Open Chronicles The Lights of the West

[Talus]

Cortos - Ylara

Talus kept his eyes forward as he road through the small mountain gate of Ylara, his gaze fixed on the open square that lay just beyond the open archway. He took careful note not to glance towards the guards, all of whom were surprisingly vigilant.

A couple hundred years ago Ylara had been considered a mighty fortress. Most of it was carved into a great limestone cliff on the western bank of the eastern split of the Baal-Asha River, with the rest scattered out in loose homes and farms just beyond the cliff itself. During the wars with Vel Anir the city had been one of those that had eventually fallen to a decade long siege.

At the conclusion of the wars Vel Anir had left, but Ylara was still thick with Anirian Culture.

Talus could see it as he rode into the city proper.

Many of the buildings were constructed in the same style as his own home. Sweeping cut lines, defensive structures built into the corners, and winding pathways that were difficult for strangers to traverse. Talus could see the mark of his country, though it was hardly a dominant feature. Ylara was still very much Cortosi, if nothing else told him that it was the banners of the Radiant Church.

He tried to keep the frown from his face as he watched what he presumed to be a priest of some sort wander past him, his tabard gleaming in the sun. Talus shook his head slightly, turning his horse towards a large building that was marked with a sign. The 'Wayfarers Inn', it was called.

Slipping from his horse Talus flipped a coin to the stable boy. "Make sure she's well cared for."

The boy nodded eagerly, grabbing Talus' mount by the reigns as the young Dreadlord Apprentice tugged at the odd leathers he was wearing. They were uncomfortable, though better than wearing what would mark him out as Anirian. Black Leather and a green tunic made him appear just as most sell-swords in Cortos, and that was good enough for him.

Running a hand through his hair Talus looked about one more time before heading into the Inn.

 

[Venanin Sen Shiir]

Ven sat high in the saddle, lavender eyes focused ahead as the apprentice scanned the periphery. The dapple roan mare had been allotted the dreadlord apprentice indefinitely and as such a fondness had developed. So few true possessions made those limited items practically priceless.

Following beside Talus, Ven entered the stables and slid from the saddle to the soft dirt floor of the stable. Thick leather boots covered in road dust landed with a thud. The mare danced slightly eager for the feed and a brush down it was used to after a long ride.

"I'll meet you inside." Ven said calmly as the silvered bastard sword was removed from behind the saddle and belted around narrow hips.

A tug on the reins and a shove for the stablehand that tried to approach the roan followed.

"Don't touch her." Ven said emotionlessly, "You may bring her feed."

Ven walked toward an empty stable, proceeded to brush the horse down, and slipped some apples to their friend.

 

[Talus]

The words of one of his traveling companions caught Talus' attention for a moment, his head jerking in a terse nod. "Don't straggle."

Not here.

He had spent some time undercover in Coraliv before the invasion. Sierra and he had worked to sabotage the city for several weeks. During that time he'd learned a thing or two about doing this, and one of them was not to be separated for too long.

Ylara was still unfamiliar to them, and there was no telling what challenges could hit them before they were able to meet their contact. With another quick glance to Venanin Sen Shiir and his other companion Talus wandered off into the Inn.

The common room of the establishment was a simple place. Eight tables were arranged around a square room, a bar at one end and a small platform that some would call a stage on the other end. Talus walked up to the Innkeeper, attempting to appear as casual as possible.

"I need two rooms." He said as he tossed a bag of coins onto the counter. "And I need to know if you've seen a man named Markov Astrad lately. He's a merchant."

The Innkeeper quickly nodded, reaching underneath the counter to fetch two keys.

"I know the name, makes his rounds every month or so, should be here tomorrow or day after. It'll be Hay Fest."
​

Talus nodded. Hay Fest was a large festival that Ylara had annually. It celebrated some sort of ancient fertility god, thanking the deity for a good harvest and peace. From what he understood it was a remnant of the old days before the Radiant Church.

Something the Church, of course, disapproved of.

 

[Harry]

Henry passed the reins to his horse off in silence. A basket-hilt sword hung at his waist, and he wore only trousers and a white linen shirt tucked into the waist of his pants. The loose garment hung over the band of his trousers; the shirt's lacing was left undone and loosely open in a rogueish flair. Left untrimmed for several months now, curly brown locks fell over Henry's ears and just over his brow.

The apprentice fit the description of an aspiring duelist, though he was far from one. However, an abundance of that ilk would be found all through Cortos. None would glance a second time at Henry.

Or so he thought. As he passed the reins off, the stable boy's eyes widened at the sight of Henry's scarring. A web-like scarring trailed up Henry's neck and stopped below his left eye. A patch of thick, discolored skin graced the other side of his neck. Both compliments of Luther, a former friend of Talus and Henry.

He wordlessly walked past Venanin, who tended to their horse, and entered the inn behind Talus. As his friend surrendered coin for rooms, Henry placed his own single coin down.

"Ale," The single spoken word carried a coldness more bitter than blizzards in the tundra. The Innkeep wasted no time in fetching a flagon for the young man.

As Talus conducted his business, Henry nursed the flagon.

After all, how would they fit in without a drink or two? Silent, brooding swordsmen would draw trouble. But silent, brooding swordsmen with drinks could be found anywhere.

 

[Venanin Sen Shiir]

The horse huffed happily as Ven left the stables, the dry smell of hay and old dung was an odd comfort of times mucking out stables at the academy. A rare time when they were in relative quiet peace. Ven looked at manual labor way most beings looked at relaxation now.

The old unpolished boots sent more dust into the air as Ven crossed the stable and noted the echo thud of the boarded steps up into the inn. Ambush point. The buildings across the street were higher than one story. Sharpshooter and lookout positions. They had to be wary, always watching for positions, routes and defenses that could be used by or against them. At this point, Ven didn't know if that part could be shut off any longer.

The tall thin apprentice stepped through the door and sized up the other patrons with a glance then feigned a smile and headed to meet the other apprentices.

"Never know if these stable hands can handle horse flesh properly," Ven said with a fake tone of familiarity before waving at the server, "Drink, please."

It was already more than Ven had spoken in the last week without being asked a question, but if they were to be caught, it wouldn't be for bad acting.

 

[Talus]

Talus glanced at his two companions, rolling his eyes for a moment as he quickly finished speaking to the Innkeeper. A few coins were passed over the table, and then the man dropped his voice as he whispered to Talus.

After a few minutes the young Knight motioned for Hal and Ven to follow him. He lead the way to a small table in the corner, unbelting his sword and putting it against the wall as he sat himself down and looked around to make sure no one was watching them.

When he felt secure he spoke. "Markov won't be here until tomorrow or the day after."

Markov was of course the man they had been sent to Ylara to meet. He was an Anirian spy who had ingrained himself in Cortos culture over the last decade. He gathered information on the local barons, peasants, and of course the Radiant Church.

He had always been reliable, or so they had been told.

"The Innkeeper told me that things here are tense." Talus leaned forward so he could speak more quietly. "The Baron has apparently been excommunicated by the Radiant Church, there's talks of heresy and the local priesthood has been preaching militancy."

Meaning things could get rather ugly soon.

 

[Mathis Majister Mejeure]

A voice, muffled by distance and the door of the Wayfarers Inn. Growing louder. Closer.

The door all but thrown open. Mathis Majister Mejeure entered, an arm around the shoulders of a confused-looking young woman in adventurous gear, two men in rough leather armor following them.

"--into this sterling establishment! Now my dear, why don't you have a seat right here and allow me to treat you; it's the least I could do for an old friend, what do you say?"

The young woman blinked. "I suppose s--"

"Wonderful! Make yourself comfortable! Relax and enjoy yourself." Majister pulled out a chair of an empty table and made a wide and sweeping gesture for the young woman to sit, and she did. The two men sat at the table opposite her. "Excuse me for but a moment and I shall return with your favorite drink in hand, how does that sound?"

A squinting of the young woman's eyes. "Do...do you even know what my--?"

"Marvelous! Wait here."

Majister walked with a slight lift to his chin and his chest out and his hands relaxed neatly behind his back. Across the common room and up to the bar he went. He noted the trio of dashing fellows collected there. Quiet and intense types, finding their way back to their own table as he approached. He smiled and carried on, coming up to the bar and placing one hand down on it and hailing the server.

"Hello there! How's the family, my good man? That's spectacular to hear! Now I understand that it has been quite some time since my lovely associate and I have graced this fine Inn and that you may have forgotten her favorite drink, but fear not! Hah hah, I've tempered my expectations accordingly! How about we settle for a simple ale and let bygones be bygones, hmm? How does that sound?"

"An ale, then," said the server.

"Excellent, my good man! I knew I could count on you."

The server filled a flagon with ale and gave it to Majister and Majister paid and took the flagon back to his own table and set it down hard enough to cause a splash of it on the table. "And here we are! A swell drink for a swell gal! Oh there's no need to thank me, you're too kind!"

The young woman glanced down at the drink and then back up at him. Said, "I, uh...I actually don't like ale."

Majister bent down some and put an arm around her and pulled her to him as she sat and made a grand arching gesture with his free hand. "Every day is a new opportunity, wouldn't you agree? Oh but of course you do, I can tell! Hah hah! Why it simply might be that you've yet to taste the right ale and young lady I'm here to tell you that this is particular Inn is one-of-a-kind throughout all Ylara in that it serves only the finest in inebriating beverages as I'm sure you're soon to find out!"

Majister let her go and slid cleanly over and down into the seat next to her and glided his body such that their shoulders were touching, a big grin on his face. "Ah, but business always intrudes on pleasure, doesn't it? My, my, can't you tell how bright our future is going to be after our little deal here? That's right! Our future! You and I, my dear! We both have quite a lot to gain from this gorgeous transaction of ours. Imagine the possibilities! A whole world of them is within your grasp, my lovely lady, and I'm here to tell you just how easy it is to reach up and pluck that shiny little thing that you've so been fancying. Huh hah! And you were thinking I had forgotten, were you not? Nonsense! Of course I keep all my fine friends well and close to my heart!"

Arms on the table, fingers steepled together. Now Majister at last lowered his voice to a normal speaking tone. "Now then. You've something I want; I've something you want. Let's make a deal, shall we?"

He smiled, bright and friendly.

"The map," he said. "And the key."

 

[Harry]

A man's boisterous entrance drew Hal's attention from the bar for only a moment. With a slight twist of his body, he glanced over his shoulder to see the source of the outburst. The man, clearly conscious of his own appearance, and a woman under his arm. He was flanked by two rough-looking types. The apprentice turned his attention back to his flagon. As Hal followed Talus to a table off to the side, he did not cast a second glance at the man as they passed.

"It'd be bad if we had to stay here longer than necessary," Henry said in response to Talus' briefing. He shook his head, "Getting mixed up with the Radiant Church is bad business- especially if the Solar Choir gets involved here."

The sudden complications frustrated Henry, evident from his forefinger that rhythmically tapped against the flagon in his hand. His expression remained stoic.

"We can only-"

"Hah hah! Why, it simply might be..."​

Hal offered a quick glance over his shoulder as the uproarious man once again drew his attention. It was a momentary distraction. As he returned to the topic at hand, he slid the flagon away. Curiously, the man's booming voice had spoiled his thirst.

He cleared his throat, "We can only hope that the contact arrives before the situation here escalates."

Eyes darted between Talus and Venanin.

"We should not, under any circumstances, come into direct conflict with the Radiant Church."

 

[Venanin Sen Shiir]

The light through the in windows cast the cloud of dancing dust motes in a golden hue as Ven sat quietly. The equations ran behind those odd lavender eyes, calculating threats in the room. The ale came, tan froth of the head dripped over the lip as a boisterous man led a young woman in. Ven watched and listened to the man. He was the type of person who treated others like a children's rope swing, used them until he was through then left them hanging alone and unfulfilled.

"Can we kill that one?" Ven said in a whisper, mouth barely even moving.

Ven lifted the drink to wash down the sudden desire to begin the vocal portion of the apprentice dreadlord's form of magic. Both the words and the ale were bitter. The bitterness reminded Ven of their scar faced mentor. The woman's appetites tended to evoke the same response from Venanin.

"I hope our business will show fruit soon." Ven said simply, "My sword arm is getting restless."

 

[Talus]

He couldn't help but agree with Venanin. He didn't want to stay in this place any longer than he had to. Ylara was a strange city. Though familiar, there was something disturbingly...off about it that made him feel ill at ease.

Perhaps it was because of the Radiant Church.

Religion and Zealotry were a foreign concept to most Anirians, Dreadlords especially. The idea of dying for a god, something intangible and completely based on faith was disturbing. Most religion had been all but wiped out centuries ago in Vel Anir. It was seen as a weakness.

His head shook slightly as he began to speak, lips thinned.

"We can't kill anyo-" Talus suddenly cut himself off, his jaw snapping shut as the door to the Inn slammed open. A man, already sweating and gripping a ripped cloth of some sort stood in the doorway.

"The Baron!"​

The entirety of the Inn seemed to fall into complete silence, heads turning as the man shouted over the rumbling noise.

"He's seized the church! He's going to execute the Priest!"
​

Talus glanced at his two compatriots, lips thinning slightly as he processed what he'd just heard. Most in the Inn stayed silent, though a few cheers echoed which were immediately answered with calls to shut the hell up. "When?"

He dared to speak, understanding the chaos that might follow the execution of a priest of the Radiant Church.

"Tonight!"​

Shit. Talus thought to himself.

 

[Mathis Majister Mejeure]

The young woman's face took on a sly look. "So...what do you have that I want? Hmm?"

Majister grinned, slow and sure, like a hyena leading his pack to the site of a fresh kill made by some other beast. "And that, Darla, is the spirit. You see, everyone's the same, deep down inside, even if they're loathe to admit it. Now you and I, my dear, you and I...hmm hmmmm. Where others hide it and put on airs, we've the temerity to proclaim our bias, don't we?"

He dropped a hand down on her shoulder. A slight lean in. His voice low and conspiratorial. "It's a beautiful happenstance when two people want the same thing. Wouldn't you agree, my good lady? You have the map and the key. I have the men and the resources. And wouldn't you know it, like the tying together of two particular strings of fate, here we are, right now, in this refuse pile of a city."

"I could do it myself."

Majister laughed out loud, and Darla's expression dropped. He said with a tinge of amusement, "No, my dear, you cannot. Why, if that were so, you'd have done it already."

Darla all but whispered. "The Radiant Church is powerful here. How do I know you can get the job done?"

Majister plopped an elbow down on the table and rested the side of his head against his fist and smiled in a whimsical way. "How radiant could they be? Hmm?"

Priceless. The absolute lack of any retort and her visible struggle to come up with one. Priceless.

"Huh hah! Why, I'm simply pulling your leg, that's all!" Majister straightened up and leaned in again. "My dear, can't you see I'm offering you quite the bargain here? You barely need to do anything. Isn't that splendid? Oh do save your kind words, I know full well I'm far too gracious for my own good, but we all have our character flaws, don't we?"

Majister walked his index and middle fingers up her neck and the side of her head and tapped her ear twice. "That was your share of the loot knocking, my dear, and I'm here to tell you that a prime opportunity like this only knocks once. Honestly, the time couldn't be more right for--"

The door of the inn was thrown open. And my, oh my, what an announcement. Majister glanced to the two men sitting opposite him and Darla at the table. Smirked and gave a slight flick of his head to the door. Get the boys. They each grinned in turn, stood, and casually made for the exit.

Majister looked at Darla. The poor thing seemed to have gone a touch pale at the news.

And Majister, through his winning smile, said, "Well...I stand corrected. Now, the time couldn't be more right for this."

 

[Harry]

With a groan, Hal rested his face in his hands. As if spurred by his words, the situation quickly deteriorated.

"Fuuuck," the word dragged and was delivered with a cold hiss, "The execution of a priest won't be ignored."

Lips pressed in a tight scowl as he looked up and to Talus.

"What do you say we do now? It'll be hard to meet Markov with the Radiant Church crawling about."

 

[Venanin Sen Shiir]

"Shit." Venanin cursed. "We need to leave or lay low."

Venanin hunched over the drink and took another pull. They didn't need those fanatics sniffing around asking questions. At best they would keep their affiliations secret but be watched too closely to finish their business. At worst they would have to murder their way out of town and risk starting a war against orders.

Venanin didn't mind killing the mindless faith freaks, but the apprentice did mind having to explain failure to their mentor. She was not forgiving of failure or weakness. Venanin was convinced she would employ a necromancer to bring the young dreadlord back just to torture them to death again.

"We can't fail, and we can't go beyond mission parameters without absolutely no other choice." Ven said into the pint, "Perhaps we sell our sword arms as guards to the inn during these dangerous times? It would give an excuse."

 

[Talus]

Talus scowled slightly, glancing between his two fellow apprentices.

He listened to them carefully, knowing that if they didn't reach this decision together they'd likely end up somewhere in the dirt. The Radiant Church wasn't exactly the type of thing you wanted to fuck with, but neither were the Proctors back home.

They needed what they came for. "We stay."

Talus declared, frowning slightly and glancing around the inn. Everyone was buzzing now, talking about what was going to happen and how the Radiant Church would respond.

"Ven, talk to the Innkeeper." The idea was a good one, they could take lodging and if anyone asked questions they would have a good excuse. "Hal, we're gonna head to the church and see what's going on."

Talus glanced at the two, settling on Ven. "Meet us there after."

Without any further hesitaiton he stood from the table, grabbing his sword. They needed more information about what was going on.

 

[Harry]

If staying is what Talus decided, then Hal would find no reason to object. Talus never led him astray in the past. The trust that Hal had for him was almost unconditional.

“Don’t start anything if you can help it,” As he rose with Talus, he cautioned Ven. A skeptical glance was cast at the loudmouthed man from before for a moment before returning to Ven. “If you have to, don’t make a scene.”

He flashed a small, awkward smile at Ven before leaving behind Talus. He tightened the belt at his waist and adjusted the sword looped through it.

He wondered what Selene, his mentor, would do when plans had to be improvised.

When they exited onto the street, Hal caught up to Talus.

“Is it fine to leave Ven alone?” That being said, Hal was relieved to be partnered with his old friend.

 

[Mathis Majister Mejeure]

"You don't know what this means," Darla said. Why, the girl had gone more than a touch pale, now she was positively wide-eyed and whispery.

Majister clapped a rough hand down on her shoulder once again and gave her a shake. "Hah hah hah! Why, that's utter nonsense! Of course I know what this means! Would you like me to tell you?"

"I--"

"Excellent choice!" Majister leaned in to her ear. Whispering now himself, "You're nervous. But fret not. Chaos, my dear, chaos opens many doors. You'll see."

Majister pulled back. Grinned widely. Said to her, "Hasn't this just been a marvelous exchange? A magnificent stroke of luck for you, Darla, if I do say so myself. Now what do you say? Hmm? Shall we embark on this profitable venture together?"

Darla cast a glance down at her feet. She'd lost that slyness and swagger from before. All at the mention of the Radiant Church. Peculiar.

"Darla..." Majister cooed.

Pensive. Quite pensive right now, Darla. There was something about this Radiant Church that had her spooked. Or concerned, perhaps. Not enough to keep her from obtaining the map and the key, clearly, but enough to poison her resolve now.

"Oh Darla..." Majister had his elbow on the table and his head propped on his hand, sliding down and slowly coming into her view.

She glanced over at him, a tiny little flick of the eyes. Bit her bottom lip. Said quietly, "My mother's in the Radiant Church. I...I don't...it's a bit complicated, okay? We're not on the best of terms. But I don't want anything bad to happen to her."

Majister casually watched two of the patrons of the tavern leave. Two out of the three of those quiet and intense types. Oh yes, the sorts that did things that inadvertently made his job easier--if luck would so have it. Why, this opportunity was getting better all the time!

And Majister just smiled at Darla. Said, "Now, now, my dear. I'm certain we can come to an arrangement."

 

[Venanin Sen Shiir]

"I'll handle my objective." Ven said emotionlessly. "See you at the church."

Ven adjusted the sword belt and quietly headed for the bar. The innkeeper was busy talking in animated but hushed tones to his small staff.

"...a warzone. People will tear this place apart." Ven overheard the serving woman that had brought their drinks saying.

"No way we won't get looters and worse this close to the church." An older woman, maybe the cook, added.

"I know, I know." The innkeeper replied, "But if we just lock up and leave. They'll still loot and break and burn."

"We'll be alive!" The server replied just above a whisper.

"Excuse me." Ven said causing the cook to start and the innkeeper to look over his shoulder at Ven.

"Yes, sir. Is there a problem?" The innkeeper said in a clearly forced calm tone.

"Several it seems, but I have a solution for one." Ven replied as the guise of sellsword slipped into place like an eel into coral. "My two friends and I are swordsmen, and looking for work for the moment. If you'll agree to giving us a large room or three small ones, meals and 10 silver each per day, we'll gaurd the inn until this business has passed."

"Oh, thank the gods." The cook breathed.

"Hold on, Belda." The innkeeper said, as he and the serving woman gave Ven a skeptical look, "One medium room, meals and 5 silver each..."

"You can't be serious?!" The server interrupted, "They could be thieves, themselves, or worse!"

"I still own this in, Niev." The innkeeper snapped. Whatever their relationship the younger woman quieted and gave Ven a scathing look.

Ven didn't care for the money. Just the excuse to be where they needed to be without raising suspicion. The Dreadlord apprentice made a show of meeting the server's eyes. No amount of acting was able to completely hide the cold, emotionless look in those lavender orbs. Ven looked at the innkeeper and stuck out a hand.

"Done." Ven said with a small awkward smile, "I'll go inform my companions we have employment, and be back in an hour."

"Fine," The innkeeper said with a nod as he shook Ven's hand, "but be back ready for work."

Ven nodded and turned away not even sparring a look for the serving woman. The apprentice glanced for a moment at the loud man with the girl as Ven went for the door. Something about everything in that man's mannerisms seemed like an act but Ven didn't know people as well as war. War was easier.

Ven exited the inn and cut through the streets after Talus and Hal. Ven hoped they could simply let the town eat itself while they used the mess to meet their contact. But somehow, things never seemed to be that easy.

 

[Talus]

"There's no fighting yet." Talus commented, though even if there had been he still would have felt fine leaving Ven behind.

He would have felt fine leaving Hal behind too.

All of them had been chosen for this mission, and in Talus' mind that meant all of them were equally prepared to fight and die for the information they had been sent for. That included himself. Fingers tightened as the roar of the crowd got a bit louder.

The streets around the Inn were suspiciously empty, but as they headed towards the main square he could see why. Dozens upon dozens of people had already gathered, and in the distance he could see Guards keeping men and women away from the gates of the keep.

"LET HIM GO!"

"HE IS A MAN OF THE CHURCH!"

"NOTHING WRONG WAS DONE!"

"THE BARON WILL PAY FOR THIS!"​

The last of the shouts was the one that concerned Talus the most as he and Hal approached the crowd. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, but some men ahead of them were already holding torches. He could see a wooden platform at the top of the walls attached to the side.

There, upon it, stood a man in the garb of the Radiant church. A noose was already sitting around his neck. "Fuck."

Talus said as he pointed at the priest.

"Does the Baron know what he's doing?" He asked with a scowl. "These people wi-"

He found himself interrupted as a voice boomed through the crowd. It was louder than it should have been, and he could just barely make out the source. A man standing in the middle of the crowd, the mark of the Radiant Church burned into the flesh of his forehead.

"WE STAND IN A CITY RULED BY A HERETIC! A MAN SO FAR FROM GOD THAT HE HAS LOST HIS LIGHT! I WILL NOT FOLLOW SUCH A MAN! FOR I STAND WITHIN THE LIGHT!"​

As the said the final word Talus saw the man almost explode outward into a bright glow. Men and women alike shielded their eyes, the man glowing bright enough to light the whole of the crowd.

Aw and gasps flooded through the forming riot.

 

[Harry]

A chuckle of disbelief escaped the apprentice's mouth as he squinted and nonchalantly shielded his eyes.

"Do you stand in the Light, Talus?" He lowered his hand as the light dimmed and folded his arms across his chest.

After a moment of contemplation, he shook his head. The crowd had been awed by whatever display of divinity the marked man demonstrated. Hal found the whole thing comical. He also wasn't exactly understanding what he was watching, either.

"They'll get themselves killed by following through with this."

 

[Mathis Majister Mejeure]

"An arrangement?" Darla said, skeptical.

"Absolutely!" Majister proclaimed as if he'd made the most wonderful discovery in all Arethil's history. Bringing his voice down to what the average person might consider a speaking tone, he said, "Consider this, my dear: this charming little Church of your mother's is going to have quite the handful to deal with, aren't they? Why, that expression on the wacky, sweating man's face said it all, didn't it, hah hah hah! Ylara's in for a rough night one way or the other, execution or no execution, and the Church is front and center, all eyes on them up there on the stage, their big moment, can't you see? Yes! We need not have any quarrel with them, oh no. We and they will be far too busy, and I'm here to tell you that they'll scarcely notice us in our splendid endeavor."

Darla glanced about the tavern worriedly, lingering for a bit on that fine fellow with the silvery-blond hair talking to the innkeeper. Ah yes, all the right instincts, this Darla, singling out the most dangerous-looking person in the tavern and keeping track. She'd a calling in her life that she didn't quite know yet.

Back to Majister, she whispered, "But what if...what if we run into my mother anyway?"

Majister smiled. "Simple, my fair lady. We won't kill her. We'll just use incremental degrees of politeness to get her to stand aside. How does that sound?"

A little furrowing of her brow, and she said, "We can't kill her. Swear neither you or your men will and we've got a deal."

Majister put a hand to his heart and swore. And they shook on the deal. He adored making promises of not doing something, absolutely adored it. It cost nothing, and he could simply break his word when it was no longer convenient for him to keep it. Oh but it might ruin the prospect of recruiting the young woman into the fold, but there were rough and adventurous types the world over, weren't there?

And Majister and Darla stood and he walked her outside the tavern and there they were met with a peculiarly empty street. Bothersome. Majister preferred crowds when in cities; big, hard to navigate crowds where one could disappear into the larger group and men sharing the same and singular purpose could move through the streets without drawing the eye.

Majister let out an amused hmmm in his throat. "I do believe someone's hosting a magnificent party and failed to invite us, Darla."

She opened her mouth to speak, but a glimmer of brilliant light staved off her words and caught the attention of both of them. It was like the glinting of metal, catching the sun at just the right angle, only...bigger, perhaps? Difficult to tell, it did seem a ways away.

Majister grinned. "Was that your mother's work? Also, I've perhaps underestimated just how literally this Church takes itself."

Darla glanced at him and then down the street. "What? N-No, that wasn't her. I don't think. But something big's happened."

 

[Venanin Sen Shiir]

Venanin walked out and pushed through the crowds as gently as could be deemed reasonable. The sword around their waist was enough to give most pause if they took exception. The apprentice was only 50 yards from the church and the other dreadlords when light exploded from a man. It was a simple spell really, taught by Zatha as an introduction to fire. Manipulation of energy to produce light with heat was only a small step away. With practice a mage could radiate enough light and heat to simulate sunlight when faced with the foul undead. This display was not quite a children's spell, but close enough. Ven wondered how long it took the fanatics to learn with heads full of sand and feces.

With a final push Venanin made it to within speaking distance and looked at the marked man.

"Do you think he finds himself impressive?" Ven asked with utter calm, "We have employment and causation for being in town as long as needed. Free room and board, meals, and 5 sliver per day. And if this becomes the mob it appears to want to be, we can kill a few of them without issue."

 

[Talus]

"I wouldn't be so sure." Talus said to Hal as he watched the man further rile up the crowd, the men and women surrounding them practically buzzing now as the light grew bright enough to illuminate the darkened square.

Zealotry was a powerful thing, men who believed in something greater than themselves could do great...and horrible things.

That was what Fen had said. Talus' mentor had a habit of spouting philosophy, half of their duels ended with the Apprentice on the ground and his mentor lecturing him on some ancient thinker or another. Something that annoyed Talus to no end.

His head turned when Ven arrived, his head nodding. "Good job."

Talus offered as he turned back towards the crowd.

"THIS GODLESS BARON HAS NO RIGHT TO OUR CHURCH! NO RIGHT TO OUR HOMES! NO RIGHT TO OUR CITY!"​

The voice boomed out now, and Talus couldn't help but grip the hilt of his sword. Magic flowed from the glowing man, more than just a pretty light show. His lips thinned as he took a step back, motioning for the others.

"Somethings going o-" His voice died out as the man's voice boomed in the square and in their minds.

"STAND WITH ME! BRING THIS HEATHEN LOW!"​

Someone in the crowd threw a stone at one of the guards in front of the gates, then another came, and then another.

Suddenly dozens of rocks flew towards the armored guards, and as they were struck their brothers on the walls above retaliated. Arrows and crossbow bolts few from the Keep and into the crowd below.

 

[Harry]

Henry whistled and tucked his thumbs under his belt at the sight of the few guards on the ground being pelted by stones.

"Shit!" He suddenly hissed as bolts flew into the crowd. Many dropped dead. Agonized screaming mixed in with the furious clamor. All the while, the overzealous one's voice continued to ring out even as bodies fell. Glacial blues suddenly fixed on Ven. He half expected the apprentice to bring their bastard sword down onto some oblivious peasant.

His attention fell back onto the brutal scene. The boy shook his head as the mob rushed forward in an attempt to smother the guards that stood at the gate. He thoughtfully stroked the scruff on his chin, trying to find the reasoning behind not fleeing all while trying to mute the screaming and cursing.

 

[Mathis Majister Mejeure]

That fine fellow with the silvery-blond hair had the right idea, didn't he? Oh but of course!

"Come, my dear!" Majister said, whipping an arm around Darla's shoulders and 'gently' guiding her forward down the street and toward the main square of Ylara. "There's scarcely any reason for us to be lollygagging about, hah hah! There's work yet to be done and all the action is just a short stroll down this way and what's that I hear? Why yes, Darla, we are quite the go-getters, aren't we? Peerless, I say, peerless!"

"Wait-wait-wait," Darla said, her mild resistance to being led along trickling away. She glanced about, even though there was no one else on the street save the two of them and the silvery-blond far ahead and the crowd of the square even further. "Are...are we going to do this...right now? As in right now, right now?"

Majister chuckled. "There's not a man in the world whom opportunity waits for! Why yes, my dear, I'll have you know that such defining moments of the day must be seized--that's right!--seized! And who better to do it for you than yourself? Huh hah! But you're already touched by fortune, Darla, worry not! I am here to help, and my grasp upon opportunities such as these could not possibly be more sure! You can rest assured that you and I and my boys will emerge from this dreary sand-choked city richer than we had come. Isn't that splendid?"

Oh Darla, ever the pensive one. Twiddling her thumbs together nervously and looking down at her feet as they walked. So long as that map was correct and the key worked, then the Vault was theirs.

And, well, as Majister and Darla approached and stood on the very back edge of the crowd in the main square, the population of Ylara certainly looked to be keeping up their end of the bargain. Why yes, their unspoken bargain, their unwitting involvement, of course. This little spat between the Radiant Church and the Baron was going to work wonders, alright. Wonders!

STAND WITH ME! BRING THIS HEATHEN LOW!

Majister let out a curt, nasally hmmm. "What a most peculiar thing just now. Darla, I don't believe I've told you how much I despise the local water here. Clearly they've laced--"

Darla--for once--grabbed him, clamping her hands down on Majister's shoulders. "It's not the water! It was the magic of the Church! I've seen it before! I--"

Then the throwing of rocks and the crossbow fire into the crowd started. Both Majister and Darla, as if in tune with their instincts, backed away quickly from the crowd and back down the street they had come.

Fair ladies and fine gentlemen, this might well be happening a lot sooner than tonight.

 

[Venanin Sen Shiir]

"Stupid." Ven said simply as the crowd became frenzied. Lavender eyes scanned as the people's faces pushed by. Bodies lay scattered around the front of the crowd from the first salvo as Ven watched and waited.

Ven began to back away from the church back toward the inn.

"The zealot is inciting them." Ven said, "Magically."

Ven couldn't help but notice the urge to fight had grown stronger than it usually was. Hand on the hilt of the bastard sword, Venanin wanted nothing more than to cut the way clear for them, but the mission require they go as unnoticed as possible. Casting magic would cause just as much of a problem.

Ven pulled the sword from its scabbard and held it point up as the apprentice moved to find a spot away from the rush of people. The hilt and pommel of the sword would be useful for keeping the people back. They didn't want Ven, they wanted this Baron.