Fable - Ask Lords of Dust

[Ivan Skender]

Tell Arran - The Empire

It was intriguing perhaps, how sometimes the smallest, seemingly most insignificant of events could have the deepest repercussions down the line.

In Tell Arran, for instance, it had been rather surprising how the death of a small silk merchant some months prior had played into the already deeply-seated misgivings about the newly-forged Empire and its perceived neglect of the periphery to foster a full-blown mutiny.

While such events, occurring in a backwater such as this, would normally have been dismissed by the world at large, the Arrani had the relative misfortune of living close enough to the Anirian border that such happenings in their lives were of note to its Southern neighbour.

The city itself was difficult to access, laying at the heart of a mountainous massif that rose as an offshoot of the Fel Draza range further to the southeast. Surrounded by narrow gorges, insurmountable peaks, and arid wilderness, teeming with hostile tribes of sand elves, Tell Arran was not exactly a place it was easy to keep tabs on. So much so in fact, that rumours of these rebellions had taken months to reach Vel Anir, just next door.

Still, for all its remoteness, the settlement still commanded incredible strategic importance, laying on the narrow pass that connected Aniria proper to the Empire to the north. This had made it into something of a commercial hub for those courageous, or shrewd, enough to brave the craggy passes of the mountains.

It had been this mix of strategic and economic value that had prompted Vel Anir to send a small detachment to assess, and act on, the recent - or maybe not so recent - events that had transpired within the fortified settlement.

With a mission to investigate, make contact, and - should the situation favour such an approach - play the power-brokers of Tell Arran to secure a friendly government in the city, a group of initiates had been assigned to the mountain settlement.

Considering his recent successful foray into these lands, Ivan had been among those handpicked for this mission. Riding at the head of the small Anirian grouping, astride Naspie, the black camel he had… acquired during his first visit to the Tell Arran, the blonde had been rather eager for this assignment. Not only was it a great opportunity for advancement - due to the great responsibility placed upon the initiates - but also it was a chance to get away from the smothering embrace of the Academy. For while the border was close, Aniria itself was far away and difficult to reach, which meant that, while they were to be stationed here, they would be completely and fully on their own.

His mount, for one, seemed to share in his eagerness, its contentment to be back home rather evident in its gleeful bleating as they approached the reddish-brown walls of Tell Arran.

- “We should find shelter the moment we get into the city.” - He told his comrades. - “Our last intel from the city is from months ago." - He continued. - "Better set up camp somewhere first to try and figure out what's happened since ." -​

 

[Rhidian]

"Shame Quinnick ain't here to exercise her Kaliti. I am so awful with the language." Rhidian grimaced, riding astride Ivan on his own equine steed. It seemed his experience in growing up in a family that served the Guard and going through the training for six months before active duty gave the figure heads of this mission the idea to sigh up Rhidian to keeping order in this bordering city.

He had heard Ivan speak of the adventure he had taken last he was here, Livia assisting him. He knew after hearing it all that he wouldn't follow Skender into any ruin or let him touch anything.

"Fuck, and I thought the Savannah was hot... this heat is something else." He wiped his face down with his light layered sleeves, eager to bathe and get some rest as soon as he could. "Got any contacts to ask around or we doing this the old fashioned way, going door to door and hoping they can speak Common or Anirian?" The former more likely than the latter.

 

[Ivan Skender]

Shame Quinnick ain't here to exercise her Kaliti. I am so awful with the language.​

Naspie the camel let out a bleat that almost made it seem as though the beast agreed with the other initiate. Ivan couldn't blame either, really. He had heard Rhidian's... attempt at speaking Kaliti, and suffice to say his respect for his comrade had not improved following that display.

But alas, they were not there to test their conversational skills, but rather their subterfuge ones.

- "No, we're going in blind." - He replied to Rhidian. - "We had one contact that stopped reporting a few weeks ago, and even then, the intel we had from before is months old by now." - And they would both know that, when it came to a city at war, a matter of mere weeks could feel like ages as far as information was concerned.

That was especially true here, in Tell Arran, where - if rumours were to be believed - power brokers and ambitious kingmakers switched sides and shifted their allegiances with about as much frequency as the breezes changed directions.

- "I would also avoid approaching people, if it can be helped, and especially not in Anirian." - Though a fair time of travel away, beyond the mountains, Aniria was still Tell Arran's most important neighbour. The issue with this was, of course, as the elves of the Falwood could attest to, that having Vel Anir right next door was not something that inspired confidence in anyone.

- "Last time I was here there were a bunch of abandoned houses throughout the city," - He continued. - "We can try to locate one, and make it our headquarters." -

He then glanced over his shoulder, to the rest of the Anirian group.

- "We should split up here." - He told two other initiates. - "You two go East, survey the mountains, and then join us back in Arran. We need to know if something's about to come out of those hills." -

With a head nod, the two pulled the reins of their mounts and changed course, heading towards a lateral path that led up the steep slopes all around them.

As they disappeared behind a tall rock formation, Ivan pulled his hood up, so as to hide his straw-blonde hair, and urged Naspie forward, towards the gates of the city.

Rhidian​

 

[Rhidian]

Rhidian watched as the two Initiates didn't make a fuss at Skender giving them an order, moving towards the east.

"Alright then, somewhere to base our order of operations." He leaned back, hand grasping at the haphazardly folded map he stuff in his saddle bag. "Quinnick drew these up. Updated with the last reports too..." And she had made plenty of notes in the margins of best places to station themselves for defensive reasons. He wondered to himself if she should have tagged along, but the Compass was deemed too important for another mission. And thus, they lost someone that spoke Kaliti.

"There's apparently a goldsmith workshop and shopfront in one building. Has a vault, but the business has moved on." Rhid recalled the reports he had read, the very same ones Ivan mentioned. A lot of fmailies and business decided to move further into the Empire, as if they would still be protected there. "A vault can act as a cell, right? Just in case, of course."

Was that possibly a good place to stake a claim on?

 

[Ivan Skender]

- "Mhmm." - He muttered absent-mindedly. He recalled the place. The two of them - him and Livia, that was - had planned to rob it before Quinnick's magics had led them to an even more conspicuous target instead, the first time he'd been to Tell Arran.

In whichever case, the idea was good. The vault could indeed come in handy, while the building's previous use as a goldsmith meant that there was always a chance its former owners could've left some gold behind in their hurry to leave the city.

- "Sounds like a plan." - He said, before shifting his gaze to the gates of the walled city that drew nearer and nearer in front of them.

- "But first we need to get there." - Taking into account the... delicate nature of their mission, the last thing they needed was to stir a mess by the main gate of the city.

In all fairness, he was not entirely sure what to expect upon entering Tell Arran. Though dealing with civil disturbances was a rather common aspect of being an initiate, infiltrating a city-state at war with itself was - in his mind at least - another matter entirely.

That being said, this part of the city did seem eerily quiet. The road was deserted, the settlement immersed in sepulchral silence and the gates were... they were... deserted?

He rubbed his eyes to make sure the scorching sun was not playing pranks on his eyesight, nor on his mind, but no, there were indeed no guards at the entrance.

- "Keep your eyes peeled." - He told Rhidian.​

 

[Rhidian]

Rhidian looked away from the map, stowing it without too much gentle care, but set his sights on the gates before them.

"Take it that it was never this quiet last you were here." His recount of people and trade, armed guards, none of it could help him envision the border city be as what Ivan had spoke about. That had been months ago! "Reckon we can just stroll in, not say a word?"

He could see where he would station men and numbers along the battlements, how he could stop any advancing enemies.... but no movement from above gave indication they would be stopped. And so his eyes fell to the opened gates, trying to see if anyone was being stopped as they entered, to see if any sign of contact would be made by any Kaliti people.

But with Rhidian and Ivan leading, the group of Initiates strode on through.

 

[Sybille]

Sybille sat quietly in the corner of the small outdoor tavern. Her leg kicked up and down at a constant rate, gently shaking the tea which sat on the table in front of her. Outwardly she tried to appear as calm and dispassionate as possible, her eyes watching the gate opposite her with a quiet distaste as though it were the most droll thing she could possibly have been put in front of.

Truth was though, her chest was a knot of anxiety.

It had been almost three days now since Os had left to head east and meet up with the others. The plan had been for him to be gone for nearly a week, but Sybille never much liked being alone. With the recent troubles Tell Arran had been the perfect place for their stopover, but now that she was waiting by herself she couldn't help the nerves which slowly frayed within her mind.

She wasn't worried about herself, of course. Her magic made sure she was safe. Her concern was for Osbert. They hadn't been apart for this long since…since they'd met, and the thought of something happening to him made the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

That was why she was sitting here.

Why, even four days before he was scheduled to come back she had planted herself at this bar and simply watched for his arrival.

It was stupid. She knew, but in truth there wasn't much else for her to do. If it she wasn't sitting and waiting here, then she would be sitting and waiting at the small apartment they had taken for themselves. At least watching the gate soothed some of her anxiety, even if Os wasn't going to appear for another week. Watching the flow of people was somehow comforting, calming.

Until she saw a familiar face in the crowd.

Eyebrows sprung up almost immediately as she spotted him. Her gaze drilling into his features as she checked every memory she had. The former Initiate couldn't recall his name, but he'd been at the Academy, Sybille was sure of it. Younger than her, but he'd been there. She could still remember his cocky nature on the training fields as classes had swapped.

Quickly her eyes darted to the others who clearly rode at his side. Two, she didn't recognize, but the fourth was just as familiar.

Her lips pressed to a thin line. Vel Anir is making a move.

Sybille thought to herself, anxiety slipping away as her mind began to work. Lip quirking in a smile. Realizing very quickly that an Anirian presence her might be very helpful to her and Os. Reaching into her pocket, Sybille pulled out a small copper coin. Tossing it onto the table and leaving her tea untouched as she set off after the Anirians.

 

[Ivan Skender]

- "No." - He replied to Rhidian's remark. The city had indeed not been this quiet then. Though locals still strolled through the streets, shopkeepers plied their businesses, and some customers even took the warm embrace of this sunny day to get some shopping done before re-entering their homes, something was amiss. Gone were the hustle and bustle of the merchants of Tell Arran, as were the loud-mouthed salesmen, or the cheerful squeals of the street urchins. As he looked around, Ivan could only see a handful of passers-by timidly running from shop to shop, as though they wished their presence would pass unnoticed. Something was not right.

Though Ivan appeared normal to the untrained eye, his Anirian comrades would notice a perceptible change of posture, as his muscles tensed, and his usually relaxed semblant hardened into a forced neutral expression.

- "Let's try to do that." - He said without facing his colleagues, his ice-grey gaze instead fixed on the dwellings that rose up the slope of the mountain, as well as on the great towers of the kasbah beyond. - "But no stopping here, we make straight for the goldsmith." -

Something was not right.

Indeed - unbeknownst to the initiates - something had not been right in Tell Arran for the past few days. Maybe Sybille had also missed it on her end, being so enraptured by her own anxiety that she could've been forgiven for missing the tension that bubbled away just beneath the surface of the entire city.

It was subtle at times; a brusque cut-off here, a curtly reply there, and how everyone seemed to throw a dissimulated look over their shoulder every now and again, as though they expected something to happen at a moment's notice. The signs were subtle, yes, but they had been there. What Sybille had experienced over the past few days, and what the newly-arrived Anirians were experiencing right now was not the war-torn Tell Arran of the rumours, but rather the city as it prepared for something bigger. Something everyone knew was coming, and that lay just around the corner.

The deep breath before the plunge.

And so it was that, as the blonde relentlessly scanned his surroundings for any little, negligible sign of trouble, there came the one ultimate warning nobody in that city could ignore.

From the heights the beating of drums bellowed all of a sudden, submerging the city in their deafening roar as they echoed past the great medina of Tell Arran and off the peaks above. Horns rang aloud, and thundering cries of war clamoured in Kaliti from somewhere else in the city.

Immediately, all around them, the locals fled for safety. Shopkeepers shuttered their stores, shoppers slunk into the side streets, disappearing into the shadows of the narrow alleyways, and even the tavern where Sybille had been seating just moments ago locked its doors, though not before an elderly waitress had gone outside to retrieve the cup of tea the redheaded Anirian had left untouched on the table.

His heart racing, and his hand clutching the hilt of his sword as tightly as he could, Ivan was about to call for a retreat out of the city when their situation became even more precarious. From behind them, originating from the battlements, and from within the cramped houses and shacks that lined up against the walls of the city, another round of high-flown war cries rose.

And then the arrows flew.

- "Cover!" - He bellowed to the other initiates as an arrow whistled past him to imbed itself in the mudbrick wall behind, just centimetres away from the head of his beloved black camel.

Sybille Rhidian​

 

[Rhidian]

He felt it as soon as they walked past the gates, the thickness in the air and how the locals seemed to scurry as if they knew something was to come. It reminded him of the field mice back home, how they could feel the vibrations in the earth to tell them to hide.

Rhidian felt the air shift before the war cries reached their ears.

He turned to look at Skender, seeing his hand reach for his sword as Rhid also made a move for his dual swords, but changed course as soon as the ruckus sounded from above. The first volley of arrows missed them, but he had been ready for the next. His hands charged with magic and pushed out against the space of air between the Initiates and the arrows trained towards their path, disrupting their descent upon them. Shockwaves seemed to put a few on the battlements on unsteady feet, and that gave Rhidian time to look around and assess the situation.

"All exits blocked." He retrieved one sword, leaving a hand free to use his magic in case they needed to fight off more projectiles. "I can't even detonate without fear of hurting innocents." He could take down the battlements, put rubble between them and the enermy line coming their way.

Sybille Ivan Skender

 

[Sybille]

WHY?!

Why did this always happen, every time. This was exactly why she had left Vel Anir with Os and the others. It seemed that wherever Anirians went, violence followed quickly after.

Not that Sybille really minded violence. Her natural magics meant she was harder to hurt than most others, but the chaos and unpredictability of these situations sent her nerves on edge. If she didn't think the fools could help her and Os, then she would have just walked away and let them turn this city into another warzone.

Instead though, Sybille cursed herself and charged into the frey.

Half a dozen arrows struck around her as she recklessly charged into the street. Her steps dancing around the pointed bolts as they struck the ground around her. One finding only the briefest purchase upon her skin, rending her alabaster flesh but revealing not the crimson of blood, but instead a splatter of magma. It cast against the ground, hissing and sending a look of confusion across the face of the attackers who noticed the injury.

”Hey!” Sybille shouted to Ivan, Rhidian, and the others.

Her voice booming loud enough to be heard over the chaos.

”This way!” She called to them as she waved and pointed them to a short alleyway just beside her. Though she'd only been in town for a few days, Sybille had made sure to know every exit and rat tunnel in the place. A way to stem her own anxieties, and something she was not blissfully thankful for. Trust me

This time Sybille did not speak the word, but instead quickly flickered her fingers in the sign language all Dreadlords were taught.