Fable - Ask The Toll

[Kristen Pirian]

Kristen fell to her knees. The entirety of her body trembled with exhaustion and depletion, both of a physical and arcane nature. She was spent. Utterly spent. Blood splattered her armor all over, streaked in great brushstrokes across her face, and drenched her hair so thoroughly that the auburn had turned wholly red.

Behind her was field of bodies, freshly impaled. Some twitched in throes of death. Some clung to life, on the verge of dying, but vain was their effort. These soldiers so impaled, framed against the blistering yellow and horrid crimson of the sunset, made for a grisly sight. And these were not the only dead, for her fellows had slain many of their own. Yet it all had to be done. The Mad Legion, so this band of mutated Guardsmen were called, had been corrupted beyond redemption. They would have seen all scoured before them: Kristen and her compatriots, every village in their path, perhaps even Vel Lameus or Vel Stratholm if they had gotten so far.

All at once Kristen's Impalers shot back into the ground from which they had burst, and a rain of bodies, the clamor thereof, ensued. Grim commotion, there and gone.

"Blessed Aionus..." Kristen spoke in a soft whisper, looking skyward, "preserve me..."

Someone said something. Pointed to the east, to the darker horizon of that battleworn field. Kristen summoned the wherewithal and the vestiges of strength necessary to look. And her breath caught in her throat.

A foe that no one had been expecting was approaching, the dark of the coming night to their back.​

---

"Tarantino"-style thread. Here's the intent:

1) Everyone with their first post contributes to the establishment of a climatic scene.
2) We then go back and RP how we get to this scene, knowing that it will happen.
3) We resolve the climatic scene we all set up initially, and anything else that may follow afterward.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

He was blind. It had finally happened. Alistair had pushed his visual magics to their limit to the point he could no longer pay the price. A perfect response to his years of magical use, burning away like a short fuse until it left him in utter darkness...No, wait!

His hand reached up and furiously rubbed at his eyes, his being begging to feel something. A shiver of relief shot through his body as he felt the dry, caked-on layer of blood finally give way. The rush of colors, or more specifically the orange and reds of the sky, were the first things to meet him.

The next was...Carnage.

Carnage that he had released onto the world, for the first time, with reckless abandon. Alistair knelt on both of his knees, exhaustion, both physical and mental weighing him down like the sky on Atlas' shoulders.

It was just him in the immediate area. Surrounded by death that looked like it had been unleashed from the madhouse of the gods. All around him, there were those with heads and limbs severed from a blade, scorched, and frozen from spells. Sand that had turned to liquid and drowned individuals. Even parts of the earth had risen up with thick earthen cords to strangle his foes.

Yes, Alistair had used every rune in his arsenal, and the sickening results would remain scarred in his brain for decades to come.

If he would have been allowed, he would have shut his eyes again and let sleep take him, but he heard the call from one of his allies. That was good. It meant others had survived.

He slowly forced his head to turn and see what the commotion was. The looming force seemed to put a whole other layer of exhaustion upon him. His body screamed for him to just lay down and accept death. To stop all of this constant fighting.

"Just one more," Al whispered under his breath, as his hands pushed off the ground trying to force him to his feet.

Kristen Pirian

 

[Lothar]

A low cackle escaped his throat as he knelt down over the Sorcerer's corpse.

His clothes were ragged and torn, the bandage that had been wrapped around his arm long ago torn away. A dozen eyes, embedded within his flesh, all peered down at the ragged figure on the ground beneath him. Some now lay closed, others were half lid, while almost all those that remained pulsed with bright red blood vessels. Strain and stress on each and every one of them.

"Almost." He said with a chuckle, leaning down as his fingers extended towards the fallen figure. Splatters of blood covered his features, his left iris seeming to bleed into the white of his eye. From the curve of his palm, flesh began to extend, drawing forward and grasping at the corpse below.

A loud squelching sound echoed out as Lothar pulled the deadman's eye free. "Almost."

He repeated, breathless.

Long having forgotten that he was on the battlefield, long having forgotten that his fellow Initiate's had been fighting side by side.

Forgetting what he was now.

Never caring what he had done in plain view in front of any that still remained alive.

 

[Zinnia]

Blazing, golden eyes, with pupils sharp like blades, darted around to drink in the sight of the warzone around her and the others. So many were gone now. So many that were still here were gone now. Zinnia, too, was losing herself. She felt the sensation of a growl begin to rip its way up from her throat, then heard the sound hit her ears a moment later. Warbling, ear-piercing, unnatural. Her canines glinted in the waning light, a tear of red dripping from a pearly, sharpened point.

The Mad Legion had spread its curse among them all. Zinnia had ripped more than one apart with her bare hands. Arms and armor had been cast aside, her hood in tatters. A crawling sensation crept across her skin, threatening to consume her entirely in the radiant, golden shell that gripped at her extremities. Tickling, tingling sensations rippled along her shoulder blades, some foreign forms longing to tear their way skyward. The pull was relentless, now more than ever.

"Stop, stop, stop! If you do this there will be no going back! They'll all see, they'll ALL SEE!"
​

Reason intervened. Interfered. Always in the way, always stopping her on the cusp. That weak side, longing for acceptance, clawing desperately for love and belonging, gripping tight to humanity. Another growling scream wrenched from her throat as she inverted the ribcage of the soldier beneath her.

A call. Eastward. Bones cracked as Zinnia's neck wrenched upwards towards that cry. The pile of corpses around her concealed her presently, but that wouldn't last if she crawled out now. What did it matter if they saw now? If there was no going back? If she stopped now, if she turned away, if she even relented, there would be nothing left to save. Not herself nor anyone else.

If anyone else was still sane enough to even care at this point. Her lips curled upwards, fangs barred and brilliant.

"Fuck it."​

 

[Kristen Pirian]

THREE DAYS PRIOR​

They sat eating dinner together in the village of Selmack. Veal, quite the treat, but the Selmack villagers spared no expense within their means to accommodate their Dreadlord guests. Tomorrow they were to set out for Fort Velkath (yes, named after that very Pirian) and confer with the local Guard force there to continue their search—their search which had so far this past week proven fruitless.

Kristen especially was invested in this mission. It was a variety commonly handed out to Initiates, a task involving the investigation and dispersal of some dangerous but low-level situation; here in this case it was reports of dark magic. Units of Anirian Guard, save for the garrison at Fort Velkath as it happened, were quite busy with engagements elsewhere, and with the spottiness, variety, and even alleged unreliability of the reports from all the frightened townsfolk and villagers in the region, the task was handed off to the Academy.

Despite their week spent effectively chasing ghosts, Kristen believed firmly that the reports had to be true. Because it was her own father, Neil Taeris Pirian, who had put in the initial request for aid. To the south was Vel Lameus, to the east Vel Stratholm, but to the north was House Pirian's own Vel Numera. If Father thought there was a significant threat, then Kristen believed it to be so whole-heartedly as well.

The last thing she wanted was for her fellow Initiates, Zinnia and Lothar, or worse, for Alistair himself, to think that her Father was an alarmist and a fool, wasting their time and wasting Anirian resources by naively buying into the tales of a few spooked countryfolk who saw or heard a strange thing in the night.

Their dinner had thus far been quiet; they were the only ones in the dining room of Selmack's small traveler's inn.

Kristen set her fork and knife down for a moment and broke the silence, saying, "Fort Velkath. Surely there the vigilance of the Guard will prove useful. If anyone has a firm lead available for us to follow, it will be them, no?"

She smiled in a friendly manner. This was hardly the first mission she'd had with Alistair, but it marked the first for Zinnia and Lothar both.

Alistair Krixus Lothar Zinnia

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair absentmindedly nursed the bowl of simple soup in front of him. Laid to his left was a simple map with several circles marking areas where the rumors of this dark magic had occurred. He had originally hoped to pick out a pattern, but after looking at the map for the last few hours, he still could not find the connecting dots. They were too spread out and erratic.

Normally, with as little evidence as they had found and with this supposedly being about dark magics, this was something that Alistair would have called off by the end of the week. However, it was Kristen and her family who were asking, so he would give them the benefit of the doubt.

He finally look up from the map when he noticed that the spoon that he kept bringing to his lips was no longer bringing food with it. It seems that he had downed the soup quite readily, maybe he was more hungry than he realized.

Alistair's eyes looked to all of the other members of this mission. He had never worked with Lothar or Zinnia so his gazes remained on them longer. His gaze rested on Kristen for a moment longer but for a completely different reason.

"I agree. Let's hope they had some concrete information, or the next few days could be difficult."

Kristen Pirian Lothar Zinnia

 

[Lothar]

Lothar had never been one to complain, mostly because if he had, no one would listen.

Before the revolution his voice had been worth less than the copper pot people used to piss in, and he'd found that largely that was true even now. The stigma of strength still prevailed through the Academy, and for all intense and purposes Lothar was still one of the weakest of his peers.

At least as far as they knew.

His fingers idly scratched against the top of the bandage which covered the entirety of his hand and forearm. A crude disguise which kept the tell-tale signs of his stolen magics away from prying eyes.

No one yet knew what he had done, what he was no capable of, and Lothar fully intended to keep it that way for as long as possible. If people found out, if they knew...there would be questions he wasn't entirely ready to answer.

A frown pulled at his lips as he noticed Alistair staring at him, coming out of his own trance as he cleared his throat.

"Yes." He agreed with a nod, glancing at his fellow Initiate's for a brief moment. "I imagine we'll find something."

In truth, Lothar had no idea if they would. He had been a last minute replacement on this assignment when another of the Initiate's who'd been set to go had been sent somewhere else instead. "It might be worth while to ask after local rumors."

He suggested, expecting the thought to be shot down. As most of his ideas usually were.

 

[Zinnia]

Goodness gracious, so this was veal! Zinnia had never had anything so fancy to eat in her entire life. The thought of how it was prepared was not the most pleasant set of images ever to be conjured in Zinnia's mind, but the taste, the tenderness, by everything holy was it divine.

She would have expressed as much if the dinner thus far hadn't been so...somber. Showing her elation while everyone was so quiet and serious was probably a social faux pas, so Zinnia matched the mood, quietly cutting away at her meal before sinking her teeth into each new bite.

In truth, Zinnia was likely tremendously out of her depth here. She had tagged along as a volunteer, and only because the offer had been presented by Proctor Snicket and she'd felt bad for deceiving the man some months prior. If she'd known she was getting into the business of House Pirian, especially that of Kristen's, she might've thought twice.

Instead, here she was a week into the expedition, breaking bread with the noble girl and two other initiates that she hardly knew.

Zinnia caught the attempted friendly smile as well as the awkward stare from Alistair in the middle of raising her fork to her waiting mouth. Her fork froze in mid air as her gaze shifted back and forth between the two other student Dreadlords, and her lips slowly curled upwards into a deeply uncomfortable looking smile before she set her fork back down. The wallflower sighed as the realization of possible failure settled in on her.

"We're r-running out of options...I'm n-not sure what we can d-do if they've got n-nothing for us."

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Alistair and Zinnia shared their sentiments, the former with his characteristic realism, the latter with that hint of doubt Kristen feared. Gods, it felt as though a great weight was upon her shoulders, nothing less than the reputation of House Pirian! How embarrassing if this all turned out to be nothing more than a meandering, worthless waste of time!

Kristen looked to Lothar after his suggestion. "Around here in Selmack, you say? Perhaps..." She rubbed at the back of her neck; unfortunately, the villagers from every other village, with their tales exaggerated by fear or alarm or a general sense of unease if nothing else, didn't inspire much confidence. But she was trying to keep optimistic, and as well to engage with Lothar, whom she'd yet to truly know, fairly. "Well, hmm, it could be that the villagers offer something which the soldiers at Fort Velkath might corroborate. That would be good, I would say. Yes, after supper, mayhap, we could conduct another round of inquiries—"

"That would be a foolish idea," came a familiar voice.

Kristen, surprised, looked over her shoulder and saw a most unexpected sight. Redoran Pirian, approaching their table with a casual gait, having come in quite discreetly from the front door. He was a distant cousin, only slighter younger than her father Neil, and he was dressed in all a noble's finery, making him stand out in the quaint setting of the Selmack traveler's inn.

"Pardon the sudden interruption," he said, to Kristen mostly but with an eye (a slightly bloodshot eye, as though he hadn't slept well) to her three companions as well, "but I knew I would find you here, Kristen. May I have a word with you?"

Kristen glanced to Alistair, to Lothar, to Zinnia. Then she wiped at her mouth with her handkerchief, said, "Excuse me," and stood from the table. "I shall return in a moment."

And she walked with Redoran toward the door, toward his awaiting carriage outside, wondering about a number of things.

Alistair Krixus Lothar Zinnia

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair's right eyebrow slowly raised in a questioning manner as he watched the noble enter the tavern. It was unsurprising that he came straight for them, straight for Kristen. He watched the two of them walk away and then sighed, leaning back into his chair, before turning to look at Zinnia and Lothar.

It was still rather recent that he also bore the title of an initiate, but his 'graduation' had come and gone. It was for this reason that he did not necessarily see the initiates as so below him because he still remembered when he had been there. Maybe that was why he kept getting assigned to these supervisory roles.

"Well, we may have just been granted a boon. The man did not look like someone who was bringing good news. Either he has brought information for our mission, or we have a new problem."

He looked down at his bowl wishing he had a little bit more, but decided to settle on the ale in his mug. He had been given reports on the initiates with him, but they were left fairly vague. They were more simple notes that proctors had made on each of them. Kristen's report remained unopened as he knew plenty about her. Besides, it was better to make his own determinations about people.

"So, I am interested to hear your thoughts on this mission." He questioned both of them.

Zinnia Lothar Kristen Pirian

 

[Lothar]

Lothar only glanced towards the Noble that entered, keeping his expression blank as he idly played with the bandage covering his arm.

His gaze flickered back towards Alistair, the only full Dreadlord among them. Lips pressed into a thin line as the man asked for their opinion on the task at hand, and something within the back of his mind immediately told him it was some sort of trap.

The Initiate didn't know much, well really anything at all about Alistair, despite only being a year behind him. But he did know Dreadlords, and most he had worked with weren't really interested in hearing opinions. Even if Alistair actually did, a lifetime of learned behavior slipped onto Lothar's tongue. "A mission is a mission."

He volunteered first.

"It's not as bad as some." Lothar contended honestly, knowing that at least was easy to admit. "We're not sleeping in the dirt, that's good, but it is starting to feel like we're chasing shadows."

It was all true, though he admitted none of his true frustration. Ever since unlocking aspects of his stolen magics Lothar found himself wanting more dangerous missions. They most often presented opportunities for new magics, and so far this one had...well, nothing.

 

[Zinnia]

Another Pirian entered, then both left. Zinnia sank her over-long canines into the next bite of veal and shivered, all but having to suppress a satisfied groan. This meal pretty much made up for the displeasure of having to be here, she decided.

"So, I am interested to hear your thoughts on this mission."

The question made the gold-eyed girl sit up straight in her seat, snapping her out of her savory stupor. She wiped her face with her sleeve and swallowed the mouth full of veal she'd been chewing on before hazarding an answer.

"It's...um...f-fine? I d-don't really see the point yet, but b-boring errands in backwater towns seems pretty p-par for the course for initiates l-like us," Zinnia replied before realizing that her words could be misconstrued as disrespectful. An immediate recovery was necessary. "C-could be worse!"

...Nailed it.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

One of Redoran's servants opened the carriage door for them. Kristen and Redoran each took their seats inside, and the door was shut afterward.

Redoran took a handkerchief out from his pocket. "It hasn't been that many years, has it? Kress, you've grown."

He didn't mean any to cause any vexation by it, but Kristen, as was her perennial insecurity, felt a bit anxious about it. She was made intensely aware of the carriage's ceiling because of it. Nevertheless, she pushed past it. Goodness, how long had it been? Two, maybe three years before she enrolled into the Academy since she had last seen her elder cousin Redoran. Certainly before her growth spurt.

"Are you feeling well?" she asked, making special mention of his reddened eyes.

Redoran readily dismissed her concern, dabbing at his eyes with the handkerchief. "Ah, it's this summer air. It's never been good for me. All the sniffling and sneezing. Quite the little, buzzing torment."

Kristen just nodded. "So, you wished to speak to me?"

"You're engaged in a fool's errand, Kristen."

So stunned by the abruptness, the forwardness of this comment, Kristen sat there, mouth threatening to go agape, brows already on the upward march, unable to make a reply. Then at last she said, "What do you mean?"

"Come now, you know what I mean. This mission of Neil's that you're on. I understand that he's your father. I understand your devotion to House Pirian—admirable, admirable, admirable indeed. I understand all of that, Kristen. But...this will only lead to further embarrassment. And after what happened in Vel Numera, do we really need any more of that?"

Vel Numera. The Forsaken attack. Certainly it could have been much worse (though the slaying of Fyris Pirian was too much in and of itself), but timely interventions saw the Forsaken repulsed. Kristen didn't know what the other Great Houses thought about the attack, but Redoran was clearly under the impression that they thought ill of House Pirian for it.

"Redoran...you must understand, as well then, that I am a Dreadlord Initiate. This is the mission that has been assigned to me, and I must see to it that—"

"I know, I know. And I only say this because you are family, Kristen, and because I, too, care deeply for House Pirian. But, hear me, you are chasing shadows. Strange noises in the night. Ghosts and phantoms spawned from one's imagination. The country is replete with these things, and replete as well with folk all too superstitious and overwrought enough to take fright from them. How many different stories have you heard so far? Hmm?"

Kristen's lips bunched up in minor frustration. She exhaled, long and slow from her nose, and said, "So what are you saying? That I should simply quit?"

"Before you get to Fort Velkath and truly make a mockery of the Pirian name, yes. After Vel Numera, that's the last thing we need, for the rest of the nobility to think us also overwrought, jumping at shadows, traumatized so by a bunch of half-breeds." Redoran glanced at her earnestly. "I can't make you quit. But I can give you my counsel, and now it's given. I hope, for the good of House Pirian, you heed it well."

Kristen looked to her elder cousin with a touch of dismay, a touch of pity, and a greater touch of worry. But there was something that trumped all of that. Something stronger.

She gave him her answer.

Alistair Krixus Lothar Zinnia

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair looked between the two of them with a straight face, not revealing his own thoughts. For starters, he should have been more clear with the question. He did not care if they were enjoying the mission, when did initiates ever get to enjoy missions? He wanted their tactical opinion on the matter.

Maybe they were just nervous, but the new Dreadlords the Republic needed would need to be able to think and adapt. In the end, he had gotten one piece of information out of them. They were worried about their lack of strong evidence either.

Still, he nodded along with both of their thoughts.

"I agree, but hopefully some of the rumors can give us even the smallest of hints, as Lothar suggested. However, even if we do find portions of this group. I fear that the ghost-like nature of this group will make it hard to wipe them all out."

Lothar Zinnia

 

[Lothar]

That was the trouble with chasing rumors, in the end you didn't even really know what you were looking for. At the end of the day the orders they had were simply too vague.

'There is a problem, go find the problem.'

Other than that, at least from what Lothar could tell, they didn't really have much else to go on. Sure they could chase after the rumors they collected, but they needed something more concrete. Something that might offer any hint of…well, anything at all that would be solid. Unfortunately, as much as he might have liked, Lothar didn't really know much that would help.

Though he now ached for missions that were a bit more substantial, most of his time before the revolution had been spent doing escorts and delivery runs. Simple things were there wasn't much thought or planning required.

So the one suggestion he had, really was the only one that he had. "I guess if we don't find anything the Guard will just deal with it later."

He offered, though he doubted the words would be much solace for someone like Kristen. Unlike her though, none of them really had personal stakes in this.

Well, mostly. Not that Lothar would know.

 

[Zinnia]

Zinnia chewed her bottom lip, her eyes looking over her plate as though the remains of her meal would somehow reveal the answer. It wasn't like Zinnia wanted the mission to fail, per se. It's just that it mostly felt like a fruitless endeavor.
"I...I r-really don't know where to go from here. B-back when Aelita and I sussed out that v-vampire woman back in Vel Anir, or when C-Caeso, Lumen, and I investigated Pernach, we had...well, l-leads, you know?"

The same was true of her exploration near the Falwood with Silas and Vasha, though the culprit ultimately outed himself in that ordeal. Zinnia did seem to have a knack for investigation, or at least she was a magnet for mystery. Perhaps that was why Proctor Snicket sought her out for this mission, a bit of experience already on hand. That or he thought she'd make a good mascot for an otherwise humdrum group, like she was some kind of...talking dog, or something...

"This is Kristen's sh-show, so I'll d-do what she says...but it f-feels like we're grasping at st-straws, and I don't have a s-solid answer for you, Alistair."

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Not too long after Kristen had departed, she returned. Upon her face was expression clearly troubled, and she looked more at her feet than at the group as she approached her seat at the table again. But she did not sit. Instead she gripped the back of the chair, measured her words for a moment, exhaled unsteadiness through her nose and summoned resolve in its place, and said:

"My cousin Redoran Pirian, whose chief concern was sparing us embarrassment, advised that we quit our mission before we journey to Fort Velkath."

She looked to each of them in their turn.

"I told him we would not do that."

This was it, then. Commitment to the path they were on, no matter the doubt assailing them from a week's worth of searching and finding nothing.

"I believe, if we must err, that it be on the side of caution and prudence. If the vigilance of the Fort Velkath's garrisoning Guardsmen yields no substantial tale for us to pursue, if they chide us for undue alarm, then let us take on that embarrassment rather than, through negligence and aversion, allow what malevolence there is to predate upon this countryside."

Alistair Krixus Lothar Zinnia

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Still not exactly what he was looking for, but at least Zinnia was explaining herself more, even if she still had that stuttering problem. He would have continued to break down the problem further, only to see Kristen returning.

What she brought back was not what he was hoping for. So even members of her own family thought this was hopeless. He had been hoping that the relative would bring needed information, not simply a request.

"That goes without saying. Dreadlords do not simply stop halfway because of reputation."

Alistair could understand ending the mission when it was decided they had hit a dead end, but speaking with the guards at Velkath seemed like the minimum that they could do. Why on earth would they stop before then?

"Once we get whatever information that we can from Velkath, then we can make the best decision possible for this assignment."

He looked Kristen in the eyes with unsaid meaning.

Even if that means abandoning this venture.

Kristen Pirian Lothar Zinnia

 

[Lothar]

It seemed that despite everything they would be continuing on.

Some small part of him, perhaps what has been instilled with his newfound magic, wanted to object. Say that simply put, this venture was a waste of time and resources. Unfortunately, a sense of strange contentment kept his tongue from waggling.

Perhaps this mission wasn't one for him to gather more eyes, perhaps he wouldn't cut another of the throats he so desperately wished to cut. But Alistair, Kristen, and Zinnia were largely kind. None of them were unreasonable, and the comfort they'd maintained on this mission so far was better than what they could have hoped for on many others.

Despite his ambitions, Lothar knew he couldn't really complain.

As far as assignments went, this wasn't a bad one.

"Sure." Lothar agreed with a nod. If Kristen wanted to keep going, at least to the fort, then they would keep going. Though, he did have a question. "Why does your cousin want us to stop?"

He asked. "Wouldn't us patrolling look…good?"

Keeping the territory safe and all that.

 

[Zinnia]

Duty came first. Always. That Kristen understood that, despite her relative's misgivings, gave Zinnia pause. Maybe...maybe she'd been too quick to judge the Pirian girl.

Not to mention, Lothar had a point. If House Pirian was smart, they could spin this to their favor.

"Then l-let's continue on, then! We're just doing our d-due diligence, right?"

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Aionus bless Alistair; he was always so understanding. Zinnia, too, was supportive despite her earlier apprehension, thank goodness.

Lothar had a fair point, and Kristen gestured to him with inviting open palms, practically shouting Yes, exactly!

"And so you and I are in concordance, Lothar. To give peace of mind to Selmack and every other village between Vel Lameus, Vel Stratholm, and Vel Numera, to ensure that our very own Anirian lands are secure, surely this is commendable, a task worthy of our time, even if we, in stark fact, 'find nothing' in the end."

Kristen pursed her lips briefly.

"But we are not performing this duty in the absence of intruding circumstances. Vel Numera, a prominent holding of House Pirian's, was recently attacked; it could have been a complete catastrophe if not for some fortuitous interventions. My cousin Redoran's fear is that it shall appear as though we Pirians are 'jumping at shadows' if this obscure mission produces no firm results. That it will make us look irrational. Incompetent."

She pursed her lips again.

"Weak."

Alistair Krixus Lothar Zinnia

 

[Zinnia]

"Th-that's...silly. Would it n-not be way worse for your House to j-just let the reports lie and d-do nothing? At the very least we're giving the townsfolk a reason to f-feel secure. How would that make House P-Pirian look 'weak?'"

 

[Kristen Pirian]

Like Lothar's comment, it was as though Zinnia were putting to words all the swirling sentiments in Kristen's heart. Redoran...surely he meant well, thinking of the welfare of House Pirian, but his concerns were in her opinion ill-formed.

"Hence why I told my cousin that we would pursue with due diligence our task. It is not my intent to insinuate ill feeling against him, but...I think that it is he, with no small irony, who is the one 'jumping at shadows', fearing some specter of embarrassment where there is none."

Kristen found that this talk was quite good for shoring up her resolve, tested as it was during the listless week of finding nothing to substantiate their mission. She felt more invigorated now, certain that though the path and its trek had been long, they would surely be closing in on the source of all this anxiety about "dark magic."

She smiled, feeling confident.

"Come the morrow, we shall put these worrisome rumors all to rest."

Alistair Krixus Lothar Zinnia

 

[Lothar]

Lothar considered Kristen’s words, frowning for a brief moment as he wondered about all the small obligations and worries the Nobility had to deal with.

Every Initiate at one time or another, he imagined, fantasized about being a part of the Nobility. Probably every Peasant Anirian had. For Lothar the fantasy had never quite managed to stick, and the more he learned the more it slipped away each time.

What he wanted could not be bought.

It had to be earned.

”Sounds good to me.” He commented, taking the last draught of his drink before leaning back in his chair.

When morning did finally come, Lothar wasn’t the first to arrive down in the stables, but he was close to it. He offered a quick word of greeting to his already waiting companion, then began to saddle his horse and stow away his things. He imagined Kristen would want to get going soon, eager to lay this all to bed.

 

[Kristen Pirian]

TWO DAYS PRIOR
FORT VELKATH​

The ride to Fort Velkath saw them into the afternoon, but still there would be time for plenty of questioning, maybe even the chance to follow any solid leads should there be any. The heat of the day was much lessened by the blanket of clouds which had rolled over the sky, casting all above in delicate whites and rough grays and erasing shadows from the ground.

Like all Anirian fortresses, Fort Velkath was solidly built and imposing even from a distance. Certainly there were larger and even more impressive forts, keeps, and castles throughout the whole of the Republic, but Fort Velkath did not want for stature. The legion of Guardsmen inside would be well-protected, well-provisioned, well-housed.

Or perhaps...they would have been.

As they approached, Kristen didn't notice anyone at the parapets, the battlements, the arrow slits. No movement could be seen from afar. Which was odd, but not immediately alarming. Drawing closer though, still there was no movement, no sentries by chance patrolling into view or revealing themselves from obscuring vantages to get a better look at the approaching riders.

The gates, as they all could now clearly see, were left open.

"This..." Kristen said as she brought her horse to a brief stop before wide open gates, glancing with mounting concern to her companions, "...should not be."

Indeed, dead silence pervaded the whole of Fort Velkath. It was as if the entire unit of Guardsmen had simply dropped everything and abandoned the fortress altogether.

Alistair Krixus Lothar Zinnia