Fable - Ask The Less Dead

[Donric Mannir]

"Look, if it's getting you upset it's a good thing. It means you've still got your humanity... unlike people like stabby Joff." He smiled, taking back the canteen and tying it around his waist.

Talus' arrival took him by surprise, and the large guardsman turned and immediately stiffened up. His frilly home guard armour conveniently covering his flask of mock-alcohol from the Dreadlord.

"It's not master Crane, is it? Slashy Dafe said he watched that man turn an entire division of orcs inside out just by sneezing at them."

He shuddered. Slashy Dafe had never been the same since that brief excursion with the Archon.

 

[Colette]

Colette nodded to Donric as she shuffled the flask back to him. It happened at precisely the second before Talus joined them out in the rain. His words carved a slight smile onto her face, settled her more than the alcohol had. She would never be like stabby Joff.

She shuddered slightly at the mention of going to see another dreadlord. First they had to endure Joff and now they were going to see some crazed magic user? Then again, Talus wasn't so bad. Maybe his dreadlord friend would be like him despite his warning that he was unpleasant.

"An entire division of orcs?" she asked in a fearful tone.

The guardswoman had heard tales of Crane and of orcs. Neither of them sounded very pleasant. But, whether it was Crane or someone as unpleasant as Joff, "we can proceed how you deem best Major. We need to put an end to this murderer's crime spree."

It seemed like the best course of action. They could run around the city for the rest of the day tracing loose ends at herbalist shops or they could just go speak to one dreadlord. No matter how scary his acquaintance was it was the most direct route and time was of the essence here.

 

[Talus]

A shiver ran down his spine at the mention of Archon Crane.

That was one man that really should be feared. Talus could still remember the day he'd met him, the pain that had wracked his entire body as the many simply spoke to him. It cause goosebumps to slowly travel over his entire body.

"Not Crane." He answered finally.

In truth, Talus still had absolutely no idea just what Crabe'd magic even was. He'd never seen the man fight, but his status was more than enough reason to fear him. That and...well there were too many reasons to count really.

"His name is Nerim Val." Talus began to explain as he motioned for the other two to follow. "Not a cruel one, thankfully, but…"

He trailed off for a second as he searched for the words. "Let's just say he's curious."

 

[Donric Mannir]

"Oh, I think I've heard of him. Apparently, Slashy Dafe was saying that even Nerim's sweat is toxic and he made the mistake of going to a brothe-" Donric spoke, significantly louder than he had expected. His mouth often got the better of him and, additionally, he forgot his commander was a Dreadlord.

He sighed, following Talus quietly, or at least quiet for Donric.

He found himself stifling a burst of laughter at Talus' choice of words. 'Curious' folk as he'd described took another meaning in the barracks. Groups of men and women confined by gender in tight spaces, yeah... Curious was one way to describe it.

He remembered Colette had a 'so-called' curious friend on her first month. A strange woman who'd signed up to the home guard in the end.

"Speaking of which, how's Gurtina doing Colette?" He giggled.

 

[Colette]

Unlike Donric the blonde-haired guardswoman was not as well acquainted with every member of the Northern Guard. Nor was she as up to date on the happenings of the various dreadlords. Though she had met Slashy Dafe. Only the one time when Donric took her drinking. She didn't really approve of Slashy Dafe either.

"I've never heard of him but if he accompanied Guardsman Dafe to a..." her cheeks flustered a bit. She knew where Donric's tale was heading. A brothel. But Colette wasn't about to speak the words aloud in front of the pair she was traversing with. It wouldn't be proper. "Well, he sounds, unique."

The word curious hadn't gone over her head either. Their field medic's attempts at muffling his snickering were unbecoming but well, she'd be lying if she didn't find the choice of words a bit laughable too. Curious even.

It turned slightly when he mentioned Gurtina though. Colette's friend had been the victim of the worst kind of ridicule, the kind that happens behind your back. It still bothered her slightly. "She's good, she wrote me last week, really enjoys her new posting." Her words were spoken in a serious tone. If you engaged Donric in these little chats they never ended and he'd thank her later for not embarrassing the both of them in front of the major.

After a bit more walking she summoned up the courage to ask Talus, "what is it about this Nerim fellow that makes him an expert on poisons and paralytics?"

 

[Talus]

Talus listened carefully to the bandied conversation, somewhat interested in what they were saying. It was rare that Talus actually managed a glimpse into regular life, and much to his surprise it seemed that Donric was quite...well lived.

He frowned for a brief moment as Colette redirected the conversation, wondering if there was something she was trying to keep from him. After a brief second he simply shook his head, taking a turn that would lead them out of the slums and back towards the City proper.

"He's a poisonmancer." Talus had absolutely no idea if that was a proper term, but it described Nerim well enough.

"His magic revolves almost entirely around toxins of all sorts." Just as Donric had suggested, Nerim could actually sweat venom. It was said that during a sparring session once his blood had gotten on a Proctor and the man had been in agony for weeks. "The creation of poisons comes as naturally to him as spit does to you."

One would almost think that Talus was accusing Colette of being unlady like.

 

[Donric Mannir]

Donric guffawed loudly and uncontrollably. He knew Talus had meant nothing by his comment, it was simply another poor choice of words on his part, but regardless it had set him off. A quick glance at Colette and he gave her the knowing smug look he pulled when he thought he was being funny.

"Yeah, you're not wrong there, she is a bit of a dribbler."

He paused, considering the idea of someone running around with such potent poisons. He shuddered. Poisons were a nasty thing, they never quite sat right with the veteran. Anti-toxins were hard to make and he'd seen a lot of healthy people die to such a cowards weapon.

"On the bright side, we can probably rule him out as a suspect. A Dreadlord capable of such feats wouldn't need to test out delivery methods with different weapons."

He paused, glancing at Talus for a moment. He realised he didn't really know anything about his commanding officer.

"So... Do Dreadlords socialise with each other? Are you two good pals, or is it like strictly professional and you keep your work and personal lives separate?" He chewed on his words, considering Talus for a few moments longer.

Donric wasn't even sure what magic Talus did. Stinky Pete had said that Talus ate people's soles, but he had ignored him. Why would a Dreadlord eat shoes? What possible use could that be?

 

[Colette]

Had these two really suggested she drooled on herself? Colette had grown used to soldier humor after she enlisted. The first week or so of basic had been rough when she learned, the hard way, that acting ladylike was not expected within the guard. Her mother had tried to warn her but being young she believed she knew better.

However, not even at basic, had any of the other men been bold enough to suggest that Colette was a 'dribbler.' Most of the boys in basic had actually been a bit scared of the smaller girl and her temper.

"Wait one moment," she said sternly. Though she wanted to address Talus' quip too it wasn't her place to speak out against her superior officer. Even in her anger she wasn't foolish enough to do that. "I am not a dribbler!" Her face grew red with anger as she contemplated smacking the back of the medic's head. She resisted, if only because she was confident his metallic helmet would end up hurting her hand more than she'd hurt his cranium.

"You're just upset we have to wear these lovely peacock feathers."

The poisonmancer himself sounded, well, terrifying. But Donric's question about how dreadlords fraternized with one another did pique her interest. Were the dreadlords much like Donric and Colette? Professional enough to get a job done together but then bicker and converse as they did? Probably not. Colette reasoned the other dreadlords were likely much more intelligent than Donric.

 

[Talus]

"What?" Talus said as he stopped in the rain, his face somewhat incredulous. "I meant no such thing!"

By his tone it was clear that the Dreadlord was somewhat flustered. He had absolutely not meant to insult Colette in any way, he'd simply meant it as an example of what his fellow Dreadlord was actually capable of.

It hadn't been meant as a comment in the least. "I'm sorry, I simply meant it as an example. You know. We all produce spit, I do."

A frown touched his face, and he realized that decorum had left him. For a second he considered dismissing all of this and simply ending the day here, but after a few seconds he cleared his throat.

"To answer your question." He turned to Donric. "Generally, no. It's rare for us to have friends within our own ranks, but there's a certain...understanding between everyone. Especially with ones like Nerim."

 

[Donric Mannir]

Donric watched the spectacle unfold before him, but his mood soured when Colette mentioned the peacock feathers that decorated the home armour. Almost as if on cue, the glittery teal feathers that sat precariously on his pauldrons found themselves lodged in his mouth and elicited a small cough.

He hated this armour.

"Ah I see, so all of your friends are outside the Dreadlords - gotcha." He nodded. It made sense, he couldn't really imagine two Dreadlords existing peacefully and harmoniously between each other. He assumed, based on the very limited exposure he'd had of the weapons.

"What do Dreadlords, such as yourself do in your spare time the-" Donric didn't have much time to finish the question.

As they rounded the corner, which opened out onto a large whitewashed building - he presumed their intended destination. Several Guardsman were already there, and a single corpse was being led out of the building.

 

[Colette]

"Yes, we do all spit. And I spit no more than any of you. Probably less if I had to guess," she answered back to Talus. Still annoyed, but, well... she understood that the Major's abilities to communicate with his fellow soldiers was limited. The academy didn't really prize proper etiquette or expressing yourself after all. At least, that was her impression.

The notion that dreadlords did not get friendly with one another didn't come as much of a shock to Colette. They didn't strike her as the type who'd have potlucks and play cards together. She was keenly interested in Donric's next question about their spare time though. It was just unfortunate that it had been asked right when they arrived to see a corpse removed at this domicile.

Colette sprang forward and waved at the guards moving the corpse, "wait! Major Talus and the two of us are currently investigating this crime. We, uh, they will need to examine the body," she insisted. The straw-haired guardswoman really didn't want to look at any more dead today which was why she felt the need to clarify. She also really didn't have any authority to stop these guardsmen, they were the same rank as she, but well... Talus would've done it anyway.

She gulped as they started to remove the sheet covering the body. She hoped it wasn't the dreadlord that Talus was acquainted with.

 

[Talus]

"Fuck." Talus said with no small amount of shock as the sheet was peeled away from the corpse.

The dead face staring back at him was a familiar one. He had met Nerim more than once, and although he'd only been a Third Level the other Dreadlord had still been extremely dangerous. Yet here he was, a massive gash across his throat and brackish black blood covering his clothing.

For a few seconds the Major was frozen, processing the implications of what he was seeing. "Shit."

A bunch of half breed was one thing, but a Dreadlord? This news would spread like wild fire. Inside of a day he would have half the Great Houses looking In on this investigation. Everyone would want a piece, and that likely meant bad news for the guard.

"Lock down this block and the next two." His voice instantly became stern, looking towards the Guardsmen. "By order of the Eastern Army and Major Talus Morid this section of the city is now under martial law."

The Guardsmen around him paled. "Call up the home regiment and any other Soldier nearby. Lock this place down. No one gets in or out, whether noble or peasant."

Talus scowled, then turned back to Colette and Donric.

"Nerims blood stains the flesh." He offered in quick explanation. "Whoever did this will be marked."

 

[Donric Mannir]

Donric swallowed audibly. While he hadn't known the face that had peeled back from him, it didn't take a genius to judge from Talus' reaction that the man before them had been their target. He breathed, calming himself momentarily.

He was away before Talus had ordered him. Mingling with various groups of Guards that would have begun to cordon off the area. He knew better than to scare the soldiers about tales of serial killers and Dreadlords and instead Donric began to spin elaborate stories to a couple of the soldiers. He knew they'd spread it to the rest of the Guard.

The words noble, gambling debt, alcoholic were flaunted several times before he returned back towards Talus and Colette. He wasn't sure if Talus would agree with his methods, but Donric knew his people. If a Dreadlord killer was on the prowl they'd be slow to act - rightly so, fearing their lives. A noble dead because of his own vices? Well, that was part and parcel of being in the home guard.

"Does this place have any urchins or beggars?" He doubted it, the area itself was quite nice. It was a longshot, but if it had they'd be the first to cotton on to any crime in the vicinity.

 

[Colette]

Her face went pale white, nearly as pale as the corpse before them. Multiple half-humans were dead by particularly brutal and sadistic means and now a dreadlord lie dead before them too. Colette had sparred with Talus and never in a million years could she imagine her capable of even harming the man. She assumed this dead dreadlord had to be at least close to his combat proficiency which means whoever had done this, well, they were extremely dangerous.

"Yessir," she answered the Major's order to lock things down. As Donric was spinning tales to keep folks from panicking Colette was bouncing around to ensure the various alleyways and crossings were guarded. The only one allowed out was the messenger to send word to the home guard, per Talus' instructions.

Returning back to the dreadlord who commanded them and the pudgy field medic Colette summoned up the courage to question, "mark them? For how long? What does it look like?" She imagined someone's flesh being stained the color of blood and it did not make for a pleasant picture. Perhaps his blood turned their flash a lovely shade of periwinkle or lime green.

At Donric's question she moved her head back and forth. This was a more upscale area, she doubted the local guards allowed beggars to crowd in.

 

[Talus]

"No beggars Sir, most of em are kept out."

Talus nodded quietly, frowning slightly as he watched the whirl of activity. A question bounced through his mind, not one that could easily be answered.

Did he have the proper authority to do as he wanted to? Could he order it without repercussion? His lips turned to a scowl, and he answered Colette's question with a bit more edge to his tone than he had meant. "A Black scar, like acid to the flesh but leaving rot."

He'd seen the effects once when Nerim had lost a duel, it had made Talus question if he hadn't lost on purpose.

"I..." The Major took a breath.

It didn't matter if he had the authority or not. There was a killer in this block of the city, he had to do what he had to do.

"Question every home, search for the mark." He ordered. "Those who refuse..."

His teeth clicked. "Break down the door, and search the home. By my authority."

The Command would not sit easy with many guardsmen, but Talus gave it nonetheless. His gaze flickered to Donric and Colette, searching for their support.

 

[Donric Mannir]

He nodded, dismissing the beggar idea straight away. Donric sighed as he realised he would now have to do some legwork. Listening carefully to Talus' description of the mark and his subsequent orders he glanced around at the calcitrant guardsman.

"Soldiers, we have reason to suspect this murderer killed Abelard of the Western Army. One of us, he's got a black scar somewhere on his body." He paused but said no more.

Mention of a dead guard rippled through the crowd like wildfire. Obviously there was no Abelard, but it was a common enough name that a few here might claim they know of him. He bit his tongue, he didn't enjoy lying to fellow soldiers, but it had to be done sometimes.

Without fail they invoked Talus' order with renewed passion and began to fan out across the area.

"Reckon there's a nosy spinster nearby? Or a self-appointed neighbourhood watch? If so, might be they know something." He smiled wryly. He knew nobles enjoyed gossiping and sticking their nose in.

It didn't even occur to him he'd directed the spinster comment at Colette.

 

[Colette]

Talus' command didn't sit well with Colette. There was no doubt that this was an extreme situation and that their killer was very dangerous but to break down doors and search homes of honest, hard working Anirians with no discrepancy?

Still, after Donric's tale of a dead guard and the tone the Major used she didn't see a reason to argue over it.

"Is that meant towards me?" she questioned of the medic. A nosy spinster? Sure, Colette was curious about the happenings within the camp but she didn't gossip.

Not waiting for his reply she approached the first home nearest to the trio, knocked on the door, and informed the residents of a, "full search madam, Guard business," while darting inside and ignoring the woman's protests. It went on like this for the next house, then the third, until she went back to Talus to report.

"Sir, I've done these three domiciles, nothing to report. Not meaning to question but, don't you believe this is excessive? These are honest Anirians, they wouldn't be housing a killer."

 

[Talus]

When Colette came back and voiced her concerns a deep frown flickered over his face.

He didn't necessarily disagree with her. In fact he probably would have voiced the same thought if the situation were different. Yet he was in charge, and he had seen no other way forward. Doubt crept into him for a few seconds. "You're not wrong, Colette."

Talus kept his voice low so that other Guardsmen did not hear, save of course for Donric.

"But I don't see another way to do this." He was already sure that General Aldwaith was going to have him court martialed and executed for all of this. He was opening his mouth to speak when a soldier approached them.

"Sir! We found something."

His head whipped around.

"A house, the owner wouldn't let us inside and when we force our way in we found a passage they hadn't covered yet. It seems to lead to the Undercity."

An escape route or a smuggler? Talus grimaced and strangely began to hope for the former. "Come on."

He said with a swift wave to his companions.

 

[Donric Mannir]

"Cole, what? what have I done?" He shook his head, completely oblivious he'd inadvertently called her a spinster. He shrugged, must just be one of those things. Women didn't make sense, Colette doubly so.

Donric watched her trot off and stood back to watch the Guardsman go about their duty. He, for one, certainly didn't want to intrude. Too many cooks spoiled the broth and all, he'd done his part anyway - it was time for the soldiers on the beat to do the rest.

He shuddered. He'd heard a few stories about the Underdark - and none too pleasant either. "I was chatting to skin-flaying Phyllis the other day... Apparently the nobles keep magical half-breeds in the Underdark. Apparently, they pit them against each other in a big fight pit - call themselves the abandoned." He nodded. Skin-flaying Phyllis was one of the best of them, true Guard grit in that woman.

Regardless, Donric grabbed a torch from his satchel and begrudgingly followed Talus into the depths of the unknown.

 

[Colette]

A small frown formed on the girl's face as Talus explained that he shared her worries but that he didn't think there was a better way. There was always a better way, she had to believe that. She didn't want to live in a state which oppressed its people and Colette had always prided herself to know that Vel Anir was extraordinarily just and fair to its citizens. However, she wasn't able to protest before it was announced that one of the search teams had discovered a tunnel into the underground depths.

"Skin-flaying Phyllis?" Colette was certain that Donric had made this person up. Or at the very least that the 'skin-flaying' wasn't actually true, knowing Donric she probably picked a scab off her elbow once and earned the title. "Certainly you're making that one up. And I doubt Vel Anir would keep magical half-breeds underground, that doesn't seem appropriate."

Either way a secret underground tunnel didn't bode well for the Anirian Guard dispatched here. While all of the field medic's stories were likely fabrications there was certainly something foul down there. No upstanding citizens would have need of a passageway underneath the streets. She wondered if it smelled foul down there.

As Talus, Donric, and Colette approached the entryway and stared down into the abyss her nose confirmed her fears. "Ugh," she audibly complained, "smells absolutely rancid down there." She waited at the top, allowing the Major or the medic to descend first while she worried about how dirty her peacock feathers would become.

 

[Talus]

Talus drew his sword, the first to enter the tunnel as the others fell into position behind him. "I doubt the rumors are true."

He told Donric if confirmation of Colette's position.

"I would have heard about it at some point." Ignorance was not always bliss, but Talus hardly knew that. Without another word he quickly began to creep through the dark tunnel, glancing at the ground.

"Steps in the dust." His head turned towards the other two. "Someone has been through here recently."

His palm opened slightly, and he quickly babbled out a few words which must have seemed no less than nonsense to the Guardsmen. A second later he let out a breath, and light filled the palm of his hand. The tunnel bloomed into light, and Talus tossed the globe into the air.

It hovered gently by his shoulder, casting illumination forward as he moved.

 

[Donric Mannir]

"Skin-flaying Phyllis, you know her, the barrack janitor." He shuddered. She was an elderly woman now, but Donric had served with her on one of his first missions, her name was truly apt. She could fillet anything that woman.

"Hey, I'm just keeping my mind open, have you guys ever seen a half-breed Dreadlord?" He mused. He didn't really believe the rumours, but it always paid to keep others guessing. Plus it was fun for him.

Donric grumbled a bit as Talus illuminated the tunnel, putting his torch back at his side. He knew when he was not needed.

"We're chasing someone with knowledge of poisons, I'd wager they know a thing or two about traps... Perhaps we should try and be extra careful." He glanced around the tunnel, making sure to step wherever his Dreadlord supervisor trod.

 

[Colette]

With Talus' reassurance that the rumors were unfounded and his insistence that the barrack's janitor was a skin-flayer Colette was now confident in one thing. Anything Donric said had to be taken with a grain of salt. She knew this already, her first day out of basic he convinced her of the cleanest place to wash ones hands. It turned out to be the latrine.

"Kind old Phyllis? She's one of the sweetest people back at the base," she stated matter-of-factly. The old woman had baked with Colette once and even had given her a leather bag. She was pretty sure it was cow hide leather, though, Donric's nickname made her wonder...

She alerted back to their duties when Talus motioned towards the footsteps and he illuminated some sort of magical light. Dreadlords always fascinated her like most kids of Vel Anir. Magic was a thing to be frightened of but magic wielded by humans sworn to protect Anirian citizens was awe inspiring. "Right, we're just behind you," the blonde guardswoman answered as she increased her pace to keep up.

The field medic issued a warning regarding traps, to which Colette simply nodded in his direction as she continued down the pathway.

 

[Talus]

"Half Breed's aren't a thi-" Talus suddenly cut himself off as he heard the whisper of voices.

"Did anyone see you?"

"Nah, got away, but the damn bastard burned me with something."​

Talus reached up and grabbed the globe of light, crushing it in his fist and extinguishing it immediately as the voices kept ringing out.

"I think they're locking down the block though, not sure what we-"

"Shuttup, I think I heard something."​

The voices stopped, and Talus quickly motioned for Colette and Donric to press themselves against the closest walls. Just ahead he could see the flicker of firelight illuminating their pathway, casting long shadows of men just ahead.

 

[Donric Mannir]

Donric winced as the light was extinguished before him, yet something troubled him. One of the voices sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place his finger on it.

Without warning a bright alchemical flash grenade hit the tunnel and Donric found himself stumbling back as he was left light blind.

In the distance, Donric could barely make out the sound of running fading away as the tinnitus from the surprise attack slowly eased.

A small green figure stepped into view, shouting to his comrade - although it may as well have been a whisper in his dazed state.

"I'll... at bay... run" The creature, now revealed to be a goblin from the light of the fading fire, laughed and snickered maniacally and held his oversized spear aloft towards Talus.

"Ehehe, I'll... Fillet... Nice fry up... Stab" The goblin spoke contentedly to the group. Donric shook his head, trying to clear his ears of the deafening racket.