"Lies not told, Wickedness behold"
It has been two days since the dwarves escaped the nameless village, with their lives still intact. By night time when they entered Vanadheim. At the same time, far south-west of the vanadian border. What formed is a brief meeting between two captains. Garlandth Fonthurman, a raid captain in charge of the recent attack at the nameless village near the western territory of Tel'anurr, an elven kingdom. He's about to meet up with his fellow captain named Jerome Bucklesweat. Another higher knight class, within the same league with Garlandth. Both bearing the emblems of golden hawks, a symbol of rulership and dominance. The other captain just finished his own raiding expedition from the far cold north, near the borders of the vicious barbarians, called Uthragon. A recent encampment, housing many refugees or rebels. One week was planned just for this single mission, of hunting down unclaimed territories, widening the control of influence, but especially a wanted criminal on the loose. Vanadian king Odovacar Faux, ordered the “Outliers,” a group of elite class warriors, feared and renowned from the western part of Kindraire. With Garlandth owning its first position, while Jerome coming at its second. The kingdom was hectic and tense from within, as their are many rumors passing around about an impending revolution, in which caused the mission. A conspiracy yet to be revealed, as the pendulum swings faster.
The two captains met just north-west of the vanadian border. Garlandth arrived pretty late, while leading a massive line of thick iron carts, accompanied by many numbers of knights and wizards. Inside are either chained, tied and beaten up slaves of war, and among are fairly young women, and sadly young children. The minority mixed in them are wounded rebels, identifiable with their motif of a blue dove patchwork on their torn old sleeves. One of the severely wounded rebels are shouted both in pain and anger, requesting for his immediate death, mocking the captain for they already know themselves what awaits inside the kingdom.
“U-Ugh…bastards!” The wounded guy spat blood, staring at Jerome with extreme hatred. His blood coloring the bars he held.
“Shut your mouth! Captain Jerome, we should just kill this fool, a literal deadweight to us anyway!” One wizard demanded.
“Ah, but you see…he still has some use to us, No! every one of them has their part of course! Let em live for a while.” Jerome smiled.
“But—“
Instead of words, what followed is the sound of the wizards head dropping on the ground. The same instance they realized that Jerome was already at the front, walking towards Garlandth.
“KYAAAAAAAAHH!” One terrified woman cried, same with the others, realizing that any resistance is futile.
The gathered men mumbled among themselves from the brutal spectacle. They didn't blinked yet the captain appeared faster than a shadow! And the laughter of Garlandth is heard as he welcomed his fellow captain.
“My, my! Quick as always Jerome. You could’ve have listened to his suggestion, my friend!” Garlandth jokingly said as he pat the left shoulder of Jerome.
“Enough with jokes Garlandth, I have no time for futile requests and nonsensical bickering…were sitting ducks over here! Wasting our precious time, instead of making progress back home! How about you listen and move your men already!” Jerome ordered.
“Now, now…of course, of course! Surely we’ll get there and attend the grand ball!” He followed.
"YOU will attend, I will manage the prisoners with their transportation down in the dungeons, this is how important our part. The king is impatient and doesn't accept any delays!" Jerome said in a very serious tone.
They both glanced at the already tense prisoners, and as expected if they do nothing to quiet them down. It will be a rough night for both of them, especially inside the kingdom until their transportation in the dungeons. And the last thing they want is to cause chaos inside, in the middle of the night.
“You there magic girl! Torrar is it? Put some silencing incantation for every prisoner. We don’t want a noisy adventure do we?” Garlandth ordered one of the elite wizards, accompanying Jerome’s regime, wearing a dark violet hooded robe, designed with intricate arcane letters.
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“As you wish, master Garlandth!” Torrar said.
She slowly lifted both her outstretched hands with opened palms. Pointing towards the iron carts filled with people, and softly uttered.
“Silent meadows, crush the harrowing sounds of sirens, push onwards their particles, and swallow it whole! Incantation number six, Harrowing clasp of Sirens!” Torrar shouted, with shining purple embers seen inside her eyes.
And within three seconds, the noise noticeably slowed down, until their mouths cannot produce any sounds or voice. The whole army cheered for a bit until Garlandth finally announced an order.
“Army of first to second! Listen closely, we are not to stop one bit, for we are nearing our home, wonderful Vanadheim! Move forward lest you don’t want to lose your head! MOVE!” He ordered.
The march started slow but gained a reasonably pace in which they conquered many miles more until the kingdom. The two captains talked about their raid exploits, especially the one mission Jerome was set, near the borders of Uthragon. As they walked, he led Garlandth towards the front iron cart, where a single prisoner resides from within, sitting in an awkward position. A sign of extreme fatigue, with bloodied bruises. The strange man not hidden with any upper fabric, showing his facial appearance. To Garlandth’s shock, the man has a jaw or lower half of a red dragon, with a right arm full of draconian scales, missing his other. And eyes hidden by his silver hair, stricken with dried blood.
“Our most wanted draconian man, Maxinus. We caught him near the base of the cold mountains beside Uthragon. My intel was wrong sadly, it was not a massive encampment, but a single tent housing this hybrid fool! He willingly surrendered without a fight, and him being an infamous warrior. It is strictly advised from the start to capture him with at least one Outlier.” Jerome accusingly stared at the chained man.
“My…then it is indeed a good mission for both of us! Just some hundred casualties from our side, just to find the fool!” Garlandth said, hiding his true expression on the matter.
“This is our main objective from the start, my friend…to locate and capture this draconian rebel. And with his imprisonment, a lengthy torture will surely make him rat all Vanadheim’s trouble. The secret mercenary guild called ‘Exile,” The Blue Dove vigilantes and the last remaining rebels.” He followed.
“And what of his connection, I don’t clearly get it. For who do he really work for? And are you sure you’ll get a single letter out of him?” Garlandth followed.
“It is confirmed that he’s a double agent for both the rebel army and Blue Dove. And as for the mercenary group, I'm quite sure…that is why I keep reminding you the possible outcome that we might get in wringing him out of information, he is a big deal whether we like it or not.” Jerome cleared.
“I suggest for you to inform our king about the matter, as soon as possible when we enter. And as for me, I will handle the rest..." Jerome bluntly said, gaining a lead in front of Garlandth.
“Well…I have one also Jerome! My trip from the nameless village was for naught. During our burning, one alleged rebel member pleaded to us with some VALUABLE information about a three faction meeting…”
With sudden interest. Jerome glanced back at him while still walking. Eyeing his fellow with seriousness. Garlandth shrugged and smiled at his friend, as he catch up to explain some more.
“You see, it is revealed to me that all their leaders from Exile, Blue Dove and the rebels will meet up in a secret underground sewer, rumored to be at the central plaza. A well prepared schedule, a year in the making he said! And that’s not all, apparently to him, a former Outlier will attend, representing the Exile group!” Garlandth revealed.
Jerome suddenly stopped from walking.
“The former third Outlier, Conrad Darkweave! What in the blazes is going on...”
“Is that all you’ve gathered, nothing more?” Jerome asked.
“Eh, that is all we got from the foolish rebel…before we killed him, of course!” He smiled.
Jerome nodded, and continued on, leading the entire band at its front, beside his fellow captain. Out from all the Outliers. Both Jerome and Garlandth was the closest of ally, not trusting the others from their lists of elites. Jerome was older or wiser than his friend, but has extreme physical prowess, challenging those even with innate talent for magic. While Garlandth on the other hand may seem childish, but was gifted with immense arcane power and aura, in which helped him by mastering “The Three Arcana,” the core foundation of magic in Kindraire. The two didn’t trust their fellow Outlier without a word from the other. And so their bond throughout the ages became solid, and treated each other as a true brother.
“It has been bothering me with curiosity, but what in the blazes are you wearing? Where is your issued armor?” Jerome asked.
“Hah! You see I also met this dwarven brothers. An interesting pair I tell ya! They owned an emblem, sadly...one of em called me ‘lad’ instead of my name! Heck, if it weren’t for me they would’ve been blasted the second they entered that measly village.” Garlandth said with a quick laugh.”
“Probably one of our local merchants…that chest plate suits you well but discard it once we enter, that cross irks me for some reason.” Jerome requested, giving a bad look at the armor.
“Now that you think of it, this symbol looks familiar, but is nowhere found throughout the many kingdoms of Kindraire. Don’t you agree?”
“Hmf, considering our pasts, before waking up here in Kindraire. The likes of us being labeled as an ‘Outlier.’ Same for me actually, that cross does bring back some distant memory, a memory that should be forgotten! Lest we anger the king.” Jerome said, seeming more of an order than a answer.
“Tssk! Whatever…” Garlandth yawned.
“Did you even searched their vehicle? I don’t want to ask any more but, you do know that is a common procedure when inspecting a visitor ? Working within the kingdom doesn't excuse anyone, you know that.” He asked, with one lifted eyebrow.
“Nah…considering the squads mission and our designated time of reunion. It was hopeless to waste my time to those creatures, and the only thing they did good was to give me this metal.” Garlandth followed while pumping the foreign chestplate with his fist.
“Right…”
It took them a full two hours of marching until they reached the perimeter of Vanadheim. Lining up the seemed endless long caravan of slaves. They slowly entered the pearly gates, led by the two captains. And from there they parted ways, Garlandth went straight towards the royal hall, while Jerome accompanied by the wizard Torrar, head down towards the massive dungeons of Vanadheim. Hundreds of empty old cell opened as one by one, filled with individuals whose fate is still undecided. They threw the draconian man in a well lit cell, guarded by two elite warriors, and one being Torrar as their wizard.