Master Ranclyffe stared holes into the Dwarven male before her. Though he had drawn himself to full height, he still stood no taller than her hips, and had to crane his wrinkled neck upward to challenge her gaze. The slight Halfling messenger who had brought Nithraz the Dragonborn archer's message some days ago flew into the room, but the Eladrin female whose ornately carved wooden throne was immediately next to the Dwarf's vacant one simply held up one slender, porcelain hand.
"Just a moment," she said, her melodic voice brimming with the laughter she wasn't allowing herself to release. "Master Ranclyffe and Counselor Erantun are completing a dominance ritual."
"Jindranae!" a Human female next to the Eladrin exclaimed in a choked voice. "You really shouldn't-"
"What else is it to be called?" the Eladrin female replied, turning her gaze from the messenger to the woman. "Every so often, Arnsvold checks if he's managed to grow a longer stubborn streak than Trizelle, and-"
"Blast it, woman!" the Dwarf burst at once, shuffling off to his throne and slamming himself down into it. "I'll do it. I won't like it, but I'll do it."
"Good," Master Ranclyffe sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. "Blinding sickness blinds people."
"Shoulda never drunk water in bloody Sembia, is what," the Dwarf grumbled. "I told him not to drink the-"
"It might have been in the Dark Quarter," Master Ranclyffe interrupted. "Restoration of the contaminated wells has consistently been interrupted by people dying in them."
The Dwarf planted his elbow on the arm of his throne and put his head in one hand- a universal sign of distress that the Eladrin and the Human female watched Master Ranclyffe completely ignore. The Human female let out a low whistle of amazement at the court mage's apparent disconnect from suffering, but Jindranae pursed her thin lips and turned straight in her throne.
"What news, darling?" she asked the Halfling messenger, who was now shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot.
"Um, we got everybody from the Mage's District and the Central Quarter to go back home, indoors," the messenger reported dutifully. "The orphanage still won't take Thunder and Sparrow in, though, so they went back to the Dark Quarter. They said the She-"
"The She doesn't exist, child," the Human female remarked instantly. "It's just some old witch we haven't managed to find and burn yet."
"Perhaps she means the randy, nameless, red-head female that lives under the docks," Jindranae comforted. "She certainly exists."
"It ain't no loose woman livin' un'er my docks," the Dwarf growled with his head still in his hand. "I ain't never seen 'er, so she ain't there."
"Someone walked through the bodies of the guards the Dragonborn archer killed and dishonored them," Jindranae stated flatly. "Every merchant that still trades with Dark Quarter folk came up to the Central Quarter the next day with the tale of the She's displeasure. They were terrified, as though they'd seen the wrath of a powerful banshee."
Nithraz, who was supposed to have been in the council room before Master Ranclyffe had arrived, stepped through the heavy wooden doors and into the circular, stone-built room. No one bothered to look at him until he spoke.
"There are three concurrent theories of what the She is- an old crone, a male demon, and a radiant, red-haired woman. There are even some that believe that she is Dresan Hawke, and that he has mastered all three forms."
The court mage rolled her eyes, but no other muscle in her body even trembled.
"Master Ranclyffe certainly doesn't believe that one," Jindranae smirked. "I think she'd know it, if her son were masquerading as a red-haired woman or some old bag."
"Besides, the closest he gets to the Dark Quarter is the docks- to meet his pirate bitch and walk 'er home," Arnsvold commented, finally having the strength to lift his face out of his hand.
"That 'pirate bitch' put both templars and the mages squarely in their places, Arnsvold," the Human counselor shot back. "Should she apologize to you for that?"
"It's a shame Lord Hawke's gone out again, actually," Nithraz commented. "She's a fighting savant."
"She's also single-handedly protecting our sea borders- from the Pirate Isles denizens, might I add," the Human female marveled. "She can only be in one place at a time. Now, dear, Thunder and Sparrow aside, you're saying that everyone's shut up safe, right?"
"Except- um- Master Semnemac," the young female replied, biting her lips. "He was lying in the Great Pool face down- I thought he was dead, but then he turned over and sat up, so I told him the message and- and he laughed at me. Like I was joking."
"Did you show him the letter of it?" the Human female asked, her eyebrows raised.
"Yes," the messenger replied, winding her fingers in the bottoms of her sleeves. "But he ate it."
Jindranae began snickering at once, biting her lips to keep herself from outright laughing.
"Gods," Arnsvold mumbled. "Blasted magic nutters."
"I'll have you know Master Semnemac is the only magic worker in this city who's that far outside of his senses," the Human female retorted, hurt. "You'll note the rest of the Mage's Quarter is safely indoors!"
"No one cares to check the graveyard to see where Aric's people are," the Dwarf replied with a shrug. "He's likely holdin' a candle lit dance for the guards what aren't yet dead."
"Why would the Raven people celebrate more death?" Jindranae asked seriously, crossing her arms over her chest. "Not two days after their Master Svaentok was snatched from them by some foul traitor they have yet to hand over to us for judgement, they're descended upon by furious family members of the departed! We'll have to write them into the Persecution Act, I fear."
"What should I do about Master Semnemac?" the messenger asked meekly. "He got out of the Great Pool and was walking around the Bone College, soaking wet, when I left him."
"Someone needs to tame that beast," the Human female grumbled. "I can only imagine what he must look like in wet burial wraps. They just barely keep him descent when he's dry."
"Hide behind him," Master Ranclyffe noted after some thought. "The Bone College is the safest place in Urmlaspyr."
"What?" the Human female exclaimed, appalled. "They keep Human parts in saline solution jars on their basement shelves!"
"Human parts are difficult to maintain," the court mage replied simply. "Proper storage is mandatory."
"And you've known her how long, Jindranae?" the Human female frowned, peering past the Eladrin at the stoic matron.
"Semnemac's nature is useful," Master Ranclyffe noted. "He confirmed the tests I performed on Ntoru's mirror, then proved my suspicions. She must be put in a proper prison, and some expendable adventurers must be sent to shut that underground temple down."
"It's too bad we couldn't've packed 'er off to Cormyr with MacSairlen," Arnsvold groaned. "Blighter isn't needed on the docks anymore, sure, but they oughtn't to've recalled him so suddenly."
And at that moment, a harried guard with thin, mouse brown hair charged up the spiral stone steps that arose from the lower levels of the converted fort. "What? What? What do you want?" he exclaimed before he was even fully visible. Behind him trailed a shame-faced Human boy who ran to the female Halfling at the center of the room as soon as he could safely pass the guard in front of him.
"Sakoda," Nithraz began, taking a step toward his furious subordinate. "This really isn't-"
"For gods's sakes, you bloody Tusk-jaw, the sun's barely in the sixth hour, and this is the third message you sent me!"
"Sakoda!" the Human female exclaimed, putting her hands to her face in embarrassment. "That mouth!"
"Why're you so shocked?" the Dwarf smirked, watching the physically well-matched guards stand so close to each other that they could have kissed. "That's why he's in the basement."
"You were to answer to the appointment-" Nithraz began, his eyes narrowing in anger.
"No!" Sakoda roared back. "No, no, and a hundred times no. I will not return to active patrol, I will not oversee the inner guard, I will not be the goddamned Lord Captain! How many times do I-"
"He wasn't the one who asked," Arnsvold called, earning himself the sudden brown-eyed stare of the furious guard. "It was a Council Mandate. That's why it was sent with Mimsa's boy."
"Well, then with all due respect to the Merchant Council," Sakoda managed with a tight bow, "I still say no."
The Human female covered her face with her hands completely while Jindranae again fell prey to snickering. Arnsvold crossed his dark-haired arms over his chest and leaned back in his throne.
"You've been passed over three times, you damned stubborn child-eater," he rumbled. "They put me on the rutting Council, and you're still twisting thumbscrews and mucking prisoner stalls. Now, I won't have it a day longer. You're Lord Captain, and that's enough."
"Oh, so?" Sakoda shot back, standing straight. "You rutting madman- I'm an archer, what in all the bloody hells will I do with a contingent of sword-toting inner guards, you thought of that? Worse, I've not walked a street openly since the war- nearly a decade of inexperience- why would you put that out at a time like this? When guardsmen are dying in the streets? What kind of a daft decision is that?"
Even Master Ranclyffe had to allow a slight, bemused turning of lip as she watched Sakoda stand like a pillar of defiance between the carved circle in which the Council sat and Nithraz, who glowered behind him.
A huffing Human girl pushed by one of the inner guards and fell on her knees at the back of the council hall.
"Yes, dear?" Jindranae asked kindly. "What could you have been set in for? You're not one of our new messengers, are you?"
"No," the girl responded, glaring over her shoulder at the inner guard behind her, who had turned around to face the outside as though he hadn't just tripped a child. "Old Lord Perth sent me. He says-"
"I said I'm not sending my daughter to her death," a silver-haired Human warrior bellowed, yanking the helmet from the offending guardsman's head. "You feel bold, tripping little girls?" Spitting in the guard's face and slamming the helmet back on, he stepped inside the council room unchallenged. "My girl's just married, might even be expecting by now. I'm not sending her to the Dark Quarter to die."
"Are Lady Rae and Lord Terrance still arguing in the courtyard?" the little girl asked as the older male knelt to pick her up from the floor.
"Yes, though Terrance has managed to get her to lower her voice," he said with some levity in his voice. "He'll be pulling at that mule forever, so I came myself."
"By the gods- Luvec!" Sakoda exclaimed, turning around to look at the man at the back of the hall. "I thought you'd been put to a dirt nap, man."
"Eh?" the man replied, as though he hadn't heard his name in quite some time. Catching the dark-eyed gaze of the poorly-armored guard, he put both legs down and sat back on his ankles. "Pohatkon, you blighter. You stayed."
"He did, but may as well have left with you," Arnsvold snorted. "Playing in the bloody torture room so long, you'd think he lived at the Bone College. Now, what's this flap you're talking?"
"Mimsa, make yourself useful and transcribe the treaty terms, dear," Jindranae said comfortingly to the withered Human female. "The menfolk don't need us just now, and they're likely to have forgotten all about writing them down. Must expect Nithraz to be able to offer them from memory."
"Thirty seven guards are down in the dirt in the Dark Quarter, and more deserters than have gone since the war are pouring out of the guard," Luvec said, sending his messenger off with a gentle hand to her mid-back. "I don't want to put my daughter down. If it weren't for the shutting of the market today, neither Terrance nor I would have even known Nithraz tapped Rae to come to the Dark Quarter with him."
A scroll spirited itself from Master Ranclyffe's hands to Mimsa and Jindranae and floated before them, spinning slowly. "There. Copy that," the mage matron instructed solidly.
"You're a dear, Trizelle," Jindranae smiled. "Tea later?"
"You may be her father, but I'm her commander," Nithraz retorted, annoyed. "I need her sword arm with me."
"Not at this rate," Master Ranclyffe sniffed. "Supper, perhaps."
"You need a sword arm of your own," Luvec shot back acridly. "Of all the things your father did wrong, he did manage to keep the blood warm in my body."
"That's cruel, Perth," Sakoda admonished immediately. "The older tusk-face is a hard act to follow for anyone."
"Pop- get out of my way!" Rae Silus, with her helmet at her side and her short, thick brown hair pulled tightly to the nape of her neck, charged past the guard into the council room and faced her father down. "Pop, I have to go, I have to!"
"Gods curse the bloody guard!" a furious male voice called from down the stone hallway. "Gods curse the guard and the blasted, cowardly tusk-jaw that runs it!"
"Terry!" Rae and Luvec both cried in perfect unison, turning to glare down the hallway toward the source of the shout as though they had been choreographed.
"Well, we know what he thinks of the matter, poor soul," Jindranae commented offhandedly. "Triz, this wasn't something we agreed to."
"See it his way, Silus," Sakoda advised the blushing Rae. "You're the strength of his heart, you've often said so. You think he wants to lose you like this? Shot through the neck in the Dark Quarter?"
"It's necessary," Master Ranclyffe replied unrepentantly. "Read it again, if you must."
"Gods burn this place to the ground!" came the anguished male cry.
"No, no, you're right- safety and education should be provided for," Jindranae nodded slowly. "There's not a trade shop in the whole quarter- just taverns, whore houses and alchemic-fiend shacks."
And Master Ranclyffe nodded.
"Your eldest brother's hurt, your younger killed," Luvec sighed heavily. "Yet I should sit at home, reading broadsheets and sipping wine, while my girl-pup is pulled from prison guard duty to play soldier against her own people? How could I stand my sire's scorn if you were killed?"
"But Pop, what if-" Rae began, her eyes tearing in frustration and concern.
"If I die, Rae, I die well," Luvec stated strongly. "I reclaim the Perth honor that I hot headedly threw down along with the crest when I left. You will take up my sword and mount it with my father's sword, with my grandpop's hammer, and with your great grandmum's staff."
"Curse you, you bloody coward tusk-jaw! Curse you to the Hells!"
"That man's near to mad already," Arnsvold noted quietly, holding up a hand to prevent Nithraz from responding. "Can hear the grief comin' from his guts."
Sakoda nodded, speechless.
"I can't bear it," Mimsa said at last, handing the second scroll off to Jindranae. "The war is over, isn't it? Didn't we win the war nine years ago? I thought this was-"
"So did I, Mimsa," the Eladrin replied quietly. "So did we all. But that was... naiive of us, wasn't it?" With that said, she twisted her right hand in the empty air. A quill appeared in it, and an inkpot materialized at the edge of the right armrest of her throne.
Outside, Terrence could no longer put words to his fury, and simply cried aloud. Arnsvold sat down in his throne and closed his eyes, listening.
"He knows he can't do nothin'," he commented, nearly to himself. "That's the sound of a man that knows he can't do nothin' about what's hurtin' him."
"All of us die," the court mage pronounced gravely. "The matter is how, when and where."
There was, for a few moments, a weighted silence. Jindranae continued to work on the transcription, unabashed. Mimsa glared at the completely expressionless court mage. Rae and Luvec burned holes into each others' eyes while Nithraz sighed deeply and pinned his gaze to the ceiling, as though imploring Pelor for help. Sakoda, remembering his own wife and children, bit his lips and ran a cold hand across the back of his neck. Arnsvold didn't move an inch, still listening to the heart-broken wailing of Terrence, who either wouldn't or couldn't cross the inner guards to scream in the High Captain's face.
"You win, Pop," Rae managed, at last dropping her helmet to rush to her father with open arms. "Give 'em bloody hell." Luvec granted her the hug that neither could stop themselves from giving each other, and Sakoda turned his back on the goodbye.
"Gods, woman, haven't you a heart?" Mimsa exclaimed, standing up to stare across the room at the unmoved mage.
"Yes," Master Ranclyffe replied with a raised eyebrow. "But I doubt my blood circulation concerns you."
"Go home," Luvec urged, taking his daughter by the shoulders and pushing her away from him. "Get Terry out here before he gets himself run through or something."
The Human female flopped herself back into her throne with a quiet cry of frustration, and the Eladrin looked over her shoulder at the court mage, who gave a very small nod of self-satisfaction. In the silence that reigned afterward, Rae picked up her helmet and tore out of the room. Luvec sighed deeply, as though the weight of the world had freshly settled itself on his shoulders, then turned to face the Council.
"Well, we gained a swordsman," Arnsvold noted with his eyes still closed. "So Sakoda can stop bellyachin' about being an archer in charge of blade-swingers."
"Forgot basic training, Pohatkon? You can swing a blade," Luvec scoffed.
"When I pick up a sword, it's as dangerous to me as it is to whomever I'm trying to hit," Sakoda replied, sitting down on the floor as though he were in the lower levels of the prisons. "That hasn't changed."
"Come, come now, man," Luvec encouraged, moving over to Sakoda to encourage him to stand back up. "It's not a war yet. Right now, it's a skirmish that's bordering on revolt. We can handle that."
"I've not been topside in years," Sakoda replied simply. "I'm getting a sunburn from here."
"Gods, that bitter wit," Arnsvold groaned. "He's fine; don't coddle him."
"There are the treaty terms, copied off Master Ranclyffe's original scribing," Jindranae announced. "Nithraz, take this scroll to the center of the Dark Quarter and pin it-"
"Who will read it?" Master Ranclyffe reminded in a sharp, sour voice.
"Ah- you shall take it to the center of the Dark Quarter and read it aloud- as loudly as possible- to as many as will listen. Will that do, Trizelle?"
"He'll die there," Master Ranclyffe replied calmly. "Will that do?"
"Why are you friends with her?" Mimsa whispered very quietly behind her hand.
"Go with him, Pohatkon and Luvec," Arnsvold counseled, sitting up straight. "If you take the bow and you take the sword, Nithraz shouldn't fear nothin'."
"Trizelle, beidh tú a chur ar na páistí a bhfuil tú?" Jindranae asked, stepping down from the carved circle in which the thrones sat and pausing before moving all the way toward Nithraz. "Choinneáil sábháilte do dom, le do thoil?"
Without a word, Trizelle turned her attentions to the messengers, who had both been all but forgotten. She snapped her fingers, and both young creatures jumped to their feet at once. By the time she turned on her heel, the Human male and the Halfling female had darted after her like two puppies, and Jindranae smiled gratefully.
"That's why," she breathed, too quietly for Mimsa to hear. It hadn't been for her benefit, anyway.
Nithraz moved forward to accept the scroll, and Jindranae put it into his waiting hand. With a bow, Nithraz accepted the scroll and moved toward the hall that led to the courtyard.
"Well?" Arnsvold asked, raising an eyebrow at Luvec and Pohatkon. "He's your commander, for now. Make sure Master Ranclyffe is wrong about this one."
"Where's that filthy composite bow of yours, Guardsman Sakoda?" Luvec smirked, turning to go behind Nithraz.
"Under your mother," Sakoda snorted. "We sweat so hard, we warped it. My darkwood bow's at home."
"Go get it, you whoreson."
Jindranae watched the guardsmen leave in different directions, then turned to walk back to her throne. Mimsa's face had paled from the various oaths, but Arnsvold was smiling widely.
"About how long will it take you to carve a new throne, Arnsvold?" the Eladrin asked calmly as she sat, wondering what memories were entertaining him.
The Dwarven counselor raised an eyebrow at Jindranae. "So we are givin' 'em a seat?"
Mimsa squealed, appalled. "We can't! What Dark Quarter Shadovar would you see on a throne? Nothing's even there but taverns, brothels, and alchemic shacks!"
"We trusted you to invest in the area," Jindranae reproved. "If there's nothing there but... those places, after all this time, we can only assume that you've allowed that to continue to be the case. It's most prudent to find a steward more deeply interested in the area's improvement immediately, now how long will a new throne take, Arnsvold?"
"You lost too," Arnsvold nodded slowly. "That old bitch just about spoke outta your mouth."
"It's... hard to argue with her, isn't it?" Jindranae smirked sheepishly.
"She's not a council member," Mimsa argued. "She's never been a council member- she's refused a throne multiple times! Why is her opinion of such sudden importance?"
"Well, new throne'll take me a couple hours, so long's we don't got nothin' else to do," Arnsvold replied gustily. He leaned his head back so that the top of it rested on the back of his own throne. "We gotta hear cases, it'll take me nigh on a day."
"I'll plan on the day, then- shut up, Mimsa, or I'll put whoever it is between me and you." Jindranae squinted her eyes at Mimsa, who threw herself back in her throne like a sullen child.
By the time Sakoda made it back to the courtyard, Nithraz had already begun to address the remaining inner guardsmen. Their ranks had been bolstered by outer guards who were supposed to be patrolling other areas, and for some outer guards, it was the first time they had seen the guards who kept the prisons orderly and the Council chamber safe in years. Nithraz could hardly make himself heard over the din of surprise and recognition between the two sets of soldiers. Sakoda was hailed by the prison guardsmen by a name that surprised the other inner guards and concerned most of the outer guards- Ser Sadist. Luvec was among the concerned.
"I've heard tales," he commented as he looked down at his compatriot's freshly oiled bow.
"They're probably true," Sakoda replied simply.
It was a statement that Luvec found himself unwilling to poke at any further. War did things to people, he reminded himself, and Sakoda had remained constant to the oath he'd taken as a guardsman. For better or worse, the man next to him would always and forever be a different creature than the one he'd met more than a decade ago. Then, in a strange twist of imagination, Luvec found himself wondering if Pohatkon were thinking the same thing about him.
"...and the last third of you, led by the honorable Luvec Perth, will be taking the Main Corridor down to the docks, then hemming any skirmishers in by pushing north," Nithraz finished smoothly. "We must have no mercy on these cretins! We must stamp out the flames of indecency and rebellion! We must avenge the thirty-seven fallen-"
"Wait, you're splitting us up?" Luvec piped up suddenly. "You're going to follow the exact same strategy that got more than half of those thirty-seven killed in the first place?"
"Oops," Sakoda chuckled, ducking his head in the attempt to hide his amusement.
"Perhaps if you had remained constant in the guard, you would know better manners than to question your commander," Nithraz spat back, furious.
"Perhaps if the commanders hadn't led their cronies into taking bribes, doing favors and turning blind eyes to criminal activity, I'd have stayed!" Luvec shot, sore.
"And what did you do, Ser Perth, to stop that activity?" Nithraz demanded, moving in to stand face to face with the angered Human. "What did you do to prevent what we have to deal with today?"
"That's enough," Sakoda stated heavily, putting the top of his bow between the two males. "We all could've done more, and we didn't. You hear me? All of you? We all could have done something to prevent this day, and because we were greedy, because we were silent, because we were afraid, because we were bloody complacent or plain lazy, thirty-seven of our companions are dead! Because of our goddamned selfish inaction, we now move to attack those we should protect! There are no innocents here, no saints, no clean hands! We are all to blame!"
There followed a solemn silence, and Sakoda put his forearm against the still-bristling Nithraz to get him to back away from Luvec. After the push, the half-Orc turned on his heel and moved off to address the entire company again. Winded, Luvec dropped his head and sighed.
"Stop being right, Pohatkon," he breathed, "or we won't make it out of the courtyard."
But Sakoda, painfully convicted by his own words, said nothing.
"We march together," Nithraz ordered, his voice dropped nearly to a growl. "Keep your eyes on me. If I drop this treaty for any reason, it is a sign to attack. You are to move in, to attack as many as will fight you, and to put the Dark Quarter under martial law, where it will stay until the aggressors are all eliminated. If we do not succeed, we present an open sore that Sembia can use to flood this place and kill us all. We cannot fail, or Urmlaspyr falls. Today, we protect our people. Today, we defend our sovereignty. Today, we crush the revolt and restore peace to each and every street in this city- are you with me? Fora!"
"Fora!" called most of the guard. Sakoda and Luvec looked at each other- both of them had remained silent.
"Hurts, doesn't it?" Luvec managed as the forward march began.
"His father was a hard act for anybody," Sakoda replied, forcing himself to keep his eyes on the road before him. "Maybe that's why none of us wanted to try."
"Gods rest Ganturaz," Luvec said sadly, looking at the road himself. "You had mercy on me and his boy-pup just now. Old tusk-jaw would've spat in both our faces."
"Gods rest him, wherever in Sembia's rutting dirt he lies," Sakoda sighed.
The company marched out of the Palace District via the Main Corridor, but then turned to the left to pick up Magebelt, which would turn into the West Way once it had reached the Dark Quarter. The morning sun lavished itself on the even cobblestones and embraced the silent houses, from which pent-up citizens watched the advance that was being dubbed Nithraz's last stand against the raucous Dark Quarter denizens. Many of them, like Sakoda, knew that had the current High Captain simply finished what he started before he'd ascended in rank, the people against whom everyone else in the city shut up their doors and windows would have been much less prone to the current bloodshed and revolt. A few quiet sympathizers, mostly merchants who had seen for themselves the hideous conditions under which the Dark Quarter residents lived, had even begun to raise murmurs of treason- first against the deceased High Captain, and now against Nithraz himself.
The sun's light dimmed as the company approached the rising spire of Shar's above-ground temple. The cobblestones that had been so well set together farther up the road now broke up and drifted apart from each other. Soldiers began to perform various small signs of blessing- the touching of their heads or hearts, the whisperings of prayers, the tapping of special little trinkets.
Luvec felt himself running his fingers over the runes that adorned his ironwood blade- the one that his wife had spent four years perfecting and detailing for him. Instead of calling on some distant deity, he turned his thoughts instead to the much-beloved mother of his three children, who had herself been no better than the prancing wood-hags that had been daily burned in public after the war had ended. She had escaped the pyre only by falling under the protection of a furious swordsman, Luvec knew. She had been lovingly grateful, of course, but she had stood at the window to watch her friends and coven-mates burn- day, after day, after terrible day. And for each witch, each warlock, each druid and mage, she cut a piece of her hair and burned it, with tears in her eyes. She cut and cut, until her once waist-length brown hair barely brushed the nape of her neck.
Luvec watched her. And could say nothing.
Not only had she been a druid, she had been a Eastern Quarter-born druid, who had survived being abducted by Semmites, and had endured Thultanthar testing, the horrors of which she could not even bear to recount to her husband. On the day her home quarter surrendered completely to the thick shroud that stretched over it, never to be touched by sunlight again, she had fallen on her knees and cried aloud.
Luvec had seen the darkness, too. But he could say nothing.
"Courage, man," Sakoda urged, as though he could hear his companion's thoughts. "Keep yourself together."
Luvec hadn't noticed the tears slipping down his face, but when he came to himself, he roughly brushed them away. He shook his head sharply, and Sakoda looked away from him again.
At last, the line between the Eastern Quarter and the rest of all of Urmlaspyr brought itself sharply before the troop. The cobblestones gave completely out, leaving nothing but bare footpath. A stench- blood, sweat, vomit and offal- struck unease into even the strongest of stomachs. Part of the wood of an abandoned shack collapsed under Sakoda's gentlest touch, bathing the entire company with a gust of rot and maggot-scented breeze. One soldier, an Elven Quarter guard that everyone knew had been born in the Eastern Quarter, and who hadn't had any chance to return home since he'd given his sword arm to the guards, burst loudly into tears. Luvec grunted quietly, as though the man's cry had been a solid dagger pushed into his gut.
Surprisingly, a small child tore around the side of another row of buildings farther up the road and stopped a good distance away from the company. He lifted a grimy finger, pointing toward the guard, whose mates were attempting to calm him down- largely without success.
" 'E alright?" the child asked, the high voice resounding in the bare street.
"No," replied a strong female voice.
Past the child, the clash of battle rang out, and the little boy scurried away, terrified. When he moved, Nithraz could see one young female struggling against two larger creatures. She was lightly armored, but there were dark spikes on both of her attackers. Sakoda quickly stepped between Luvec and Nithraz to take a clean shot with the hope of evening the odds, but before he released his arrow, he heard two different bows singing at once. Immediately, the two attackers fell, one pitched forward with an arrow piercing through his uncovered skull and the other knocked back with the arrow in his throat.
"C'mon!" a man cried from somewhere, and a filthy group of men and women rushed toward the fallen female.
"By the gods," Nithraz breathed, drawing his sword and moving toward the situation. "She's not even-"
"Still alive; get 'er in quick!" a woman called, and the group struggled to hoist the female to their shoulders. As they did, the symbol of the Cormite dragon gleamed proudly on her bloody short sword.
"Fe whole of fa gard's 'ere for us," another female voice called from behind the company. More than a few soldiers attempted to find the source.
"What do you want, High Captain?" the same strong, soprano voice soothed, now sounding much closer than she had before. "Who do you intend to strike down with that toy of yours?"
Whispered fears of the She suddenly came alive in the company, and Nithraz grit his teeth as he put up his sword, then held up a hand to try to calm his guards. Signaling to Luvec and Sakoda, he made his way down the street and toward the center of the Dark Quarter. As he walked, people began to come out of their hovels- children, elders, wounded fighters- all lined the streets with set faces and burning eyes, watching the High Captain's trudge to the center of their area. By the time he arrived there, he felt as though every resident had come to see what he would do. He took out the scroll, then realized with annoyance that it was too dark to read it. However, just as he turned to ask for light, the boy who had run from the fight before returned with a stinking fat torch. It made his eyes water, but he had enough light to read, so he took a look at the terms. Sakoda, whose bow was silent at his side, quietly looked over his shoulder as Luvec moved before him with his hand on his sword.
"People of the Da- of the Eastern Quarter," Nithraz began cautiously.
"Speak up, dammit," an older woman called from somewhere in the gathered crowd. "How's a body 'sposed ta hear?"
Nithraz searched through the crowd until he saw the source of the voice- a red and grey haired woman whose slumped back preached loudly of her age. In the torch's poor light, her heavily-lidded eyes still gleamed with contempt.
"Shall I speak loud enough for the She to hear?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at her.
"I can hear you well enough," the soprano voice purred. "But do talk harder for our mother. It's many years since anyone's been able to do less than yell at her."
"People of the Eastern Quarter!" Nithraz began again, not allowing himself to fall into a fight with a woman he could not find. "Here are the terms of peace, sent from the Merchants Council! The guards' house shall be rebuilt! The abandoned buildings shall be done away with! The streets shall be lit-"
"Slavers- run!"
Sakoda backed away from Nithraz and drew his bow, looking up to the rooftops in the attempt to head off any airborne attacks. Nithraz raised his hand and waved it, pulling his sword and putting the treaty in its sheath to keep it safe. Around them, people began clutching their children, grabbing their mates and stampeding away from the center. The little boy, startled, ran off with the torch, allowing the darkness to engulf everyone.
Luvec saw the running shadows that ripped between the buildings, but it seemed as though they moved faster than he could even perceive. Worse, in the utter darkness, it was nearly impossible to tell which shadow was a lightly-armored slaver and which shadow was a well-padded citizen-turned-militia member. The guardsmen who had answered Nithraz's summons were similarly puzzled, and wound up clanging into each other in the attempt to follow the shadows. Luvec himself collided with a young male who attempted to address him in a language he didn't understand before realizing that Common would be better.
"Elven," he said simply. "But you're not- c'mon, this way!"
Various cries eventually went up from families that had not been successful in safeguarding all their children. Most of them were found with other families, and shouts of terror began to turn into happy, boisterous yelling, as though there had been a festival. It was hard to hear anything at all, but a pained, sharp intake of breath was punctuated by a revolting gurgle caught Luvec's ear, and he looked down to find the treaty on the ground. Looking across the street, he met the confused eyes of Nithraz for less than a second before he fell backward behind some dark building- possibly into an alleyway.
"Pohatkon!" he shouted immediately. "The High Captain!"
"Light- light!" Sakoda cried immediately, putting his bow away and running from where he was toward Luvec.
The rag tag Dark Quarter militia members urged one another to find the boy who had stolen someone's fat torch, which took some time. And all the while, Luvec was tortured by the soft sound of gagging. At some point, someone realized that they were actually looking for Nithraz, and a few jokes of his overpowering cowardice began to arise. Sakoda made it to Luvec's side before the torch came, and together, they began to search for the half-Orc's body- around corners, in abandoned house doors and down alley ways.
"My apologies," the soprano said gently after about five minutes had gone by. Sakoda whipped himself around to meet one gorgeous green eye, radiant red hair and a half-shrouded face. "You're looking for this. If you would be so kind, Honorbow."
She turned and moved off, and before Sakoda or Luvec could take off after her, a flaming arrow struck the ground. In the light of it, both men saw Nithraz lying on his right side with his hands clutched to his throat. His eyes were still bolted open in surprise. Blood seeped between the fingers and pooled on the ground. Looking up, Sakoda saw that the guardsmen looked to him, and that every one of them had put their weapons away.
They were looking at him.
Without a word, Sakoda put his bow behind him and stooped to pick up the treaty, which was quite a ways behind him, to his left.
"Did you find-" Luvec began, turning around. And then he too saw the fallen scroll, and the focus of the gathered guard. Nodding, he put his sword back into its sheath. "Well, then, read it, High Captain Sakoda."
The Dark Quarter militia agreed with Luvec, and at last, the boy with the torch returned, holding his pilfered light high.
"There shall be guards that shall permanently live among you, in houses that they shall choose and buy," Sakoda began in a raw voice. "I'm sorry, mother, can you hear me?"
"Just fine, boy," the older woman replied as she stepped back out of her home. "Just fine."
"The borders shall be fortified, and shall have guards placed there. Those guards shall be rotated once each week. The infested, abandoned and dilapidated buildings shall be taken down, and those families of more than six persons that apply to the Council shall be assisted in raising new ones. Magelight torches shall be made available to all commercial ventures, reguardless of their nature, for a modest price- and they shall be required, under penalty of closure. Residents shall be permitted to worship in the Temple District. Orphans shall have access to the orphanage. Those of apprenticing age shall be permitted to seek apprenticeship outside of the quarter. No merchant of any kind shall be permitted to levy a 'Dark Quarter tax' on their goods. All posted guards- rather, all surviving posted guards- shall be put to trial for treason. A Merchant Council seat shall be made available to whomsoever the people of the Da- of the Eastern Quarter select as their representative. Those who are aberrant shall not be stoned, but instead brought to Master Ranclyffe for proper study and testing- which shall bear no resemblance to the testing of the mages of Thultanthar."
As Sakoda read, more and more of the Dark Quarter people began to appear outside of their homes. And instead of standing away from the guards, they mingled with them, moving between them like shadows at first, but then at last actually acknowledging them.
"What proof have we that you'll do all of this?" a Human male replied after Sakoda had finished.
Sakoda looked up from the scroll to the Human, then rolled the scroll up. Tucking it into his belt, he moved toward the Human, stopping about a foot in front of him.
"You, ser, find me the most disgusting shack you can think of. Next to a cess pool. Across from a whore house. Riddled with alchemic users, I don't mind. And you point me it out. I will live there, with my wife and my children, and what affects you will then affect me, too. I swear to you that I'll do this, on my grave, and on my mother's."
The Human sighed, pursed his lips and nodded. "Alright. But you've got to take caution, mind, or your ladyfriend'll get a good slice in her hide. Goddamned slavers come in anytime they like, you saw it yourselves. D'you want us to up your corpse?"
And Sakoda looked behind him, where Nithraz lay. Beyond him, Luvec snorted.
"Put him wherever the She wants him," Sakoda decided at last, putting two fingers in the air and twirling them to indicate his desire for the gathered guards to about face. "Let it be a final offering. Number thirty eight."
"Yes. Thirty eight means completion, High Captain Sakoda," the soprano breathed. It was so quiet, yet so close, that Sakoda felt as though if he turned around, he may see the woman again- what little of her he had seen to begin with. "Our business here is completed. But there will be- other transactions, let's say."
Somehow, Sakoda felt as though she had won a game that he wasn't aware of playing.
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