The Bloodied Shield
Page 20
But Indbore Fel already had the finer things in life. Even now, Fel had more coin than some Nobility. He had women that ached for his touch. The swordsman did not need land, coin or title and as of late, only cared for the company of himself.
Because he craved the infamy. The Fear. People who knew him on sight would scramble out of Indbore Fel's way like sheep before a hungry wolf. Those who did not knew the name, and were quick to react to it like it had been a curse and cowered before him.
And then that Fear had been stolen from him.
And they laughed. And they pointed. Fel had been sure of it. They never dared do it to his face, but once his back had been turned, Fel knew they smirked at him.
He regained some sort of respect, however, when Fel had been described by many as being a stalwart hero during the defense against the Undead Hordes, complimented even by Nassin Weavering before their untimely demise. There had been less mockery. Fewer snickers and smirks at the once most feared man in Westwatch.
Yet the crowd still parted a little less slower than they once had done. Fel could tell and it annoyed him of course. All could do was grip at his steel all the tighter, and scowl.
Soon Fel will do battle with Jeria again.
Soon, that Fear will return.
But did he really want it?
Indbore Fel slipped from his horse when he arrived at where Gorgreen instructed him to go. Some home near the Sea Gate along the Western Wall. The question nicked at his resolve as he ascended the stairs.
It caused him to hesitate. To shift on his footing and look back.
There were people milling in the cobblestone streets. Conversing of the weather, the prices of grain and cattle. Few debated whether or not to help the Din being displaced in the Dock District. Others talked of the rumors that Malto had already Fallen to Darkscale influence, or Orcs who claimed Icewyrm Wall to the South.
Or how a Vampire was currently controlling the King of Rilstar with their magic stick.
There were sharp barks of laughter that attracted Fel's attention. Children too young for schooling or apprenticeship playing in patches of grass that decorated their front yards. There were Mothers, some Fathers, Grandparents or Aunts and Uncles watching on their young ones protectively.
They wore a varied of clothing with no real discernible style. Some colorful and eye-catching, some drab and dull.
They all seemed content. Oblivious to what was really happening behind the scenes of their day to day lives.
And Indbore Fel wanted to rule them? Have them fear him? Why?
Indore Fel honestly did not know why he, nor anyone else, should disturb these people from just being content.
Fel turned sharply from the scene and faced forward, biting at his own lip. Why doubt when they were so close to Gorgreen's end game? Do as your Master bid and be done with it, Fel growled at himself and turned towards the door.
Inside the house was typical, simple wooden walls with simple wooden furniture, left unpainted and untouched short of dusting. Heading inside, Fel quickly found the stairs leading to the basement and had been greeted by one of the men wearing the twisted, black armor of some long forgotten knightly order.
Heading below down a short flight of steps, the Swordsman inspected a small group of men in leathers and chain armor, all wielding whatever they could get their hands on.
"Who is in charge here?" Fel demanded, and a young man stepped forward after a moment of hesitation.
"I am, Lord."
"You understand what you must do?" Fel questioned, looking over the men.
"Yes, Lord. Take the crates to the Southern edges of the bulwark and leave'em there for them Kallax chaps."
Fel nodded once, "Payments have already been given through our outside source, you do not need to linger, just leave once you've placed the crates."
"We will wait until dark, my Lord." the young man bowed humbly and fearfully.
Fel nodded and took a step upstairs before stopping. Shifting his weight slowly, he regarded the dregs who all wore Thieves Guild Insignia’s wherever they could put the little badge.
They were low lives, common thieves, and bandits. Murderers all.
"Do any of you have family?" Fel questioned suddenly.
The room was silent. Mostly out of fear of a man who killed for the sport of it. They had seen more men fall at the hand of this man for virtually any sort of failure.
"I do, Lord." someone at the back finally found the courage to speak up.
When Fel did not react violently, others followed. There were, surprisingly to Fel, very few who did not have a Wife, a Mother, a Father or children they were supporting through their meager life of crime.
They had flunked testing, did not make the grade or were not of the right temperament. This was, to them, the only way for them to make any sort of money.
The Swordsman said nothing else and headed up the stairs once more.
Fel had mounted his horse again and had ridden up to the main road to head out of the City when some called his name.
Disturbed from his thoughts, Fel could see a Guard on horseback wearing the half cape that marked them as one of Gorgreen's Guards.
"My Lord Fel!" the Guard rushed up towards them, holding out a missive. They were out of breath, and their horse was coated in sweat. They had been riding all morning it seemed.
"I am glad I could meet you here. The Lord Gorgreen's Property, the Tavern he had closed? It's been Intruded on."
"By whom?" Fel took the message, "And why?"
"It is an Elf who claims they are Razzar the Red. They assaulted a few guards and destroyed some of our weapons."
Fel read what he could of the report, but the Guard's summary had him lower it.
Lord Gorgreen needed to be informed at once. Why bother going to an abandoned Tavern? Perhaps that complex below it?
But why?
"I will attend to this, I was already on my way out there." Fel stated, passing the missive back to the Guard, "Take this to the Lord, tell him I am already on the way to investigate it myself."
The Guard bowed, before heading eastward towards the Noble's District.
Fel headed outward, frowning in thought. Out of all the other thoughts that plagued the man, now another surfaced to his relief, drowning out all the rest.
What was so important at the former home of the Shadow Guild that warranted a visit from one of the most Legendary Warriors on Rals?
Arriving, Fel's horse nearly collapsed out of exhaustion. It was nearly half-days' travel to arrive. By the time he slipped off the horse the stars were twinkling in the night like the roaring torches held in the hand of members of the crowd.
There were Guards standing post, with dry vomit on the street. As Fel approached, they parted with bowed heads, except one, a Sergeant, a young man himself who shook their head sadly at the blond headed swordsman.
"Sire, I would not wish for you to see what is down there. It is, worse than the sewers during the dead's march."
Fel looked beyond the young Sergeant, before simply holding out his hand. "Torch."
One had been offered and Fel took it. He was directed to the stairs where the Elf had disappeared with what appeared to be two companions. None of them have come up, and not a single Guard dared to enter the complex hidden away behind the false wall.
Death rolled from the opening, and there were strange creatures, overly thin, black and simply horrible to look on. They chilled Fel to the bone simply gazing on them, but the horror of whatever these things were did not last long.
That horror was soon replaced by repugnant disgust as Fel braved the dark with men following him like frightened children.
They had reached the room where the bodies were strewn out around them like little more than discarded playthings. Fel could feel the bile touch the back of his throat. The smell of stale death, the raw carnage, even the buzz of a few flesh-eating flies that somehow made it down here.
This was something nightmarish.
”-Sergeant where is the Captain of this District?" Fel turned slightly to regard those behind him.
The Sergeant had stepped forward, having followed closer to Fel then the others. "Missing my Lord, he disappeared less than a week ago. Got a missive to report here."
"I, think he's dead somewhere in there my Lord."
Fel closed his eyes and turned away from the carnage.
"Investigation underway?" Fel questioned, opening his eyes to peer at the Guards.
"Lord, no one has seen those things at the entrance before, and none wish to linger near the dead, not after Ulimax's Return."
"Cowards then?" Fel sneered, glowering at the Guards, before offering a quick gesture with his free hand, and they flinched as if expecting him to draw his sword.
They were not the 'True Black', City Guards who were corrupt and uncaring of the depravity that happened around them and knew enough to stir trouble, and if little more. This group were new, so new that some had small patches of facial hair on their chin. Their armor was old, missing links here or there and patched with leather strips.
These were the Guards who walked the day. Yet where were the ones who walked the night?
"No, I do not recognize any of you save you, Sergeant. I recognize you, you were with us in the sewers were you not?"
"Yes Lord, I do not lack the courage, but I am not ashamed to admit that I am not that bright, nor am I fond of this place."
"Where are all the Veteran Guards?"
"Gone Lord. We do not know why or where. The Captain recently promoted me to Sergeant before they disappeared themselves."
Fel frowned. There was no real reason to be rid of the Guards here. Unless of course, they were sent to other districts to make mischief in some fashion or form. But why deprive a District of Guards?
There had to be something else to it, Fel would ask his Master later.
"It cannot be helped. Razzar the Red went down those stairs and never came back up?" Fel questioned on, turning once more to the sea of gore within the chamber. "And there is only one obvious path forward."
"Sergeant send a missive to the Port District, they have capable Investigators in their ranks, perhaps this new Lord Jakuul there will lend us a few. The rest of you lads draw steel and stick together. If it moves, aim for the head and do not become bitten." Fel summarized, pulling his own sword out. "Razzar the Red is down here somewhere, he either needs aid or can garner us some sort of insight of why he is down here in our Lord's Property."
Fel hesitated a moment before crossing the threshold and turned slightly again to look over his shoulder once more.
"Do not fret about your safety, I am with you."
It was an awkward reassurance. Especially from Indbore Fel who had been notorious in killing someone at the bat of an eye for one reason or another.
But there was something different in Fel's voice. Something different in the way he carried himself that made the other guards less fearful of what may lay before them.
Indbore Fel was with them.
And that gave them courage.
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The Stone Samurai was closed. It had not been the first time it had been shut down to the public of Rilstar since its grand opening some thirty years or so.
But it was the first time Grigs Warstalker had been ushered into it like some sort of dignitary late for a meeting. If it was not for the fact that Grigs knew his Father would be here, or should have been here, it might have been a pleasant sensation.
Despite seeing his Father sitting on the bar, with Zansui nearby, Grigs felt a heavy sense of dread. It was the way Charles turned to him, giving him a sympathetic look.
The tear streaked face of Triden, and the look of astound horror on Zansui's.
Even Jeria, that stoic bastard who did little else but express rage or nothing, gave Grigs a very solemn nod.
At first, Grigs believed he knew what the looks were for. Triden was a bit banged up. But the dwarf was alive.
"My Granddad isn't as kind and understanding as most of you." the Tiefling started, but Zansui looked to the floor once, and then back to Triden. "He was bound to come up here after the Guild Fell, just a matter of time?"
"I think you should tell him." Zansui made a motion with her head towards Grigs.
Triden gave her a shameful glance.
"Do it, or I will."
Triden shifted, and nodded once before making his way off the bar counter. Taking hold of Grigs, the dwarf sat his son in a chair, before crawling up one himself across from the Tiefling.
Taking in a single breath, and sighing, Triden spoke a single sentence.
"Indbore Fel did the deed, lad, but Kral had me Lulu killed."
It took Grigs a moment to register what had been said. The Tiefling's body slackened in the chair, and his eyes grew distant, fixating on a far wall.
Dratin, who had been allowed in behind him, had been mindful of placing her hammer down before putting her hand over her maw.
As Grigs processed the information, Jeria regarded the Broodling. Her arm had been in a sling, and her chest had been completely wrapped in bandages.
"What happened to you?"
"Invaders." Dratin summarized. And before Jeria could ask where she told him. "In the Shadow Guild complex. Razzar left to go inform the Castle."
Jeria's expression twisted, but fell silent, perhaps out of respect for Grigs.
"I knew things were bad between you and Grandad." Grigs said slowly, and the Tiefling shook his head in denial. "But to have mom killed?"
"Cause she be a Tiefling, little else then that." Triden grunted, their eyes welling with fresh tears.
"Why didn't you tell me?" Grigs demanded, turning stern. "Afraid I'd go after Kral? After Fel?!"
"Your right." Grigs nodded sharply. "I want to go after them right now!"
"You don't stand a chance against Fel," Jeria observed loudly.
"You think I care?"
"Your Wife would." Jeria shot back, pointing towards Zansui who had stood up. "And your children, who I may point out have pined for you as of late."
"Are you offering to kill him?" Grigs questioned, turning now towards Jeria. "Because if you are, no thanks."
"Indbore Fel maybe the one who killed your Mother, perhaps by the request of Gorgreen. But it had been this Grandfather of yours who demanded her death. He was the one to betray you, your family, your friends and your precious Shadow Guild." Jeria stepped forward to square himself with Grigs. "Do you think that Dalitrous Gorgreen would not use a family connection against you or Zansui if they had known?"
Grigs shifted on his feet, still grasping at his swords.
"No, your Grandfather knew. He knew exactly who he pointed them towards."
"Fel still killed her."
"He will be dealt with accordingly," Jeria remarked, tapping the side of his sword before looking between Dratin and Grigs. "Why were you at the Shadow Guild to begin with?"
Grigs remained where he stood as Dratin explained what the plan had been.
They needed something from the Shadow Guild's hidden armory in order to bypass wards to a warehouse that Rebekka wanted investigated.
"Where is this warehouse?" Jeria demanded, tilting his head to the side.
"Northern Quarters, second tier, little less than a few blocks from the Crusaders' Hold within Westwatch." Dratin took a moment to think on that. "We were to gather the items needed and send a message by Griffon to the Jakuul estates that she may begin a more open investigation."
"So far all the Lady Rebekka has done is comb over their finances, she hopes that the more scrutiny Sudenire's true intentions will be made clear. If anything or nothing is found, the City Liege will be close by on hand to deal with any repercussions. That at least had been the plan."
"Between the Invaders and Grigs finding what we found, that plan got scrap
ped," Dratin noted, giving the Tiefling a sympathetic glance. "Razzar says the warehouse can wait."
Jeria nodded once, scratching at his lower jaw. "I may be of help there, but I will not leave this district with an active Akuza and my own kin occupying it."
Charles stepped towards the front door, offering a wave. "I will check the progress of my men and our own little storehouse issue."
The comment had Jeria turn, snapping their fingers as if they realized something.
"Yes, the Writ, why didn't you secure of Writ of Inspection?" Jeria directed towards Dratin.
"Look, there is some elaborate, overly complicated load of shit between the King, Rebekka, and Gorgreen," Dratin replied bluntly, moving to take a seat on the floor with a huff. "I don't know who knows and who doesn't, all I want to do is hit things."
Dratin eyed her injured arm.
"Well, when I get better I will hit things."
"Gorgreen is working for the Darkscales." Grigs sat down again, the agitation and rage still clinging to his voice.
"A lot of secrets on secrets, like hiding who killed my Mother." Grigs shot bitterly at his Father. Triden flinched like they were slapped, and they sank lower within themselves.
"Dad I love you." Grigs stood, and hugged his Father. "Just, should have told me the truth."
"Couldn't risk losin' ye to." Triden clung to his son. "Be dangerous times, dangerous times."
"That would explain why Aunt Rebekka has been leery of him, and where he studied wizardry." Zansui offered quietly, then fell silent as Charles entered, followed by a Guard and Yunzo, whose arm was in a sling of its own.
There was an obvious, bloodied bandage at the shoulder. The cause had been what Yunzo quickly presented to Jeria.
It was a silver spike, and Jeria's lip curled at it.
"We killed a wretch who used a Din Spike Sword with the group's colors wrapped around the hilt." Yunzo reported smartly, "The sword, regrettably, fell between the boards on a pier we had backed them into, yet the spike lodged itself into my shoulder."
"Why is it my competent leaders are being wounded in the arm?" Jeria questioned dully, inspecting the spike before offering it back. "What else?"