Dreadlords To the Ends of the Earth

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Edric

The Warrior
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Edric rolled a shrug over his shoulder one last time, and then followed his fellow Initiates out the door.

It didn't much matter to him what the King did or didn't get book. Whether bauble or book, as long as the man pointed them in the right direction none of it would really matter all that much to him.

The four of them, Herald included, began their march across the city curtly. Their local guide chose none of the roads Edric would have expected, but instead moved them through smaller back alleyways and darker streets, explaining that none of them should be seen in public until they arrived at the Palace. A directive that Edric found odd, but he didn't argue.

After nearly thirty minutes of walking, the small group arrived at their destination.

Where they found themselves, Edric noted, was almost directly opposite the Palace he had followed their query to. A third such spire raising in the distance more towards the north of town. He noted that somewhere in his mind, though drew his focus to the front gates.

Two massive ogres in overlapping black armor stood at the post of each gate, between them lay open doors, and a squad of smaller soldiers wearing similar versions of smaller armor. A small line formed at the entrance as the Guards checked nearly everyone, and a perimeter was formed around the whole street by other men and women of the Death Watch. "They're pretty good."

Edric noted as they came upon the street, watching from the dark alley before the group stepped out into full view. Nudging Ralene in her side as he pointed to the roof tops.

"Even covering." He said, gesturing to the crossbowmen that lined the roof tops.

The Herald frowned, looking at the three of them.

"You don't plan on causing any...trouble, do you?"​

Edric looked at the man before responding dryly. "Just professional appreciation."
 
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Ralene

Magic Battering Ram
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Had to trust in their guide to get there where they needed to be, and while Ralene's instinctual inclination was to not trust a stranger - he was being paid very handsomely for his time and effort. Hopefully it was enough for him to follow through on his end. Upon finding themselves outside one of many palaces to queue up, her eyes followed a similar pattern as Edric's. Couldn't be helped, these were the things they were taught to do for the last decade+ of their lives.

Ogres. Soldiers. Roofto- she blinked at the nudge and was about to respond when the Herald cut her off with his suspicions. Surprisingly, Ed actually handled it with tact.

"I like crossbows," she added to Ed's remark, "have a custom one back home that I built myself. Would love to get a closer look at a Tyr-made."

"I'm afraid that's not a likely possibility," the Herald replied.

"Yeah yeah," Ral nodded with a roll of her eyes, "no weapons for foreigners."

"Now when we get to the gates the guards will check you for weapons and contraband while I present your invitation. It is imperative that you let the guards do their job. Any fuss and they'll send your party straight to a detention center... which includes me, and speaking from personal experience it's not a place you want to be."
 
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Alistair Krixus

The Rune Knight
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Alistair rolled his eyes at the two with a light smirk threatening the edges of his mouth. No matter the situation, those two would always appreciate the important things in life. After all, what was more important than potentially getting a crossbow bolt through the skull?

He had to agree with Edric though. Perfect spacing, each individual closely watching his assigned sector, good equipment, and the way they held those crossbows indicating a familiarity to them...It would be best not to start any fights.

Speaking of which, did he have to worry about the others starting fights if they got searched...Probably not, they were all professionals here.

"You can tell they are well made, even from here. Not custom, they look nearly identical, but that just means they are efficient...Don't worry my friend. We are actually some of the most politically savvy members of our Republic."


It was always difficult to tell when Alistair was sarcastic, especially when he started talking in his even-toned, professional voice.

Edric Ralene
 
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Edric

The Warrior
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A guffaw escaped Edric before he could stifle it, his head shaking as Alistair called them 'politically savvy'.

He wondered if that was going to be the biggest lie they told tonight.

Before long the group broke into the line at the door, and soon after that the trio found themselves at the gate. The gate guard, an Ogre, towered over the lot of them. His lacquered black and green armor giving off a quiet sheen in the light of the nearby magma river. "Invitation, please."

The thing grunted, It's voice sounding like a falling mountain. Eyes flickering to look at Ralene and Edric specifically, though clearly noting Alistair and the Herald as well.

It was the latter that stepped forward, producing the invitation and waving it in the gate Guard's face. "Here! My good man. Lord Alistair Krixus of Vel Anir! They've come a very far way indeed to be here for just this evening."

The Guard looked down at the invitation, and then studied each one of the party members before him.

"Anirian, huh? Heard you lot got quite the killers." The Ogre grunted, looking at them wearily.

"We're just here for protection." Edric was the one to pipe up surprisingly, attempting to look as disinterested in the whole process as possible. He had seen enough mercenaries to know that selling the look was important.

"Fair enough." The Ogre grumbled. "Sergeant, pat them down and take their weapons. You'll get them back upon exit."

A small goblin stepped out from behind the Ogre, his armor no less filled with splendor as his much taller cousin. He motioned respectfully to the Anirians, and then set about relieving them of their weapons.

The whole process was clearly the reason for the line, but once again Edric found himself somewhat impressed by the order of it all.
 
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Ralene

Magic Battering Ram
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That guffaw earned Edric a side-eye from Ralene. She'd spent plenty of time around him and she was pretty fucking sure that is the first time she'd ever heard that sound come out of his mouth. Weird, but also kind of cute. Ral smirked.

With a sigh, she watched on boredly while the Guards followed procedure to the letter. Well, at least she could respect them for that. Ral was a fan of policy and procedure and these guys had theirs down pat.

Speaking of patting - her gaze drifted down to the goblin as he moved from Alistair to Edric and then to herself, running his gnarled hands over every inch. His fingers hooked around Ral's ass and she shot him a look.

"Find something you like down there?"

The goblin frowned as he plied a dagger hidden in a sheath at her lower back beneath her cape, "Indeed I have," and then showed it to her.

"Shit," Ral shrugged innocently, "forgot about that one."

This earned her a suspicious leer from the ogre guard.

"They're clear," said the goblin, tucking the dagger away into a bin, "you can get your dagger back upon your departure." He waved them in.

The Herald had watched this with an intensely concerned gaze, then released the breath he'd been holding as they gained passage in, "Right this way, Lord Krixus."

With a sniff, Ral glanced at Ed and followed her Lord in line to the temple entrance.
 
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Alistair Krixus

The Rune Knight
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Alistair let the procedures proceed without protest. They had been told about such protocol earlier, so Al had been sure to have a dagger at his waist in an ostentatious sheath to make a show of allowing them to take it from him. It was meant to be a showing of acknowledging their authority.

Such antics had worked in past missions, but Alistair was now sure that such symbolism would not matter to the guards. They had found a weapon and it would be removed. These guards were efficient, with no need for frivolities, which Alistair greatly respected.

He offered a nod in thanks to the guards before moving forward with the herald. Alistair walked by his side, not behind him, that would not do for a noble. He had to be at the front.

It was time to go to work, so Alistair straightened even more than he already stood as he put out a noble and domineering aura.

Edric Ralene
 
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Edric

The Warrior
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Small formality over, the four quickly went into the Palace proper.

It was an utterly fascinating thing, built of a dark black stone and composing of a singular tower with a massive base. It crawled up into the sky, burning red lines of magma criss-crossing a carefully lain out garden that was clearly decorated with the local flaura. Plants who not only survived in the constant volcanic heat, but thrived.

Oddly colored vines clung to carefully staged arches, leaves and flowers bloomed. It was an oddly gothic display of life, and yet Edric could clearly tell that all of it was in fact alive. Not just set pieces crafted by some artist, but a living memorial to the King who lived here.

The splendor was no less on the inside of the tower.

No gold hung on the walls or gilded any chairs, but tapestries, statues, and paintings hung or stood almost everywhere. Beautiful works of art openly on display. The floor a polished black marble that sparked in contrast to the bright carpets which sometimes lay over it.

Music sailed through the main entrance as the three Anirians and their herald stepped inside. Greeted with the sight of a massive main chamber, at the other end of it standing a huge dais with a throne upon it. The hall itself currently filled to the brim with people of all sorts. Near everyone dressed in noble and high fashions.

Those that weren't walked around the perimeter of the room, clearly watchful. Guards, Edric assumed, though a few men wearing the armor of the Death Watch were partaking in conversations within the hall.

"My goodness." The Herald breathed. "It seems nearly everyone is here...Although I don't see the King."

No announcement was made as they entered the Palace's main hall, though from what the Herald had said that was normal. "Look, there, that's Mother Yurel. An Elder Witch of the Blood."

Edric frowned slightly, finding the title somewhat...off-putting. Though he noted that the woman which the Herald pointed at could hardly be called an 'elder'. She appeared no older than thirty, despite the extremely ashen complexion of her skin.

"And that's Lord Treek." He was now pointing at a small goblin with dark green skin, clothes decorated with impressively intricate bands of metal wrapped all around. "He owns half the forges in Tyr."

Edric's eyes followed where the man was pointing to, nodding his head in understanding before slowly surveying the rest of the crowd. Eventually his gaze fell on one of the Ogre's, though unlike the others he had seen the creature was not dressed in the armor of the Death Watch. Instead he wore fine black robes, one arm covered in a heavy steel gauntlet which gleamed in the light.

A frown touched the young Initiate's face, and he nudged he Herald. The man turned his head, and then beamed. "Ah yes! As I said. That is Seneschall Salokan. I did not think he would be the one to attend, but I suppose it makes sense. His son was well devoted to Prince Talmanese"
 

Ralene

Magic Battering Ram
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It was grand, opulent, decadent, refined, cultured, and an ongoing list of all the things Ralene was not. She'd not been harrangued into attending balls or high-brow social functions for missions before like Ed had and despite her own noble blood the closest she'd ever come to anything of this nature was that tea party in Vel Anir. Her mind briefly flickered to the many lofty ladies in attendance that day. Elise Virak among them, and she wondered how much more easily they might've swam in these waters.

Elegant fish cutting through the currents ... a shark, perhaps, for Lady Virak. Herself? Well...

"Forges?" Ralene perked a brow at this as she followed the Herald's gesture toward the goblin, "now there's a goblin I'd like to speak with."

Then that name came up again. Seneschall. She frowned and looked to Ed and Al, "Why is that name so familiar?" She couldn't place it, so maybe it didn't really matter. "If he is, as you say, a devotee tied to this King through his son, perhaps he would be a good place to start shmoozing..." her gaze landed on Al, "my Lord."
 
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Alistair Krixus

The Rune Knight
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As soon as Alistair and the others entered the palace, a faraway look appeared in his eyes as he looked over everything. The place was magnificent. Personally, far more aesthetically pleasing than the halls of Vel Anir. It still held the same regality but without all the ostentatious of many places in Vel Anir that just through gold at the walls.

The others would not that was the look of Alistair when he tried to remember and categorize every bit of information he was seeing, so he would not forget it. He may have stayed like that for minutes if not being pulled away when the Herald began speaking of people of import.

All three of the names mentioned seemed to have their own different air of importance. He had an interest in speaking with the Elder Witch of Blood. He had not got much of a chance to research the magics of Tyr and this seemed like the perfect chance.

Unfortunately, Ralene was right.

Alistair sighed as he turned back to look at the Seneschal. The man was intimidating, to say the least.

"Great, we could have spoken with the pretty witch or the short goblin crafter, but nooo. Let's go speak with the large man and his metal gauntlet."

Alistair and the others both knew he had already committed to going, this was just his way of complaining so that he could relax a little bit. He turned his attention to the Herald and nodded.

"Let's go introduce ourselves."

Alistair firmly moved through the crowd with grace and confidence, once more slipping back into his noble demeanor. He knew Ralene and Edric would be behind him, or take up positions on the outside where they could keep an eye on him. Let's hope the Herald was good at his job.

Edric Ralene
 
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Edric

The Warrior
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Before they moved, The Herald offered a quick point of order. Whispering to the three. "The King is not fond of his son, Prince Talmanese was exiled. The Seneschall's own son followed him into the west, a decision which was greatly respected."

Edric frowned, not quite understanding how that was a good thing. Exiles were...exiles, following them was not a point of pride. The Herald clearly picked up on this.

"Duty and ones word means everything to the Og'Adre." The local tongue for Ogres, it could be assumed. "I would suggest you tie this to your approach."

A shrug rolled over Edric's shoulders. "Never heard it before, before coming here anyway."

It was an odd title, Seneschall, but not more odd than any dozen he had heard one some of his missions. The head of the Empire had some silly name for himself that had been mentioned once or twice while in the desert. "Maybe you read about it in a book."

He suggested to Ralene before offering another shrug and letting out a slight chuckle at Alistair's words.

"Can you call and Ogre a man?" He asked the Herald, wondering if such a thing would be found offensive. "I mean the guy towers over u-

"Quiet." The Herald warned softly, taking half a step closer to Edric. "Disrespect will not be tolerated here, watch your words."

It was clear by the way the man spoke that some touch of genuine fear interwove with his warning, and Edric frowned slightly. His head tipped in a nod, though Ralene would be able to tell the rebuke annoyed him.

Without another word he followed after Alistair, moving behind his Lord at a good distance like any Guard might. Keeping pace, but lurking behind him. A skill that he had mastered through years of various missions and assignments. Ralene, he knew, would do the same.

Eventually, Alistair and The Herald reached the Seneschall. The latter bowing deep before the massive Ogre as he began to speak. "My Lord Salokan, may we take a moment of your time. I wish to introduce you to a Lord of the West, from Vel Anir."

The Ogre, looked down at the two humans that had approached them. His massive eyes peering down as a smile tugged at his lips.

"Vel Anir?" As the Seneschall spoke, his voice sounded like rumbling thunder. Not any louder than the Herald had been, but deep and thrumming like rocks falling down a mountainside. "The City of the Dreadlords? Such reputation reaches even our shores. I would be happy for the conversation."

Almost with a breath of relief, the Herald half turned, opening a space between Alistair and the Ogre. "Then may I introduce Lord Alistair, of House Krixus."