament than any of the other Dreadlords he had met before.

"I'm Felix, and...It will be nice to have a Dreadlord on our side..." The silence stretched for a minute or two before Felix could come up with the only question that would pop into his mind.

"So, what do you do? Are you a healer? Do you shoot flames? Do you see dead people?" Please not the first one, anything but the first one.

Kristen Pirian

 

[Rhory Grimmere]

Rhory, firstly, glared at Arn and swatted at his grip. She was still healing, and she had wished the boys would stop finding all her sore spots when they needed her attention. "Ow. And so what, Arn? She isn't wearing a sneer nor is she walking around like she owns the place. I think Pirian is here to fight alongside us. Besides," she successfully freed her arm from his grip with a wince, "did you not hear she went to Salesia to help those in the seige? She is no Elise Virak."

But glaring up at Arn was futile when he towered above her. Rhory looked ahead, shrugging at her friend as if to say and that's that.

Because Felix had not whispered as Arn had done, she could hear him ask the Dreadlord about her magic. She still wore her wince, remembering Dreadlords once got quite defensive over such a question, but hoped her gut about this Pirian Dreadlord was right and Felix would not be tending to his own wounds.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen started at Sergeant Arn's...overly?...enthusiastic reply to Rhory. Was...there some unspoken strife going on in the squad, such that Arn would delight so fervently in the witnessing of Rhory's figurative beheading? Kristen hoped not. Whatever truly was the case, Arn sped off ahead with Rhory and, so far as Kristen could see, assailed her ear with equally enthusiastic whispers.

That left Kristen with Felix, and together they walked in Arn's wake.

"I am pleased to meet you, Felix. And surely, in short enough time, our boots will again tread on Anirian soil." A swift war, and a swift victory, would be good for every Guardsmen here at the camp. And though Kristen was eager to do her duty and, in one sense, "prove" herself, the idea of an extended campaign blighted her mood. She wasn't too keen after Mount Dincia to be away from her homeland for a long stretch of time again. Why, on this very issue, she had sent Alistair Krixus a letter, hoping that he might come in time to the camp, such that they might meet before Kristen had to depart for war. She looked forward to the reunion!

Then came Felix's inquiry of Kristen's magic. She had not internalized the guardedness common of Initiates and Dreadlords pre-Revolution, and so thought little of openly speaking of it.

It wasn't as easy as saying she could "shoot flames", like Zael might be able to say. But Kristen summarized her gift thus: "I call upon Conjurations, both debilitating and deadly, and Curses. I believe the Cortosi will find it difficult to do battle if their swords turn to rust, if they are frozen in fear, or if they are crushed by the weight of their own armor."

And the Command Tent was before them, the highest officers of the army busy inside, and one figure among them loomed large, not merely for his physical stature alone. He was the General Varok Blackforge, and though Kristen had never before seen him, his adornments told the tale of his rank and power.

Arn Felix Nevarre Rhory Grimmere

 

[Arn]

A frown touched the farmboy's face as Rho's advice boiled down to 'so what?'.

The casual attitude of his friend seemed almost entirely insane. Didn't she know that this was a proper Lady? Someone who in the old days had been...well...he didn't actually know what Ladies did but she was important! They were just supposed to act like she wasn't?

Like this was normal?

Maybe they did that sort of thing in Vel Cirak, but back home-

"What do you mean? Elise Vi-" Arn tried to object for a moment. Prepared to defend the head of House Virak who had for so long protected his home. But before he could expound the virtues of the Great Lady of Viret, Arn and the others found themselves standing directly before the command tent.

"There she bloody is!" Olem Three-Hand, Commander of the Forty Forth shouted as he spotted the four of them out of the corner of his eyes. "Where the hell have you been Grimmere?"

His eyes quickly darting over the others. "Did you need a Guard of Honor to deliver my bloody maps?"

As the Commander rebuked his guardsmen, General Blackforge let out a bark of a laugh. "With a response like that, I think she might have."

The man said as casually as though they were all in on the conversation.

 

[Felix Nevarre]

Curses? Oh by the gods, they stuck the 44th with a witch! Felix's smile twitched ever so slightly, but he quickly tried to get it all under control before she could see, otherwise he might wake up the next morning with warts in a place he did not even know he had.

How could Arn and Rhory do this to him? They stuck him back here with the witch? Was he supposed to be some sort of sacrifice? Owain he could believe, but him?

Felix's attempts at conversation died down after that, walking silently beside Kristen, rigid as a board and ready to run for his life at a moment's notice.

He was soon greeted with another reason to want to run for his life as the thundering presence of Olem Three-Hand slammed into them. As much as the booming voice made his own voice want to get swallowed into his throat, he forced out an explanation.

"Sorry sir, I insisted Guardwoman Grimmere be treated for some injuries and the treatment went longer than expected.