CHAPTER ONE: A KINGDOM IN NEED
The Stairs of Council, a large staircase with exactly 1000 stairs leading up into the Grand Hall of the Arisan High Council, were an imposing sight to everyone that stood in front of them. The building itself rivaled in magnificence even that of the Imperial Palace. From the outside, its ivory walls, embedded with star tears, miniature crystals that shiny only at night, reflect the Soleil's warmth down onto those who marvel at its beauty. When dusk approaches, however, and the Heart of Natal rises, the star tears ignite, bathing the Grand Hall in an eerie yet breathtaking glow.
The sound of footfalls - distinctive of boots to stone - signal the ascent of heroes into the Grand Hall. The smell of blood, bile, ichor, and sulfur fill the Grand Hall for only the second time in history - the first being the War of the Gates when heroes, like those gathering within the Council House, were called to war for the first time under a unified Arisan banner. Armored boots clank against stone and robes sway to and fro as heroes walk fervently forward, entering the Hall of Councillors where gargantuan statues of Ren's past councillors stand, carved in rememberance of a history long forgotten by most outside these walls, directing those wandering its halls towards the Grand Council Chamber.
The entrance to this chamber is guarded by a massive door of gold and platinum - a door large enough to allow the passage of dragons and which at one point had. A hospitalier greets heroes as they enter, dictating to each that Chancellor Baal will take the stand soon. Around the room, armed guards of Ren patrol, keeping the peace amongst the varied adventurers present. No weapons ordances are in effect now as would be on most normal days. Emerging into the Grand Chamber, the first thing of notice is the black marble floor - sheened to such an extent that it mimics as a mirror, reflecting the identities of those who now grace its presence. Looking around, the chamber walls are decorated with tapestries depicting the history of Ren. These walls give way at various intervals to reveal alcoves where the Altheiri, master archers loyal to the Imperium, stand guard over the proceedings below, bowstrings at the ready and arrows nocked. At the far side of the chamber, five oversized thrones rest comfortably, signifying the seats of the five High Chancellors - the Chancellor of Justice included - who make the decisions that are for the good of Ren and its people.
There was a time, not so long ago, that Raignik had considered himself sane. He rarely made foolish decisions; uncommon were the number of occasions he felt the need to stick his hand out into an open flame, or taunt a snarling beast.
Yet here he was; in the heart of a sea of Imperium interests. Hand in the flame and nose to nose with a very cross metaphorical wolf.
Gazing up at the seven thrones at the head of the Grand Hall, Raignik could only shake his head in silence. Ren was a great Kingdom, if it wasn’t he wouldn’t be here. The call to all those patriotic or with adventure in their heart to serve the Kingdom was a strong one. While Raignik may have been a deserter of the Imperium, he did have a love for the Kingdom. His travels had shown him the beauty that can lie within it's stone walls and within in simple lives...a kind of beauty worth protecting. So he would do what he must.
With a sudden thrill of alarm, Raignik deftly stepped behind a large fellow in leathers to avoid the gaze of two Altheiri. He allowed himself a small laugh at his own expense. The Imperium was vast and his desertion years old, what are the odds they would still be searching for him? If indeed they were ever searching at all.
Shrugging his shoulders he meandered deeper into the crowded Hall, it was as though the same impulse to heed the call of the Chancellor, drew him further into the crowd.
Wearily Raignik cast one look up at the Altheiri, and then to the Thrones. “I was sane once,” he murmured, “so this had better be worth a hand in the flame.”
With that last Raignik drew up one of his scarves to cover his nose. He never liked the smell of sulfur.
He had entertained the thought of ignoring the summons. Hell, he had embraced the idea, busying himself with other things; odd jobs here and there, hazy nights of drinking and bleary-eyed mornings. What was Ren to him now, after all? Just a sour reminder of a life spent in error. He had turned his back on the Imperial city long ago and saw little reason to reconsider.
Yet here he was, in the shadow of those massive doors, scowling at the greeter.
The stench hit him even before entering the hall, and for the last time he considered abandoning the whole affair. He had, he told himself, truly tried to ignore the councils summons. Yet each job he took brought him closer to Ren. He had told himself that it was nothing more than coincidence. It meant nothing. Whether he truly believed that, even he did not know. Arriving only this morning, an escort in the temporary employee of a traveling merchant, he had decided to at least take a look. And now, standing upon those steps he sighed, “Can’t fight fate.”
With that he entered the grand hall. He was at first surprised that no one had demanded his weapons be turned over. It’s not as if the large pick on his back would have been overlooked. But as his eyes adjusted to the light within he saw that many of those gathered bore arms. Interesting, at least. Scanning the room, he noted the archers, wandering guards and the currently unoccupied thrones. And a familiar face.
“I’d recognize those scrawny arms anywhere,” he said, clapping a meaty hand on Raignik’s shoulder.
He had given his prayers to his Goddess during the darkess hours of night. Secluded to darkness and mind at ease, he was one with night and he heard the his beloved Goddess whispering to his ears, teasing and cursing, demanding and praying, toying with his mind and he accepted it all. Vision and hallucinations were thrilling his senses and sight, telling of story or events in future... what might it be, he didn´t know. He would meet someone familiar face... and the gears of fate had begun to turn
The letter he had received and summoning him to attend to meeting of High Chancellors. Dressing and wearing his rope, made from the finest materials and colored in black, he was ready. His bag on his side, he begin to his journey towards meeting
Upon setting his steps inside the grand hall, he noticed two man already waiting. Altheiri, famous archers were standing ready with their bows. However, the thing which took his mind was the design and beauty of the room. The black marble floor was something, which looked exactly worthy for his Goddess. Reflection like finest mirror. He was blending to it. Where the floor ended and the man begin, was no easy to say, so perfectly did his robe blend with it.
Five oversized thrones just earned glanze from him as he saw them. Only fools would achieve something like that when the true terror and ruling was in the art of controlling someone mind and body... let them believe you and earn their trust than show your might be standing above them. Nevertheless, his eyes diverted from all of this as he paid his attention to men in grand hall. Vision occurred again, now pulse-like, something passed in his mind and went but for him, it seemed like the black marble floor was like ocean, weawing around and spirals were spreading under their legs to all direction...
And the wheel of fate has turned Arwin spoke to air and walked towards the men
At first contact Raignik’s hand automatically darted from his side to brush his sword hilt. The words spoken were mere fractions behind in registering and his consciousness was able to suppress an age-old instinct.
He turned to look up at the large man whom he used to call commander.
The first thing he noted, much to his surprise (more at himself for noticing) was that Marcy didn’t reek of alcohol. Of course it would be hard to say in truth, given the strong smells filling the room.
“It’s good to see you sir.” Raignik turned to face him, offering his fore-arm in greeting to his old friend, “I’ve been looking for a long time.” He suppressed the instinct to salute, his concerns about the Altheiri and other guardsmen still fresh on his mind.
Raignik gave pause, glancing at the large weapon his commander had. His eyes then fell to the others entering the room, and a man ghosting forward on a black cloak, mirrored in the floor— something about his motion caused Raignik’s hackles to rise. His free hand drifted back to rest upon the hilt of his sword, but he forced his eyes back to Marcy.
With one last quick check around the room Raignik leaned in and in a hushed voice added, “If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here sir? Rumor has it you left this kind of work.” Rumor had also spoken of a Mercenary who loosely fit Marcy’s description, but the world was vast and up until now it had all been vague hope to Raignik. Perhaps the rumors were true.
"Lookin' for me?" Marcy grins at the thought. "The way I hear it the whole damned army's looking for you. You sure got some balls showing up here, kid."
Catching Raignik's gaze, Marcy turns to look at those entering the hall. He immediately picks out the cloaked figure heading their way. The man had the look of a religious type. Those were the worst in Marcy's experience; always with some cause or another. Give a man something worth dying for and they get a fair bit more dangerous, he thought. "Friend of yours?" he asks casually, turning his back to the approaching man to face Raignik again. His hand moved with thoughtless ease to the dagger hilt at his belt.
"If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing here sir?"
"That's a damned good question. Been asking myself the same thing." He pauses, apparently considering the question, or, perhaps, just debating whether any further answer was worth the effort. Finally, with a slight shake of his head, he adds, "Apparently Karone is f*cking with me again. But what about yourself? Taking a hell of a chance coming back here, aren't you?"
Raignik lowered his scarf and let a small wry smile crack his lips, after a wash of concern played across his features, “Perhaps Karone has her hands in more than we suspect.” He commented simply.
Marcy was right of course. Raignik's presence here was unwise… And perhaps to his old CO his nervousness showed-- he made an effort to sound relaxed, “And you never know…Old wounds can be forgotten.” Raignik knew from firsthand experience, the Imperium rarely forgot.
It was good to see Marcy again, and he had much he wished to discuss with the man. Questions he wanted answers to-- if Marcy left the service because he had grown tired of taking orders, tired of giving them…or because the guilt had grown too large. The questions swirled inside Raignik’s head and swam on the surface of his eyes.
But a crowded room full of imperial agents and strangers was not the spot to discuss such things. His gaze fell back upon the darkly garbed figure approaching them, “As for that one,” Raignik spoke in level tones, his eyes grown sharp, “No, I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.” It became clear that whoever it was, was heading in their direction.
Slowly closing towards men, Arwin head and face shadowed, covered under the heavy hood. Coming closer as he reveals his hands to show nothing on them.
Stopping to front of them and raising his hands next to his hood, bringing it down. A face is revealed: short, black hair, perfect nose, characteristic of face little bit rough and blue eyes
Smiling and then opening his mouth to speak Nice to meet you, fellow men. My name is Arwin and just a humble man of gods. I have been summoned here by High Chancellors, apparently for some cause. Maybe because of my travelings and knowledge of the world, but I don´t see that as such a big credit to man like myself. May I assume that you also have been summoned here by them? If so, I hope we can come along and his smile reveals white teeth... while small black dot passes through his eyes and the aura around him is... strange
Marcy looked at the ex-soldier skeptically, but not without a trace of humor. "Yeah, let by-gones be by-gones. That's the Imperium's motto all right," he remarked dryly. Perhaps he wasn't really being helpful. He could sense Raignik's anxiety, well hidden though it was. There was nothing to be done for that now, however. Either they would recognize the half-elf and take him away, or they wouldn't. No use worrying about it.
He was about to say something to that effect when the stranger arrived, and, as Marcy had feared, stopped to speak to them. He turned to face the newcomer with a resigned expression. As Arwin spoke, he used the time to appraise the man's appearance. Young. And short. Yet there was something unsettling about the man...
"Let's get one thing straight," Marcy said, when the cleric had finished his introduction. "We aren't interested in converting, or making any sort of donation to your church if that's where you're hoping to go with this. As to joining forces..." He left that thought hanging, noncommittally, and looked sidelong at his friend. He said nothing to Raignik, but the look in his eye spoke for him. Specifically, "Where do they find these people?"
Looking at the man who speaks to him. Older than him and for surely taller. Listening calmly his speaking and smiling as he came to talk about converting and donation. Keeping his face passive and not letting emotion show, Arwin locked his eyes to this man and just watched intensively and let him finish talking. Not commenting anything for a while, but then breaking the silence and laughing Ahah, well indeed. Do not fear, I am not here to convert or to ask for donation. Merely to talk and chat as I was invited. However, some of the people have heard the call of my... Goddess you may say, but never I force them to it. They all come in their own... good believe and is welcomed with open arms. Nevertheless, that is that and this is this. [i]and as he answers while smiling, not everything was told or the meaning was somehow vague
Standing and waiting for the High Chancellors to come and finally tell why they were summoned here, Arwin looks curiously at men Oh, I never heard your name or your friend. I apologize for my intrusion, but I would like to know more about people, who my companion later. The world is vast and it never harm you to know more Bowing little bit and nodding his head, the darkness seemed to be deeper or his shadow seemed to be moving, but who knows
Draig wanted nothing to do with an Imperial city building. If it weren't for his orders to come to Ren, he would never be here.
Its not the city crime that bothers him, the "No weapons ordinances" sound more like a twisted joke; the first brigands to draw steel on him wouldn't even have the gods to save themselves.
Draig had spent most of the day under subterfuge and even invisibility because of the city's law. He knew that if they captured him as a mage in the city, it would probably mean death.
He had heard the cities call shortly after he entered town, in one of the district squares. This was his chance to gain valuable information for Trydan, and even a little coin; or at least maybe a little revenge.
Even now he kept quiet and his face low to avoid unwanted attention. Content in looking interested in the conversations of those around him. The passage of time was slow and tense; with every minute more of his fear was replaced with resentment for the city of Ren.
Looking around the compound at the hundreds of heros that have gathered looking for anyone familiar. My companion Azara at my side. Knowing that the only reason I am here is for Kri, trying to find any advantage that can be used against the Empire if and when it is needed.
Not Rolling for some reason?
Xandar stepped out of the shadows of the grand hall where he had been lurking. He swept across the room silently his footfalls soundless on the black marble floor. The air around him seemed to still as he passed, walking directly towards a group of adventurers exchanging introductions.
For one as young as he was there was an overwhelming intensity about him, the purposefullness of his stride, the intensity in his dark eyes displaying a sense of tremendous perspective one would not expect from one his age.
His eyes narrow at the sight of the dark priest his head inclining slightly as her comes to a stop near the group.
"May the shadows guard your steps."
Looking at Sœkja, wondering if she prepared the right spells for this occasion. This could get hairy quick.
"You realize for all we know this could be a trap setup to grab and tag all the magic users they can get who are undocumented."
With concern etched across her face she shakes her head in disgust breathing air out through her nostrils slowly.
"How did I ever get involved in this."
Still looking over the crowd intently.
"If trouble comes we will be ready."
Laying his hand on hers in comfort.
"This way I see an old friend"
Heading towards Draig.
A holy man… That would certainly explain his oddness. The way he spoke seemed to call for Raignik’s attention. Not the patterns or the oddness necessarily, but the ease. Here the man in black was in a room full of armed men, some righteous and others cut throat—completely unarmed. It boggled the mind… But Raignik had seen stranger certainly… And religious fervor could make a man confident just about nearly anything.
He glanced at Marcy but pushed the obvious question aside. He needed to know more about this man before agreeing to join forces.
“I’m afraid I didn’t get your name either Priest.” Raignik replied in soft tones. It didn’t seem that this man meant them any harm, but he couldn’t imagine why the Chancellor would summon a Priest to a call-to-arms (as that seemed to be what this was).
It was before Raignik could continue that they were joined by another-- A Younger man with a hunter’s stride, and a presence hard to ignore.
The young man greeted the priest in ritual.
But he seemed too young to be a man of the cloth…And indeed his presence too akin to a predator’s. But Raignik had been wrong before.
Rather than interrupt the meeting of these two Raignik fell to silence. Giving Marcy a barely visible shrug he moved his hand off of his sword. If these men were here to cause trouble they would have done so by now. Rarely do assassins open with pleasantries.
Openly looking around the room Raignik was starting to feel, for the first time at ease. With odd ones such as these around perhaps the guardsmen wouldn't have time to look for an old deserter.
Indeed, it seemed that much bigger things were brewing.
The room began to divide amongst itself as strangers came together from all walks of life. Amidst the aromas blending together in the air, old allies were reunited and new bonds of friendship were formed. It becomes noticeably quieter in the room as conversations begin to die down. All laughter and bemusement seems to soften as the large gong of a bell supercedes the dialogue present in the Grand Hall. As all heads turn towards the source, five individuals step forward into sight upon the podium. Only four of them proceed to seat themselves. The fifth one remains standing.
"Trusted patriots of the lands of Aris - many of you are probably wondering why a grand summons was issued from this council to all citizens of this land. Many of you have come of your own accord this is true. Some of you have come in regards to the 100,000 Gold Pieces offered for assistance. Some of you have come out of the sheer patriotism in your hearts, a much nobler cause in the grand scheme of things. I will bring haste to my words though, friends, for I do not wish to waste valuable time."
"The kingdom of Ren is in peril. Enemies from within seek to tear down its precious walls and burn its lands. Traitorous vagabonds are inciting rebellion amongst our fair people and they are attempting to amass an army capable of destroying the republic we have spent so many hundreds of years building. This new enemy has no face. This new enemy has no name. This new enemy is dangerous beyond all recognition. This is why myself and the other Chancellors decided to send out a call-to-arms to all adventurers. Whether you have come for gold, glory, or honor, you have come. For that alone, the Council and us Chancellors extend the greatest gratitude awarded to guardians of Ren. We are asking you to risk your very lives in service to your kingdom and its people. We are asking you to solve the mystery of this rebellion. We are asking you to discover that which we could not. We are asking you to do the honorable thing."
"Some of you in here may not be as honorable. Some of you could very well be the enemies we are fighting so hard against. If you are, know this, the free nations of Ren and its neighboring allies will not go silently into the night! We will not give in to tyranny and the fear that you breed with your lies. We will fight and we will win!"
Many in the crowd cheer for their High Chancellor. Many agree.
"Those who accept this most epic of quests will be accomodated and the one who captures the leader of the rebellion and turns him over to Imperial authorities within the Arisan High Command will be rewarded beyond their wildest imaginations. Those who seek to accept this daring task may do so from just outside these walls where the Imperial Hunter's Guild has set a kiosk housing the Writs necessary for the given task. Thank you."
And with that the High Chancellor turns and takes his seat. Immediately the hall explodes with more conversations - all of them focusing on the turn of events. Talks of wealth and riches. Talks of fame and glory. Talks of simply having a challenge. Each man in the Hall now has a reason all his own to take up arms against this resistance.
Noticing the young man striding towards them with confidence and with ease. The sound or rather missing the sound of him walking showed him to be more experienced and look of predator. Time had passed since the last time he had seen him. Stopping closeby and giving his greting"May the shadows guard your steps."
Turning his head and looking at young man. Smiling, he speaks My the night be day to you and darkness consume your enemies as he completes the ritual.
Turning to another man, apparently younger than his friend and before he is able to answer, The High Chancellors steps in and meeting had begun
"Those who accept this most epic of quests will be accomodated and the one who captures the leader of the rebellion and turns him over to Imperial authorities within the Arisan High Command will be rewarded beyond their wildest imaginations. Those who seek to accept this daring task may do so from just outside these walls where the Imperial Hunter's Guild has set a kiosk housing the Writs necessary for the given task. Thank you."
Listening the speech and not showing emotion, Arwin had alot to think. With these promises, he had the chance to advance and change, even to shape this nation as he wished! The visions had grown stronger in recent years, but he didn´t have enough strenght, power or wisdom yet to understand them all oompletely. This chance was once in a lifetime... he could not let it pass
Turning his eyes back to man, who had asked his name before the meeting had started Hm... I suppose it was noisy here, since already told my name to your friend, but it won´t harm me second time. Arwin, humble servant of the Goddess. My skills lays on merely conversation, knowledge of the various subjects and things, whether it was astrology, nature, geography or something else. Somekind scholar you could say as he releases small laugh but guiding lost souls back to Her gentle arms. That aside, that surely was interesting introduction and promises of wealth. I am little bit interested on it, if I care to say, since so many things could be... requested or demanded if the quest were to completed speaking in merry-tune and chatting away, but something deeper meanings passes through his words. Not everything is told and some of the things were left vague
“My apologies Priest Arwen, perhaps my hearing isn’t what it used to be.” Raignik inclined his head as a sign of respect. It was becoming apparent to Raignik that this priest had his own agenda. He reminded him greatly of a man who was in on a very special secret. Perhaps he knew something about the Rebels that apparently plagued the country. “I cannot say I’ve traveled with a Priest before, but perhaps it is time for a change,” giving it some thought Raignik decided to hold out his hand in a gesture of friendship for the man (he was not well versed in proper conduct with holy men).
With a small release of breath he decided to take a chance albeit in a lowered voice, “My name is Raignik Al-N’Gaseer. Currently a mercenary by trade...My skills…vary…Suffice to say I’m useful in a fight, and not useless out of one.”
If Karone wanted him dead, all it would take would be for the wrong ears to hear the right name… now would be her time to strike.
In lieu of the recent proclamation made however, Raignik doubted anyone was listening.
Marcy listened to the high councilors speech in stoic silence. His face was an emotionless mask, by and large. Only at the mention of ‘honor’ did his brow arch slightly. They loved to speak of honor, he knew. Even as they stripped the freedom from innocent civilians and carted them off to undeserved judgment they spoke of it. And a soldier would do nearly anything for a bit of colored ribbon. The gods knew he had. But honor was a pipe dream, and that particular drug no longer worked on him..
Coins, on the other hand… 100,000 would buy a hell of a lotta good times. And he knew the need for adventure was in his blood. This was something he no longer bothered to deny. Yet another addiction, he mused.
As the speech drew to a conclusion and the conversation of the crowd began to swell around him, Marcy took a short draw on his wine skin and scrutinized those around him. It appeared that Raignik was making peace with the priest. This drew a curious look from Marcy. Too quick to trust, he thought. Or was he too slow to trust? He had, of course, worked with strangers before. But protecting a caravan from inept highwaymen was one thing. This was serious business here. Trusting in some fool priest you had just met was bad for your life expectancy. At least the man wasn’t pushy like many of his ilk tended to be. One point in his favor. Neither was he timid. Okay, two points then.
“Marcy,” he said resignedly, by way of introduction. He looked the priest in the eye as he offered a brief handshake. There was something off in that man’s gaze, he noted. He could sense it (or was he imagining it) but couldn’t put his finger on it.
As the next man approached their little group, the ex-ward turned his eye upon him. Another man of the cloth? Marcy was unsure, but at least this one looked like he had some muscle on him, young though he was.
Seeing Raignik little bit hesitate and then offering his hand to shake, something he didn´t expect but then world was full of people who didn´t have same amount of knowledge or experience. Arwin smile getting bigger and firmly grapping to hand and shaking it Nice to meet you Raignik. Oh, and please, Arwin is just fine enough with me. Formalities are left for business or in this case, talking with gods or someone is asking for audience. I have intention to preach... at least not yet as he made the small joke and small laugh escaped his lips.
Noticing the gaze of other person and his way of judgin him, Arwin didn´t pay attention to it. Many did the same thing and regretted it later, since he one with darkness. Those who stare in the deepest tunnel... have to expect that someone might be watching back. Turning to him and accepting his handshake and just saying his name. Looking at his eyes and smiling Nice to meet you, Mercy. There is need for many people... and everyone have their purpose. Releasing hands and looking now well to both of them. They seemed to be seasonal warriors and both of them had this taint... hard to say what, but he was not to be fooled. He knew it the moment he saw them. The "night" had fallen. A small, almost unnoticeable grin appearing slowly to his face, he was enjoying this. Turning gaze towards now the man, apparently inquisitor of his church. I see it as a good sign, to notice also inquisitor of Cerelia to appear to this event... brother Xandaras the knowing smile passed on his face. For a brief moment, it seemed like a shadow had reached from inside his robe next to his ears and disappeared.