A shadow from the past - Severin's Tale

[Harper]

The Raven banked slowly over the burning city, buffeted by the rising thermals. In so much as human emotions could be ascribed to it, the Raven was profoundly unhappy. Given its free will it would have been roosting far away from the inferno below it, but the will of another bound it and kept it aloft in the darkness.

The burning Bakers Quarter passed beneath the Raven, flames and sparks shooting high into the air.

Earlier in the evening a huge fire elemental had been involved in a running battle with several Varanite Channelers. Mages and elemental where both long gone but the devastation caused by their battle continued unchecked.

Prodded by its unseen passenger, the Raven flapped slowly towards the Tower of Sorcery. Dasarian resistance had ended here as well. The Raven's passenger observed the orderly movement of the Varanites carrying their loot out of the tower onto waiting wagons. As the complex emotions of its passenger spilled over into the Raven's mind it cawed angrily and wheeled away from the tower.

Dropping lower, the Raven flew west towards its ultimate goal. The buildings beneath it now were older, many dating back to the foundation of Dasar hundreds of years earlier. Most of the inhabitants of this district had long since fled to distant locales. Those that remained were currently fleeing the city as best they could, streaming out the western gate, and, for the moment, the Varanites seem content to let them go.

Urged on the Raven beat towards a large sprawling building. Surrounded by a fence of iron railings all seemed quiet within the building's grounds. With a last flurry of wings, the Raven came to rest perched on spire above the large doors of the hall.

Tilting its head to one side, the bird clacked its beak nervously; fluffing out the spiky feathers about its throat, as again some of the emotions of its passenger leaked across the mental bridge.

A creature of daylight, the shadowy surrounds should have impenetrable to the Raven. A fact that the shadowy shapes in the nearby alley ways were undoubtedly counting upon.



Huddled in an alley, a short way from the hall, Cera opened her eyes and smiled grimly.



Severin ducked under a low hanging branch and paused to listen. The excited calls of the Gnolls still seemed to be some way behind him. With a weary sigh the ranger straightened up as best he could in the overgrown stream bed.

Another excited howl echoed up from behind him, only slightly closer.

Severin turned to look behind him down the overgrown stream bed, a worried frown forming on his lined face. It was strange that none of the hunting party had caught up with him yet. In the cramped confines of the creek the Gnolls would be able to travel faster than a man, their greater strength allowing them to force aside obstacles much more easily.

Severin's eyes narrowed and his face paled as he looked ahead along the creek.

"You old fool", he growled to himself, "The buggers have set up an ambush. And you were ready to walk straight into it..."



At a first glance the small group making it's way cautiously through the all but deserted streets of the city was unexceptional.

The two men were dressed in garb appropriate for a well to do merchant and his bodyguard. The elder of the two, the merchant, was carrying a small girl, probably his daughter. The child asleep in his arms, a scarf pulled about her face presumably to keep the worst of the smoke away. The group was completed by an aristocratically dressed woman, a heavy veil hiding most of her features.

It was a passable disguise and one Ba-Jiricek hoped would allow the little party of Harpers to reach the Harper Hall quicker than more stealthy means, although Kale in a skirt would obviously stand up to only the most cursory of examinations. However, provided Jesum, scouting ahead in the shadows was doing his job, the small group should easily avoid any Varanite patrols.

With a murmured prayer to Marduk, Ba-Jiricek adjusted the weight of the sleeping princess, the Hall was not far off now.

[Harper]

It was unusual to see a Dark Herald outside of the homeland. Almost as unusual as a Duke of Varana finding his judgement questioned.

As High Commander and a second cousin to the Emperor, as well as a powerful arch-magus in his own right, such occurrences were not something that happened to Duke Kanista as a rule.

Now, however, he found himself exercising all his powers of restraint resisting the urge to blast the masked upstart in front of him into a greasy stain on the floor. As gratifying as such an action would be, the political consequences where unlikely to be pleasant. The emperor had many second cousins after all.

If the Herald had any concerns standing in the presence of an angered Varanite Duke he was doing an admirable job of concealing it. The Herald's dull slate grey eyes gazed out of the shaped leather mask, meeting Kanista's gaze impassively, something few of the living could do.

The Dark Heralds were the voice of the emperor, sometimes literally. Through them the emperor could, if he so chose, speak directly to his subjects. It was said that only the priests of the temple at Dall knew the secret of creating a Dark Herald, a mystery carried from lost Exodon, predating the founding of Varana itself.

The Heralds voice rasped forth again, the echoes distorted in the shattered hall of the throne room.

"Why do you tarry here, the Emperor's orders are very explicit your Grace. You will open the portal this night, as the Emperor has commanded. The pursuit of an adolescent girl child and her accomplices can be left to one of your sub-officers. There is no room for personal vendettas in the Emperor's plan at this time."

Kanista found his hands involuntarily bunching into a fists. The temperate in the shattered throne room perceivably dropped as frost began to gather on the flagstones beneath the duke. Deep within his helm the flickering azure embers that were his eyes flared up brightly. He leaned in closer to the Herald taking petty satisfaction in the faint wisps of steam escaping from the mortal's nose as he breathed.

"Personal vendettas do not come into this," the Duke explained softly and patiently as if he was speaking to a young child. "We have the opportunity to remove the last direct heir to the throne of this infested country, here, tonight."

Still the Herald's grey eyes did not show a flicker of emotion.

"With all due respect, your grace," A slight emphasis on the title hinted that this might, perhaps, be subject to change in the very near future, "in the original plan you presented to the Emperor the heir should have died during your initial assault. I suggest you do not compound your initial failure by going against a direct order of your emperor."

For a long moment the tableau held then, with a repressed snarl, Kanista turned and marched out of the room to do his emperor's bidding.

Behind him the Herald absently brushed a faint dusting of frost from the folds of his cloak.

Cawing loudly the raven spiralled down out of the night sky, landing on the tavern sign with an awkward flaring of its wings. Tilting its head it gazed down at the small group of refugees and cawed loudly again.

Ba-Jiricek looked at the bedraggled bird. Bobbing it's head the bird appeared to bow to the Harper Lord. Beside him a slight shift in Kale's posture presaged imminent violence. Ba-Jiricek twitched his hand in a minuscule gesture, "wait", the ever observant weapon master relaxed again.

Certain it had their attention the crow preened it's feathers back into order then bobbed a bow again.

"Lord, I respectfully suggest you advance no further. The Varanites have prepared an ambush about the Hall", although distorted by the ravens limited facility to produce the common tongue the voice was unmistakably that of Cera.

[Holly]

(This is very good)

[Boon]

A trully great read. Bumping it to bring attention to any who may not have read it and in hopes that Harper will continue this bit of history.

[Ohio41]

I'm going to bump it now too, nothing like a classic for those who've not had the chance to read this masterful piece of History.

Harper, your skills are avidly missed.