Fable - Ask The Less Dead

[Talus]

As Donric create this legend Talus did what he did best.

He cut through the members of the House Guard like they were common militia. His blade flashed and flickered between the different soldiers. Each time he moved the sword found purchase in flesh.

The Dreadlord moved like a snake through the crowd.

It was like a dance, one that was oddly unlethal. His sword did not find throats and arteries. It did not behead or bisect. Instead he cut the backs of knees, sliced through palms, and dealt blows that brought the enemy to their knees.

Before long Talus found himself the very center of the melee. Most of the remaining House Guard turned their attention to him, figuring that the Death of the Dreadlord would see the end of the Guardsmens will. They rushed at him, two, then three, then a fourth. Their blades slashed forward, cutting him once, twice, and pushing him back to a cornered wall until finally he lost himself.

Anger overtook him, and suddenly reality snapped away.

A ghostly visage suddenly tore itself from Talus, his entire being shifting as he phase walked forward and directly into one of the attacking House Guard. His hand tore through the man's throat, and an ethereal after image of him was ripped from his body. An ungodly scream echoed in the hall, ringing out from the man's ghost until Talus suddenly closed his fist and the Spectre was crushed from existence.

"ENOUGH!" The Dreadlord called out, his voice like thunder. "Lay down your arms!"

A clatter of swords and weapons rang out in the hall

 

[Donric Mannir]

Donric's shield knocked one of the household guard off-kilter, his mace replied with a vicious sweep that caused the fellow's armour to rend and buckle. Audible snaps and cracks rang out and Donric counted 3 ribs broken from the assault. Not a high score by any margin, but 3 was always a good benchmark.

That said, a brief intervention by Talus and a command from the Dreadlord saw all combat all but halt. The veteran guard held his breath, he didn't want to reveal to the rest of the gang that he was out of breath from the confrontation - Colette already nagged him about his fitness.

As he glanced around, Donric made a mental note of the various injuries of his comrades. Several cuts, bruises, nothing major, nothing pressing. His eyes locked on Colette, he noticed her swelling immediately. He noticed the shocked, pained and bewildered expression of Colette. He even noticed the spittle around Helmut Opel's mouth, the fury in his eyes, the instinctive flexing of a fist that's been recently thrown.

Donric saw red. As the guards moved to detain the Household Guardsman, Donric strode with a purpose. When he got within range of the Opel Head, his shoulder pivoted. His right arm spun, bearing all his weight and strength behind it.

The man dropped like a ragdoll as the punch struck him square in the face. Donric breathed, his hand falling behind him.

"You boys saw that he came at me, simply self-defence." He said, his voice of sheer fury. Several of their group nodded or uttered verbal agreements.

Donric muttered something about the 'Guard' and 'Their own' and walked back to the gang - ready to patch up the various injuries.

 

[Colette]

Shock and bewilderment painted Colette's face. Sure, the strike to her face hurt and it was completely inappropriate but what Donric had done was... out of order. You weren't supposed to assault a nobleman of Vel Anir like that, even if he were guilty of the crimes they were here to accuse him of.

Colette whispered into Donric's ear as he returned to the group, "You shouldn't have done that, it might cause trouble." After a brief pause and a few hums and haws she added in a second whisper, "but, thank you."

"Definitely self defense, I think he had a knife," she proclaimed loudly while massaging her cheek. She didn't dwindle on the events though, swiftly moving towards a few of the guards who had laid down their arms and shackling them. Taking full measure of all those who had surrendered.

Once she was certain none had escaped she allowed Donric to continue patching up some of the more serious injuries before Colette approached Major Talus. "Sir, we have them all detained. Where should we take them now?"

The girl figured that Opel would go straight to a prison in the city for questioning. Unless, of course, Talus wanted to ask a few questions... off the record. That wouldn't be appropriate either but, well, she couldn't blame him based on his actions just now.

 

[Talus]

His features tightened for a few moments, gaze settled on Donric.

The Opel would no doubt demand consequences, but...well if it turned out he was a traitor then even the Noble Houses wouldn’t bring down their weight on the Guard. At least he thought they wouldn’t. ”We’ll take him to The Obsidian Hold.”

The Hold, as most called it, was a massive black citadel built on the eastern side of Vel Anir. It was a prison for many of the more dour criminals of the city, and was also completely operated by the Guard.

”We’ll also call General Aldwaith.” He said slowly, deciding that all of this was finally above his paygrade.

Talus was confident he had made the right moves, but he wanted the General there. He was the one that controlled the entire army of the East, and he would have to be informed sooner rather than later anyway. ”Send some of the Rangers to fetch him, Donric. The rest of us...we’re gonna form a little procession.”

Just so no one did anything stupid.

 

[Donric Mannir]

Donric shifted uncomfortably, he didn't so much as see Talus' gaze but felt it. Sometimes, particularly recently, he was getting to a point where he forgot the officer was a Dreadlord as well.

His feeling of unease did not settle when word of the Obsidian Hold was mentioned. He shuddered and his face went pale. He remembered being held there briefly, he remembered Lazlo being held there for years. Instinctively, he scratched his faded tattoo on his forearm and stared off into the distance.

Donric took a few moments to register Talus' command. The fear, unease, and memories that the mere mention of the Obsidian hold had left him paralysed and it took him some time before he grounded himself and shook off the feeling.

He took a deep breath, wiping his sweating brow and nodded wordlessly towards Talus. Fresh air would do him good, the Guardsman set off outside the keep and kept his eyes out for any suspicious shadows that would mark his quarry.

Eventually, after a few moments, he spotted one a figure dart behind a window in one of the nearby buildings and he trudged towards them.

A few minutes of conversation, some jokes, several coins passing hands - Donric having won his bet regarding hitting a noble - and the Guardsman returned to Talus' side.

He remembered his destination, fingered his mace and brought his shield close to his chest. He remained silent, for the first time in his life.