Completed Heavy are the burdens of apostates

White Swallow

The White Swallow of Narra
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An impromptu crowd has happened on the main square of Jaleyaana. People from all around the desert were caught up in the midst of it all. Whether they came from as far as Maraan or as close as Elbion. Here it was always advised to keep a low profile if not of the right faith, whether you believed in Kalik or the Celestials. None others were permitted.
All trading, conversing, exploring and living has come to a halt.


A man has died a thousand times.
Born of dust and died as stone.
Born as water and died as air.
Born as plant and died as soil.
Born as beast and died as bone.

A row of men was led atop a pedestal. Quietly they murmured. Their white dresses bloodied and ragged, their heads hung low, covered in ruffled hair.
Their eyes sunken and without life, glossy and wet only when they tilted their head towards the onlooking crowd neath them. The sun was glaring to them.
Painful.
How many months have they spent in darkness that even the light would punish them so harshly?
The executioners would snap their gaze back in place with the vilest of whips.
The men did not even groan, so numb or drunk of spoiled wine.

A man has truly died a thousand times.

Among the gathered crowd was the White Swallow, dressed as a civilian, with only his warm golden eyes shining through his dark grey robes. By his side his companion in life, the fedayin Nadim Ibn Adil.
»They are lost,« The White Swallow leaned towards his close friend.
»I know, every act has a consequence, every hushurite should've known to leave this dreaded city in time.« Ibn Adil's words rang with contempt.
»We can't save them, but we might still leave a mark for the future...«
Turning towards his friend, the fedayin moved some covert daggers into his sleeves. »You know how to roll your sweet words.«
Ibn Adil's words came with a slight hint of hesitation. There were many things that could go wrong, and it was not advisable to take a mere soldier with him when assassins were up to the task. Yet if he had to die here, if he had to. If the mission was successful or not, it would not and never decide the fate of his.
He trusted the White Swallow more than his men at the gates.

The two exchanged a prolonged stare before the White Swallow sauntered deeper into the still relatively quiet crowds. The fedayin trailed him close behind before separating.
His single form was quick to meld with the many.
 
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In the back of the quiet crowd, a flash. A glint of an Emerald eye refracting off the sunlight and then disappearing.
The lanky feline flinches at the sudden spark of the sun in her eye and proceeds to head closer, inspecting the eerie stillness. Her eyes, met with men standing on a pedestal, faces sunken and lifeless.
With a tilt of her head, she inspects the situation that halted her morning shopping.
Keeping her head low, she awkwardly retreats to the back of the crowd, eyeing her surroundings.
-This can't be right, She murmurs to herself.
Confused with the upcoming demonstration, another flash causes her eyes to squint.
A flash of a small and sharp weapon being transferred into one's sleeves. With a quick jerk, she turns her head away, realizing that she has once again stared for too long.
-Did they see me? She wonders to herself after curiously returning her gaze back to the stranger's position.
The stranger is gone.
She pulls her hood down, concealing a larger fraction of her face.
-Just in case. Her discomfort increases as the tensions stir, waiting.
 
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While the men might have seemingly disappeared, their plot has not.

Up at the tribune, the first man was whipped, his scarred back anew had given to blood, bright red soaking his dirtied white robes.
A first pole was being raised just enough to allow the audience to view the cruelty about to follow.

The first cheer of satisfaction of the crows echoed... »Kill the heathens, «, »crucify the infidels...«
But it was not unanimous.
But to the Swallow, it might have just been.

»Begone caitiff, « a man shoved the White Swallow aside. And the gruff man continued to mumble about irenic people as if there was mercy to be given to the people who simply could not, wished not, did not convert to the only true faith!
The White Swallow grew warier at the possibility to ever stir the people. Perhaps a different audience would be more worthwhile?

Meandering further out, a cat-folk appeared in view, quite larger than those he used to see. A foreigner perhaps?
Still, he tried to spark a conversation, perhaps they'd agree?
»Is this not injustice? A crime against the innocent.«
 
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As the first demonstration began, the feline watched in discomfort, although not showing it. Her instincts aching to burst.
A voice halts her thoughts, causing her to slightly jolt out of her ponder. A man, he had asked something of her. -Focus. She thinks to herself as she acknowledges the man's question.
She returns her gaze to the front, watching the demonstration continue as she calmly replies.
-I am usually one to meddle with things that often other people would consider out of their reach. If this means stopping innocents from being treated like this then I will do so. May it be my business or not.
She hesitates, wondering if she has spoken too much, however deciding to scold herself later.
She returns her gaze to the civilian dressed stranger. Taking on his appearance fully.
-How is your opinion on this?
 
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»Praised be Kalik, there are still good people in liadain. They are murdering poets and philosophers, and what for...for their faith is their only crime?« His voice eased in.
»Of course, I hope things change, but some things must be forced. I wonder how many here sollow the flow when they truly want to swim against the current.«


Further out, the fedayin slithered between the people like a snake among the grass. Between the legs of tired cattle, willing to forget anything smaller than a cat exists.
The crowd seemed to thicken, and the Mulay, Shiys Ibn Seyed seated himself firmly on a throne nearby to observe the execution.
 
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The feline listens, eyes intent, and calculating.
-Poets and philosophers, they truly are mad then.
She once again shifts her gaze as the Mulay takes his seat.
-Look at him, observing this like it's some kind of pleasure.
Her brow furrows as she grits her teeth. She calms herself not wanting to arouse suspicion among the crowd.
-You mentioned people, in appose to person. Have you witnessed others sharing your thoughts? And if so, would you be interested in "forcing change" as you added?
 
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» I come in a mission to force change, a dozen men stand in with my colours and my...friend is to sting where it hurts most, « He leaned closer to the feline to whisper.
» However we may just as well die a torturous death if enough people are not roused to action. I believe most are just blindly following the publically perceived opinion. «


One of the white-robed ones gets kicked over to his knees. The executioner stats picking out his tools.
 
The feline stares in contemplation, looking at the white-robed figure.
-When is your plan to be set in motion?
The felines gleaming eyes motion to the executioner. She whispers to the figure beside her.
-Change will not matter if innocents still die, you're running out of time. I am by your side if needed, but only if there are still people needed to save.
 
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The winds of change had reached The Golems ears in Alliria and they had not lied: the land had again descended into war and chaos, justice in this dark land was truly an enigma. He however saw his duty as to see this regime grow into something resembling a lawful and just society, and if unjust, rip and tear until it was done.

The Golem had rode day and night to reach Amol-Kalit, and what he saw upon reaching it disturbed him.
Hailing the new Guards and going through the outer gate, he could view the impaled and hung bodies of the former guards left striped and mutilated, this did not bode well.

Passing through the inner gate, The Golem could make out a large congregation of what he assumed were the local inhabitants, the large crowd was focused on the gruesome display within the square: the public execution of what seemed to be the previous regime.

Upon approaching the first secured area within the walls, the Golem dismounted his draft horse and tied it's reigns to the outer fence of the local tavern, he moved into the back of the crowd. As he approached, some of the members of this macabre congregation stepped away from the parameter of the rusted behemoth. He was taller than the members of this crowd and was thus able to get an unimpeded view of the necessary affair.
 
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» My friend is here with a different task, I fear there will be no avoiding of shedding blood. «
The swallow briefly stood still, his voice thereafter much brisker. »Do you desire to free the men upon their poles? If so, I'll try rouse the crowd to aid.«
 
The Golem stood and Surveyed the execution from his position in the crowd, the men readying themselves to meet with the celestials were bloodied but unbroken. He could pick out the signs of torture on the men from ages past. Further in the upper pews of the city, he could see the ruler of this city, observing the execution.

It became all to clear that this execution was not done out of order or justice, it was propaganda done out of fear, fear that all tyrants have: that if the populous does not fear them, they will seek a better way, a better man to rule.

The golem deemed this execution unjust and began pushing his way to the front of the crowd, pushing further and further to the execution platform. Upon nearing the front he could see the two guards put in front to discourage any man from intervening, they wore steel chainmail shirts and coifs, topped with steel full-face piked guards caps, they also wore baggy pants and pointed boots, finally they were equipped with short spears, wooded body shields painted with the sigil of their lord, and had gladiuses on their sides.

The guard on the left broke into a full sprint towards the right of the square as soon as he realized that the metal monster was coming right for them, the second trembled but held his spear firm at the approaching terror.
 
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The feline nods in understanding although still contemplating her upcoming task. She does not show it. A commotion in the square catches her ears as her eyes follow. A guard breaking into a sprint as a gigantic metal monster looms over a second guard. Her eyes widen as her jaw suddenly drops.
-May the luck be on your side. She says as she swerves towards the pedestal, knives flashing in her palms.
 
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One of the white-robed ones got kicked onto the wooden beam, his body to be tied against the pole and his hands to be broken by the elbow. Yet the executioner briefly averted his gaze from the to-be-executed.

Was that a golem? All eyes, even that of the crowd peered onto the behemoth of man in brazen-like plate.

The white swallow would have spoken back, but the feline person already disappeared within the crowd. May Kalik guide you, he thought to himself.

It was all happening too fast, but perhaps this was perfect. The people seemed as to begin to stir.
»This will be your reckoning, cruel Jaleyaana, free the unjust! FREE THE UNJUST! « It wasn't even clear anymore from where the voice came.
 
The Golem approached the guard who quickly tried to thrust his short spear into the Golem. In a quick movement the golem grabbed the end of the short spear with his left hand and snapped it at the wooded shaft, in response the guard quickly tried to reach for his sheathed gladius, but the Golem grabbed him by the head with his right hand, the guard let out a muffled roar of terror. The Rusted Giant crushed his unarmored wrist with his left hand before throwing him to the dust. The Guard quickly scampered away.

The Golem had dealt with the guard just in time to catch the steel etched maul coming for his head by the shaft with his left hand. The executioner, robed in ceremonial blood red robes that covered his face and body, frozen by the realization of his impending doom. The Golem did not hesitate, he quickly unsheathed his longsword with his right hand, cleaving through the forearm of the executioner, turning the blade he cleaved through the executioners' right leg at the shin. He fell to the ground, the metal monster quickly taking up the executioners' maul before using it to cave in his skull.

The Behemoth stepped on to the execution platform and looked down at the sentenced. They were pale with sunken eyes, old scars and fresh wounds covered what parts of their bodies did show. He considered their options for a moment, his instincts told him they should die for their past crimes, justice told him that they had suffered enough.

He made his decision, he grabbed the first one by the iron manacle's and said only six words with a deep metallic whisper; "You served your sentence long ago." Before breaking the chains binding his hands and ankles. He quickly did the same for the other two, before they ran out the gates together.

He stood on the platform facing away from the congregation, Maul over his shoulder, his longsword in his right hand. Watching as a small regiment of guards rallied in the distance, inching closer and closer in shield wall formation.
 
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The feline sprints, trying to keep her breath steady. Two knives sheathed in her right hand, she flings them at two approaching guards. The knives slice into the guard's knees, dropping down to the ground in agony.
She leaps over the guards snatching her knives back as the guards continue to squirm on the ground behind her. Her eyes search for the poles only to be met by the metal monster, the golem. A brief moment of eye contact after the golem had freed the sentenced. She watches as they run out, averting her eyes to the approaching regiment of guards. She leaps atop one of the poles, knives sheathed. Her gaze wanders to the golem, taking in his gigantic appearance.
 
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The Golem looked on to the approaching guards, paying only a little head to his new feline revolutionary friend. He waited for the word of the revolutions' leader, ready for the assault.
 
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Chaos and blood in the streets - what fun could be had in such dark and lovely times? The kind that paid would be good but Alexios would settle for the kind that put to bed some rumours he had been hearing. Religion was something he was aware of in the same way that an ant was aware what rain was.

He knew it existed and he knew it motivated some people but he didn't care to know any more than that. Religion was just scared people trying to make sense of their finite time in the world and Alexios had come to terms with that some time ago.

Watching as he was from close to a small building, Alexios was able to see a truly mamouth man decide to do something about the executions. Alexios didn't give a rat's ass about those being executed, the reasons for the execution or why the big man took exception to them either.

The crowd were beginning to panic in some cases. In most cases though? They got angry. Some were angry in favour of the execution and some were angry against it. Oh the atmosphere was turning deadly and Alexios was keen to get ahead of it. Climbing to the rooftop of the building he had been resting beside, Alexios began to gather his wits and his magic about him.

Flames flickered across his fingers as he drew upon the power. There were guards approaching and they were very helpfully in formation...

They may as well have been candle wicks.

Launching a twisting ball of flames the size of his skull at the centre of the formation of guards, he twisted his hands in mid-flight and the tightly controlled element of the magic broke down and with it, the control over the shape of the compact fires.

The sphere he had launched burst apart like an over-ripe melon, raining fire down upon the guards from just above their heads. He grinned as their formation began to falter and break as more than a few of them broke ranks to try and deal with the fact that they were suddenly on fire.

He waved jauntily over to the large man and the... cat... thing... whatever, he didn't care what they were so long as they were going to be able to explain what the hell was going on to him later. If things went well he could probably twist the truth to suggest that they owed him for his intervention.
 
The white swallow found further sympathisers in the crowd, and the many people that spread among them like falling dominos. These people, they pushed back to give safe passage to the now freed Sahiyi Hushurites through the streets. They ambled slowly, sore from wounds.

The gates, however, were not open, but not all of the guards were who they seemed to be.
Hardly anyone took notice that some were undercover Shtakmati assassins.
The gates were flung open for them. Though that was not all, attention seemed to rise in another place.

Up where the Amir sat, he rose lightly from his chair to stop this insolent rebelling. Yet before he could raise his voice.
»Consider the power of those you opress as you lay still awaiting Kalik's judgement.«
»Your tyranny ends here!«
A dagger stabbed deep into the Mulay's cheek, Shiys Ibn Seyed grasped at his throat in defence as blood began to trickle down his silken wear. To his defence, one of his two bodyguards stepped, tackled and knocked unconscious by another, whom too worked undercover.
This moment of confusion gave Ibn Adil, the assassin chance to hide within the crowd that battled their attention between the goliath, the blazing flames of a rogue and escorted Sahiyi mystics. However, he did not run just yet.
The havrra-rose poison was quick to weaken the Mulay down to his knees, but the wound will kill him only slowly. Slowly and in agony. He gritted his teeth.

The White Swallow who spread hearsay so far, gazed at the ongoing rumble, he furrowed his brow as some of the guards were set ablaze. He wouldn't have wished for harm to the people, whatever their job was.
But violence seemed to grow in one way or another.


(A Mulay(Female: Lala) is a confirmed descendant from an almost fabled, yet real human conqueror of Amol-Kalit.)
 
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The feline awaited the guard's imminent arrival, still searching for the stranger she had encountered earlier, wondering how he was fairing on. The crowd began to panic. The feline no clue about what. Two opinions still seemed to be communicated.

The guards, nearing closer to the Golem and her position. The guards one moment in aggressive formation, and the next... flashing in amber flames. The feline's eyes widened in shock, looking for the new sudden magic source. Her eyes searched until she came across a face in the rooftops. Confident and sly, the stranger waved. Her eyes narrowed, her brow furrowing.

A shout. The felines ears shift as her eyes once again follow them to the sight of the Mulay, blood gushing from a stab wound to the cheek. She breathes heavily, attempting to keep calm in the middle of the chaotic scene.

The chaos continued on as the feline continued her hasty observation of the surroundings, leaping flexibly off the pole. She surveyed the area, pacing on the pedestal, ever so often making sure that the magic-user was still there. She'd definitely need to observe him more later. A curious figure.
 
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People were dying in greater numbers now and Alexios really couldn't bring himself to care overly much. There were assassins in the crowd it seemed because some bigwig was suddenly bleeding all over the place like a stuck-pig. As amusing as that was, it was still not quite what he had in mind for the day and suddenly there was likely going to be more heat on this place than just a little poxy revolt.

The Empire and the petty kings under the Emperor's sweaty ballsack weren't going to raise a finger about a little riot. But an assassination meant that someone with money or influence wanted their allies dead and that meant playing the big board game.

And that was enough for Alexios to know that he wanted to get the fuck out of here right now. Reaching into the magic onces more, he could feel the magic taking it's payment in the form of his energy. He was already beginning to feel like he hadn't eaten at any point today and it would only get worse if he did it again.

But he needed to make sure they had an escape route. Shaping the flame differently this time, he formed a lance or a spear out of them before launching them like a javellin from his hand. The compressed flames rocketed through the air to slam, point first, into the gate.

Then it exploded.

The hole it created in the gate wasn't much bigger than Alexios himself but it was a way out and that seemed like something they were all in need of. He bowed to the feline before jumping down from the building.

Somehow he doubted leaving would be that easy.
 
The guards in front of him decimated and routed, the golem turned his attention to the pyromancer responsible, viewing the man before he jumped he could make out his prominent characteristics, and saw in him the eyes of shifty a rat, rats of this caliber always had ulterior motives.

The Golem looked to the upper pews to see the struggle between two of the tyrant's body guards, the tyrant's corpse no where to be seen. He then looked to his feline compatriot to see her nervous passing, it was clear to Cauldwin that the poor girl had much to learn about battle. Cauldwin then looked to the crowd, now in ravenous free-for-all, so much for the hearts and minds of the people.

The Golem then looked to broken and burning remains of guards' shield wall that came to meat him and his allies, some were missing limbs, others were just a limb, men screamed and flailed trying in vain to put out the fires that now engulfed them. It was carnage crueler than any sword wound. He then looked passed the carnage to see that the events that had transpired had brought down upon them the full force of tyrants' grunts, a horde of what must have been almost sixty of the lower city guards was now rushing towards them. He doubted they came to non-lethally break up the revolt. Behind them was the gate to the upper city and the palace, where the tyrant would with no doubt flee to in order to survive the revolt.

(OOC because this needs some music) https://www.bing.com/videos/search?...009C10C67C3054BCEDA6009C10C67C30&&FORM=VRDGAR

With this the choice became clear, and he stepped forward off the platform and onto the dust, he began walking towards the approaching phalanx, as they slowed, he began to sprint, running through the vestiges of the witch fire. The guards held their spears extended out of the formation, in response the Golem pulled back the maul maintaining his momentum and barreled through the front of the phalanx breaking their formation and causing them to panic, there spears unable to pierce his plate. before bringing down his borrowed maul, onto two of the guards, breaking bone and crushing organs through shield and armor. Then he brought down his longsword through the flesh of another one, and then another two with his mace, and then another one with his sword, again and again. He did this until he was surrounded and what he estimated were remaining twenty began aiming for the chain mailed gaps is his plate with their remaining spears.
 
The feline watched as the magic-user made his swift exit, bowing to her. She nodded. In turn, the Golem charged into the approaching horde of guards, their spears, and shields having no effect on his metal shell.

The feline assessed the situation. The Mulays corpse was nowhere to be seen, there was a free for all between townspeople and possibly assassins, she wasn't entirely sure. She glanced at the hole burned into the gate, it would still be possible for her to get through. She removed the thought out of her head, silencing the quiet panic that had been creeping in. She smiled.

She leaped off the pedestal, dodging the commotion. With a quick sprint, she jumped on a rooftop, walking closer to the Golems position where he was decimating the guards. There was a slight uneasiness as she watched the guard's bones break under the Golem. The hurried into her offensive sprint as she prepared her knives in her hands. She flung them at two guards, the knives, piercing through their shoulders. They screamed in agony and glanced up at the rooftop. The feline reached into her coat, grabbing two more knives. She had now sealed her fate, marking her a member in the battle.
 
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Oh joy now there were more guards!

You know what made escaping the scene of immolating your enemies hard? More freaking enemies! Gods be damned he was going to have to get more involved in this damned thing wasn't he? If only to make sure that his getaway didn't involve him spending time in a jail cell before a quick walk to the nearest noose.

Though that noose probably wasn't going to be here at the rate this crowd was turning into a riot. Still, he drew his sword in his right hand and his dagger in the left as he took a deep breath before wading out of the alleyway he had found himself in.

The golem dude was wasting guards left and right but that didn't help much when they were left, right, front, back and everywhere else around you. Even a golem was likely to get hamstrung from behind at this rate.

But speaking of attacking from behind...

"Hi, can I speak to your manager?"


He joked as he thrust his sword through the neck of one of the guards from behind, killing him instantly. The others around him caught on quickly but not quickly enough. He slashed his sword at the head of another, the blow parried high which left the man wide open for the thrust of Alexios' dagger up into the armpit and into the lung.

Kicking the newly made corpse off of his blade, he stabbed twice, once with each weapon at another guard to cause him to back up. Unfortunately for the guard in question, Alexios had spent time focusing on his battlefield awareness and he hadn't. The guard tripped backwards on the first corpse and Alexios sprang, jumping onto his chest and tearing his throat out with his dagger.

Leaping away from his kills, he backed up into the centre of the ring to stand alongside the Golem and the Cat. He licked his lips, a certain giddiness welling up inside him along with the adrenaline.

"I'll take the six on the right, Cat you take the six on the left and Big Guy you can handle eight, right?"
 
The golem took in his surroundings, the assistance of his co-revolutionaries making this battle much easier, upon hearing the rat mage's musing he answered in a monotone metallic quip, "Annotation: I can handle a hundred." He then slammed his maul into a guards shield, breaking it in two, crushing the guards arm, and sending his body into another guard before continuing the onslaught.
 
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The feline looked at the mage, now carrying a sword as he instructed her to take on some more guards on the left. She nodded, feeling slight pressure that she had a certain area of the battlefield to handle.
The feline continued her normal attack routine with her knives. Upon realizing the surprisingly large number of guards, she unsheathed her machete, bobbles, and ornaments hanging off the handle.
She analyzed the mage's sword technique, picking up pieces that she could use to help her in battle.
She ignored their screams, although they still pressed against her mind.
 
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