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darkredFrenzy Plant – Portentous Road
@caits@raijinslayer@hatakekuro@liferusher@lunarlors34@oblivion666@Zarkun
Very abruptly, the column of soldiers descended into disarray. Gabriel's sudden reunion with the ground, and his subsequent feat of knocking himself out on a dirt road, nearly pushed over his comrade in front of him, and his thrown-out arms intruded into the space of those on either side having failed to stop his tumble. The unexpected disruption passed speedily, however, with the soldiers steadying themselves and parting to walk around the fallen boy, with various looks of mirth, annoyance, or concern on their face. When the wagon rolled up, its driver -Rune- carefully slid from his saddle to pick Gabriel up and plop him in the back; evidently his confident decline of the invitation to ride was all for naught.
Following that interruption, the war guild made tracks. Sustained despite the hot sun and many miles by the cooling and invigorating magics of Joakim and Tsubano, the soldiers left Crocus and its level, unassuming hinterlands far behind. As they progressed northeast, the terrain steadily lost its evenness, and the weather slightly more temperate. Overhead, a light cover of clouds suffused the sky, turning the sun from a burgeoning presence to a seldom-seen specter. Several small settlements passed Frenzy Plant by, with no dialogue exchanged. Once another disruption broke out in the ranks with the sudden arrival of an unfamiliar being. Leo's appearance warranted an instant outcry of “intruder!” from Rune, and the nearest half-dozen soldiers immediately spread out to surround him. Though brandishing arms and magic, they did not act, and after an explanation by Gabriel warily consented to the spirit's presence.
Surprisingly little conversation went on otherwise, but Harper Saxum consented to respond to Argus when he asked about the day's events. She cast a glance at Enma before giving her own version. ”What are you, the president of his fan club? Aren't you a little too male for that? Here's what really happened, Argus: two hot shot Phoenix Wing swordsman wanted a piece of Zander and Xyster. One of 'em was a joke—he waited around, not doing anything until the General was in a bad spot, and then threatening both him and his horse. The moment he actually tried fighting, Zander destroyed him. The other one was Nolan, and sure, he's a Slayer, so of course he's got a stupid amount of power. Still, he could hardly keep up with the both of them together. He would have gone down if he hadn't summoned a gold sword and weakened poor Xyster with its presence. She went Night Terror with Ereshkigal. If we get back, I hope we get to take Phoenix Wing down another notch.” She glanced at Damian, who walked away from and behind the column of troops, knowing he was too far away to possible hear her, especially given the ambient noise of walking soldiers.
With night falling, the warrior guild came to a halt in labyrinthine, drably stony canyon country. Camp was made atop a plateau, where the wind whistled ominously but a single path of entry granted excellent defensibility against raiders. Eliza informed the general that Belka lay just ahead, and plans were made to advance into the town the next day.
-=-=-
The break of dawn galvanized the camp into action. Soldiers moved hither and thither, readying themselves but not doing away with the tents, as part of the plan to establish a base of operations outside city limits should things go south.
Belka lay on its own great spire of rock reaching up from a misty abyss far below, and a colossal stone bridge spanned the canyon to connect land and crag. General Sanders, Corporal Putcher, Lieutenant Brass, Lieutenant Kilo, Private Graham, and Damian descended from the plateau to traverse the short road before the great bridge. All others could watch clearly from the precipice. Before long the envoy stood before the gate of Belka.
Five minutes passed by of perfect, agonizing silence. No watchman spotted the envoys and called to them, no horns or sirens resounded from within the town, and the gates didn't move an inch. At Sanders' urging, Chester Graham blew a signal horn. A few more seconds passed with only the whispering of the wind across sheer cliffs to break the monotony. Then the portcullis began to rise.
At a comfortable, leisurely pace it ground upward, creaking and wobbling. Through the open gate strode three figures. All were thin, and arrayed in order of increasing height from the left. One, a fat man in a cleric's dark green robe and a huge-brimmed hat, used an enormous iron mace with spikes like a walking stick, but the others carried nothing. In the middle stood a scrawny woman with ragged, waist-length hair under a farmer's cowl, her expression vacant and her blouse black, dirty, and held together by rope. On her other side stood a thin man who must have been seven feet tall, with a long, pointy beard, a brimmed pointy hat tied beneath his chin, large spectacles, glistening white teeth, and rustic nobleman's wear obviously tailored for his ludicrous frame, ruffled collar and all. When the three drew near, it was he who spoke. ”Good morning, good morning! Forgive our lateness. It is rare that we here in Belka, famed as we our for our medicine, get visitors, particularly such early risers! How can we be of service?”
Sanders responded immediately, with all the officiousness that could be expected from him. ”Good morning. I am the commander of a small mercenary company, currently passing through this region. Its cliffs and gorges are most unforgiving, and we have nearly gotten lost. If you please, we would like to rest here for a day and provision ourselves for the coming march. There are fewer than forty of us, and I guarantee we will not be a burden.”
The nobleman's brilliant, toothy smile reflected what little sun eked through the yellow-gray clouds. ”We are always supportive of the armed forces, and would like nothing better. The only provision is that you think of the hospitality of little Belka in the cragland when your war is over. Our gate is open to you!” He tittered and gave a slight bow, making the point of his hat flop about. When he straightened up again, a stray mote of light permitted the soldiers to glimpse the gauntness and paleness of his face. No doubt a poor harvest in such unpleasant country meant hunger for all, from the peasant to the lord. He turned around, tittering still, and alongside the farmer and the cleric strode back through the threshold.
The soldiers, meanwhile, turned about and made a beeline back for camp. Sanders frowned at Eliza. ”I hope your active imagination hasn't gotten away with you, miss. They aren't your everyday folk, but such eccentricity is the defining feature of remote rural settlements. They can hardly be called animalistic savages.” Eliza opened her mouth to protest, but Sanders' smooth tones continued after a beat. ”If it turns out you have drawn our guild on a wild goose chase, miss, you will be sorely punished, but I am not yet ready to assume all things well. Bear with me.”
At the camp, he addressed the whole guild. ”We have made contact with denizens of the town. They do not appear to be diseased or afflicted in accordance with the tales. Something does, however, feel off. Frenzy Plant will be moving into the city to set up camp, and we will keep a sharp eye out for any abnormalities. While we are here, do not flaunt your magic, and do not take any food or water from the locals. Sup on only what we have brought with us, or what our own hunting parties recover.” He turned to look at the town, and to listen to the cries of the crows that flocked about the place. ”If there is something amiss in Belka, we will be sure to find out what.”