[hr][hr][center][img]https://i.postimg.cc/50VBWNfh/63507c917b644ae085a53d695ad43269.png[/img] [img]https://66.media.tumblr.com/2fa3b68ea7ccb5e241580009fa3f8dfe/tumblr_nrjjdcXvK71uq1wtvo1_500.gif[/img][/center][hr][hr][h3][b][i][center][color=8519A2]Arc I - Terreille in Trouble[/color][/center][/i][/b][/h3] [hr][hr] [center][h3][color=SlateBlue]In the ruined town of Sharon, Shalador[/color][/h3] [color=SlateBlue]Counter of Days:[/color] 5 days [/center] [hr] Xandar had dozed off for the majority of the spell, resting a bit and letting his mind wander. However, he was still keeping aware of his surroundings, making sure the remaining viper rats weren’t slowly planning their demise. It had been a while since he had to protect people, since he had been living on his own for so long. But, even more different, he was trying to protect people who didn’t want to be protected. Trying to save people who didn’t want saving. It was a careful balance, and he had to realize that his comrades would have to learn from their own experiences and not have their hand held the whole way. Xandar yawned and shook his head, looking at the witch from behind his sight shield. [color=crimson]“Yes, but it only takes one time, Widow. There are things out their far stronger than you, and even I, unfortunately. There’s no harm in the safety of numbers.”[/color] Xandar picked his head up, getting a sense of a number of people making their way towards them. They didn’t seem like anything terrifying, but there was a good amount of them. Who would be out here in a place like this? [color=crimson]‘Well, it seems we have company again. However, we should be expecting quite a few this time’[/color] Faeril looked annoyed as the leathery membranes of her wings rustled as she dismissed his comment slightly. Oh, she knew it to be true. She just didn't want to admit it, especially to this arrogant warrior. Warlord Princes were notoriously hard to live with when they were right and you let them know you knew it. So it was with some thankful glee that she heard the people Xandar had been the first to notice. [color=SlateBlue][i]"Oh, wonderful. Why do you attract trouble like a light draws moths?"[/i][/color] She complained on their shared mental link. Moving to a window as she peered down into the dusty street. It seemed there were about five tough-looking men. What startled her however was their lack of a Jewel. [color=SlateBlue][i]"Landens... Why would they come out here?"[/i][/color] The non-Blood, or Landens, lacked the psychic powers of others of their race. Living a simpler life governed by the Blood for better or worse. In the recent years the relationship between the two groups had broken down in Terreille to nearly nonexistence. Pressing tightly into the shadows she listened as they quietly talked. Speaking of open rebellion against the Queen of Shalador. Their desperation peaking as it had before. Soon it would be followed by fields watered with their blood. [color=crimson][i]”I don’t know. Maybe you should ask yourself that, Miss Trouble.”[/i][/color] Xanadar teased, loving to make his Black Widow companion flustered, trying to work his way into that cold, iron heart of hers. If there was a challenge, Warlord Princes loved to come up to the occasion. He moved the sight shield over the window so they would be hidden, looking at them. He summoned his bow, pulling the string back and ready to summon an arrow. [color=crimson][i]”Just give me the word and we can have five dead Landens on the side of the road.”[/i][/color] [color=SlateBlue][i]"Why are you so quick to kill everything?"[/i][/color] Faeril snipped, pushing the bow down. [color=SlateBlue][i]"There are only five of them and Landens. They are hardly a threat!"[/i][/color] She glowered at Xandar giving a mental grumble about how she did not find trouble, trouble just had a habit of happening. [color=crimson][i]”I don’t know, because we are Rogue for the most part and everything is trying to kill us? Call me paranoid, but most people we meet don’t just want to have tea.”[/i][/color] Xandar sighed as he vanished his bow, crossing his arms. If they were spies for the Queen it would certainly not be wise to let them live, but as they are they are harmless. [color=crimson][i]”What do you suppose we do then? I don’t want them knowing we’re here in case they can’t keep their mouths shut.”[/i][/color] [color=SlateBlue][i]"They are speaking of rebellion."[/i][/color] The Black Widow pointed out, patting the brute on the arm in a patronizing way. [color=SlateBlue][i]"Thus they can be useful. Don't worry you giant buffoon, you can kill everyone later and take all the plunder."[/i][/color] She crooned mentally, looking smug. [color=crimson][i]”That’s a death sentence, even if they think they’re all alone. Either they have no sense, or they’re up to something.[/i][/color] Xandar playfully shoved Faeril, seeing her smug looking face and wanting to wipe it right off of her. [color=crimson][i]”If you want to talk to them, be my guest. But if I sense a hint of malicious intent? They’re as good as dead.”[i][/color] Blinking as she was shoved slightly, Faeril grew annoyed as he became protective. [color=SlateBlue][i]"You do not have to kill everyone who breathes wrongly in my direction."[/i][/color] She huffed. [color=crimson][i]”I’m looking out for everyone, Faeril. Not just you. If you want to talk? Be my guest, you can surely handle yourself. I’ll just mind my own business then.”[/i][/color] Xandar breathed out sharply, walking to the door and holding it open. [color=crimson]”Be my guest.”[/color] The Black Widow stared at the man as he held the door open, her mouth a tight line as she narrowed her eyes. The landens below were convinced they were alone still. Oblivious to their watchers for better or worse. If the Landens were discussing a rebellion then they were indeed desperate and the Blood in Terreille were in far more danger than anyone cared to admit. Not only were they being torn apart by the Queens but by the people they tended. For while the Blood had the power of their Jewels, the Landens had numbers. No matter how strong a Queen and her Court there would be a vicious fight if the Landens uprising became widespread. It would be a uprising that saw no innocents. Sighing Faeril closed her wings and walked towards the door, laying a hand on Xandar's arm. A familiar touch. An attempt to comfort the Warlord Prince. [color=SlateBlue]"We cannot allow them to rebel. It will spread and innocents will die. You and I both know the danger the landens present."[/color] She whispered softly, passing by him and out the door. The five landens were of the stock found by the mountain. Miners once, or perhaps loggers. One could very well hazard they had been forced out of their homes by Eyrien warriors and their increasing taxes. They were talking of rebellion indeed, but in an abstract way that hinted they had little support in the nearby settlement. A small comfort, but it was one best headed off. [color=SlateBlue]"That would be unwise, and you well know it."[/color] Faeril spoke carefully as she turned the corner, startling the group. Their clothes, she noted, were poor and mostly patches. Their weapons were their fists and what they might find laying about. A group of five against a witch of her caliber? They were no match. Yet if they did attack, would the Reaper seek their lives? Faeril rather hoped not. They were fools if they were so rash, and young fools at that. She doubted even one of them had seen the quarter of a century. "Witch." Spat one with a beard, making a sign of some superstitious nonsense to ward off evil. "I tol' ye we ought to go somewhere we could set a guard." He snarked to another who hand hands that looked like he slung rocks for fun. The giant merely glowered at the intruding witch, as if it was her fault they couldn't see a mouse if they stepped on it! "Well what do we do?" Asked a third, a wiry fellow who looked as though he had consumed some sort of drug. He most likely had, Faeril reconsidered, his hands were twitching and there was a wild look in his eyes she didn't like. "We can't just l-let her leave. Tell t-the Queen B-bitch." The jittery one seemed quite certain of this, and the others seemed to be considering it as well. [color=SlateBlue]"As wise as that may be. I'd advise against it."[/color] Faeril advised in an icy tone. [color=SlateBlue]"I am no friend to the Queen Bitch. Nor would she take kindly to you planning a half-thought rebellion that would only seen your sons in chains and your daughters broken in homes where they would need care all their days. Your wives and mothers put to the sword. Your farms and fields sown with ash and bones."[/color] Her pale blue eyes flashed with ice as she spread her wings. The landens cowering back in slight fear. "No friend to the Queen? Then what stops us from claiming your lying about that and handing you over for some reward? Not wise to be slinging shit about." Sneered the bearded on who had spat at Faeril's appearance. [color=SlateBlue]"The fact you are only five."[/color] Growled Faeril. [color=SlateBlue]"And if it is 'shit' I speak then look to those of yours who are taken to the Queen even for 'reward'. How do they return?"[/color] This caused the group to shift uncomfortably answering Faeril's bluff. It appeared even a 'reward' was an edged sword with the current Queen. Yet as it was, they were at a stalemate. The landens were unsure if they could trust this Eyrien woman and the Eyrien woman was not likely to turn her back and depart the landens who might just speak to the Queen and risk that reward. [hr][hr] [center] [h3][color=Gold]Elsewhere in Eldra ,Shalador[/color][/h3] [/center] [hr] The bookstore's keeper was quick to retreat as the Warlord snarled at him. It seemed this Lady was a bit eccentric, though Saetan with an amused twist to his lips as he scowled into the dusty air. He never did like the eccentric ones. They were sometimes decent in their own way, yet they were always the same as the others in the fact they wanted their own desires met with as little payment as was possible. Tapping his fingers on the wall softly, he watched the shopkeeper busy himself with his counter. Polishing it lest it offend the woman who was trespassing into this little haven Saetan had found. Straightening his suit, the man ran his hand through his dark hair giving it a touselled appearance. Well, if he was going to need to play cover to get the woman out of the bookstore and away from these people... So be it, but he wasn't going to like it. Turning the corner, her attached a seductive smile to his lips that didn't quite hide the predatory smile he felt was there. His eyes were colder than the deepest of winters as he walked down the row on soft feet. He would charm this woman off her feet and into a grave nobody would find. And he would like it. Turning the corner, he paused to lounge against the shelves. A rakish poise as he examined the cousins. The Warlord had the dark skin and hair of long-lived race, but there was something a little bit off that made the golden eyes narrow and Saetan's interest prick to a deadly point. There was something just off enough, he couldn't call this one Hyallian though the posture and the behavior was of those courts. The subtle spell that wove through the air was entangled in this man so subtly, Saetan was forced to admire the Craftsmanship of a caster who knew their work. But the woman had knocked him off his feet. The spell that wove about the man subtly wove about her in great chains of power. The Black Jeweled Warlord Prince was surprised that she didn't [i]feel[/i] the weight of them. The sweet alluring scent of her though, it called to him and he found he didn't want to deny it. He! The most sought after man in all the Realms was staring at a hideous old crone who was no doubt a Queen. A Hyallian Queen. One of the ones he hated the most. The wood under his hand groaned and cracked. Splinters falling the floor as he stared at the two with a deadly glower. Narrowing his eyes he saw the flicker of illusion about the woman. Those heavy chains of spells seemed perhaps not so thick as he thought them. [color=Gold]"What a strange thing to find a flower of Hyall in this horrid place."[/color] The man purred in a voice that would make the smoothness of silk seem like the coarsest of sand. Moving forward with a predator's grace, he took one of Fatima's hands in his own. Needing to feel her, to smell her. To rip out her throat even as he wanted to wrap her in his power and carry her away from here and left her cousin to the motes of dust after he had burned the man inside out with wytchfire. Kissing the weathered skin, he smelt the scent of her and bared his teeth in a smile that was a snake's. [color=Gold]"I cannot fathom never meeting a woman of your like before."[/color] He praised. Yes, he would find out where she had hidden away while working out the spells that would get rid of her little guard and expose what spell was bound about him. It set Saetan's teeth on edge to play this game, but he needed to know. [color=Gold]"Perhaps you could dismiss the boy. I doubt he will be of much amusement."[/color] He could track down the bastard later and deal with him. Meanwhile, Dareen would find herself led on a merry chase through the alley, only to find a brick wall. A small cap lay on the ground, dusty and well patched. A figure just leaping from the tall wall to the other side, their pale blonde hair bright in the dark of the alley. They had not slowed nor stopped during Dareen's shouts nor pursuit. It was hardly a wise thing to do when someone was shouting and you weren't exactly strong nor innocent of a crime.