Dreadlords Traces of Death

[Perla Irven]

The Academy Laboratory, Vel Anir

A mission had been recently assigned to a certain set of students. In the countryside of Vel Anir, there were two deaths both caused by a peculiar unknown disease. Both victims were decent soldiers of the military and the deaths were suspected to have been caused by magic. Without proof of magic, nobody would be allowed to investigate further. Fortunately there was a student who could be assigned to this mission and give that needed evidence. The problem? Actually getting her out of The Academy's Laboratory and to the village, where both deaths occurred, safely. They would be under the guise of getting some rare ingredients for the alchemists to avoid suspicion.
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Perla had been alerted of this mission at some point but her brain only had room for magical information and she had completely forgotten about it. Instead of assembling in the main hall like she was supposed to, she was busily fixing an enchantment for a pair of pants. The pants were supposed to be fire resistant but some idiot had gotten grape juice on it. Even though she left a list of instructions of what to avoid. Now she had to enchant them all over again after removing the stain.

The trousers were placed in the middle of a circle drawn out in chalk and surrounded by a variation of runes meant to represent the element of fire. Red Jasper gemstones were placed around the circle while a mixture of dried rue and salt was placed in a bowl at the very center of the circle, right on top of the pants. Perla sat at the front of the circle and placed her hands over the pants, but never touching them. She began muttering a series of chants, specifically designed for this one ritual. Everything in the magical circle began to glow brightly as the runes slowly faded away. Once every rune had vanished, Perla stopped with her chanting and plucked the pants from the ground. She tossed them into a crate labeled "Finished" and moved on to her next task.

There was a list of potions she had to finish by the end of the day pinned up on the wall along with hundreds of other lists. One of the new missions for the Dreadlords involved sneaking around some rivers and they would probably need some water breathing potions. Feeling a bit of exhaustion creeping in, Perla snatched vial of energy elixir and chugged it. She tossed the vial aside to be cleaned later and pulled on some gloves. There was a table with burners, tubes, beakers, bottles, a decanter, a mortar and pestle, and many other instruments of the trade. She pulled out a bag of dried gillweed, a bottle of preserved fish eggs and some cucumber skin.

Her entire world circled around this one potion. Even if somebody entered the room, she wouldn't notice right away. She had already begun the process of boiling water and dumped the gillweed into the mortar to crush it. If the herb wasn't crushed, the breakdown of its contents would take longer. As she carefully crushed the herb, her mind wandered to the selection of items she had already finished that morning. Some careless Dreadlord had broken their wand while another needed another sleeping pill to deal with insomnia. Somebody got seriously hurt during training and required a healing potion. There were the new tomes to update and the crystals she used for enchantments needed to get recharged.

The dark bags under her eyes were a sign of her lack of sleep but as long as she had vials of the energy elixir, she would function just fine. It wasn't incorrect to say she was growing an addiction but Perla didn't truly care enough to stop. She was off in her own little world, working away at the alchemist station and completely forgetting about the new mission.

 

[Caeso Diemut]

Weston was a reliable figure. Among Initiates, he was levelheaded and cool in his reception of most everything—even, back in the old way, taking his prodding and his tortures in a smooth silence. To Caeso he wasn't gratingly upbeat or cheery, and though his lukewarm demeanor, the little ghosts of smirks that often crossed his expression, could be deceiving, he took everything quite seriously.

So when by chance they found themselves walking together across the Academy courtyard, sharing what missions they each had received today, Caeso took Weston's reaction to heart.

"Hm. With Perla, huh," said Weston, adjusting his hat. "You know about Tinker, right?"

Caeso huffed through his nose. "I am aware. The 'upper classman' who was the shut-in inside the workshop, he of the claw mark scars on his face and the...disagreeable aura, to be as charitable as possible. You don't mean to say...?"

"Yeah. Perla's like that."

"Kress." Caeso rubbed at his brow. "That must be why I was instructed to retrieve her from the Laboratory."

"Seems so." Weston made to part ways, and he tossed up a nonchalant hand in farewell. "Good luck with that."

Caeso smirked, and in jest he called after Weston, "Are you sure that I cannot persuade you to switch missions?"

Weston without looking back called in return, "Would that we could."

* * * * *​

Caeso had some time during his walk to the Academy Laboratory to cast off his more pessismistic thoughts. Weston likened Perla to Tinker, but mayhap the similiarities were merely superficial? Yes, Weston was reliable, but he as well had not been on a mission with Perla before. The closest either of them had been were sharing a few classes and partaking of some of her potions whenever such was required.

There were degrees to everything. Likely it was that while both Tinker and Perla were obsessive in their respective crafts (workaholics, to use a crude vernacular term), Tinker was on the more extreme end. Until proven otherwise, Caeso would give Perla the benefit of the doubt. She, he would trust, would have the wherewithal to see to her basic needs at least. Surely.

Caeso reached the Laboratory door. He pushed it open and stepped inside.

A rotund room, replete with an array of rare reagents. A menagerie of glass and shelving and tables, all things within or upon of a sort that might make an experienced alchemist salivate but astound the normal man who made his livelihood tilling some field.

And there was Perla, her back to him, the swing and tired old groan of the heavy door apparently not catching her attention. Here was the Initiate whose presence was central to the mission, the nexus around which the others would revolve, she the alchemist and they the bodyguards. There would, at least, be little for onlooking eyes to doubt, Perla fitting her role as naturally as Caeso and the others would fit theirs.

Caeso walked to the center of the circular room. His heavy footfalls still had not garnered her attention. She was over there at her table, crushing some herbs.

Caeso cleared his throat. Said a bit louder than normal, "Perla."

Perla Irven

 

[Perla Irven]

At the sound of her name, Perla didn't look up or even seem to care much. She just assumed he was here for pickup for one of the pieces of equipment or there to register for something. Perla quickly poured the crushed gillweed into a bowl then focused on the next steps involving the fish eggs.

"Equipment's in the crate. If you take something that isn't yours, then your teeth will fall out by next morning." She stated, "If you want to register for an item or potion, then sign up over there and put a description of what you need."

The teeth falling out was a bold face lie but most people didn't need to know that. Perla pointed to a long list hung up on the wall by some nails. This particular wall was covered in recipes, reminders, and personal notes for the alchemists. Soon the mixture with the fish eggs and crushed dillweed were being distilled and she began chopping up the cucumber skin. To her surprise, the dread lord didn't leave. Wondering why he was still here, she tried to think of anything recent or important that happened.

"If you're here about the Lightning Sword incident, I told that idiot not to fight in water with it." She explained quickly as she continued to chop even faster, "I even wrote it down so he wouldn't forget. If a moron cannot read instructions then anything that happened to him is NOT my fault."

She finished chopping and dumped the skins into a vial. Taking out the distilled liquid, she poured it into a potion bottle and dumped the skins in. She shook it around violently for a few seconds then had a look at the bottle. The skins had evaporated due to the gillweed's slightly acidic nature and would change the effects from the eggs to be gentler. Without that final ingredient, the drinker could end up turning into a fish instead of breathing like one. She finally turned around and looked towards Caeso.

Caeso Diemut

 

[Caeso Diemut]

Caeso gave a perfunctory glance toward the crate, then back to her. She hadn't turned around. He severely doubted she would recognize him by voice, so it led him to wonder: did she just feel comfortable acting in so detached a manner when she wasn't even sure with whom she was speaking? Had a Proctor come in here and received such a welcome, Perla would have been thrown to the floor and kicked in the ribs until she addressed him properly. And that was relatively light treatment.

Perhaps, like everything wrong with the Academy these days, it was the Revolution which had inspired such misguided confidence in her.

She busied herself with her alchemical work and brought up the "Lightning Sword" incident. Carter, noted moron and one of Flavien's lackeys, thought such a sword would complement his static field magic well for some mission or another...and he ended up with an extended stay in the infirmary. He had to shave his head bald because of the amount of hair that was fried in the incident.

Perla, at last, turned around.

"Here for neither," Caeso said of the equipment crate and the Lightning Sword incident. "I am, in fact, here for you."

A brief flick of his eyes down Perla's slight form. Not the most outwardly intimidating of Initiates, was she? Seemed a stiff wind might be her worst foe—let alone elves—were it not for all those robes anchoring her down. Still, size did not count for much among Dreadlords. Fennec remained one of the smallest and one of the deadliest.

Given Perla's nature, Caeso was suddenly uncertain as to whether or not she knew why he was here. "Perla, you have been told what it is that we will be engaged in today, yes?"

Perla Irven

 

[Perla Irven]

Perla's eyes widened in realization as she remembered the mission. She placed the finished potion in the crate. Then the young woman dashed towards a locked cabinet, fumbling with the keys for a moment, then took out some potions, a quiver of strange arrows, and a simple bow. The arrows were thin and had a branch like appearance with a sharp tip at the end.

Instead of using metal, it seemed to be made entirely of wood. Rushing over to a chest, she threw it open and snatched a pack already filled with an assortment of items. She put on a belt with pouches along the leather and began putting an assortment of potions in each one. Her speed was fast and she almost resembled a rat searching for food with her rushing back and forth. Once she was done, she dashed over to Caeso.

"Sorry... Been a while since I've had a mission." She explained.

Even with her classes, she usually spent her time in the laboratory, making up whatever items either students or Proctors requested. Though, usually proctors sent somebody and rarely entered the laboratory themselves. But now she would end up going on a mission. She would have to talk to people. Deal with people. The benefit was the chance to experiment with some of her creations, should they run into trouble. She looked towards Caeso's weapons, wondering if he would allow her to experiment on them with her enchantments after the mission.

"....We'd better report to the proctor first." Perla suggested.

She knew running off on the mission without reporting in first would earn them a day in the sweatbox after the mission was done. After reporting in, they would have to find a discreet way to travel to the countryside. The village they were heading too was medium sized with multiple travelers running through it. Their presence wouldn't be noticed too much unless they started causing trouble.

Caeso Diemut

 

[Caeso Diemut]

A good sign, the fact not only that she recognized what he was talking about but more so that she attended to preparations immediately and with haste. The notion had crossed Caeso's mind that he might have to physically drag her out of the workshop—the Proctors reserving this uncouth brute work especially for him. Thankfully, while it might have been the case with other obsessive types, it wasn't so for Perla. Seemed thus far that Weston's wishing of good luck wasn't needed.

He noticed the look toward the twin swords on his back. Whatever she was thinking, all would be well if she stayed focused for the mission ahead.

We'd better report to the proctor first.

"Yes, all in due order," Caeso said. He turned and gave a jerk of his head toward the door, stepping off and out from the workshop.

"A while since your last mission, you say. Well, here you are now, called—in a manner of speaking—to center stage. Around you will our present task revolve."

He glanced over as they walked across the Academy courtyard.

"I trust that this will not pose a problem for you."

There were startling number of Initiates who came to mind, wiry bundles of nervousness all. Zinnia, Callum, Kristen Pirian, infamously enough in that disastrous first year of hers. Hopefully Perla was not also such a one.

Perla Irven

 

[Olvir]

"Thank you, Proctor Ellmir. I know something like this is out of the ordinary." Ollie stood, his back straight and a hand resting on his sword. He wore leather armor, the sigil of his House emblazoned upon the small pauldron on his shoulder.

Features stern, a hint of sadness clinging to his eyes.

"I won't lie, it was difficult, I had to call in more than a few favors, but I served your family for many years. You were good to me...despite it all, and I wouldn't have felt right turning you away."​

Ollie looked at the older man in front of him, smiling ever so slightly. The despair still holding to most of his features as he reached out and clapped the man on the shoulder. "I appreciate it. My cousin was..."

His smile faltered.

"He and I were close." Ollie said, not noticing the two Dreadlord Initiates approaching them. Proctor Ellmir being the man whom they were supposed to report to. "I couldn't stand not knowing what happened to him."

One of the men killed had not just been a Guardsmen, no, his name had been Einhard Solm. Olvir's cousin, and of a minor noble house related to Weiroon.

"I understand, lad. If there's anyone who can find out, it-Ah. Here they are now. Perla! Caeso!"​

The Proctor called, gesturing to the two Initiates.

 

[Perla Irven]

"I'll do my part for the mission." She automatically responded in a dispassionate voice.

Her last mission was before the revolution... before the policy on child kidnappings changed, involved hunting a child. Back then she went on missions whenever signs of a child or even rumors of one with magic popped up. She would be sent out with a small group of Dreadlords to test for magic then collect any children found with it. Even when she was six or even younger, she was to be dragged out to wherever they found a kid and watched them get snatched from their parents and homes. To her, this mission would be a bit easier, even if it was more dangerous.

They walked towards the hall they were supposed to meet up and report to Proctor Ellmir. She gave the dreadlord salute, as expected, and waited for a command. Although she was normally held up in her laboratory, she still knew the proper way to address her higher ups. Her practiced calm expression masked any sign of boredom or irritation from being dragged from her work. She carefully went over the benefits to a mission. Testing out new weapons, studying new areas, and coming up with ideas were things she could do along with the mission itself.

"The village you're heading to is where both deaths occurred. Expect an ambush. Even if it turns out to be a normal death, there are still Dreadlord enemies who may try to get in your way." The Proctor reminded them.

Perla nodded her head, used to older traditions where responding vocally without permission could result in punishment. The proctors who dealt with her were often more traditional and strict, so she just followed what they had taught her. Her hands itched to work with ingredients in the laboratory or to get her hands on an item to enchant. Her mind felt drained as the pleasure of working started to drift away. She hoped they would be sent out right away so she could at least do SOMETHING.

Caeso Diemut, Olvir

 

[Caeso Diemut]

Up to Proctor Ellmir they went, and Caeso saw that the mysterious "third addition" to this mission was now present there with him. He didn't know him, Olvir, by sight, and would only vaguely know him by name, this only by dint of his father Sabian's efforts to keep him fairly informed on noble social matters outside the Academy. Proctor Ellmir had mentioned that the third person on this mission was not an Initiate, a fact somewhat surprising. Presently, this would leave Caeso guessing until proper introductions could be made.

Proctor Ellmir elaborated a little more on the mission, warning of a possible ambush. Seemed the role of bodyguard wouldn't be merely for show.

"Understood," Caeso replied to Ellmir, standing in deferential attention before him.

As he awaited dismissal from the Proctor, the guessing game with reference to Olvir came again. A Guardsman, he would have said, yet he didn't look the part—in fairness, a good number of single year term Guardsmen didn't. He looked more...put together, having the same presence that other noble Initiates displayed (well, not all of them, Ralene came to mind).

He dispensed with the speculation then. Details would be forthcoming.

Perla Irven Olvir

 

[Olvir]

Ollie listened carefully, letting his hand continue to rest on the pommel of his sword. Fingers tightened for a few moment as the Proctor mentioned ambush, though not because of the danger.

He was more than used to such things by now. It was more the thought of what his cousin could have gotten himself into. What fate might have befallen Ein. Lips thinned and he glanced over towards the two Dreadlords. Neither of them were familiar to him, but the bearings in which they carried themselves spoke volumes.

One was slightly slouched, though hardly any worse for it. Still carrying a sense of deadliness.

The other stood straight as a reed, shoulder square and clearly with a mark of confidence that could only come from nobility.

"Good. This is Olvir Weiroon. He will be joining you on this expedition, I suggest you use his resources wisely."​

Ollie turned fully towards the two Initiate's, dipping his head in a nod of greeting.

"You'll find horses at the stables as well as supplies."​

"Thank you, Proctor Ellmir." The Man looked at Ollie for a moment more, and then dipped his head in a nod. The man then glanced at the two Initiates, frowning for just a brief moment before he departed without another word.

 

[Perla Irven]

After receiving permission to leave, Perla head towards the stables to get one of the horses. She had very little interest in conversing with either people and simply wanted to get the mission done as fast as possible so she could get to the rest of her work. She chose the smallest horse to avoid having to climb too much and scrambled her way to its back. Once on the horse, she checked if the others were ready and pushed her horse forwards.

It would take them over half a day's worth of riding to get to the village. When the collection of houses and huts drew closer, Perla was already done with this entire trip. Her back was sore from the constant riding, the horse tried to bite her twice, and she wasn't able to scribble in her notes while on horseback. But she kept her mouth shut, looking at the scenery and hoping she could go find some small room to hide away in once they made it to the village.

A crowd gathered around the entrance of the village caught her attention. They were all crowded around a fallen guard, gasping and murmuring. An expression of fear was on everybody's face and only grew when they spotted the three on their horses. Perla's eyes narrowed as she began to wonder if the villagers somehow knew who they were already.

"It'll be difficult to subtly check for magic with that crowd." Perla muttered quietly to Olvir and Caeso.

Perla Irven Olvir

 

[Caeso Diemut]

Olvir Weiroon was his name.

At first Caeso couldn't fathom just what he was doing here. He had Olvir pegged as being out of his depth, even more so than Perla, for whilst Perla was a singleminded shut-in who by this slim chance of being thrust into a mission had the opportunity to see the sun again, she at least had the blessing of years of Dreadlord conditioning (perhaps the most charitable word for it) under her belt. This nobleman? It seemed to Caeso that he would be best suited elsewhere, using the weight of his cultivated lineage in some grander pursuit.

Caeso's first impressions were off the mark however. During the travel he got to speaking with Olvir, and came to understand why he was here. Einhard Solm was one among the dead, and the minor House of Solm had familial ties to Weiroon. Olvir wasn't out of his depth either, for as he shared, his father Sebastian had fostered his talent for swordsmanship. Good. Quite good. A man, whatever the quality of his blood, ought to be able to defend himself in some decent capacity, else he had no business calling himself a man.

And this, their present task, apparently wasn't the first of these sorts of ventures for Olvir. Born as the youngest son (there was a time when Caeso could definitely relate), Olvir was out to prove himself through. More so than his siblings, he had to earn what he could get, not simply be given it.

So off they rode to one such proving ground. The mystery of the two deaths, of what happened to his cousin Einhard Solm among them, awaiting.

* * * * *​

The village. Mayhap it had a name. If it did, the locals knew it and no one else did, for the village was small and insignificant enough in the larger scheme of Anirian lands that likely mapmakers glossed over it even on small scale maps.

And there was already some commotion at the village periphery.

Caeso glanced over when Perla spoke. He nodded. Said, "Then we shall clear the space." And by we he meant himself and Olvir, the ostensible bodyguards in this charade.

Caeso dismounted and approached the crowd by the fallen guard. "Stand aside," he said, firmly but not bellowing.

"Who are you, then?" said one of the men of the crowd, slightly indignant that a stranger was telling them what to do.

"Can you help this man?" He pointed down to the guard. "Or can you merely gawk? Make way for someone who can render aid."

Perla Irven Olvir

 

[Olvir]

Olvir Weiroon was quickly learning that no two Dreadlords were alike.

Growing up his impression of them had been painted by the servants of his father. They had been stoic, in control, and entirely without personality. That image had been set for as many years as he could think of. It was only this last year that said painting had been utterly torn to shreds.

First it had been Alistair and their enjoyable fireside chat about his sword, then Zael and their newfound friendship, and now these two.

Perla seemed...pleasant enough, albeit hardly interested in any sort of conversation with either him or their other companion.

Speaking of which, Caeso turned out to be pleasant enough to speak with, though closer to the image he had been painted as a child. The other boy was almost exactly what Olvir would have once expected of most Initiates, a fact which didn't bother him in the least. It hadn't taken long to find out he was a Diemut, and from there the conversation had flowed from one thing to another.

His approach to managing crowds however, left much to be desired.

Olvir placed fingers between his lips, an ear piercing whistle springing forth seconds later.

Half the crowd almost immediately turned, attention falling on the three young Anirians. Olvir clearing his throat. "Please, stand aside."

A few people opened their mouths to speak, but Ollie cut them off.

"We have come from the Hospital of the Sacred Hearth in Vel Anir and mean to help." It was a lie, but not a large one. Elspeth's hospital had started serving people in Vel Anir, and it wasn't a stretch they would send aid here. The lie, in his estimation, necessary due to the warning the Proctor had given them.

The crowd seemed to look at one another, frowning still, but slowly began to part and clear the way for the three newcomers.

 

[Perla Irven]

As Caeso and Olvir parted the crowds, Perla jumped off her horse and sped towards the fallen guard, kneeling down beside him. She removed the helmet and found a shriveled up face covered in red blotches. When she turned his head, Perla noticed a yellow and black crust covering his inner ear. An infection? Any doctor who took a glance at the body would assume the death was an unidentified illness since each symptom held similar traits to other diseases. There was only one way to tell for certain of its cause.

Perla's body stiffened. The irises of her eyes faded away, leaving only white fleshy orbs. All the world faded away as her senses shifted to a new reality. Strands of magic danced and fizzled and popped in the air. The sounds of Caeso's magics threatened to pull her attention away but she forced herself to look at the corpse she had been previously inspecting.

The corpse wasn't visible, as was anything else non-magical. But there was a swirl of magic surrounding the body that started in shades of a sickly yellow before forming strands of a dull black. She could taste the sickness it brought on her tongue and its clamorous shrieks in her ears. When she reached out to grasp the strands of magic, she could feel tiny sharp pins jabbing her fingers.

From any onlooker's perspective, Perla looked as though she was just staring at the corpse, then suddenly reaching out to grab the air inches above the dead man. Even if they touched or called out to her, the dread lord would be unable to hear or feel them.

An arrow whizzed through the air, barely missing Caeso's head, and struck his horse in the neck. Two other arrows followed, both striking the other horses. The sharp squeals from the horses sent both the injured animals and the remaining crowds into a panic. Some scared villager took too many steps back and stepped on Perla's hand, the pain bringing her back into reality.

Caeso Diemut Olvir

 

[Caeso Diemut]

A bit on the polite side for the part of a bodyguard, so was Caeso's estimation, but Ollie dispersed the crowd well enough. Perla came forward, proceeding into her part as the...well, it was hardly a charade, she was an alchemist. Albeit one with an ulterior motive and—

The arrow sliced by him, and Caeso grunted in surprise, teeth clenched as he felt the wake of wind from the arrow's flight. He heard the shriek of his horse behind him (Kress, the Academy wasn't fond of its horses not returning from missions, even now after the banishment of the old way). The crowd burst into a panic, the sudden flurry of movement making it difficult to discern where precisely in the village the arrows had come from.

But he did have a general direction. And where his Forcefields were concerned, unidirectional Fields were less taxing than omnidirectional Fields. Caeso held up his left hand before him, the air shimmering slightly like a heat mirage, and a Forcefield manifested in front of him.

Caeso kneeled down in front of Perla, providing cover while she got a hold of her senses (perhaps Ollie would take cover behind his Field as well, perhaps he would sprint for the cover of the buildings). He cast his Drawing spell, and one of his swords flew out of his twin back scabbards and landed in his awaiting right hand.

"Perla!" Caeso shouted over the commotion. It was foul—and doubtless purposeful—timing indeed that their unseen assailants had struck while Perla was distracted. "Prepare yourself to move! On me!"

Perla Irven Olvir

 

[Olvir]

Ollie's sword flickered free of it's scabbard with a surprising amount of alacrity.

Over the last few months he and Amell had been training extensively. Not just with the sword, but alertness, combat, everything. The Guardsmen hadn't gone easy, and quickly the two of them had added to Ollie's already extensive knowledge.

Before the first horse tumbled to the ground the young Noble was already moving, stepping away from the suffering creature and darting towards the nearest building. Another arrow launched itself at his heel, landing just short as he went crashing into the plaster wall.

His head whirled back almost instantly, spotting Caeso and Perla what seemed little more than a sliver of the fair air itself. Magic.

Ollie reminded himself, then looked away from the two Dreadlord.

His eyes quickly scanned over the roof tops, gaze finding one of the cloaked figures skulking towards the edge of the roof line.

"There!" Olvir shouted, pointing towards the figure as he shouted to Caeso and Perla. His hand dropping seconds later as he turned on his heel and headed towards a ladder leaning against a nearby building.

 

[Perla Irven]

The screams of the crowd reached her ears as her visibility cleared. She was on her feet in seconds, standing right behind Olvir and ready to move. The alchemist snatched the strange twig-like arrow from her quiver and her bow, ready to shoot whoever she was directed at.

"Alert and ready!" She shouted to Caeso and Olvir, above the noisy crowds.

The figure lurking near the edge of the roof line sent another arrow at one of the horses, as if they were trying to make sure it was dead. Then the figure spotted Olvir heading towards the ladder and leapt onto the neighboring roof. Perla spotted the runaway and quickly shot one of her arrows at him.

Unfortunately it didn't hit him anywhere vital but it did strike his leg and break through his skin. A small smile formed on Perla's face which was quickly replaced as she remembered there were probably more enemies. Her arrows were special... Perla was an alchemist but she also was the one who made most of their tomes and wands. She knew how to make enchanted items. And they were deadly.

The cloaked figure screamed when the arrow struck his leg and tried to pull it out... but the arrow wouldn't budge. He kept running despite his pained leg but when he looked down he saw the arrow was...growing. The arrow had grown barbed roots into his flesh, digging further and further. The process was slow and painful but no matter how hard he tried, he wouldn't be able to pull out the arrow without causing severe damage to his leg. Overtime, unless it was stopped, the barbed roots would grow throughout his body and tear him apart. But for now it was just slowing him down.

Perla was alert and prepared for any further attacks. Although she wasn't the best with close up fighting, she could avoid dangers and duck into cover when needed. Thankfully, she wasn't sent alone on this mission and would rely on Olvir and Caeso to handle the heavy fighting.

Olvir Caeso Diemut

 

[Caeso Diemut]

As the next arrow zipped past, clear of his frontal Forcefield by a large margin, two things, related in a tangentially way, occurred to him.

First, that he may have tipped his hand to a certain degree by displaying his magic. Though it wasn't entirely out of the question that Perla, in the cover story they were all going with, may have hired foreign sellswords who had some level of magic at their disposal, still it erased for any watching eyes the possibility that he (and probably Olvir by extension) were but mundane bodyguards. Time would tell if this engendered difficulties down the line. Better these possible difficulties, though, than for himself, Olvir, or Perla to be wounded or killed.

Second, their assailant proved with this latest arrow that he wasn't aiming for them. He shot the horses. Dead. A most peculiar development. And somewhat ironic that he needn't reveal his magic at all, considering this.

But the immediacy of the moment urged action, and left little time for reflection.

While Olvir went in chase of the now wounded bowman (a stellar shot, Perla, as it happened), Caeso played the part of bodyguard. He stuck close to Perla. "Forward, ma'am!" Even addressed her as though she had elevated status. Despite the excitement, they mustn't forget the overall mission, their purpose in being here.

Olvir was leaping across the rooftops.

Caeso was pressing into the village on the ground, his left hand still forward, the Forcefield like a nearly transparent shield. The homes encased them, Caeso and Perla, and a proliferation of deadly corners, doorways, and windows were now their hazard.

And, in a low voice after leaning back to confer more privately with Perla (again to preserve the charade), he said, "Watch our backs."

Perla Irven Olvir

 

[Olvir]

Olvir ran as fast as he could, his boots pounding on the flattened roof tops of buildings. Dust kicking up behind him as he ran after the wounded archer.

A few yells and cries went out around them, someone shouting a direction, someone shouting another. It all happened so fast that the young Noble was hardly able to process any of it. All he could focus on was what lay before him.

Where his next foot would fall.

Where the man he was pursuing turned next.

A few months ago it would all have been too much. An overload of information, but after everything he'd been through Ollie's senses began to hone. Training that he had missed from the Guard settling in due to his tutors hand.

Left.​

The voice suddenly cut through his own thoughts, breaking the keen edge honed in his mind and sending him barrelling to the left. He hopped over the small ledge there, and then realized why the sword in his hand had called out to him.

Muscles flexed, and Ollie launched himself over the edge of a roof top. Crashing down seconds later directly into the archer he had been pursuing. Both the noble and the thug going flying into the alleyway below.

 

[Perla Irven]

Perla's brows furrowed in confusion as Caeso addressed her as m'am but she followed his instructions. After a moment, she realized it was to hide their true intentions for being here. The scrawny initiate followed him, her bow readied as they pursued both Olvir and the archer from the ground.

"Got it." She responded to Caeso's orders.

Her alert eyes didn't miss the sight of Olvir and the archer crashing into the alleyway. She subtly motioned for them to disappear into the alleyway while the villagers were still panicking over the incident and running about.

The archer tried to stand but his leg was in such pain that he immediately fell over after the first attempt. The arrow still stuck in his flesh. The thorny brambles had grown in his leg and up to his knee, causing extreme amount of pain. In desperation, the archer tried to shoot Olvir with his bow.

"If you keep attacking then I'm not going to remove the brambles." Perla tried to threaten when they reached the alley.

The archer wasn't really paying attention to the other two and Perla's tone wasn't hard enough to be threatening. The brambles continued growing in the archer's leg, reaching over the knee inch by inch. She looked to the others, hoping they'd do better with interrogations.

Olvir Caeso Diemut

 

[Caeso Diemut]

Olvir was surprisingly athletic and agile. Knock-on effects from the training in swordplay, perhaps. Likely it was that there were highly skilled and highly stern tutors who could well have been honorary Proctors, such was the harsh regimen they put their pupils through.

Whatever the cause for it, Olvir and the archer went tumbling down from the rooftops and disappeared briefly from sight. Perla motioned for them to swing round the oncoming corner into the same alleyway, and abandoning some caution in favor of haste Caeso did so.

He found the archer and Olvir there, the former still trying, however much in vain, to put up a fight. Perla's words fell on unheeding ears...so that left them with the everpresent second option. Force.

Not wanting to send a Forcewave barreling down the alley to almost certainly catching Olvir in it as well, Caeso opted instead to run up and, with both hands, hold his sword above the archer's face, threatening to plunge it down at a moment's notice.

"You would be wise to surrender."

Olvir Perla Irven

 

[Olvir]

Pained lanced through Olvir's side. Shooting up from his ribs and sprawling over him for a brief moment as he caught sight of an arrow aimed directly at his face.

Move.​

The blade beckoned him unhelpfully, but before Perla conducted her thorns to grow the young Weiroon shifted and rolled to the side. Moving just as the arrow loosed and went clattering against the cobbles where he had lain.

A sharp breath pulled into his lungs as pain emanated from his ribs, but the young noble turned and stabbed his blade into the ground. Pushing himself up just in time to see Caeso reach the archer and threaten him with his own blade.

Well done.​

The sword complemented, though Ollie could only let out a grunt. Not adding his own voice to Caeso's threat but standing ready in case the man tried to run once more.

 

[Perla Irven]

The archer's eyes grew wide with terror at the sight of the sword threatening to pierce his face. Caeso's threat effectively reached the mercenary as he dropped his bow, completely surrendering. In addition to Caeso's intimidating stance, being tackled over a roof and still having an arrow growing in his leg had destroyed any resolve he once had. Before they even started asking him questions, he began babbling an explanation.

"I'm just a mercenary!" He exclaimed, "Look I just got paid to kill your horses and try a shot at you guys. It was supposed to be an easy job. I don't know who paid me. I got sent money and a letter with instructions."

Sweat collected from his brow as he told them everything he could possibly know. There was never a reward for loyalty. The best thing he could do was to surrender, tell them what little he knew, and possibly survive. The brambles continued to grow underneath his skin and as he finally looked down at his leg, he could see each vine growing.

"I-I've told you everything!" He gasped in pain.

Perla wasn't certain that he was telling the truth and they had thirty more minutes before he would die. She simply sat down on a nearby barrel and waited in case the others had additional information they wanted to get. Then there was the issue of actually removing the arrow. She knew how to get the arrow to stop growing but removal... that was a different process. Her arrows were designed to take down an enemy and assist in interrogations, not to show them mercy.

"The brambles will kill him in the next thirty minutes." Perla bluntly informed the others, "We have time if we need it."

Olvir Caeso Diemut

 

[Caeso Diemut]

Fear was an excellent motivator to squeezing the truth from someone, yet to be truly effective it needed a dash of hope, an incentive, a way out—these like seasoning on a steak. From what Caeso could tell, the mercenary did not seem to be lying. Maybe omitting some things, maybe telling half-truths, but not lying. It took a man well in control of himself to lie convincingly under the pressure this mercenary was currently under.

With Perla's mention of the emptying hourglass, merely thirty minutes for him to live, the man was primed to give them whatever information he knew. Fear mixed with hope, yes, that potent combination at work.

Caeso kept his sword steady above the mercenary's face. Time to tease out those potential omissions and half-truths if there were indeed any.

"Does the name Einhard Solm mean anything to you?"

Olvir's cousin. One of the two Guardsmen killed by the unknown disease. And the question did not tip their hand, for their very guise in being here was that of alchemist (and her bodyguards) investigating the matter. Perhaps his answer would be revealing, or perhaps it would leave them in the dark, those pulling the mercenary's strings as careful as they were with the anonymous letter careful again with scant details.

Perla Irven Olvir

 

[Olvir]

Olvir's jaw tightened ever so slightly as Einhard's name was spoken, fingers pressing into the hilt of his sword as he watched the Mercenaries eyes. Anger flickered through his chest as he pictured the cousin he once played with as a child. The boy who had run around with him an Houri, who had once sworn he would defend Vel Anir better than any Dreadlord.

A man now dead.

His knuckles turned white, and his teeth ground down as he moved to take half a step forward and grab the mercenary by the throat.

Vengeance does not come quickly. Stay your hand, regardless of his answer.​

The words were enough to snap Olvir back into reality. The echo of his blades words reaching through his mind. Stopping his step mid stride and making it appear as though he had simply shifted to get a better look at the other side of the alleyway. What...that's the first time you've told me not to kill someone.

Olvir thought, deliberately trying to speak to the blade for the first time within his mind.

For a second he waited. A single beat of the heart passing, and then he reached out once more. Can you hear me?

A pause, and then an answer.

Yes.
​

The young noble felt his chest tighten, but his focus drew back to the mercenary. The man who might lead him to those who'd killed his cousin.