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Part I • Chapter 2: A Dangerous Business
Axis, Society of Plots Within Plots The capital city of the Empire was a shining beacon of civilization, or at least that was what the young were taught, and the image presented by the pristine army was in keeping with that, even when they were marching out to attack amassing hordes of demons. Learning was had by all, and what's more, the Emperor had several palaces within the city, all of which attracted both nobles in their glittering jewelry and silks and artists and performers as well. Yet there was an underside to this city, and not just the usual smattering of pickpockets and con artists, either. No, in the bright halls and houses of the nobility there was a quiet war being waged, a conflict of words and secrets, the game of politics. Favor was sought by all. Power was the goal. Maneuvering to reveal a secret or slight an opponent at the right time would raise the chess player's favor among the other nobles. Even the Emperor was not immune to this, and though he played at an advantage, there were weaker points in the line of his defense which could be breached with the right stimuli. Every word had weight for and against those playing the game of political power, and sometimes the only way to win was to not play. In four short days, the lives of five individuals had changed in ways completely unexpected. Demons were fought, people were saved, and honors were given. Hard truths were spoken, facts were laid out, plans were made. But it was not any of that which had consumed the evening and even the fitful sleep of the five. No, it was the secret entrusted to them which had caused more concern than being in the midst of battle. Her Royal Highness, Princess Maelona Dracorix, was to leave the capital city in what secrecy could be afforded her in disguise and with no entourage. Four of the five had had strange encounters the night before they were to leave, but it depended upon the individual how much the odd words of warning had impacted the general mental roar of worrying about all the angles of everything that was to go on that day. Swordsday the 21st day of Rainmoot, 27th Year of Our Emperor Cyrian Dracorix ![]() As the travelers were introduced to their horses, given their names and any minor ticks of behavior or favorite treats, it became apparent that these horses were not as common as they appeared. Their eyes seemed to regard the travelers with curiosity, and the grooms' mention of their names received small reactions from each, varied but no less obviously a reaction. Even the largest member of their group didn't seem to be carrying so much weight that the groom at his horse's head thought it worth mentioning. None of the grooms seemed at all concerned, except for the proper treatment of the horses. They would reliably carry the travelers forty miles a day on the highways or most of that in the wilds south of Axis, as long as they weren't pushed too hard, or too long. The spring abundance made it unnecessary to carry food for the horses with them, but if they were headed for any areas that didn't have so much, they would have to consider bringing oats and grain to supplement their diets, and that could be purchased in most towns near roads. That was all the advice they could offer, and so they left the horses to their new riders and moved out of the way.
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So long, and thanks for all the amazing games.
pronouns: she/her ✦ On indefinite hiatus. My Site Shtuffs ✦ Ask Me Anything Last edited by Aethera; Jun 5th, 2019 at 09:48 AM. |
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Last edited by Aethera; Jul 28th, 2020 at 11:12 AM. Reason: linking to evangelist encounters |
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Status: Shaking off the rust ... |
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Last edited by Aethera; Jul 28th, 2020 at 11:13 AM. Reason: added link anchor |
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Status: Shaking off the rust ... Last edited by Roekahs; Jun 13th, 2019 at 12:04 PM. |
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The princess (now with dyed dark brown hair pulled tightly back into a braid hanging down her back and wearing the embossed leather armor and uniform of an archer of the Imperial Army) was not long in arriving after Scabbard of Iron, but her face was closed if not outright stony. She said nothing, though she did nod and attempt a weak smile when Bazziox made his jerky little bow. She moved closer to the horse she was given, listening to the groom with less than perfect focus, one boot tapping against the flagstones. If she didn't like her situation she apparently chose not to comment on it, at least for the moment. She asked the groom to help her tie her bundle of arrows behind her saddle, then pulled a small apple from her belt pouch to offer the horse. The mare happily took the offered treat, and even with a horse-slobbered palm, Maelona gave her first real smile. It was small, and faded quickly, but at least she seemed to like her mare and take well to the idea of riding. She did glance over at her three guardians with their heads together, but didn't seem inclined to join them unless asked. The city was beginning to waken, even as early as it was, and though they were not in a part of town that would be baking or otherwise arranging the day's wares, the army did patrol near the Palace of War and all the nearby garrisons of officers and enlisted alike. Now that it was daylight, grey as it might be, there were also runners in uniform hurrying along to their business, the first signs of awakening soldiery, and anyone in service to army or palace was now awake to bring water, food, or other morning necessities to their charges. A neigh from the nearby stables made the horses raise their heads in curiosity, but it was just a friendly sort of sound, not indicating danger, so they returned to waiting patiently for their riders to mount. The grooms began to look a bit fidgety, perhaps feeling they were needed elsewhere but too polite or well-trained to say anything while still in custody of the horses. Birdsong and far off speech rounded out the morning as the temperature began to rise, predicting a pleasant enough day for travel, for all their secret departure was losing its secrecy the longer the heroes spoke amongst themselves. It was time to go, but they still numbered only four. Levi had yet to appear. A young boy, perhaps all of ten but scrawny and in clothes little better than rags, came running into the courtyard where the horses and heroes were gathering, looking around before running first to the horses and saying something to the disguised princess then over to the heroes talking together and straight up to the lizardwoman to tap her elbow. "'Scuse me, miss, but yeh be 'Emak'?" He said the name carefully, as though he wasn't sure he was pronouncing it correctly. Once acknowledged, he straightened his shoulder, staring almost through her as he passed along a message with a local accent. "The archer said I was ta tell yeh that he'd catch up after leadin' someun astray, but y'should go quickly. All was well, 'e thought, but 'e said he wanted to be extra careful. If y'leave 'im 'is 'orse, 'e'll be along soonish, otherwise 'e'll follow as fast as 'e can." A blink brought the boy's eyes back to the current moment and he looked up at Emak, fidgeting a bit. It wasn't clear if he was hoping for a copper for running the message (though likely Levi had already paid him at least one to do so) or if he thought there might be a return message for him to bring back to Levi when the archer came for his horse.
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So long, and thanks for all the amazing games.
pronouns: she/her ✦ On indefinite hiatus. My Site Shtuffs ✦ Ask Me Anything Last edited by Aethera; Jul 28th, 2020 at 11:09 AM. Reason: adding link anchor |
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Status: Shaking off the rust ... |
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So what lay ahead of them now? The princess was not incapable of holding her own in any fighting they ran into, but she was less experienced in real world tactics compared to sparring, and if there were any combat, their level of secrecy was sliding. The south gates of Axis were open when they passed through, guards paying them little more heed than a glance or two, for what importance was a band of travelers? They likely saw many in the course of a day. Even the lone Imperial archer in their midst didn't really raise any interest, the army did what it did, and it was of little concern to the gate wardens. The road stretched out as far as the eye could see, cutting a straight line through the grasslands around Axis. As they rode, they could see much of the city's farmland on their right, and once they'd ridden some distance, the bay on their left receded, leaving more flat land between it and the road. There was still some sparse tree cover here and there, but much of it had been cut back who knows how long ago to make room for farming. The farms would give way to mixed grassland ahead, but that would take them some time to reach. About all they knew was that there were way-stations along the road providing fresh water for people and horses, and that it would be three days to reach the City of Wonders. At that point it would be up to them to figure out the best path forward.
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So long, and thanks for all the amazing games.
pronouns: she/her ✦ On indefinite hiatus. My Site Shtuffs ✦ Ask Me Anything Last edited by Aethera; Jul 27th, 2019 at 04:47 PM. |
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The flickering firelight dances in the quiet darkness. Bazziox sits with his back against a tree, the flames and the sleeping companions behind him. There is likely no real reason for watch to be held, yet he had insisted that they take extra precautions especially with Levi's note in mind. Perhaps it had truly been nothing, but perhaps there were already evil deeds at work in the Empire.
As he sits, the dragonborn turns something over and over in his hands, a stray gleam giving away the jewel-embedded object on occasion. An object of power, of might. An interesting portent should one prescribe to such folly. Bazziox's eyes remain fixed on the mace as his thoughts travel the path of unwelcome memories. The answer is inside ... inside the Cathedral of Light?! No matter. It is important, he must retrieve it. The scraggly old man who had bore the news to the dragonborn has seemingly vanished into the night. Despite the abrupt disappearance, Bazziox is not put off from the new task. Santa Cora is not far, yet far enough that he can formulate a plan during the journey.-rt. Bazziox's mental wanderings are interrupted by a sound. Blearily, he glances around, half lost in his memory, the mace in his hands all but forgotten. At first he does not find the source of the noise, but then he catches the light reflected in a dark orb. A midnight black orb belonging to the massive black he had ridden. The eye is fixed on Bazziox. The horse snorts again. Immediately, Bazziox's senses flow out to the surrounding trees. At first all he hears are the standard insect and frog noises of the night. But then, faintly, the rustle of leaves. Bazziox's thick, clawed fingers curl around the mace. Surprisingly silently, the large mass of his body rises. Gently and with nary a rustle, his clawed feet step out the distance to the horse. In the shadows, the rustling continues, but low to the ground. With an inaudible sigh, Bazziox relaxes slightly, letting the mace slide silently out of his grip to the ground. With a practiced, fluid motion the staff strapped across his back is suddenly in his hands. Two quick strides. Broad overhead swipe. Thwap A startled yipe. Bazziox is on top of the stunned fox before it can react. Several rapid rustling noises reach the dragonborn's ear as he plucks the helpless creature from the sack it had been rustling about in. "That is mine, youngling." The words are but a low rumble as Bazzoix holds the now struggling foxling by the scruff of its neck. The legs suddenly stop flailing as Bazziox raises the creature out of the low shadows and into the dim light cast by the fire. "I think you shall join me on my watch for this night. We shall decide your fate in the morning. A good lesson this is, young one. Even the slightest rustle in even these woods, will land you at the mercy of another." Bazziox pulls a rope from a horse and wanders back to his previous perch, a young fox in tow with a rope tied securely about its neck. The dragonborn slumps back to the ground and clicks his tongue. The small nose shimmers in the firelight. Gentle, padding paws inch forward. The little one takes a nibble, then gulps the snack down ravenously. When it finishes, the fox tries to skitter away only to find the rope still securely tied around it's neck. It paces for a few minutes before finally lying down, a wary eye fixed on its captor. Bazziox smiles slightly before returning to his own thoughts.
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Status: Shaking off the rust ... Last edited by Roekahs; Jul 27th, 2019 at 07:20 PM. |
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The road between Axis and Horizon cut through vaste swathes of farmland, where the peasantry toiled to provide the food that fed the empire. Should the heroes prevail in their efforts, hopefully this vital work would continue to be able to be done in at least relative peace. War had a long reach though—even if the armies of the empire managed to keep roving marauders away from these heartlands, the demand for men to serve in those armies caused its own ravages. Though Scabbard of Iron liked to think that the Heavenly Valley would be safe from such desperation, the monks did not number many—calling up even just one able bodied man out of every ten would significantly increase the number of fighters the valley had for its defense. The strength of the monks was not the strength of the legions, however—their enemies faced a flurry of fists, not a wall of shields.
As the sun started to sink towards the horizon and the people turned from their toil, the Princess's party was stopping to make camp and ride out early the next morning. Tents had to be set up, a fire made and meals heated, the horses brought to water then returned and given fodder. It was as Emak came back with the horses that Scabbard of Iron noticed that more people were approaching their campsite; while they were close enough to the road for convenience, they were still far enough away that they were not being approached by chance. He looked at the men approaching him and saw gritted teeth, hands close to the daggers on their belts, and that the two up front had narrowed their eyes upon seeing that they were observed. That their blades were, for the moment, still in their scabbards was at least a welcome sign. "What's your business here?" one of the two men up front demanded as soon as they had reached the edge of the camp. He looked to the Princess, still in her soldier garb, and the party's arms. "If you're thinking to rob this land then you've made a grave mistake." Of course the people would be on edge. The Emperor did not send his heir flying from the capital in a country where no one felt a dread in the air—and in places the atmosphere was absolutely dripping with fear, even if no one knew why. If faced with an enemy that they knew how to confront, who wouldn't wish to strike first? "We are no brigands," Scabbard of Iron said. He motioned towards the Princess, who did her best not to shrink back from having attention called to her a second time. "We ride under the auspices of the legion, and will be gone from here shortly." The second man in front stepped forward. "And what Imperial detachment contains just one archer?" he asked. "I'll bet you she's a deserter!" "Still in her uniform?" Scabbard of Iron asked. "As you said yourself, she only calls attention to herself whenever the eyes of her fellow legionaries are upon her." Little Emak was able to chime in, saying that the party traveled to Horizon on the summons of the Archmage, and that the Princess was their escort. Scabbard of Iron joined the others in nodding in support of the story. "You are not unwise to keep vigil," the monk said to the mollified and now slightly deflated men. "When the darkness comes, those accustomed to light see nothing unless they light a lamp." It was best that none accustom themselves to darkness. That was it. The men, satisfied that their homes were safe and that they were very much alive, departed, and the party was free to continue to settle in for the night. |
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So long, and thanks for all the amazing games.
pronouns: she/her ✦ On indefinite hiatus. My Site Shtuffs ✦ Ask Me Anything Last edited by Aethera; Aug 12th, 2019 at 03:07 PM. |
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Traveling that day was harder. Most of the group had sore throats, and with two of the four horses acting up on top of that, they didn't make nearly as much progress as they had the first couple of days; that was saying something given how much aching was had during the second day for all those not used to horseback riding. Even the princess kept shifting position, switching from riding astride to riding sidesaddle with an ingenious support strap tethered to the saddle horn. They spent an hour which felt like a lifetime struggling to ride onward with mixed success. It took the princess sliding down to the ground in a less dignified dismount to stop them, and only then did it occur to Bazziox that the bottle she drew out of her bags was a healing potion, and that he had healing spells. He stopped her and suggested she put the potion in her belt purse for easier access, and then drew all the humanoid party members to him, casting healing spells for broad effect across the three who felt awful, and then the two horses. His magic wasn't usually something he applied to animals, but there was no reason he couldn't do so. And it would prevent some of the misbehavior of the horses to be freed of their discomfort, too. The rest of the day passed rather uneventfully, though the black moods continued for some even past the healing of their allergic reaction. More people were visible the closer to Horizon they got, both in the fields and on the road. Numerous dirt roads crossed the highway, and the locals used them all. It wasn't until they could see the tiny guards at the northern gate that suddenly more of Horizon's lofty heights became visible above them in the clouds. The most obvious was the cobblestone road up to a floating rock up over the northeastern quarter, partly out over the nice drop-off from ground level down to sea level and the port town of Whitecliff. From there it seemed there were floating islands chained together, or not, ships that floated in the sky as easily as on the sea, layers upon layers of buildings, natural structures, and man-made platforms or craft all the way up to disappear into the clouds. It was generally known that Horizon was a city of wonders, but for strangers to get their first glimpse of what that entailed, many were speechless, the princess among them. She kept staring upward as night fell and the view grew less clear, no further sharp comments uttered.
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So long, and thanks for all the amazing games.
pronouns: she/her ✦ On indefinite hiatus. My Site Shtuffs ✦ Ask Me Anything |
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