Private Tales Left Alive

[Arn]

Arn looked over at the man Rhidian had pointed out, his face growing a bit more pale as he imagined a swath of metal literally cutting through the Cortosi encampment.

A familiar chill running up his spine as he did. "I...c-cool."

The Farmboy stuttered, remembering the death that Rhidian alone had been able to deal out, and wondering what a more experienced Dreadlord could do. For a moment he seemed to stall, swallowing, then returned his attention to the task ahead.

He felt safer but he most certainly did not feel better.

With a shocking amount of stealth, the Anirian Combat Patrol quickly moved out and down into the valley.

It was not long before they found themselves a new perch, the cadre of soldiers and Dreadlords stopping just short inside of some bushes where they were able to observe the odd contraption they had seen earlier. True to what Arn had thought, it was a balloon, just one large enough to carry what appeared to be a small carriage.

Small fires were lit around where the balloon had landed, but no major patrol hung around. Instead only four men stood there, each dressed in heavy plate armor, each wearing the same red robes as the man Rhidian and Arn had fought...well, more the former than the latter. "This...hardly seems like an attack."

Arn whispered to the Dreadlord, hearing the distant sound of hoof-beats as another party approached.

The Dreadlord Rhidian had pointed out earlier immediately signalling to the Anirian's to stay down and wait for just the right time to strike.

 

[Rhidian]

How were they expected to not engage when there were the undeniable sounds of a thunderous group on horseback? Strange contraptions floating from the sky? Enemy territory nearby?

Rhidian remained low, eyes watching the Dreadlord. His hand went to his side, where his Tyrian Iron sword waited to be used again.

"Reckon it's our friends we were chasing after?" He whispered, but knew Arn would hear him.

The small group waited, listening and trying to make sense of anything in the dark. Clouds covered the light of the moons, but Rhidian was sure dawn would break soon.

"Stay alert." The order was quiet, but their group nodded nonetheless, even if they could not see in the night's darkness.

 

[Arn]

Arn frowned for a moment as Rhidian whispered quietly in his ears. Realizing that even though the Dreadlord was around the same age as him, he had a much greater depth of knowledge when it came to...well, all of this. Was that the training as an Initiate? He said he'd been a guardsmen before, but he supposed the Academy was different than the Barracks.

His thoughts however were redirected as someone ordered them to stay quiet. The sound of hoofbeats echoing out as the horsemen came into view and neared the strange large ballon. Arn's face turning to a frown as he did indeed recognize one of the figures.

Gently he tapped Rhidian on the shoulder, pointing out a man with the same crimson cloak as the others.

The man had been there during the initial assault on their original patrol. In fact, he had lead it.

Yet it was not that man the other Anirian's seemed to catch their eyes on. No, their gaze was drawn to the figure riding in the middle of the small squadron of cavalry. There upon a resplendent white horse sat a woman, her hair long and blonde far passed her shoulder.

She wore no red cloak, but instead the coat of a Dreadlord. "That's Tsarra."

Someone said from behind him, and it took Arn only a second to realize it was the same that had told him and Rhidian to be quiet. Confusion tinged their commanding officers voice, and he silently added.

"She's of the second, what the hell is she doing here..." Quickly the riders came to a stop, the Dreadlord among them dismounting and quickly beginning to engage in a friendly conversation with those who had come with the Balloon.

Arn turned his head, looking at Rhidian and mouthing one single word. Traitor?

 

[Rhidian]

Rhidian shrugged at Arn, brows furrowed at the revelation of this new intel.

Out of the things that could happen this night, he didn't expect to see a Dreadlord amongst those that opposed the Anirians.

"Tsarra... I don't know the name, but she looks familiar. Might have seen her in Vel Hetren once upon a time..." But that would have been a few years ago, and since the Revolution, it was known there were many that exiled from the duty of Vel Anir and went off on their own. Rogues, it seemed they were always branded that no matter the reason for leaving...

"What would you like us to do, sir?" Rhidian's question was quiet, but heard by all in their patrol. "What's her magic? Can anyone recall?"