A Kingdom's Fate (Rp): Ended.

[The Zango]

Spoiler: OoC

I apologise if my post makes no sense, I'm recovering from drinking my weight in Carlsburg last night. I'll edit it tomorrow to be better

"You want me to walk? Are you trying to kill me?" said Ra'ive, annoyance thick in his voice. He stared after the others as they fell in behind Ellondra and made their way to the town. He sighed and painfully stood up, his injury would impede his movement but not disastrously so.

'Damn these people'

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Ra'ive collapsed heavily against a nearby wall and breathed heavily, the pain in his leg was mounting as the Ceaweed wore off and his eyes still, stubbornly refused to cease bleeding. He could not take much more of this, he needed to be rocked. His resolve only strengthened as he saw Vik'nar venturing inside alone, he mustn't let him perish. Not just because he was a companion and dare-say-it a friend but because he was his only hope of getting Sai'ed.

He shuffled over to a nearby flame, thankful that Evela hadn't managed to put it out and began to prepare his bowl of BlackRock, almost ritually laying out the implements infront of him and pouring the rock into the bowl, almost meditatively. Perhaps BlackRock did hold some kind of power over him, after all tales of the old Eastern assassins smoking entire plants of Ceaweed before battle, clearing their minds and strengthening their resolve.

He held the bowl over the fire, the flames licking at his gloved hand and dissolving the BlackRock in the bowl in a mass of black bubbles.

It was ready

He held it to his mask and inhaled the smoke deeply, feeling the smoke almost refreshing him as it entered his body, melting the pain in his leg and restoing normal blood flow to his brain.

He was ready.

"Ok, Ra'ive's back! I'm going to assist Vik'nar"

'I'm back!'

'So am I'

 

[Cinnonym]

"What?!" Ellondra's voice was a harsh whisper, "Ra'ive, you're not going anywhere. Remain here and await Vik'nar's return. No matter what you smoke now, you'd only impede him."

She was worried about the Sever-Elf, that much was obvious.

 

[The Zango]

'Then you have no-idea the quality of what I just smoked'

"Ellondra, I simply wish to observe from the shadows and I take little comfort in your analysis of my abilities and experience, do you not remember? I managed to follow you and Vik'nar with a damn near broken leg, this flesh wound is nothing"

With that he gave her a venomous look from behind his mask, adjusted his hood to be lower and began to step back into the shadows until a thought grabbed his attention.

'Maybe she is right? Afterall, its easier to sneak alone...'

'No! We need him and he needs our help, we cannot allow him to perish!'

Ra'ive looked around, obviously torn by the argument occurring inside his own head before deciding.

He looked at Ellondra one last time before resuming his seat by his used bowl and the crackling fire. He agreed with Ellondra, in his current state he would most likely impede but she just didn't know what would cause his fumbles. If the other one hadn't piped up, then he would have happily infiltrated the town, the only danger of discovery presented by the overwhelming smell he now carried with him.

'You win this one'

 

[lewism247]

Acento sat next to the fire and warmed his hands before taking another swing from his bottle, he'd drank quite a lot of it, he better stop. Ah one more sip wont hurt he thought to himself.

 

[Cinnonym]

"Evela. Perhaps you wouldn't mind being useful and patching up Ra'ive." To remind him that this wasn't an excuse to run off and find Vik'nar, she added, "We may need to move quickly."

 

[Dragon_of_red]

Evela heard his name, just barely, his mind was still not feeling to right. He staggered over to Ellondra, falling to his knees when he gets close to her. "I would like to" a coughing fit strikes him, some blood appears on his hand, "But I fear it might kill me. Give me an hour or so..." he falls onto his back, the world seemingly spinning around him.

 

[Cinnonym]

She stared at him for a long moment, sighed, and began to pace.

 

[Slycne]

The scene that unfolded before Vik'nar's eyes as he crested the city wall was like nothing he'd seen before.

He'd seen the destruction wrought by fires from the times that the Herelden slums would occasionally catch ablaze, the shacks and shambles too closely packed to do much more than let it burn itself out. He was no stranger to death either, these missions alone had been filled with it. The vision of this city however was now one that filled him with anger, regret, a sicking feeling and more - all of which he was trying to stomach while he took it all in, in all it's grisly detail.

Much of the city had either been claimed by the fires or was still in the process of burning, save a considerable section of town near the water's edge where Evela had turned the flames path back. Goblins actively roamed the street. Some were in the process of looting, small fights breaking out over something they found of particular value. Other's were hammering steel in forges that burned hotter than the fires in the distance. Worst of all there were goblins skinning the corpses of humans, stretching out the skins it out to dry before it would be tanned, the first process in leather-making. The sight nearly caused him to up-heave the contents of his stomach.

A scream draws his attention to a small house barely a few feet from the wall. A woman was being unceremoniously dragged from the small structure by a pair of goblins armed with sword and shield. She seemed to be desperately reaching for something inside the building, her tears mixing with the blood pouring from her scalp as the two goblins were dragging her by her hair. A hot rage rose to claim the queasiness in his stomach, this was one soul that would not be claimed by their fire or flayed open with their knives. The scene was separated from any other groups of goblins and the woman could provide valuable insight. It was a calculated risk, but one he steeled himself to take.

He landed on the far side of the city wall with a muted thud, timing his landing with the hammer falls of the blacksmiths. The goblin's back were turned to him and their hands were full dragging the woman. He'd need to take them both silently though, both dagger clearing their sheathes with the soft scrapping of metal on leather. He was practically on top of them when the woman suddenly ceased her screams, perhaps fainting from the shock of it all. It was no matter though because as the two goblins looked down at her puzzled, Vik'nar struck them from behind. They were short, no taller than a dwarf, making his downward blows for their necks a simple angle to achieve. Neither gasped or alerted with much more than a wet gurgle as a razor honed blade sliced through each of their necks.

He worked quickly to hide the bodies, stashing them under the floor boards of a house. The sand and dirt from the unpaved street was kicked and brushed aside to obscure the blood. And finally he collected the woman's body, her breathe was shallow and quick but she was still alive. Indeed most likely in shock from all that had happened.

The trip back over the wall and across the field was now doubly as difficult to navigate with the unconscious body. Returning to their staging area, Vik'nar all but collapses from the sheer stress and exhaustion of it all.

"Water."

His voice rasps as he lays down to catch his breathe, his arms to sore from carrying the woman so far and for so long to move currently.

---​

Once someone had kindly assisted him with a drink, Vik'nar openly recounts the events and sights to the rest of the group.

 

[lewism247]

Acento walked over to Vik'nar, stumbling a little from the whisky and handed him a flask of water.

 

[Jav3lin]

The woman woke up, her eyes fluttering as she began to take in the surroundings.
"Damien.."
She whispered as she looked around terrified.
"Where is my son?"

The woman had blonde hair and hazel eyes. Her body was slim but quite pale and fragile.
She wore ragged cloth clothing and a white apron. The apron had more than a simple trace of flour on them, more or less like it was made from flour.
There was blood streaming down her face and sweat everywhere. She had no shoes on and her feet were bloody and blackened. She had also been burned a little on her elbows, indicating that protecting one-self and another from a fire was no easy task.

Even in her condition she didn't look like she felt any pain, but her eyes fluttered around aimlessly as she muttered the words "Damien" and "where's my son" under her breath like it was a practised prayer or a demonic ritual.

 

[lewism247]

Acento looked up at Vik'nar at these words, he knew that her son was most likely dead, he took him aside and asked "Did you see her boy?" In hushed tones, not wanting the mother to hear.

He knelt down beside her and started to clean off the sweat and blood with one of the spare pieces of cloth.

 

[The Zango]

"And it would be a foolish, dangerous excursion to search for him, we must focus on our mission if we are to arrive, let alone finish, in one piece" said Ra'ive his tone mirroring Acento but showing little emotion, he felt regret for the mother and the child but they could not afford any further delay or injury.

They had to move on

Though Ra'ive knew that his views, while logical, would most likely be side-lined by Ellondra, Landon and Vik'nar's overly moralistic natures.

 

[lewism247]

"Real smooth Ra'ive" Acento said, a slight hint of contempt in his words, even if he was probably right it was insensitive to say it.

 

[Slycne]

What have they been doing while I was away...

The strange realization rolling around in his head as he spotted the black rock bowl and Acento stumbling over to him. If his tripping up wasn't enough to give away his semi-drunken state, the smell of whiskey was. It was peculiar that there was no immediately apparent discord over these acts, but perhaps now wasn't the time nor the place, or simply they'd been preoccupied with other matters.

He let a low sigh escape as he sat there breathing heavy from the act of carrying a body up and over a wall and across a field, all while moving slowly enough to not get noticed. Vik'nar was just barely starting to regain feeling in his finger tips, lifting them was out of the question at the moment.

"Sorry, I'm going to need a little help with that." Hopefully someone wouldn't be too embraced to pour some water down his throat.

---​

Returning Acento's hushed whisper with his own, "No, perhaps it was what she was reaching for, but the boy didn't emerge once I dispatched the goblins. I didn't have time to go looking around though."

He turned his attention back to the woman, "What happened here?"

 

[Jav3lin]

The woman was terrified still. Her eyes wide and crazed.
"They came, they came through the gates like there was nothing there. They climbed the walls and everyone was dead within the hour..."
She shivered and tears began flowing.
"I took Damien .... my son.."
The woman looked at Vik'nar.
"Where is my son? Is he okay?... he's probably still with his father"

 

[lewism247]

"of course" Acento tipped the flask and the water trickled down Vik'nar's throat.

he sat down and listened to what the woman had to say with a sense of sadness.

 

[The Zango]

"If you want sugar-coated words of comfort look elsewhere, I speak cold, hard fact" replied Ra'ive indifferently, the emotional bulkheads in his mind closing and shutting off any emotion in a well practised ritual, just as they did before a job because in his line of work, a sudden pang of conscience or emotion could stay your blade and end you.

He watched the woman, Acento and Vik'nar impatiently, wrapped in shadow, his ice blue eyes gazing down upon the trio. They were wasting time, they needed to be gone before the Goblins set upon THEM. They had gathered all the information they needed and now they were just idle, it was making Ra'ive uncomfortable to say the least.

 

[lewism247]

"Well you could have had the courtesy of keeping your thoughts to yourself or at least so she can't hear them!" Acento was trying to keep his temper in check.

 

[Cinnonym]

"Enough." Ellondra took Acento's flask of what was presumably water out of his hand, assisting Vik'nar herself. The state their company was in, they may not even last until the next morning. She was bitter, and frustrated. Keeping herself busy was the best preservation for her sanity.

The Captain still retained some of the salve which she had used in Sweare. She applied it to the woman's feet, though it may do them little good in that state, and to her joints. When she'd bandaged the poor mother, she treated Vik'nar in a similar fashion.

"We have an obligation to exorcise the goblins from whatever's left of the town. We have need of shelter and there may yet be survivors like this woman," she paused, feeling the silence and its implications rest heavily on her shoulders. "...And Damien..."

 

[Dragon_of_red]

Evela was still lying on the ground, he wished he could do something, anything at all. This woman was in tears over her child might be lost, he needed to do something. He rolled into his front, picking himself up. Almost falling over and holding his head like he was drunk and hungover at the same time, he said "If we go back in, I can control some of the fire, give some people some time, hirt some goblins"