“Children of Abaloss, wanderers of his great suffering and future tributes to the glory of his will. I welcome you all here to the founding of our blood covenant with your new masters, you will become conduits for their power! Their glory! A living catalyst of magic. We have with us the tools to complete your covenant, now come forward neophytes! Come forward to the Royal Court! Let us infuse you with the blood of dragons!” - First Night General Vicar T’Stilin 1102

Chapter 8

1509.04.04 Tomstar, Varsh

The smell of dung hung in the air around Fort Julius, crows could be heard cawing around various trash and waste that decorated the outer walls and moat. Though called a fort it was very much a walled fortress with the debris and vitriol on the outer walls acting as a siege deterrent. There on the battlement was an Ashokian human, pale humans traditionally with black and silver or lavender eyes, and a Minotuar dressed in fully armoured in Imperial Plate with segmented bands making up the chest portion and the Imperial Raven was riveted in steel to the piece both on the back connecting plates as well as the front. The human in contrast was dressed in leathers and some chainmail. Either weapons were leaning on the side of the stone palisade erected from the wall cards could be seen in their hands as they used an old crate as a table to play some betting game.

There were many others on the battlements doing much of the same thing, soldiers passing time, rolling dice, fletching arrows, maintaining their bows and other weapons. On one of the larger round towers sat a mangenel, a stationary catapult that carried many polished stones in a pouch that when fired slings its payload into the ground below it. Unlit braziers still left without fuel and old coals that roared more than likely the night before. Inside the walls of the fort itself supplies filtered into the settlement a seeming cacophony of sounds, smells and people could be seen. Trading and bartering the various wares at a little market on the northmost side of the fort. A Tavern and an Inn could be seen in the area giving the market area a squat sort of shape with the Fort’s Keep found nearly adjacent to the walls here. Truly the largest structure here was the cathedral found in the centre of the fort. Made entirely of marble it was completely different from the other structures here, the surrounding slums around the cathedral had rough wooden and thatched structures where some were seemingly using the marble pillars of the cathedral as support.

An otherworldly tower supported by flying buttresses of classical marble. Almost as if two entirely separate eras of construction came together to create a grotesque masterpiece of marble and some kind of silvery metal. Inside the topmost floor of the buildings open windows could be seen books, scribes talking about their day to day lives, underneath that was somewhat larger rooms where most made their living areas and study for religious duties. Second floor from the bottom had six separate rooms as part of a large wheel where each had its own worship with its own standards but all carried the Imperial Raven above their own gods of Hera, Ares, Athena, Apollo, Artemis and the decapitated god Zues.

Zues’s worshipers had the least amount of followers amongst the peoples, a god of power, deceit and pride. Hera, goddess of love, family and loyalty was probably the most crowded as many prayed to her for good family health, wealth and a peaceful life. Ares, god of conquest, fire and blood had many military members, fully armoured soldiers praying for good fortune in coming battles and tribute to the worship often found by adventurers who also worship the god. Athena, goddess of war, tactics and democracy, though large a gathering many elected officials could be spotted here which wasn’t an unusual sight but certainly wasn’t its everyday gathering. Apollo, god of light, truth and community, gatherers here that frequented were often local traders, artisans, blacksmiths, as well as many other guilds that could be found here recruiting for their various trades. Artemis, goddess/god of hunters, wanderers, and vagabonds, their statue the only one that depicted them as both masculine and femine, many here were local hunters looking for good fortune, adventurers wishing for much of the same and the newly liberated to thank their goddess for the freedom from bondage.

The floor under that carried no walls and only supporting pillars and well as the central staircase, here could be seen the entire central support of nine silvery metal pillars that seemed to follow the entire central tower portion the met the ground and seemingly into the ground below buried under dirt and people moving quickly in this area. Makeshift shelters could be seen where many other clergy met, healers sewing, treating and bandaging their patients from the many maladies that affected the peoples in the slums. Often cuts or scrapes, with the odd disease of illness. Following further south was the guild’s quarter in the final smallest section of the fort, making bows, spears, swords, shields, tanning leather and melting iron ore. Small little black plums of smog protruding from the various handmade forges and the few houses that seemed to burn something in their own chimneys.

Seen from a birds eye view the trapezoidal structure of the fort used the nearby hillside as an optimal southern front. While more narrow it was harder to march up the southernmost side with most of the forest covering cleared away so archers and siege equipment would have the most hard time coming up and usually covered in some kind of oil, given enough time, to ensure that said army wasn’t going to have the best time marching up. With the main focus of the road following the southern facing hillside to eventually end in a three way intersection where one road followed into the fort and the only other road following west around the walls to eventually go north. Out of the woods you could see a man and a teenage girl running trying to get to the gate house as if they were running from a pack of wolves. An arrow flies from beyond the treeline hitting the man in the back.

“Dad!”

“Run Sally! Run for Gods' sake! Don’t stop now!” Barton throws a bag of coins at the girl.

And she did, seemingly without a thought if one could not see her face as she darted to the closest possible piece of cover before darting ever closer to the gate. A horn could be sounded as Sally silently prayed that the next arrow wasn’t going to hit her.

“Come on! You haven't gotten much farther!” Sally could only think about letting her feet carry her as her legs burned with fatigue and her lungs burned with use. Two more arrows flew, one coming from a bandit on a horse as he shot out from the treeline, the other coming from a tower as they spotted the bandit getting too eager for the kill. The arrow whistled by Sally’s face before exploding against the stone of the fort’s walls. Sally was now out of the line of sight though it appeared the arrow found their mark in the woods.

“Fucking Borderwoods I swear.” An well armoured humanoid mastiff looked Sally up and down.

“You alright young’un?”

“Yeah sorry we need to save my dad!”

“We are getting the best healers as we speak. Come on inside, it ain't safe out here.” The Imperial attempted to rush Sally inside but she still felt wrong about leaving.

“I need to know my dad is going to make it!” Sally could only hear the air whistling beyond and she feared the worse.

“I’ll be going with the healers when they get he-” Another horn boomed somewhat deeper.

“More bandits?” The Dogkin moved beyond. Sally followed behind until she could see her father’s body lying in the distance. There were half a dozen bandits riding horses towards Barton’s body, some carrying rope. Sally felt such rage.

“Where do you think you are going?” The bandit’s leader chuckled at his own joke and prepared his lasso for the partially propped up body. An arrow was stuck in Barton and in a sick sort of way which left his last remaining breaths shallow and brief. Few more arrows were shot down from the parapets of the southernmost tower, One of the six taking a hit in the stomach and falling to the ground, their own horse panicked and ran. Another bandit equipped with a makeshift crossbow device with a black metal ball with a fuse attached. Barton felt strangely relieved in spite of the blood rapidly leaving his body, joined with the other newly fallen bandit whom was then also roped up and was being dragged away to the forest line.

”Spade, let's get moving!” The seeming leader of the group cupped his left hand in an attempt to cut through the chaos of returning missile fire. Similar to a hiss of a snake the fuse was lit and the oversized slingshot fired its payload. Spade had aimed at the top of the tower and in mere moments while he was riding away the tower’s southernmost parapet exploded releasing stone and flesh onto the ground below. The bandits leaving mostly on horseback with two of their own wounded they retreated with their fellows as well as poor Barton to the woods beyond.

“No! Dad!” Sally ran towards the woods slipping from the initial grasp of the guard who knew to try and stop her. The Dogfolk guard ran after her.

“Hey! Manling! Return at once! The bandits could return!” In the background could be heard shouts and chaos still happening inside the tower. The crackling of fire and shouts of the dying being heard. Sally stopped in her tracks, falling to her knees just below the crest of the hill and stared in shock at the treeline. The single guard returning to her, attempting to lift Sally to her feet but her thoughts couldn’t tear themselves away from the reality of the situation before her.

“Why…” Sally asked no one in particular, her thoughts burned deep with anger, and something deeper. She wasn’t sure whether she’d been dreaming, her legs felt like rubber from both the exhaustion and despair. Sally started to the punch the dirt and the sire around her began to burn hotter. There was a call, something beyond Sally’s perspective attempting to crash through her inability to see the reality around her. The grassfire has gotten worse faster than expected.

“Adran! Get the kid and run! They hit a grease barrel!” An elven silhouette seen in the slowly subsiding fire inside, heavy smoke soon blotting out the distant figure. Adran’s nose burned with smoke

“We don’t have time to be stupid come on!” The guard finally managed to pull Sally to her feet and they ran back through as Adran pushed away the flames with his cloak shielding the two.

“We need to find him.”

“Of course, of course! You need to get cleaned up and some rest you look like hell.”

“They just took him! I couldn’t even have tried to get him back>”

“You are gonna take on a highway gang.” The chaos of the burning tower’s sounds blending into the chaos and active population of the fort. A cart with barrels of some kind of sloshing liquid being rushed through the gate nearly taking out Adran and Sally as the Imperial pulled the teenager off to the side and through a door into the gatehouse. Inside was a cramped room with more scrolls then sense. The musty room made Sally’s nose wrinkle subconsciously.

“Are you okay?” Adran looked as though he was about to shout again.

“Yes yes sorry.”Sally was still processing.

“We should take you to a healer, you’ve got burns on your arms.” When Sally looked down she could then finally feel the sudden and very intense and painful roiling sensation and her body began to shudder.

“I need to find him!”

“You need a healer young’un, you ain’t finding nothing in the state you are in.”

“But he knows the route.” Sally’s voice started to trail off, did the route really matter now?

“There are many routes north of the city. Hells y'all can even find a city out east though I’d be careful living in Sumpter.” He opened the door again. Sally hadn’t realise he was looking for something

“Could’ve sworn there was a potion in there.” Adran scratched the side of his head with his paw, trying to think of something as he guided the half elven girl out of his office. The two started towards the temple district and the influx of wounded soldiers that resided within the tower. Sally’s arms burned in waves, almost as if each time she forgot she was in pain it somehow gotten more intense.

“What could we have done” Sally ran the scenario over and over again.

“We were just travelling north.” Sally’s thought’s hazily recalling the chaos after their ambush.

“We were going to pay them…”

“Look! You need to wait here, I have to find the doctor!” The Imperial guard disappeared into the choas of the makeshift infirmary Sally now found herself in. An elf in a dirty blood smock was sewing together an arm on one warrier with blood in their black hair and a seeming deadenness to their eyes. Suddenly a dwarven woman in a similar less bloody smock entered.

“Alright Sally.” Sally nodded, something inside of her couldn’t justify a verbal response. She couldn’t really see the point.

“Aerith to sharp ears!”

“Hey stunty! There is enough shit going around we don’t need you tossing it.” The two doctors stared at each other in angry silence. The dwarf snorted.

“Come on now, lemme do my job Dr. Yewbel I don’t have time to worry whether me patient is going to take offence!” The dwarf seemed to analyse Sally’s wounds with the same speed at which she could speak, ensuring that her wounds were more superficial than deadly.

“Wouldn’t need to speak about it if you weren’t an insufferable half pint.” That seemed to ignite a new fury in the dwarf but she fell silent and ignored her colleague as she started to grab a salve from the tray being brought in by a human girl in another much cleaner smock. Bandages, sharp knives, and a dozen foul smelling purple potions that bubbled, on top of that there was a bucket of green paste.

“Oi! This is gonna burn worse yet, I need yah to grit it!”

“What?” Sally snapped into reality for a moment again.

“I’ll need yee to grit it!” The dwarf then wasted no time in covering the burns on her arms, her assistant wrapping the salve covered arms as Sally’s arms began to burn with renewed fury.

“Blight! O’ Blight on you, fucking overgrown moleman!”

“Ha! I like that one where’d you hear it!” The dwarf smiled like she tOok some kind of grim joy in Sally’s suffering. Sally scowled at the seeming indifference to her pain but the doctor paid her no mind.

“Get back here in the morning to have these changed otherwise you are going to risk infection. Come on, I have surgery to get to woodling.” The dwarven doctor rushed her out the door. Sally was then left alone in a crowd of wounded, treated and sick townspeople. Though mostly human you could see the many different peoples of the Empire. Sally knew there were many peoples in the Empire but some she couldn’t have imagined even if she tried. Her tired mind marvelled silently as she tried to find her way out, a sinking guilt seemed to reverberate through her thoughts as her mind drifted back to her father.

“How am I supposed to find you in time now dad.”Sally stared down at her bandaged arms and hands, no doubt burned unbeknownst to her while she hit the ground with fists. Sally’s clothes also bore the telltale signs of grease splatting up her travelling coat no doubt patted out by the guard that helped her inside, now holes could be seen throughout the article and she wondered if this was the last thing she’d have left of her father. Sally then remembered something.

“The coin purse!” The girl fumbled through her clothing until she found the somewhat weighty bag, she looked inside and it was all silver coins with a small stone that had an eye carved into the centre of it making the irregular stone appear as though it was constantly looking at you if you were looking at it. Sally marvelled in silence at the stone and the little good fortune she did have, the people running past the alley she hid in order to combat the distant sound of flames. The heavy marching of metal and leather on stone as soldiers ran through the streets. Sally just wished for this to all be over, that this dream would end and that she’d be shaking awake the sleepy merchant that her father always was.