Open Chronicles The Sacking of Salitra

[Acteon Cass]

Being escorted to the tent, Acteon made sure to get a read on the general mood of everyone around. A bit of a habit as sellswords never knew what they were walking into and a bit out of trying to piece his end more together. He had just started to get it all figured out after all. What a mess of a job this was all turning into. Soon enough he was left in his tent with the obvious guards standing ready, but he never once made an attempt to escape. Why would he right now? It was best he wait for everyone's next move before he did a thing.

Acteon couldn't say for sure how long he was left to wait, but he noticed the sudden shift in guards and others within his sensing range outside his tent. Before they had been tense and ready for a fight. Now they were tense and on full alert in a mixture of emotions he could only describe as duty and horror. It would seem the leaders were back to see him, although this reaction seemed more than it had been before.

The first to enter the tent was Ashuanar , who cleared his throat. The man's body language was completely different than it was earlier. His own mimicked that of the guards outside. Next came in a very, very tall man that was molten iron. Behind him was Medja , not that she had ever shared her name with him earlier. Acteon got to his feet as the General spoke and bowed deeply as Gerra did.

The voice that followed from Acteon next was entirely different in tone from what either of the other two had gotten out of him. Where they had been curt and insulting, this leader was being polite. It was always best to respond in kind to such things.

"You honor me my lord. And yes, I do come bringing news of a necromancer in the city. I also come bringing a potential plan, if you would have it, that should speed up and ease your taking of the city.... On behalf of your allies the rebels."

Well it was time for Acteon's gambit to succeed or fail.

Uvogin

 

[Gerra]

Gerra cocked his head. There was something familiar in the way this Acteon held himself. Something that nagged at the back of his mind. Curious.

“Speak then, tell me of your plan.”

 

[Medja]

"Be still a moment. I'm not going to hurt you." Medja spoke plainly. There was no malice in her voice this time. If Gerra was going to treat this stranger with respect then she would hardly defy his will. Instead, she had a job to do.

The sorceress lifted her hand and a column of sand began to find its way from her fingertips to Acteon's chest. The grains moved like an organic body, writhing through the air. At last, the sand worked its way into Acteon's shirt and made contact with his chest. The link completed, Medja could feel the man's heartbeat.

The sorceress nodded an affirmation to her lords before returning her gaze to Acteon.
"Now, you may speak."

 

[Acteon Cass]

Well a polite leader in this camp was refreshing. Acteon could only insult arrogant puppets for so long. He had not reached his limit but there was a limit. The man raised his torso back up from the bow but made sure to keep his eyes downcast. It was something rulers all over the place enjoyed. Well most of them did. The tribes from the steppe and spine could be very odd and backwards about these things.

Before Acteon could respond to Gerra , a long tether of sand suddenly floated onto his chest. The hairs on the back of his neck immediately stood up. He felt like a dog on a leash, and it got a frown from him. The frown was quickly corrected but since the big leader was expecting an answer right now he needed to provide one.

"I tried to hint at my plan towards your subordinates, but it is simple. There is a necromancer in the city, sellswords and mercenaries are the ones covering the walls, and the rebels are going for the Emir who's defenses are weakened right now due to me." Acteon began. He was not lying to them. Medja might even note a bit of pride when he mentioned the part about his actions weakening the Emir's defenses. "Due to your economic tampering to help incite the rebels, there is plenty of people dying from starvation and disease as well. If you assaulted the walls now you would be creating a killing field and pilling up more dead bodies for the necromancer. Your forces would be overrun and what should be a sound victory could turn into a pyrrhic one or even a defeat."

Acteon wasn't stalling at that moment so much as getting working his way through the steps again himself for his plan. He took a moment to pause as much for himself as for them then went on. "I told the Emir there was an army on his doorstep after I noticed the necromancer and it got most of the sellsword moved there. My plan is simple: we make them switch sides. The Emir is not paying anyone unless they survive until the end of this vague employment length. So they won't get paid if they die but they also won't get paid if he dies. Just head to the wall, offer them an actual visible payment, and when they turn you have taken the walls and most of the Emir's forces away. The necromancer loses the dead bodies from fighting them as well. The Emir is already fighting rebels. What will he do when his wall is lost without a fight?"

Ashuanar Uvogin

 

[Gerra]

“Hmm,” Gerra glanced sidelong at the sorceress, then back at the man half enveloped in sand.

“The economic distress of the city is not my doing, but born from Soleiman’s greed. Too much coin from his treasury to pay mercenaries and not enough to feed his people. Even so, you are correct, more deaths would simply grow the necromancer’s power. If what you say is true then perhaps that is the most effective method but...”

He turned to Ashuanar.

“Bring up the mangonels and load them with bread. Fill the streets with food.”

If Annuakat had one thing to offer Salitra it was this.

“Medja, does he speak truly?”

 

[Medja]

The sorceress would've loved to care for how uncomfortable she made her captive, but now was, unfortunately, not the time for games. She listened intently to the man's words and heart as he spoke, searching for any sign of deceit.

Medja squinted at the man and gritted her teeth. Not a hint of dishonesty in the sellsword, his heart didn't change pace even once. Some subordinates were going to be made very aware of their failings later. A necromancer was a very big detail to miss.

The courtier was not certain of how sound this plan was, but Acteon did in fact speak truth and she was not one to question Gerra's orders.
"He is perhaps...misguided, my lord, but his heart yields all to me: this man tells the truth."

At Gerra's behest, Medja would withdraw her link from Acteon.

 

[Gerra]

“Very well... Captain Uvogin, assemble your Immortals. Find and eliminate the necromancer.”

The Imperial Guard Captain had just as much reason to despise undead as Gerra.

“Medja and Acteon, accompany me to the walls. Let us see if we cannot purchase more loyalty.”

 

[Acteon Cass]

Things were going well so far. The big man seemed willing to give it a try. He was also freed of the sand by the injured woman with big hands. He was commanded to head back to the wall, which was the opposite direction he honestly wanted to be going right now, but perhaps he would get paid after all.

Acteon bowed in response to Gerra and then said, "I will need my mount and weapons back if I am to guide you there my Lord. Oh and about the necromancer, it is a woman. Average in every way I could tell. Carried a staff with her. Might help your men find her."

Given his things back or not, Acteon took Gerra to the wall along with Medja . Along the way he tried to pay attention to how things were playing out. From what he could tell though, people had moved off the wall. It was likely in response to the smoke rising above the city. That was new.

As they approached the wall, Acteon said, "And here are the walls my Lord. I hope your tongue is made of silver because mercenaries like it as much as gold."

Uvogin

 

[Ashuanar]

He remained behind Gerra, eyes carefully watching Medja as she advanced toward Acteon. He was pleased to see that how she interacted with their new informant was much different than it had been with him. He studied her for a time while the other two two conversed.

He turned to Ashuanar.

His head snapped straight.

“Bring up the mangonels and load them with bread. Fill the streets with food.”

"Very good, sire," and he bowed and departed with haste to carry out Gerra's decree.

As he made his way he realized the full scope of what all had just transpired. He'd been read, like a book. He felt... unsure. His mind raced. He removed his head and face covering, finding it hot. Again his mind was filled with conflicted perceptions and of course, that moment in the tent.

Her hand on his chest. His, only inches from her cheek. ​

"Yes, Vizier?"

He hadn't noticed he'd already arrived to his intended destiniation.

"Mobilize the mangonels, prepare to fire within the city. Your ammunition will arrive shortly."

He moved to organize that portion of this task.

"Ah, and what shall we rain down upon them sir?"

Ashuanar turned back to see him before he departed.

"Bread."

 

[Ashuanar]

Escorted by a significant contingent of spears a piece, they advanced. Over two dozen mangonels were pushed and pulled forward and brought within range of the city - not much farther ahead than the camp's edge. As they took up position, several wagons were pulled behind them filled with bundles upon bundles of bread.

Kaliti soldiers, overseen by Abtati Sipahi, loaded the baskets full, and proceeded to fire.

Large, bound bundles of bread were hurled over the city walls, bursting open at the command of a watchful sorcerer. Loaves harmlessly descended into the streets in great abundance.

At the camp's edge, Ashuanar watched on with his arms folded across his chest.

Its a bold plan. But it just might work...

But in his heart, part of him longed for another chance at undoing the damned dead.

 

[Medja]

Before Medja had known it she found herself positioned in front of the walls of Salitra alongside her Emperor and Acteon. Not the most...comfortable place for a woman of her position, but she acknowledged that the safest place at any time was likely in close proximity to Gerra. Still, she hoped that the city's defenses didn't immediately open fire on the trio when they saw projectiles being hurled in from their war camp. She stood at the ready to raise a wall of earth in front of their group (or at least Gerra and herself) if things got dangerous.

Thankfully, that wasn't necessary. With many of the defenders apparently off the top of the wall already, the confectionery missiles were received in short order without Medja having to worry about getting perforated by arrows. Even more surprising was the series of events which transpired minutes later: a gate on the wall lifted and a handful of men on horseback exited from within, the one in the lead holding a stick with a white cloth tied to it...a traditional sign of peace.

Medja smiled. This amber-eyed imbecile was actually right. The mercenaries wanted to talk it out. It didn't take them long to close the distance. The group stopped perhaps ten yards from where Gerra stood.

"To those who would show mercy upon Salitra!" One of the mercenaries began, loud enough to be heard easily by the trio. "I am Azmi al-Jalali of the Silver Serpents company. I have come to negotiate on behalf of my commander!"

Mejda shared a thoughtful glance with Gerra, who seemed to expect her to do the legwork here. Perhaps he wished to see the courtier's work first hand, she surmised. She gave her lord a subtle bow of her head, then proceeded forward in front of him to what she estimated to be the halfway point between Azmi's group and her own. When she arrived, she alighted, then came to rest upon her knees in the sand, hands placed primly on her thighs.

"I am Courtier Medja of Ragash, servant and envoy of the God-Emperor of Amol-Kalit. Come. Join me, and we shall discuss a resolution to this matter which shall benefit us both."
Medja spoke with practiced confidence, ever the picture of control and finesse. A serene calm washed over her, both outwardly and within. This was, perhaps, the environment she found herself most comfortable in. She watched the mercenary dismount, and in moments he joined her, mirroring her position in the sand.
Time to go to work.

 

[Halul]

Salitra​

First, bread fell in empty streets save for the bodies that laid slain. However, those that hid in their homes quickly took notice to what was happening. While the bloody battle raged within the palace, the streets of Salitra cried out in the name of the rebellion. The grateful hungry scooped bread into their arms.
Mehmed wielded a short, crescented blade in each hand. The Lieutenant was a tempest in the battle; each move carried into the next without any interruption and all that remained in the wake of such a vicious storm were the corpses of those unfortunate enough to cross its path. Soon, all that remained between the rebels and Soleiman were two opulent doors.

As Mehmed attempted to push them open, he found that they were barred.

“Break these doors down!” he barked, and soon two barrels of men arrived and began to beat their shoulders against the set of doors.

The Captain rallied a majority of his Immortals, leaving behind only Arda, the watchman, and a handful of others to protect Gerra if the need arose. The rest, however, rode towards Salitra to find the source. As Uvogin rode, his grip furiously tightened on the reins. At every turn, it seemed that the vile undead stood in their way, always proving to be a hindrance to the plans set out by Gerra and his trusted underlings.

“Hyah!” Uvogin rode around the walls of Salitra in search of the necromancer, or if they were within the city’s walls, then another way in.

An odd, ominous feeling disconcerted the Captain as the mounted Immortals rode down Salitra’s walls and towards the coast.

 

[Acteon Cass]

The bread seemed to be working. Where before the mood of the city was pessimistic and ready for death, it was slowly allowing a sense of optimism and hope. A worthy carrot to dangle while the stick stood just outside the gates.

Acteon just sat in a militaristic fashion on his mount that the Allirian Guard used. It was certainly telling of which culture he came from but also made it easier when just sitting in the saddle like this waiting in armor. He hated this gods' forsaken heat though. When Medja began to move towards a white flag barring party he raised a brow. They looked familiar. Was it Abbi or Jerroh? No. That was Azmi from the Silver Serpents. Interesting. He said as he got his mount following the woman, "How about I guard your highly valuable servant."

As the group came up to them and the man announced himself, Acteon was sure he hadn't been noticed yet. Not unusual given the odd circumstances. It didn't take them long though to see their fellow sellsword. This got some looks of confusion amongst the rest of the party as the sand witch and his peer rested in a local fashion to discuss things.

Acteon flashed the others a toothy smile before dismounting. He said as he stepped in next to Medja in the way a guard would, "Azmi. How are you doing? Got those coins you owe me yet?"

The mercenary looked at Acteon with a surprised blink before calming himself. "Not as well as you it would seem. And no, I do not have your coins."

Acteon smirked at the man and before he could utter a word Azmi said, "Because you cheat."

Acteon shrugged. "A win is a win." His expression got more serious. "You should listen to the Mistress here. Seems the Emir is fine with cheating not just his enemy but his own men."

Azmi raised a brow at those words then directed his attention back onto Medja. "Please pardon the distraction Courtier Medja of Ragash. How might we come to a mutually beneficial deal this day?"

Acteon opted to stay quiet now. He didn't feel much companionship for the other sellswords but he knew how disciplined they were. It would be harder to take the walls if they didn't get their loyalty and he hoped his little rudeness would help them feel more comfortable with the foreign forces. It was hard to say, but he could at least try to help out some. Who knew how long it would take for the "Mistress" to get all high and mighty on them after all?

Gerra Uvogin Ashuanar

 

[Medja]

If Medja had the ability to sear through a person's skull simply by staring hatefully at them, Acteon would be a smoldering husk by this point. Instead, she held her composure and refused to even give a glance towards the bumbling mercenary. The fact that he would go to so much trouble to try and change teams and get gold out of the deal, only to do something so utterly, bafflingly foolish suddenly spelled out everything she needed to know about him: Acteon was an idiot. She let a small sigh out.

"Thank you, Acteon, that will be all." She said tartly.

Medja returned her attention to the matter at hand, unwilling to let her pace be disrupted by the amber-eyed fool. She watched Azmi's face twist into a grimace.

"What was that about the Emir 'cheating his own men'?" Azmi inquired. Mistakes into miracles after all.

"Were you not informed? I have it on good authority that the Emir did not pay his mercenaries in advance. He likely expects you to fight and die for him without dropping a coin into your collective purses." Medja responded matter-of-factly. It would have been a bold statement to make without proof had Acteon not already set her up for it. Perhaps she wouldn't kill him later, after all. Despite being sent as a negotiator, this Azmi fellow was not particularly good at keeping his hand hidden nor his poker face straight; in fact, his expression almost immediately twisted into one of outrage.
"Of course, servants of the God-Emperor are not nearly so mistreated..." She finished, letting him take the bait.

"What did you have in mind, Mistress Medja?"
Hook, line, sinker. Sellswords were usually an incredibly easy bunch to work with, Uvo being the only exception she could think of. It helped that the mercs already knew how utterly outgunned they were at this point. It was time to drive the nail into the coffin.

"Simple, really. The truth is that the Emir cannot afford to pay you at all. The Empire of Amol-Kalit, however, is both prosperous and generous. We offer you a thirty percent bonus on top of whatever contract the Emir of Salitra offered you. In exchange, we ask for your help in liberating this city from his tyranny."

Azmi's eyes went wide. He had likely been told to barter with whatever negotiator had been sent to meet with him, but the man was clearly ill suited to the task, or perhaps simply lacking experience. He likely hadn't expected a deal to be offered so quickly, and in light of the fact that his company would not be getting paid otherwise, Medja found the man offering a handshake in mere moments. A verbal contract, where a physical one had meant nothing.

"My commander has given me the authority to accept such a deal. The Silver Serpents are at your command."

Medja returned the handshake and smiled warmly.
"A wise decision and shrewd negotiation." She lied. "But you are not at my command, Sir al-Jalali. Approach the God-Emperor. He will inform you of his will."

Medja rose from her position and turned back towards her lord, staring him in the eyes with a devilishly proud look upon her flawless face.

 

[Acteon Cass]

Acteon almost could cry. The whole negotiation went well, although she over paid the Silver Serpents when she didn't need to. They could easily get away with less pay in this situation as the payment the Emir promised was as much as some small city states had in their coffers. She had turned to Gerra and was looking rather proud of herself. Time to ruin her mood.

A slow clap came from Acteon after the Silver Serpents had rushed back to the city to inform their boss of what was going on. "Congratulations. You bought the Silver Serpents. Now how do you plan to handle the rest?"

Already representatives from other companies were rushing out the gate to speak with Medja the way that Azmi had. Each had a white flag and were rushing forward trying to beat each other. It was hard to say exactly how many of them there was, but Acteon knew it wasn't all of them. He looked over at the floating woman. "I suggest you tighten up the coin purse before you bleed the Emperor dry. The only reason so many are here is the Emir is offering a literal fortune and I don't think this one city is worth offering it every company wishing for coin."

The first of the new arrivals made it. Jeoric of the Blackwater Blades. A tall man with scars all over his bald head. A fellow reachman as well that Acteon actually knew. He smiled and said, "I did not know they let old guard dogs out of their pens."

The big man swiveled his head towards Acteon and grimaced. "Gods forsake us. Acteon is that you or the heat making me see things again?"

"Unless you are dreaming of my handsome mug again, it is really me." Acteon responded.

Jeoric spat on the sand after dismounting. "So the city is lost then?"

"That it is." Acteon replied.

Jeoric began to let off a few choice words. "Gods help us. Never a good sign when you switch sides. Your nose for profit is too good at times like this." He let out a couple more words. "Who do I seem with?"

Acteon pointed towards Medja and Jeoric went over to discuss terms with her. As this happened Acteon looked over at the woman. "Shall I organize the mess for you and make it easy for you again? Or would you rather I stand here quietly and let the common rabble surround you so they can hound you for coin?"

Uvogin Ashuanar

 

[Medja]

Medja smirked. All exactly as planned.
"Oh, simple Acteon. Now that the others have witnessed the Serpents join our cause, the others will be desperate to jump ship as well. There will be no need to pay them all the same."

Indeed, the courtier had already worked this out in advance. There would be a clamor to make any gold at all out of this disaster of an engagement. She merely needed to start the cascade, and the other mercenaries pouring out of the city were proof that her gambit had worked. In any case, exact details of coin were more Achates' business than her own. The Empire was hardly starving for funds these days...

"Shall I organize the mess for you and make it easy for you again? Or would you rather I stand here quietly and let the common rabble surround you so they can hound you for coin?"

Medja smiled.
"I admit, your intervention was unintentionally convenient. Cooperate with me and I'll ensure that you're employed well beyond today..." Her smile slowly twisted into a sneer as she gave Acteon a sidelong glance down her nose. For just a moment, she showed one of her cards. She spoke low enough that she knew he would hear, but his fellow sellsword would not.
"...fuck with me and I'll make sure you never see moonlight again, wolf."

With that, she floated off. This was, quite literally, the best Acteon was ever going to get. She wasn't sure if she really, really wanted the merc to push his luck, or if she really, really didn't want to have to clean up the mess.

 

[Ashuanar]

Thud...​

Soleiman abruptly rose from his well cushioned seat, and the scantily clad maidens that fanned him with large leaves jumped, and fled in fear. Behind where he sat were a several ornate archways along a corridor leading to a number of chambers and passages exclusive from the rest of the palace, some even leading to hidden exits.

Thud...
​

"How could they have gotten this far!?" He demanded.

"Sir... the mercenaries..." the man was panting, short of breath from narrowly making it within, "they're not fighting."

Soleiman nearly exploded right then and there. How could it be he amass such an army to do nothing! To betray him like this? After all he had made for himself here in Salitra, after all this time. To be undone like this...

"Damn you Gerra..." his hand closed into a fist, and he struck the nearby pillar, carved of solid stone. His knuckle split. He swore, and nursed it.

"We must leave here," his advisor declared.

All of Soleiman's men began to file out of the chamber and down the backdoor halls to a hidden stable, and route out of town. But he stood there for a moment, watching the door shake with every blow. He felt his heart trembling, his hands and legs shaking. His eyes stinging with tears.

He wanted to scream and lash out, and tear and thrash about, but...

Thud..crack..thud..
​

He turned and fled, bounding down narrow corridors shoving any in his way aside. Some even fell to the ground. He scrambled his way through, ignoring the well-being of any the others.

He wanted out.

He needed out.

 

[Achates]

Where is the line?

How many little souls will I be comforting tonight before they fade away?​

The words continued to echo in her mind; they remained as dark images that she had kept hidden deep within her memory. Screams of terror yelled, and it took everything in the elven girl’s power to push the darkness back. Red eyes flashed, remaining locked on the Necromancer.

Something primal scratched inside of her wanting to be released.

“The only souls you’ll encounter this day are the ones of warriors fighting for their Kings,” Achates paused as she heard something in the distance. The sounds of horse hooves pounded against the ground too far for her to know their destination. “I refuse to kill those that are innocent if they draw weapons, I cannot protect them.”

Exhaling, Achates aimed with the crossbow towards the Necromancer. “Please retreat. Take your army of the dead and leave here, or you will be the soul needing to be comforted.”

Harrier Uvogin

 

[Harrier]

Achates

"Of course you can't protect them," Harrier said. "Gerra will roll over this city like the tide, no matter how many undead I've sold to Soleiman. All those little boys with their little jeweled daggers will die, either today or tomorrow. The young do tend to grow up - and worse, remember. Perhaps it would be better to kill them now. Perhaps some vengeful twelve-year-old will poison your cup in a couple of years, or Gerra's. Swearing allegiance comes with responsibilities, so by all means, assassin - go kill the children once you're done with me."

She held her ground.

 

[Achates]

“That’s where you’re wrong, Necromancer.” The familiar tightness in her chest twisted while she fought the primal animal from emerging. It clawed and roared, wanting to be released; the taste of fresh blood filled her mouth, feeding the creature. “I’m not an assassin; I hunt monsters…I erase them from existence to protect.”

The horses drew closer; they were moving towards her location more than likely. Time wasn’t on her side – Achates needed to finish this. “Our talk is over, and you’ve wasted your chance to get away.” The hand crossbow fired; the bolt zipped through the air towards the other woman. The sound of metal whipping through the air echoed as the hunter drew her short sword and moved quickly, using the incredible speed she gained through her heritage.

As she drew closer, she prepared to strike with the silver blade.

Harrier

 

[Harrier]

She let Achates get the last word. The crossbow bolt met a basic College magic ward and splintered in midair. The Elf came on quickly, closing the distance with supernatural speed that triggered Harrier's fight-or-flight instincts.

She went with flight - specifically another little College cantrip, a levitation charm that bounced her a good dozen feet up in the air. The big risk here was that anyone who could run that fast could probably jump quite high too.

The brief altitude gave her a glance at approaching horsemen, but whether they served Gerra or Soleiman was up in the air, as they say. Considering Soleiman's forces didn't know she existed, neither possibility boded well.

 

[Gerra]

The emperor watched impassively as Medja negotiated the loyalties of the mercenary companies guarding the walls. Well did he note how easily they betrayed their employer. Out of greed, or out of fear of the looming imperial army.

To Medja, he rumbled a simple “well done.”

To Acteon, he made a request.

“Thank you, mercenary. You spoke truth in the face of danger and delivered me the instruments of my enemy. When this is finished, bring me the captains of these companies. I have further rewards in mind for them.”

Then he too turned and strode back toward the imperial camp.

 

[Acteon Cass]

Things were going well enough but then Medja had to make her snide little comment and threat under her breath. Internally Acteon was ready to rip her throat out for daring to threaten him while also being a bit panicked that the woman had already picked up on his curse. It was not the hardest thing for someone with knowledge of his affliction to do though, so him trying to figure out how she knew quickly faded. But none of this showed on the outside. He was still just showing her the same smirk he had had earlier.

"Careful mumbling to yourself Mistress. It is not very ladylike or attractive." Acteon responded back to her before he went about getting the mercenaries rushing towards him organized so they were not all flooding the floating woman at once. This meant playing favorites and the bigger the bribe the more he liked certain people. People's willingness to pay for their position in line soon began to reflect in the order of representatives heading towards Medja. Coins and other shinies began to collect on Acteon's belt.

The sellsword had done his job and also buttered up the mercenaries to be easy to work a deal out of along with taking the bribes. No more companies were left and it was now just down to individuals who had signed up like himself, although they were very few in number. He rounded them up, got them to sort out a representative (which was met with more than a little push back from the greedier and more entitled ones), and then sent that one on their way to the big hands.

Gerra had made his request to Acteon, which the mercenary accepted with a simple bow, and so had made sure every company knew to gather their captains for him when he had formed the line. The individuals he left to their own devices as they were not mentioned by the giant.

Acteon's work was done, the captains were assembled, and so he made his way with them to Gerra's tent. He didn't know what the man had in mind for everyone. The mention of further rewards was enough to sway the captains into coming along, but a few of them were of the same mind as Acteon on it. This sounded like a possible execution. They had switched sides fairly easily and so loyalty would come into question. It was why Acteon planned to leave back to home the first chance he got. He had not been mentioned as part of this reward but he was going to have to be there for the meeting. Already he was figuring out how he could play this best to walk away with his head and his hands still on his body.

 

[Ashuanar]

The final volley of bread was slung into the air, and then the mangonels retreated. It would not do to have them out in the open for long.

And still Ashuanar stood and observed as his soldiers carried out their tasks. Carefully he watched. Indeed, he could see the dissent between his men - bickering, and arguing. Even threatening one another at times.

There was a frown affixed to his face. Lord Gerra was indeed correct, things would need to change.

He turned back to look upon the gathered force as a whole. He watched individual banners billowing in the wind, and his frown only deepened.

"Nak'Ehim... this must be fixed," he motioned to the Marya banner of Annuakat in particular.

"Indeed, Vizier. Only the divine banner of Gerra should hang above our heads."

Ashuanar pondered for a time, perhaps he had been too hard in his leadership. Perhaps he had been too soft. He took in a thoughtful breath, measuring the weight he felt from the responsibilities he now began to better understand.

"What would you suggest we do?"

"You must play your hand carefully, Vizier. Nobles are often... fickle. It will take great guile to sway them..."

An Abtati approached,

"General, the Emperor returns."

Ashuanar turned back toward the city, watching as Gerra returned with an entourage of who he believed to be mercenaries in tow. He nodded in affirmation, and glanced to Nak'Ehim.

"Prepare to take the city. The time draws near, I suspect."

 

[Halul]

Salitra​

The doors splintered apart and rebels flooded into an empty throne room prepared for a final battle only to be left in a state of confusion.

Mehmed rushed in and paced around, thinking for a moment and promptly concluded his thoughts by cursing under his breath.

“Find where they escaped!”

It did not take long for the rebels to locate the passage used by Soleiman. Mehmed led them as they rushed down the halls.

The distant rumble of horses soon rose to a rhythmic thundering as Uvogin and his Immortals rode closer. The captain himself pointed at the figure that flew up in the air.

"There!" he shouted to his men, "On me!"

He and the Immortals rode forth and Uvogin could see the frame of a familiar face appear. Uvogin rode to Achates and kept a wary eye on the floating mage; his Immortals flanked him.

Achates Harrier