Fable - Ask The Canal

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen tensed up when Alistair looked her way. Drew back, even, as if he were a coiled snake and he could lunge at any moment. Slight, this motion, but there and unmistakable.

Her eyes flicked to Raf only a second after Alistair's own had. Nothing came of it, as nothing but a very loud and very angry shout had come from Kalix. All that had come from Alistair's end of this argument was a punted chair and a cutting laugh. While it was good, at least, that this hadn't escalated into blows and an embarrassing situation for all of them if Lord Banick found out about their infighting, still there was a frigidity among them that would assuredly ice over the remainder of the night.

Kalix and Alistair...by Aionus, they simply did not get along at all. This was twice now.

The Darling Daughter within Kristen was absolutely torn between whom to rush to first to comfort, Kalix or Alistair. Just go to them and hug them. The Darling Daughter wanted to assuage their anger toward each other, to try to find some peaceful path to reconciliation.

But the Darling Daughter was the antithesis of what she was trying to become, wasn't it? That naysaying voice in the back of her head, the part of her (indeed, the part of everyone) which quietly spoke the unfiltered truth, had it right. The Darling Daughter of House Pirian would never have survived the old Academy; and, even now, there was little room for humanity. Especially not among her peers.

So she needed a different approach.

Kristen gingerly, stiffly, stepped over to Raf. Bent to his ear. Said, "May I have a word with you in private, Raf?"

She pulled back, eyes beckoning.

And then departed from the tent. Outside, the evening twilight and the thin line of the day's final light in the west, other nearby tents with Banick soldiers within them, the orange glow of firelights from about Elyr-Adith. Kristen didn't walk far from their tent. Just enough to stand beside the back of one of the elven homes.

Just enough for her and Raf to perhaps have a chat about what they might need to do.

Raf Kalix Alistair Krixus

 

[Raf]

One could cut the tension in the room with a knife. In fact he was almost entirely sure that both Alistair and Kalix would have gladly cut one another with that same knife.

It reminded him of some of the old days.

Kristen hadn't been there, but Raf had. He could still remember how the students had beaten on another, both on the training fields and off. Things had been cut throat. A difference of opinion wasn't the only thing that had lead to bruises and broken teeth.

He tried to remember if Kalix and Alistair had ever fought, if something from the past pushed them to this edge...but everything was so fuzzy. He had spent years trying to forget, push those memories away, recalling any of them was all but impossible.

Raf seemed almost in a trance when Kristen spoke.

His head snapped to the side, whole body flinching as though he expected her to strike him. When nothing but words came he slowly tipped his head in a nod, scrambling to his feet and following after the Pirian.

A glance spared over his shoulder at the others.

 

[Kalix]

STOMP STOMP MUNCH. CHEW STOMP CHEW STOMP. SWALLOW. STOMP STOMP MUNCH. CHEW STOMP CHEW STOMP. Wait, he should chew this piece a little more. Nothing worse than swallowing a chunk of meat to only get stuck it stuck in your throat. And men weren’t supposed to gag! That was what women did when they—

Kalix would’ve had his lips quirk up into a little smile at his dirty thoughts, but his foul mood prevented anything of the sort from happening. Stomping along the beach, furiously eating at his chunk of salted pork, yeah, fuck Alistair he wasn’t going to get any salted pork that know-it-all noble. Wandering further and further off from camp, Kalix had a new thought enter his mind.

“And fuck the revolution, too.” He said quietly, but the bitterness was there. A year ago, Kalix didn’t like what Alistair was saying meant he could’ve offed him. Even if he was a noble, and if anything, the proctors would have praised him. They always seemed to have it out for the noble kids. Not as much as the weak ones though.

But now Kalix had to figure out how to practice restraint, and ironically, he could only ever do so really in Liliana’s or Perci’s presence. Whenever he got to angry they were both able to calm him down with ease, or at least able to redirect his fury elsewhere.

Kalix winced, feeling his chest feel the dull sear of white hot pain, coming from his side to the move all over his broad torso. He found a place to sit down, and while most would’ve looked out into the sea, Kalix specifically made sure his back was towards it in another act of immature defiance. Fuck the sea, too. He began to chow down again on his hunk of salted pork, not yet noticing the two pair of glowing eyes from the shadows of the foliage.

Alistair Krixus Kristen Pirian Raf

 

[Alistair Krixus]

One of the earliest lessons that Alistair could remember being taught at the Academy was to not engrave while angry. Anger led to mistakes. Mistakes were unacceptable. He could still remember countless hours of being beaten and psychologically manipulated to try and force out his emotions. It had taken years for him to get all of his emotions under control, or so he thought.

Alistair was engraving angry, but it had not led to any mistakes, yet. Still, the slightest wrong turn could lead to disaster when the rune was activated.

Thankfully, the process of engraving was a calming activity for him, so he was hoping that he would slowly get his anger in check as he continued.

He briefly heard Raf and Kristen leave the tent as well. They were probably mad at him too. He had let his anger turn to even them, even though he was supposed to be the coolheaded one...Kalix just had a talent for pissing him off.

The blockhead couldn't even understand that Alistair's anger wasn't directed at him, but at the system, they were in. The revolution was supposed to have been this grand re-ordering of the system, but the rules had just changed slightly. The same people were still playing their games.

The difference was these new games would affect him and the dreadlords more directly. Alistair was actually proud of some of his friends, or maybe they were just colleagues. Those like Edric, Evie, Kristen, and Kalix were capable of being the strongest that Vel Anir had to offer.

Kristen still needed to get some experience, but she had amazing powers and she was a quick learner. Kalix would be one of the strongest if he could ever fix that brick for a brain. Even Raf could stand toe to toe with the greatest mages because of his powers. He just needed to show some emotion, so people could understand what he was thinking.

Alistair would never be like that. Runes had their limits on the battlefield. He could never be the one-man army that Vel Anir prided themselves on. He could continue to work on his knowledge and swordsmanship, but he would never amount to more than a cog in the machine, just maybe a shiny cog.

Raf Kristen Pirian Kalix

 

[Kristen Pirian]

What Kristen had to say was simple. Her tone was quiet, imperative; her register was dire and straightforward, devoid of her typical higher elegance.

"The next time that happens between Alistair and Kalix, they're going to fight." A small worried crease of her brow. "They're going to fight and they're going to hurt not only themselves, but likely everyone around them."

She reached up and put her hands on his shoulders, and her eyes blazed with intent.

"Raf, if and when that happens, I'm going to need you. Okay? I will need you. I cannot stop them alone. Gods, I'll try. With or without you I'll try, and if I am without you I can say with confidence that I will be swept up in the storm of their rage and cast out ravaged."

It was hardly Dreadlord talk, all of this. Hardly. It was an outright admission of weakness. But Raf's particular set of problems was unique among their peers, and Kristen worried not about saying something like this to him as she might have to someone like Edric or Noel or Ralene, any of the true killers of the Academy.

No, her worry was something different.

"Raf...can I rely upon you in this matter? Or shall I face it alone?"

Raf Kalix Alistair Krixus

 

[Raf]

A thousand things ran through his mind.

He had never been one to stand up. Not in the face of others, not in the face of Proctors, not in...not in any situation. During his entire time at the Academy he had wanted to hide away, tuck himself into the nearest corner and just...

Just get through it all.

Nothing had mattered, no one mattered. But no one had ever asked him either.

He could see it in Kristen's eyes. The slight hint of desperation, the need for all of this to work. Raf didn't understand it. Didn't know what it meant...but...but he could feel the pang of emotion that rang through Kristen as she touched his shoulder.

Eyes flickered briefly to her grasp.

Raf found his tongue tied. Found his mind a flickering blaze of emotions and memories.

For a few seconds the noble might have thought that his mind blew a circuit. That he would simply stand there, but then...ever so slowly, Raf nodded. "I can...I can help."

He said quietly, meekly.

 

[Kalix]

Kalix continued to work on the hunk of pork, grateful that with sitting down, the pain did seem to subside slightly. A rustle to his left. Kalix quickly craned his neck over and saw the only good news of the night: a furry friend. But Kalix’s favorite furry friend—a cat.

All black with a upside down triangle of white on it’s chest and yellow eyes that mostly shined although the left one seemed dull and watery. Kalix tilted his head, curious if the cat was sick or feral, but to his surprise, it strode over to him rather easily, rubbing it’s head against his shins. When it looked up at him, it meowed and Kalix grinned.

“Yeah I’ll share with you. Only if you think Alistair is a idiot and the revolution is fucking stupid.” Kalix said. The cat meowed again before rubbing it’s face back against his shins. “You and me gonna get along great.” The initiate responded and tore off a chunk of the salted pork, handing it out and over to the cat.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

"Can you?"

It came out sounding far more biting than she would have liked (Mother would been taken aback to have heard it!), but she didn't take it back nor apologize. She couldn't! This was too important to let a little small faux pas of tone take precedence.

"Raf, this is no trifling matter. I need to know if you will or if you won't."

Her eyes burned into him, trying to scorch away that quiet and the meekness and to find a more definitive answer.

Raf

 

[Raf]

Seconds passed.

Hours within his skull. Time seemed to bend, shift. Shake. For Raf it might as well have been an entire age. A sliver of time that seemed to distant and at the same time short that it all happened at once. Kristen loomed over him staring.

The answer was so clear, and at the same time so far.

He found that his tongue was tied, broken. The word in his throat stuck like a fat frog between a pair of rocks.

In his mind hours seemed to pass before he finally managed to answer her. Before his head dipped down in a slow nod and he finally found his footing. "Yes."

There was a shocking firmness to his voice.

"Yes." He told Kristen. "I"ll stop them from fighting."

Raf said, knowing he would.

 

[Kalix]

Well, shit. You know what they say. You feed one cat and you get the entire family coming over, meowing and acting cute and oh-so-starving. Kalix almost wished he hadn’t ate so much of the salted pork as quickly as he had. He was letting the five kittens lick the taste off his fingers, and the three adults were looking up at him expectantly with twitching whiskers. He frowned then, leaning down and picking up two of the kittens easily.

They mewed in objection of course until he held them up against his chest, petting them and letting them claw their tiny little claws all over him. Soon they were purring.

“I know where we can get more food for you guys.” Kalix said slowly, his voice low as if he were actually telling them a secret plan in how they were going to steal Walter Banick’s wallet. And perhaps, in a way, he was. “But you gotta be quiet and just follow me okay?” He looked at the black cat, who he figured was the mama of the five hungry kittens. The two other adult cats? Probably the dads, one was orange and the other gray and white; and would you look at that? Mama had kittens that were black, orange, gray, calico and one that was mostly white with gray and black patches.

“I’ll carry your kids, don’t worry. They’ll just slow us down.” And with that Kalix began to collect the rest of the kittens into his arms.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen let out a big sigh of relief.

And, swept up in the moment and without even truly thinking about it (Mother, again, would have been taken aback, chastising her about what kind of message she was sending), Kristen actually gave Raf a hug. It was a quick one, one might even say exceedingly brief, but there, it happened. Thoughts of a reproachful mother or no, Kristen was happy that she wouldn't have to face the prospect of breaking up a battle between Kalix and Alistair alone and she showed it.

"We," she said, smiling. "We will stop them from fighting."

Her eyes flickered down demurely and then came back up.

"Thank you, Raf. I very much appreciate your commitment in this."

And with that, Kristen entered the tent once more.

The campaign for the Canal had two more stops ahead of it.

Raf Kalix Alistair Krixus

 

[Raf]

Raf flinched as Kristen wrapped her arms around him.

He expected a punch to the side, a knife buried in his back, some sort of...violence that would flicker out from the other Initiate. Before he could get over the fact that nothing came, Kristen already pulled away and offered a warm smile.

"I...yeah." The Mimic said with a slow nod of acceptance.

Had things changed so much?

Was this the new normal? Initiates trying to help one another, supporting each other. Actually doing things that were...good? Isn't that what he had dreamed of? Some of his peers helping him when he'd been thrown in the box? Someone standing up for him?

Isn't that...what they had all wanted?

A frown touched Raf's lips, but slowly he nodded. "You're...you're welcome."

He said, returning Kristen's smile.

 

[Kalix]

When everyone would enter the tent once more they would be met with the sight of Kalix, already asleep. Five kittens would be on top of him, asleep as well. Three older cats would have finished off any food in the tent that was edible to them.

The initiates would also discover that Kalix snored while in a deep sleep, although the cats didn’t seem to mind it and probably assumed it was him purring.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

ELYR'MORATH​

The reserve companies arrived and took over the stewarding of Elyr'Adith. Supply lines were established to fuel the advance of the main Banick force as they marched along their route and deeper inland. South by southwest was their trajectory, mirroring the projected path of the to-be-built Canal. No resistance was encountered along the roads, though a few travelers of both the adventuring and merchant persuasions were stopped, questioned for information, and let go (though they were kindly advised not to return in the direction from whence they came, for fear that Fellowship scouts or spies might be among them).

After a few day's worth of marching, Elyr'Morath was in sight.

Or, rather, something peculiar where the map suggested the elven town to be.

It was evening. Dim. The sun had not yet set in full but the brightest stars were visible in the darkening blue of the sky. Most of the color had drained out of the forest around the marching column, the dimness casting the soldiers and Initiates alike into shadow.

So it was easy to see the fierce orange glow ahead. Through the trees it peeked. Flickering and dancing. And when the wind shifted, then came the acrid smell of smoke. It needn't take long to discern one thing with absolute clarity.

There were fires on the horizon.

"Initiates!" Walter called from atop his mount.

Kristen hurried up to the Lord of Banick's side, and it was then that she got a full awareness of that orange in the distance, the tingling unpleasant scent in her nose. She looked with uncertainty to Raf, to Alistair, to Kalix.

Walter didn't need to gesture. "What do you make of that?" he asked in general to them.

Kristen swallowed. "It...mayhap some woeful tragedy, Lord Banick? A forest fire run amok?" To her own ears, this sounded more like wishful thinking than anything else.

For greatly she feared the possible alternatives.

Raf Kalix Alistair Krixus

 

[Raf]

Raf wasn't the smartest Initiate. He was certainly not the most dedicated. But not easy he utterly incompetent.

Kristen's shining optimism obscured her vision, but Kalix and Alistair were likely thinking the exact same thing that Raf was. Years of training, studying, and being pressed into service as weapons of war brought them to the obvious conclusion.

"The city is being attacked." Or had already been attacked.

From this distance there was really no telling which side of the line it fell on. Yet the billowing smoke and the acrid smell within the air was more detail than was needed. A forest fire would have sent animals fleeing all around them. The flames ahead were too localized, not yet spread out upon the horizon.

There were other signs, but Raf didn't feel the need to point them out.

He was sure of his assessment, sure that the other Initiates and likely Walter himself had already settled on the fact.

Fingers tightened on the reigns of his horse. Another battle would be coming. Another clash of blood and death. He frowned, flickering his gaze over towards Alistair and Kalix, wondering if the spark that had ruptured between the two of them would rear itself at the worst opportunity. He could only hope he and Kristen would be ready for if it did.

 

[Kalix]

“Well it sure ain’t Selene, I’ll tell you that much. She’s never coming back.” Kalix said, mostly to himself although it was very probable that the other initiates heard. Hopefully it wasn’t Walter Banick. Surely not him, up on his horse with the others being much closer to Banick than Kalix himself was. Kalix would have knocked on wood though, although it seemed the fire before them was quickly devouring everything in sight.

Despite his joke, Kalix felt a sort of rage. Instilled in him still was the teachings to fight for Vel Anir, and like Raf had suggested, this was most definitely first and foremost an attack. If it was a forest fire, wouldn’t others be fleeing? But Kalix saw no sign of townsfolk leaving their homes. Although it was strange, why would anyone want to burn Elyr'Morath? Surely the Fellowship wouldn’t harm other elves, and wouldn’t burning this town just make it easier for Vel Anir to have their canal?

At least Kalix would actually have the chance to punch something. He was still brewing over his altercation with Alistair, days later. See, Kalix had actually be proactive somewhat, doing his best to avoid Alistair and only speaking to him when needed. Even if his tone was harsh and his words brief, Kalix was trying not to be around that know-it-all noble who thought he was so great because he was smart or whatever.

There were plenty of smart people around and they were always so weak. Only those who are strong can really live life how they want. Kalix nodded his head at his thought, looks like he did pay attention to Proctor Novgorodoff more than he thought he did.

“We should go down and make sure no one is hurt.” Wow, what a great revolution answer! Much better than his pre-revolution answer which would have been to go straight after the bad guys.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair had been reserved ever since the fight with Kalix. He was aware that he and Kalix had created a divide within the group. It may seem like it was just the two of them, but Kristen and Raf were also probably watching them carefully. The only difference was Alistair probably cared, while Kalix probably did not.

He was not foolish enough to make a scene while in the presence of Lord Banick, but he did find himself lost in thought several times during the trip.

Unfortunately, he found himself caught out as he focused back on the conversation being had. His eyes moved to the flames and he remained silent for a second as he more closely took in the surrounding area.

Raf's response was most likely correct, but there were other tactical options that more extreme groups may use.

"It is most likely an attack making the battle as chaotic as possible against us, but...they could be burning down the city to ensure we don't get it. If they don't think they can hold Elyr'Morath then they would rather not leave it for us to utilize. The inhabitants would then only have two options. Go with them, giving them more recruits, or traveling to the closest city, Elyr'Adith.

A wave of refugees would make the city overcrowded and potentially create supply problems. Either option was bad news for their forces.

Kristen Pirian Raf Kalix

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Walter stayed atop his mount, looking out toward the distant fires as each of the Initiates gave their counsel. It was good training for them, the opportunity to assess a situation critically and to provide advice and perspective to their commanders (three out of the four of them had done this superbly). All Dreadlords were expected to be weapons, but the best were more than simply that.

After a time he spoke, issuing orders to his attending retinue. "The Initiates and I will be the vanguard and scout the situation. Have the army follow slowly and carefully, and stay at distance until we signal. Should ill befall us of the vanguard, then you, Sir Keating, are in command."

Walter, his dozen elite guards, and the Initiates went forward, proceeding toward the burning town of Elyr'Morath.

As they did, Kristen mulled over what her fellows had all said. Raf's succinct answer: being attacked? Oh no! Despite hopes and wishes, battle would be joined if that were the case. Kalix...oh how dare he! In fairness, he didn't know how much Kristen idolized Selene Avar, the Dreadlord who spearheaded the assault on the Blades and freed her. Still, it had stung. But at least his heart was in the right place afterward, saying that they should see if anyone in the town was hurt or required help. Alistair, of course, had the most thorough answer, expanding on what Raf had said. His acumen on military matters had left Kristen in awe, and with no small hint of admiration for his ability. He had all the makings of a great man, didn't he?

They got close. Within the periphery of the town, yet still concealed by the surrounding forest (though it was somewhat difficult to tell where the forest properly stopped and Elyr'Morath began, such as it was with many of the houses of the town being built on and in the trees themselves).

From what was visible, the scene was horrific.

There were elves crying out, lamenting their sorrows upward to the evening sky; there were elves ambling in shock down the paths of the town; there were elves desperately dragging loved ones and friends and neighbors out from burning buildings. The town had all the signs of having been pillaged, and pillaged to a devastating extent, for there were pots and barrels and crates strewn about and broken into and a hazardous field of items, that which was deemed to be of little or no value, littered the pathways. Five bodies lay on the ground by a house which was not yet aflame, all five lined up, faces down, their hands bound behind their backs, all executed. And further beyond, three more bodies hung from trees, mutilated, and perhaps among the three of them they had enough limbs and body parts to make one complete elf.

"Blessed Aionus..." Kristen said quietly, her voice thinned and quiet with shock. She made a holy sign of Celestialism before herself. "Holy Sentinel..."

She glanced to Kalix. And big, round, beseeching eyes left no question that she agreed with him.

They ought to go and help however they can.

Raf Kalix Alistair Krixus

 

[Raf]

"Kress." Raf had seen brutality before, they all had, but that didn't make what lay before them any easier.

He felt bile rising in his throat for a brief moment, fingers tightening on the reins of his horse. Lips thinned and he let out a quiet curse as he pulled himself forward. There wasn't much hesitation. Dreadlord's were supposed to be the first ones in.

That was what they were here for.

Into his hands fell his staff.

He moved without hesitation towards the house and the bodies in front of it. Eyes flickered down at the savaged forms, though none had been brutalized like those which hanged from the tree. Lips thinned as he came closer to the building.

Free hand shot up in quick signals. People inside.

Kalix and Alistair would see the signs immediately, the quiet language all Initiates were taught at the Academy. He motioned to his fellow initiates, left, and then right to help him flank the house.

 

[Kalix]

Ely’Morath looked like shit. As the initiates got closer and closer to the mess of a town, Kalix couldn’t help but snidely think that this was why Vel Anir was so great. Look at these elves! Helpless, every single last one of them. Crying and sniveling, wailing and shouting. What good was that doing?

Of course, it may very well work in their favor. The last elven settlement had shown that the canal project was going to be met with resistance, either from townsfolk, people in leadership positions, or the brotherhood.

Kalix looked from the five executed and then to the three hanging in the trees. He frown and one dark brow rose up. He stared, not because he felt sicken by it— truly he didn’t find this horrifying in the slightest, after all it was happening to elves and not true Anirians— but rather because it stood out. It was strange. Why mutilate the bodies like that?

His gold gaze roamed over from Kristen’s big grays to Raf’s signals. Kalix tapped Kristen’s shoulder, and with a jerk of his head motioned that they should be heading over to the left. Pernach is hand, Kalix began to clunk over to the left of the building, crouching down to help conceal his height.

Hopefully he’d get to fight someone this time. He still had plenty of pent up rage from his latest argument with Alistair. Despite the severity of the situation, Kalix was grinning, his gold eyes ablaze with brazen joy.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

They were rushing in too quickly. There was no plan set in motion, in a chaotic setting with no idea of the enemy numbers. Raf had moved in without consulting Lord Banick, or any of the elite-level guards.

Alistair watched him run off and then watched Kalix and Kristen followed in pursuit. He looked to Lord Banick and back to Raf trying to sort the information in his mind.

Dreadlords, even initiates were the first ones to go in. Even with no plan, it would not be easy to overwhelm their team. However, dividing the team would ultimately lead to gaps that could be taken advantage of. There was only one right answer.

"Lord Banick, stay here with your guard. We will handle the first stages."

He hurried off to fill in the right side, completing the formation for Raf. He made a hand signal to confirm his understanding and then activated his eyes runes to keep from being ambushed.

"Eyes peeled. We don't know who is in there."

Even as he said it, Alistair knew that Raf and Kalix would run in without thinking. Kristen would likely follow if she saw the other two run in. That left Alistair to watch their backs.

Raf Kristen Pirian Kalix

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Walter nodded with understanding to Alistair. The Initiates were in his charge for the duration of the campaign, but they needed no special care, no handling with soft gloves. They were Initiates separated only by a small matter of a year or two from being Third Level Dreadlords, formidable forces each in their own right. And so Walter stayed behind, surveying the wide view of Elyr'Morath, taking in the burning and devastated spectacle to further assess the correct approach.

Kristen felt no reluctance, no nervousness, holding her back. When Raf ran, she ran. Kalix's words echoed in her mind, make sure no one is hurt. There were certainly people who were hurt, killed, now that they could see the town properly, but there had to be people who needed help. They could make a difference here.

Thoughts of the Canal, the campaign, the mission, even that the people in question were elves, all of it just fled from her mind. Kristen was solely focused on helping people, and it gave her a drive she hadn't felt in any of her other missions.

They closed on the house with the executed bodies laid out before it. Further off, a sign was perhaps visible from the hanging trio of corpses, its words indistinct at this distance except to the eagle-eyed.

Spoiler: The sign

YOU DONT
MESS
WITH CAPTAIN KAIJO

Kristen caught sight of Raf's hand signals. She got the first word, people, and inferred the second. Kalix tapped her shoulder, and she nodded, following him to the left side.

From behind them, noise. The sound of light footsteps. Kristen turned around.

An elven woman. Her dress ripped and torn, barely covering her nakedness, and a few ribs were clearly visible. Marks and bruises marred her face and her hair was in disarray and her shoes had been taken from her. She was about as far as she could be from the typical image of elven grace.

She was weeping, stumbling toward Kristen and Kalix. There was fear in her eyes but greater was the desperation. Her voice was weak, quavering like her knees, and she spoke to them in elvish, reaching out for them:

Spoiler: Elvish

"He's still in there! Please! My boy! Save my boy! He's all that I have left!"

"I-I-I'm sorry, I do not understand you! I don't understand! I'm sor—!" Kristen said, trying to keep her voice down. The elven woman all but collapsed into Kristen's arms and she caught her. The elf cried into Kristen's breast and she held her head, comforting her, for it was all she could think to do.

And she looked to Kalix. Confused. Unsure. But at least aware that something important was inside that home.

Raf Kalix Alistair Krixus

 

[Raf]

Raf did not hear the cries of desperation from the Elven woman. Nor would he have understood them if he had. The Academy had never stressed the understanding of language, had never pressed them to learn anything that might not benefit them in war.

It was the way of things.

Lips thinned as he heard steps within the building. The thud of boots. The echo of steps. Fingers wrapped around the mark of his staffs. Curling tighter. He motioned to Alistair, and then raised himself up as he swept into the room.

The scene that he came upon was nothing less than horror.

Than utter and sheer sight of gruesome macabre.

Blood splashed the walls, the floor, the ceiling. Fleshed peeled from a corpse lay scattered about what might have once been a corpse. Standing above it was a man, no, a hulking husk of a thing which might have been considered a man.

Raf froze.

Stared.

His mind not processing the scene of complete terror which lay within. The brutal representation of death that lay before him.

 

[Kalix]

Kalix hated the sound of elvish. Mainly because he didn’t understand a lick of it. Slightly because it just sounded weird. All the words sounded the same and Kalix could care less to even try and distinguish what was being said, where one word stopped and another began. Maybe the elves spoke the way they did because with their knife-ears they could hear the syllables better, but with his nice, rounded ears, Kalix only heard a bunch of sobbing gibberish.

There was one thing he did understood though.

“Eee-fooldery faerie-urududai iderie oooderie, get the fuck off of her.” Kalix growled out, quickly taking a large hand to push the elven woman off and away with Kristen with remarkable force. He pointed his pernach at the knife-ear, quickly coming to stand in front of Kristen in a protective pose. Despite having said they should help, Kalix was hardly green when it came to suffering villages.

A language barrier didn’t help the case either. At this point, especially in this situation where they had no idea who their enemy was, everyone was a enemy. Even a crying woman.

“KP, don’t let anyone come near you.” He whispered back to the noble, “you don’t know how many times I’ve seen a crying woman go up to some softie to only drive a dagger through their guts.” His golden eyes were narrowed, regarding the elf woman with a glowering hatred. “Besides, you can’t afford to be open.” A insult, yes, but also something Kalix considered to be fact.

He was, more or less, a more outgoing and “friendly” initiate. Why? Because he was strong. And while he wasn’t the smartest, his magic and his natural brute strength was comfort enough for him to engage strangers in dire circumstances and not feel threatened. Kristen, on the other hand, couldn’t afford that, not now.

It was evident that Kalix thought he was protecting Kristen. Now and later in the future.

“Let’s go.” He said. “And remember to keep your guard up this time.” Pivoting on his heel, Kalix went to quickly follow after the others, not noticing the sign or any other clue about what was going on.

Alistair Krixus Kristen Pirian Raf

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Really? Not a single one of them spoke Elvish? It was only the language of their most hated enemy. Didn't they think it would be a good idea to understand what they were saying sometimes? No, of course not. You did not need to understand something to kill it.

Thankfully, Alistair had bothered learning a passing understanding of elvish along with a couple of other languages. He wasn't going to orate a poem in the language, but he could understand and get his point across.

The crazed elf woman wasn't making things too difficult. She kept repeating the same word, so Alistair could put things together.

"Raf, is there a boy in there?"

He called back to his teammate as he overheard what the elf said to Kristen and Kalix. He did not know what Raf had found in the room, but judging from his looks and from the smell he noticed in the smoky air, Alistair could only scrunch his nose up in disgust.

As he neared the building, he caught glimpses of the interior building and frowned. Before he could say anything else, he drew inside himself bottling up his worried emotions.

Raf Kalix Kristen Pirian