Open Chronicles The Sacking of Salitra

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The first of those in charge finally arrived. The group might have all been dressed the same but it was clear from how they all moved which one was the leader. Acteon studied Ashuanar for a brief second then concluded the man was likely the General of this army. At least that was the way he moved and how his men reacted to his movements. A curt question followed and Acteon raised a brow. The way the words were spoken was as if this whole affair was not his priority. Curious. This little story was becoming more of a drama every passing moment. How serious these actors were thinking they were the leads. Sadly they had yet to realize they were only the supports. But Acteon wasn't going to ruin the man's delusion.

A woman arrived not long after and Acteon quickly focused in on her. This was the one who clearly was pulling the strings within the city. She had that authoritarian air no soldier, even as high up as a General, would ever have. Even the highest of the military ranks still had a sense of duty and servitude about them. This woman clearly saw herself as above all of that. And the way she addressed him was just confirmation. Did none of these people know how to keep the act going or cared enough to hide their intentions? Sad state of things for an army this size.

Acteon just smiled from his seat and remained in it, so as not to appear "threatening" to those before him. He laid his hands in his lap after resting his right ankle on his left knee. While his dress said mercenary his current behavior was screaming merchant. "I am Acteon and back in my homeland of Alliria it means 'one who hunts with dogs' or 'one who is hunted by dogs'. There is much debate over the exact translation as it is an old name. Does that answer your question Vizier Ashuanar?"

The grin that Acteon gave to the man showed he clearly knew what the general meant with his question despite the answer given. He then turned his ambers over to Medja and a flash of excitement was directed her way. His grin went from his earlier friendly merchant nature to a more like that of a predator studying potential prey.

"I am afraid I did not catch your name, Mistress, but I can assure you that I am no mongrel. My family is old and well known back in my native land of the Reach. And as for which is more precious right now, your time or my life, well that is up for debate given the information I have." Acteon said to Medja in a friendly tone with just a bit of an edge under the surface. His smile and eyes shifted back to the friendly merchant nature from earlier before he continued on.

"I assume you are behind the unrest and supporting the rebels in the city. Excellent work." Acteon relaxed himself a bit more into the chair. "Did you know about the mercenaries, such as myself, though? How about the necromancer?"

And Acteon just left it there. Certainly he was giving up that information for free, but he could work with it. You couldn't hold everything back after all and this might get their minds going in the right direction. If he was lucky they might even listen to his little plan and hopefully with it a nice reward.
 
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Reactions: Medja and Ashuanar
As aware as one such as Ashuanar was, he was deeply troubled when Medja's voice could be heard just beside him. An odd sensation, when she first spoke he nearly straightened his back straight-away - barely manage to hold the certainty of his composure.

He swallowed.

Before he could regard her, the captive replied. At first he listened with a single brow arched, somewhat impressed with his tact. However when the man's amber eyes fell upon Medja he felt a deep thud in his chest. Then Acteon spoke to her. His words were laced with malevolent appetite, and they offended him far more grevously than the man's chosen tone with him just prior.

His brows came together, and beneath white cloth his mouth curled into a deep frown.

You'll regret that...you impudent, mite ridden, short eared -

"Did you know about the mercenaries, such as myself, though? How about the necromancer?"

But of course from what they knew of this city's self imposed leader it was far from unimaginable for him to have hired outsiders far and wide. Paired with ships coming and going every day there were bound to be an abundance of sell swords at any given time. But a necromancer? The mention of such a magician stirred hushed murmurs from the soldiers among them, some even proposing the prospect of the Eternum's presence. Ashuanar himself paused.

Necromancer? Here? How could Soleiman...

Hm...


"Indeed."

Ashuanar looked to Medja, offering an unenthused look, then back to Acteon.

"And if what you presume is true, and we are behind the rebellion within the city, then would we not have eyes on what lies within? How would we not be aware of such magics?"

He took a few steps forward, turning his head over his shoulder to maintain his eye contact.

"Where would they hide?"

 
Acteon's attitude wasn't earning him any favors in Medja's eyes. He exhibited an air of confidence and pride that simply did not suit the situation he was in. It was bad enough that this dog had spoken out of turn to an Imperial vizier, but then he had the gall to...what, flirt with Medja? Had the courtier been a less patient woman she would've executed the man on the spot for such insolence, but she had been playing the game far too long to simply dispose of a pawn that easily now.

Perhaps far more interesting to Medja was the way Ashuanar's shoulders tensed when Acteon spoke to her. Subtle, but present, and quite telling. Medja suddenly found a small part of herself feeling very...hungry. It was enough of a distraction to curb her initial temper towards their uninvited guest, if only slightly.

As the deserter continued to prattle on, he mentioned something positively preposterous.
"Did you know about the mercenaries, such as myself, though? How about the necromancer?"
She caught Ashuanar's glance backwards at her and returned it with a confident smirk. She floated forward to meet the general and gently raised a hand to his ear, leaning in to whisper.

"We have no reason to believe this drivel, dear Ashuanar. Please, allow me to..." She punctuated her pause with a none-too-subtle glance up and down the vizier's person. "...take care of this for you."

She then floated back from Ashuanar a short distance and gave him a knowing smile. Even in the midst of war there was fun to be had, it seemed. The courtier affixed her gaze upon Acteon next. Any playfulness in her expression was immediately replaced by a piercing yet apathetic stare. Should the vizier give the word she would whip this disrespectful pup into a proper and subservient dog in an instant. The prospect delighted her.
 
Acteon watched the two higher ups as they basically did not enjoy the way he spoke to them. Excellent. He had not enjoyed the way they spoke to him either. They clearly were ready to dismiss him anyways until the mention of a necromancer. That got both of their attention and it even got the Vizier talking to him. Wonderful. Seemed he was in a listening mood. But the woman, who still had yet to name herself, floated over like a feather on the wind and whispered to her companion.

Acteon heard every word. If he had been human he never would have but those heightened senses were the only good part about being cursed. It let him eavesdrop let he never could before. The real problem was if he should show that hand yet or let them think they were having a little secret meeting from him. Best to wait. For now he had a question to answer.

Acteon let Medja finish whispering to Ashuanar before he said in a friendly tone, "To answer you, Vizier, they are not hiding. They are walking down the streets like any other person. Best way to hide an asset is to act like you don't even have it in the first place."

The reachman grinned at them both wolfishly. "For how I know, well, that is a trade secret. There is a reason I left the city like I did. Can't get paid if your employer dies, and with a necromancer I imagine everyone in that city is going to die."

Acteon's smile shifted back into being friendly once more. "To answer how you are unaware, I imagine it is because you were more focused on crippling the city's economy and fanning the flames of rebellion." He tapped his nose as he said, "I told you I am not just a sellsword. I am also from an old merchant family. It is easy to see the signs of tampering on a local economy. I just did not care enough investigate who or why. Not what I was paid for. With your focus on other matters however it would be easy for a necromancer to just walk into the city and pretend to be another traveler. Plenty of foreigners coming in after all with all the sellswords about."

The man shifted in his chair a bit. Acteon was being wordy. He knew it but he was also enjoying himself right now. If they wanted to keep playing this little game of "we hold all the cards you deserter" then he could feed them hints bit by bit while talking down to them. It was how they started this little chat after all.

"So your current situation is that the Emir's defenses are made up of loyalists and sellswords alongside a necromancer against your rebels and you. Do either of you see where this could end very poorly for your side?" Acteon said to them as he straightened up a bit. "Let me just enlighten you. You have created a killing field that already has plenty of people dying even before the fighting has started with your enemy locked up in his castle, sellswords on the walls, and a necromancer just waiting for there to be enough dead bodies to overwhelm you when you think you are winning. I already did you a favor and pulled all the sellswords to the walls and away from the castle so your rebels might stand a chance by telling the Emir you are out here ready to attack. If you attacked right now I'm sure you could win also, but dead bodies for the necromancer."

Acteon gave them another wolfish grin. "You want to win right? You want that city? I know exactly how you can remove two of the Emir's pawns and leave him crippled. Sounds like a good deal for you right?"
 
Ashuanar fought the compulsion to watch her as she hovered about. That in itself began to puzzle him - he'd never before felt quite the way he did now. And of all times, no less. But despite what he may have betrayed thus far he did force himself to concentrate on the task at hand. The presence of undead was no small matter, and he felt as though he needed to handle this situation with a great deal more tact than he had so far. He found himself thinking back to that day during the coronation in Ragash. In that conflict, even some of his own brethren had turned against Gerra - a transgression he very well could have suffered consequences for.

But instead he was shown mercy, and honoured for his faithfulness.

He inhaled, deeply as he measured this Acteon - one who hunts with dogs.

There were two things to consider here - plus one he had to work diligently to ignore: Acteon could be lying through his teeth to save his own hide following some unforeseen fallout he'd experienced or something else to that effect or, he was telling the truth - even a half truth perhaps - and there were indeed undead to contend with within Salitra. Possibly even the Eternum for all they knew, which could spell far more trouble than they had anticipated.

But even if that horrid dragon dare show itself to him again, it would not expect to see him as he is now. He thoughts fell to the Band of Serqet, and the beasts it granted him power over.


He may indeed be called upon, before this city be taken.

He studied Acteon for a moment and then looked to Medja, "wait... perhaps there is more to what he says than we've assumed."

His eyes cast down, unsure of how he felt when he looked at her, but he masked it as a thoughtful glance. Then he turned to one of his men.

"Escort him to somewhere to stay, and allow him whatever he needs. We will inform the lord Gerra of what he has shared," and he looked back to Acteon with a meaningful gaze, "and he will decide your fate. But I will say this, if what you say is true, then you are wise to have come to us."

With that he gestured he be unshackled, and allowed a limited and heavily escorted passage through the camp to a tent of his own - a generous one at that. Ashuanar thought it befitting Emperor Gerra's benevolence - despite how the Vizier felt. And yea, he may yet turn out to be telling the truth.

After he was escorted out, turned to Medja, "is there any way to know if what he says is true? Is that within your power?"
 
Salitra
Maecey

The rebels cleaved their way through the palace guard, leaving a bloody wake in their unrelenting path. The mercenary reinforcements would soon prove to pose a significant threat to the rebellion however; while the city guard responded to the several fires around Salitra, the mercenaries split away to defend the palace and their employer. A light detachment of the city guard remained at the walls where the two other Immortals stalked.

The rebels were unknowing of the oncoming mercenaries and raged in confidence that Emir Soleiman would soon fall to their blades.


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Gerra's Camp

Uvogin stood upon a mound just outside of the camp, squinting through his mask at Salitra's walls. He could see smoke rise in the distance. The man nodded once to himself and turned around to leave.

"Arda," he waved for the Immortal that stood a few paces behind him, "If they signal, find me."

With that, he left Arda to watch the walls and returned to camp only to see an unfamiliar face get escorted to a tent. Uvogin entered from where the stranger just came and found Medja and Ashuanar there.

"Everything is as planned," he announced.
 
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The sound of the ocean echoed while it was disturbed by something beyond its might, caused the wolf girl to glance at it slightly. Bone clean of meat and organ washed up on the shore, proving her nose to have been right. Eyes focused again on the woman as she spoke. The stench of death was more potent now that the boat had surfaced.

Achates raised the loaded crossbow and aimed it towards the woman. Keeping her distance, she arched a brow and decided to press this Harrier Wren.

“I do. I was a mercenary myself. So, who’s paying you, who’s bought your loyalty?”

As the Vizier of the treasury, she doesn’t recall the God-Emperor adding another on the payroll.
 
Medja was getting increasingly uncomfortable and annoyed with this "Acteon." The way he spoke was too knowing and his expressions were far from...normal. The courtier at first tried to pass his words off as a bluff, but now she wasn't so sure. She also didn't like how the man seemed to react after she had whispered into Ashuanar's ear. There was something distinctly familiar about this man, though she couldn't quite place it...he reminded her of someone else within Gerra's court.

Still, there was always the chance that this man was just a very ambitious fool seeking coin and solace where he ought to find none. Or this could be a desperate ploy by the Emir to buy time. It seemed incredibly unlikely that Medja's agents would not have informed her of the presence of an entire undead legion if they were present before the operation had begun.

The sorceress brought a bandaged hand to her face in consideration. Quite the predicament, indeed.
"wait... perhaps there is more to what he says than we've assumed."
The general was far more merciful and patient than she, clearly. Medja couldn't decide whether or not she found this admirable or not, but she respected his decision regardless. At Ashuanar's command, she watched as the sellsword was unshackled and escorted from the tent. At the very least, she would've left the man chained...if her suspicions were correct, he'd have no problem overpowering a contingent of guards and escaping. Everything about this made her feel strangely uneasy.


"is there any way to know if what he says is true? Is that within your power?"
Confident that the distinctly wolfish man was out of earshot now, Medja turned to respond to the vizier. Another fellow who liked his masks, but she could at least see this one's eyes. The sorceress regarded him for a moment, then replied nonchalantly.

"I normally wouldn't share the details of my techniques, but yes, I have ways to make him talk." Medja placed a hand on Ashuanar's chest as she spoke and smiled. As she did so, her bandages began to slip off and snake their way into the vizier's cloth raiment, clinging to the bare skin of his chest. She bit her lip and stared up into the man's eyes, shimmering green orbs boring deep.
"A person's heart is a sensitive thing. The slightest shift in its beating can betray secrets...truths..." She smiled, coyly "...desires. I can sense vibrations through stone, earth, and sand. Even the subtle changes in one's heartbeat. If he's lying, I'll know."

Of course, the interrogation of Acteon would be nowhere near this sensual (far from it), but she couldn't pass up the opportunity to tease the normally frigid general.
 
"Soleiman Afrit needed a second army in support. I happened to have one for sale. I'd say for rent, but I doubt na-Gerra will leave them intact. Those he can damage, anyway."

Harrier smiled faintly and sat down on a rock, staff across her knees. Behind her, the undead whale-slash-boat slid back under the waves.

"Tell me, Achates, before you shoot me - why do people follow him? Strength, vision? Is he some consummate leader or just the largest man in any given room?"
 
After Acteon had departed so too did the soldiers, who took up posts outside. This left the two members of Gerra's court alone. He felt tense, even a little confused. He'd always been so sure of himself - years of tortured slavery casting a well hardened shell over a pierced and bleeding heart, stifling all distraction. A vengeful killer. Merciless. But here, now, when only weeks ago he saw a liability he now saw...

Medja placed a hand on Ashuanar's chest as she spoke and smiled.

... he wasn't quite sure what he saw. He felt her palm gentle pressed against him. It made his mouth dry. His chest tightened. Bandages brushed across his skin made him sharply inhale.

"A person's heart is sensitive thing...
...If he's lying, I'll know."

"Indeed," he replied, his hand slowly rising toward her face, "my lady, I must apologize for my behaviour. I'm afraid I-"

"Everything is as planned," he announced.

Ashuanar's eyes raced to see Uvogin, and he froze, "Ah, Captain... yes. Well..."
 
Just as Medja had said, the clay-infused bandages revealed emotion and intent. The courtier could feel Ashuanar's heart pounding rapidly, excited and unsure. His breathing grew ragged. His eyes went wide behind his cloth covering. Medja was eating it all up.

"my lady, I must apologize for my behaviour. I'm afraid I-"
His hand slowly approached her face. So close now...Medja now understood why the man had been so apprehensive and cold before. He was struggling to comprehend his own feelings. Adorable. Though it was hardly the time or place, she could hardly wait to test the boundaries of this newfound dynamic.

"Everything is as planned,"
...later. As smoothly as the bandages had made their way into Ashuanar's shirt they withdrew and retook their place among the mass that covered her, as though they'd never left. The interruption didn't bother her at all, in fact, the timing couldn't have been more perfect. Now she could leave the vizier frustrated and longing for more.

Medja rotated in place to face the Immortal captain.
"Good. To be expected...though it seems we may have a bit of a...hitch in our plans."
Poised and relaxed, as though nothing had ever happened.
 
Achates was curious about the woman; she did not seem bothered seeing a weapon drawn with her as the target. Finger rested on the trigger, and she took a few steps closer.

Harrier asked her questions, and Achates tightened her lips for a moment in thought. Maybe it was possible to convince the woman from unleashing whatever army she packed away.

“Gerra,” Achates fought to keep the small smile that pulled at her lip, “He’s a competent and compassionate leader. Everything he does has a reason, and he’s gentle to his people.”

Talking about the man calmed her as she stood there still with her weapon drawn. Deep garnet red eyes gazed towards Harrier, trying to see a change in the woman.
 
Achates got her few steps. Harrier let the Elf close the distance between them. They stood about ten yards apart now, with scum-slick beach rock between them. A crab scuttled away out of an abundance of caution.

"I can't tell if you're telling the truth, so give me an example of your master's compassion from the past, oh, week."

A very good liar might offer an anecdote on the spot. A decent one might trip.
 
Uvogin glanced between the two and without missing a beat stepped forward.

"If there is a hitch, then resolve it." There was no anger in his voice, nor did Uvogin seem particularly bothered by the closeness the pair had shown. Though, none could tell what Uvogin was thinking, nor would Medja detect any tells in Uvogin that would lend to any discomfort.

"Vizier," he looked to Ashuanar, completely disregarding the general's discomfort, "it would be wise to have your men ready. We may need to move on Salitra ourselves at any moment."
 
She was taken aback by the question. At first, she assumed that the hermit looking woman would attempt to change the subject. Achates didn’t falter, in her heart, she believed in Gerra, she invested in him.

“As I said, he’s kind. Even when people fail – he gives them another chance. His first concern is the Empire’s well-being and will stop at nothing to ensure its success.”

The girl believed with her entire being in Gerra; he had shown her a side of him that spoke to her, and she would keep her promise to stay at his side.

Harrier
 
Achates

"Clearly he's fortunate to have a believer like you. I have to wonder how far you'll go."

She gestured up at the walls of Salitra, less than a quarter mile to the south.

"Say your God-Emperor wins the day. Soleiman Afrit is a man worth killing, it's true - but he has sons. Their ages are eighteen, fifteen, eleven, nine, five, and two. They will hate Gerra forever. How many of the princes would you kill?"
 
Achates showed no falter in her stance as she stood still aiming her weapon. Inwardly, she felt her stomach twist with the thought of something happening to innocents. It wasn’t the children’s fault their father was the man he was.

“The children,” Achates paused and shortened the range between them, “they would have the choice to follow Gerra. The younger ones I will personally protect – they don’t have an understanding of what is happening.”

The children, they didn’t know – they were truly innocent. “Why so many questions? I have one for you, why the dead? Why have you brought the dead?”

Harrier
 
"But where's the line? Assume none follow Gerra. Assume they stay defiant. Will you protect the nine-year-old? The eleven-year-old? The fifteen-year-old?"

Calm chipped away. Harrier got up from her stone seat and held out an empty hand, palm down. "Some fifteen-year-old boys are this tall, or this small. Would you kill that prince before he's ever kissed a girl, lived alone, or raised a blade in anger?"

Despite herself, she felt her eyes prickling with the helpless anger she kept banked and tried not to think about.

"Where is the line, Achates? How many little souls am I going to be comforting tonight as they fade away?"
 
Is this... what is this...?
It was like all of time slowed to allow for his thought. As bandages were gently pulled away and the gentle pressure on his chest lifted... he felt an longing. He felt an ache. It was a feeling so foreign to him, but also vaguely familiar. Inside him was a shifting and uneasy footing, trembling under the weight of him.

He turned to face Uvogin, clearing his throat, "yes you are right of course, Captain."

He looked at Medja with a long and thoughtful stare, the focus in his eyes honed sharply upon her. Like her before, his eyes now descended down her figure, and then shot back to her eyes. He was hardly bashful about it.

"My lady."

He started on his way out, pausing by Uvogin just before exiting, "it is possible there are undead in the midst of the town. We are going to find out."

One last look back at Medja, before nodding to Uvogin and departing out of the tent.
 
"My lord," he said, humbly. Almost... fearfully.

He realized been quite distracted up until this point, but in this moment his attention was totally and completely present. He bowed his head, and dropped all other matters from thought to address him with the most recent news.

Despite all that he had toiled with over the last few hours, he felt he had handled the situation adequately.

"A..." he struggled to find the right term, unsure that deserter was quite appropriate any longer, "... messenger, my lord, from the city. He claims there to be a presence of undead lying in wait within the city. I was to see if his words be true before addressing you."
 
“Take me to him.”

"Of course,"

He made his way out of the tent, gesturing for a few of the soldiers to escort them to the "messenger's" tent. They arrived in short time at a fairly well equipped visitors tent, far more lavish than anything the soldiers would likely have, but far less so than the Emperor.

Ashuanar entered in, clearing his throat to grab Acteon's attention with a subtle demand for some respect.

"My lord Gerra, this is Acteon, he who hunts with dogs."

 
"My lady."
Medja adored the attention, of course, but Gerra's sudden arrival demanded her attention. She followed behind the men as they journeyed through camp towards where Acteon was being held. Upon their arrival, Medja addressed the God Emperor.
"My God-Emperor, by your grace, I can discern whether this man tells the truth. Should you wish it of me, of course."

Medja spoke with the utmost tact and respect to their king. She would not bother to explain how, as she had with Ashuanar.
 
“Yes, accompany me,” he said quickly to Medja.

They arrived at the tent in short order.

“Indeed,” Gerra raised an eyebrow, looking the dark haired man over with his usual appraising intensity, the way he might an ingot of metal at the forge. How pure was that metal and what might he create with it? Could it withstand heavy hammer blows, or must he be delicate?

“Greetings Acteon, I hear you bring us news of undead in the city.”