Ch. 23
Prison Break
The following takes place between 12 p.m. and 7 p.m.,
on the day of the Execution of Spearmarshal Kormir:
To say the Plaza of the Five Gods was in ruins was an understatement. The plaza had been all but demolished, and it appeared that no efforts had been made to repair it in the months since the Sunspears met their defeat there. To one side, she could see the massive crater that Kydar had made when he'd smashed open their escape, and whisps of smoke still rose from out of the hole. Had he been there, Rakiv was certain he would have been proud of his handiwork. The ranger turned her gaze across the square, and felt a cold chill run down her spine.
The cobblestones of the Plaza were black, not with demonic ooze or unworldly taint… but with human blood. The blood of Sunspears and Kournans marred the plaza floor, and though the stench had long since dissipated, something about it still made Rakiv's stomach turn. In the center of the Plaza, the dais of the demolished shrine still stood and bore the weight of the craven cauldron from which Varesh had summoned her first demons. The cauldron continued to pour black mist over its edge, and above it a small torment portal crackled silently with malignant energies.
"Oh there you are!" Alendra called, as the party approached, "We had no idea where you… oh… gods.."
The disgused guildsmen came to a stop, and stared into the Plaza with the same disgust and horror that Rakiv had. Rakiv finally turned away, and strode several paces down the hall, feeling the sudden need to put distance between herself and the terrible spectacle.
"By what evil art…?" Rojis began with horrified wonder.
"This is… awful," Alendra breathed, "Just… awful."
"That's not all," Rakiv said quietly, "Look up."
The Plaza of the Five Gods had once born grand mosaic depictions of the six great deities, each displayed with as much reverence and grandure as the dervishes of old could muster. Varesh had seen fit to add a final, blasphemous coup de grace, to complete the desecration of the once holy temple. The mosaics had been demolished, torn from the walls with reckless abandon. Colored blocks and tiles littered the blood soaked cobblestones at the base of each mural frame, thus obliterating the depictions of the great pantheon. Only one had been left in tact, the mural of the sea god Abaddon, whose six godly eyes still stared down into the Plaza.
However, Varesh had not allowed the murals to go unrepleaced. Where the murals once decorated the walls, the Warmarshal had redecorated them with the bodies of her enemies. Ragged skeletons in tattered Sunspear armor had been pinned to the stones by their own spears, left unburied as a punishment for their actions against the Warmarshal. Lonai tore off her helm and stumbled to a near by stall, seeking some place to be sick in private.
"She has gone mad," Dunkoro summarized, his eyes narrowed with outrage, "She has truly gone mad."
"No great leader does this…" Koss said, anger causing his voice to shake, "This… this is evil. This cannot stand!"
"For now… it has to," Rakiv said.
"But…!" Alendra began.
"Would you rather blow our cover?" Rakiv asked, half turning her head to them, "Loose our chance to save the Spearmarshal? Get ourselves killed, and leave the others to fight this war on their own? Would that honor those men's sacrifice?"
The former Sunspears were silent, and Rakiv shook her head sorrowfully. The ranger paused, closed her eyes and took a breath for focus. They had a job to do, and no matter what had happened or was happening around them, they had to push on. When she opened her eyes they shone with renewed, steely focus and she gave a curt nod to her companions.
"We're moving out. Margrid, where's that vault?" she asked.
"Uhm…" the corsair murmured as she squinted at the map, "Thhhat way… yeah, it's near the quartermaster's warehouses."
"Then form up," Rakiv commanded, "Secure those prisoners. March."
The orders were quickly obeyed by the guildsmen who found it easier to put aside their wrath when they focused on the demands of their commanding officer. In tense silence the disguised guild squad marched south through the ante-sanctum, following Margrid as she led them towards her treasure. The corsairs kept quiet, rather afraid that any word from them might invoke the ire of their enraged escort. Thus it was a quiet procession that made its way through the lower market square and arrived at the warehouses. On their way the party had met no interference, nor seen any Kournan soldiers at all. It was Lonai who remarked upon this curious fact.
"Where are all de soldiers?" the necromancer asked curiously, "Wit' de Warmarshal comin' too-day, me t'inkin' der'd be more protection for her."
"Whatever Varesh had in Gandara is probably in the gulf by now," Rakiv theorized, "She'd need a pretty big offensive to push back the Istani navy."
"Tell ya the truth, that ain' all the offendin' she be doin'," Jerob No-Spine added.
"What, yew boys 'eard somthin' I ain'?" Margrid asked curiously.
"We was listenin' while the guards was talkin'," Suwash said somewhat excitedly, "It were like we was spies or somethin'!"
"An' what'd they say?" Margrid questioned.
"Oh jus' some stuff 'bout h'invadin' Vabbi," Fahij chuckled, "Sayin' it were fer the good o' Elona it was. Somethin' 'bout unitin' the whole continent an' bein' able to make everyone rich. Yew know 'ow them military types be gettin' all high n' moighty."
"Now 'at's fer true," Jerob shook his head, "Anyway, we 'eard they was amassin' up near Jahai. Gonna push roight threw an sweep 'em all away an' take all that gold for theysselves. It's downright selfish if'n ye ask me."
"Quoth the pirate," Dunkoro sneered.
"So that's why the troop concentrations were so heavy near the city," Nerashi said with revelation, "Has she been planning this all this time?"
"Vabbi would not be easily conquered…" Rojis muttered thoughtfully, "Istan was weakened by the loss of the Sunspears… but Vabbi has all its armies in tact. She'd need a much larger force to simply 'sweep' the merchant princes."
"Don't forget," Rakiv put in, "She has demons."
The reminder of Varesh's supernatural allies was a sobering thought for all present, and some murmurs of agreement passed through the group. At the mention of demons however, Koss' brow furrowed and he turned to glance curiously at Rakiv.
"Speaking of demons," the warrior inquired, "How did you kill that thing in the market? We threw all we had at it and barely even scratched it!"
Rakiv nodded slowly, considering the warrior's words, and then gave only a small shrug.
"You'd be surprised at what I can kill," she answered.
Koss arched an eyebrow in dissatisfaction with her reply, but was kept from further inquiry when Butter issued a warning hiss.
"Alright, look sharp lads," Margrid whispered, "An' jus' let me do all the talking."
The party gave nods of understanding, and reordered themselves into more formal marching lines as they rounded the corner. Between two expansive warehouses stood a small door that had been built into the fortress wall. At a glance it appeared fairly unremarkable, but a trained eye like Margrid's immediately knew better. Unfortunately, they were not alone. Between them and the vault stood a small congingent of Kournan guards, all lazing about in the heat of the day. The sun had reached its noon-day apex, and the cool ocean breezes were the only reprieve from the early autumn heat. As the party approached, the men standing guards quickly jumped to attention, and the biggest of them stepped forward to address the guildsmen.
"Hold there!" the man said with a voice in deep booming bass, "What business have you here soldiers?"
"We're to relieve you," Margrid reported, "Temporarily anyway. There's not enough men to go 'round and there's been an accident in the markets."
"What sort of accident?" the vault keeper inquired.
"One of the demons got loose from its handlers," Margrid informed, "Tore apart a whole unit before someone got a lucky shot off and took it down. Problem is the market's a mess and the Warmarshal could arrive any minute."
"Well why didn't you render aid?" the vault keeper blinked.
"We did," Margrid explained, "We're escorting these prisoners out to Bokoss, they were the previous unit's responsibility. Trouble is we also got word from a runner that the Warmarshal wants to have some finery prepared for the execution this evening."
"I hadn't heard anything about that," The vault keeper said, "Let me see the message?"
Several nervous glances passed through the party, but Margrid responded without even a moment's hesitation.
"Right here sir," she said as she held up a scroll and unrolled it, "It's encrypted, but the gate guard decoded it and read us the orders. We're to bring a selection of items from the vault to the prison, and they are to be in the Warmarshal's private booth before she arrives."
The vault keeper squinted at what he had been told were encrypted orders, but was in fact the coded map of Gandara. Fortunately for Margrid, her gamble paid off as the vault keeper found the markings and symbols to be entirely unintelligible. Fearing he might betray his ignorance however, the man gave a nod of feigned understanding and saluted to Margrid.
"Very well, we'll head for the markets," he agreed, and then chuckled, "The Warmarshal will bust us all if this place isn't up to snuff."
"Agreed sir," Margrid nodded.
"Alright.. we'll be right back," the vault keeper said, as he lifted a large iron key from his belt and extended it to Margrid, "Here's the key. Take what you need and make it quick. Those prisoners need to be in cells and the booth needs to be set before the Warmarshal gets to the pen."
"We will see to it sir," Margrid agreed as she accepted the key from the keeper.
"See that you do," the vault keeper responded, and then turned to his men, "Alright boys, let's move."
The vault guard hefted their weapons and gave swift salutes as they formed their lines. At a barked order from the vault keeper they began to march, and soon pass out of sight among the warehouses. The guildsmen watched them go, and once the soldiers had gone all eyes turned to Margrid.
"I cannot believe you just pulled that off," Alendra laughed, "He just gave you the key and everything!"
"Sure did," Margrid beamed, "That, land lubbers, is thievin' done right."
"Yeah, yeah," Rakiv chuckled as she waved a hand at the other ranger, "Quit showing off already and open the vault. It's noon already, we're running out of time."
Margrid gleefully sprang to obey the huntress' command, and inserted her newly aquired key into the vault door's lock. She turned the key and was rewarded with a heavy iron snap on the other side. The snap was followed by a creak, a long drawn out groan and then the unmistakable ear-splitting sound of steel sliding against steel. Finally the noise died down, and of its own accord the door popped open. Margrid blinked in surprise, wondering what sort of elaborate locking mechanism the walls around the door actually contained. But she soon found that she didn't care and happily rushed into the darkness of the vault.
"Oh boy," Jerob sighed, "The cap'n's got the scent. 'Twill be no calmin' 'er down now."
"Gone mad wiv da gold fevah she 'as," Fahij laughed, "That's cap'n Marg for ya. Nevah met a piece o' shine she didn't like."
"Well since we're officially accomplices now," Rakiv chuckled, "Might as well go in and see what we can snatch for ourselves."
The ranger led the way into the dark vault, and squinted against the shadows as she searched for some sign of Margrid. A spark pushed back the darkness and soon light began to fill the room as the corsair captain swept through the room, lighting several braziers with a kindled arrow. As the room became illuminated Rakiv took in her surroundings. The vault was actually an enormous steel box, around which the wall had been built. All across the room, decorative stands and display boxes had been neatly organized to contain the Warmarshal's wealth.
Rakiv noticed that one corner contained a number of golden trappings that bore the distinctive marks of centaur smiths, likely spoils Varesh had taken from the Sunstriders. Another corner contained fine silks and regal robes, a wardrobe that would make many a noble in Istan green with envy. Another corner however was quite plain, and contained several ordinary wheelbarrows, likely for transporting some of the heavier goods to and from the vault. The walls of the vault were lined with tall shelves that supported many lockboxes. Rakiv could only wonder what sort of treasures Varesh had stuffed into those. At present however, she contented herself to browse the treasury, looking for any object that might present itself as useful.
"Oooo!" Alendra cooed, "I love these earrings! And this necklace! Oh and those shoes are so cute!"
"Now that is certainly a very shiny sword," Koss chuckled, as he admired a gilded blade in its glass display case.
From across the vault several other exclamations of surprise or envy rose from the guildsmen, as well as their pirate 'prisoners' who had already begun stuffing their pockets with small bits of loot. Rakiv chuckled as she wandered across the vault floor, and then paused as a glint in the shadows caught her eye. The ranger lifted one of the standing braziers and carried it with her into the corner, seeking a better look at these far flung treasures. Rakiv set the brazier down and stared in awe at the racks before her. The stands bore weapons, and armor, and all manner of items and objects of war. And Rakiv recognized every single one.
A glass case contained the lamellar leather armor she'd worn as a teenager, and still bore many stains from some of her bloodier battles. Next to it, the robes and armor that Varesh herself had once worn as a young girl sat in their own display case. Several iterations of Yurukaro's armor had been placed on wooden mannequins, along side some of Kormir's own earlier rainments. Rakiv gave a light chuckle at the size of the garments, half-wondering if she had ever truly been so small. Gloved fingers stroked the glass slowly, before her attention shifted to a nearby weapons rack.
One rack bore several spears, of varying length and size. Many of them she only vaguely rememberd, but a particular pole arm drew her attention. It was a long bronzeheaded spear, the very same spear Kormir had carried when she and Rakiv had hunted Shelboh the Ravenous amongst the Jahai Bluffs. The ranger could still remember the way it had glinted in the sunlight as Kormir launched it into the mandragor's flesh.
The next rack, however, brought even stronger memories. It bore four large scythes, each carefully aligned with the others, and no two of them alike. Rakiv reached forward to caress Yurukaro's old draconic scythe, a blade that had been presented to the warrior girl by her commanding officer and caretaker as a birthday gift. Next to it, Varesh's embossed scythe hung from its peg and Rakiv gave another small chuckle. The weapon had been a source of much embarrassment for the girl. The other children had teased her mercilessly due to the fact that her father had insisted that she use the expensive weaponry he provided for her, instead of the standard issue materials utilized by everyone else. She also remembered the brawl that ensued when Yurukaro lost her temper with one particularly offensive boy and broke his nose with a single blow. The ranger smiled with mild pride, she'd earned her first black eye in that fight.
Kormir's suntouched scythe came next. A visually unremarkable weapon, but it had been crafted by Master Gehraz himself and presented to Kormir as a reward for the high academic marks she had received. Kormir had cherished the weapon, and Rakiv had to wonder how Varesh had managed to hide it away here in the vault. The final weapon on the rack was one that Rakiv knew well, her own scythe, the one that Eidolon had given to her. As a girl Rakiv had only seen her friend and mentor once every several months, for his travels took him far and wide. When he returned, it was with fascinating tales of far away places and all sorts of trinkets and souveniers for her. She still remembered the silver coin pendant she had proudly worn for years, until she'd lost it to the sea.
The weapon on the rack, however, was possibly his best gift ever. The ritualist had returned from the far, frozen north, a land he described as wild and savage, and had brought back a weapon for Rakiv. When she had first held it, the charrslayer scythe had been far to large for her, and much to heavy as well. Eidolon had laughed when she persisted in attempting to swing the oversized weapon, and had advised her to wait until she was a little bigger. Even still, Rakiv had practiced with it every day, training herself for the day when it would finally taste blood… a day that had never come.
"Better late than never?" she queried as she reached for the scythe and lifted it carefully from the rack.
"Oi! Rakiv!" Margrid's voice called from across the vault, "I need your hands!"
The ranger chuckled at the request, and decided to quickly do a little looting of her own. She snatched a scythe holster from a nearby shelf, and lifted the bronzehead spear and one of Kormir's shields from their racks as well. Her sister would need weapons once they had freed her. Satisfied with her haul, the ranger trotted through the maze of shelves and racks to find Margrid standing over a broad stone pedastle. The pedastle held a rather large lockbox, which was currently on top of the corsair woman's hand. In her other fist, Margrid held a large, heavy looking sack, and she looked up at Rakiv with a strained chuckle.
"See… this here box is on whatcha call a counterweight," she grunted, "If'n I let go, the vault'll seal us in and won't be no getting' us out 'til the Warmarshal gets here. What I'm needin' ya to do is grab that there box, n' lift it away while I hold down the counterweight, n' then put the sandbag on it to keep it down."
"Sounds simple enough," Rakiv said, as she reached for the box.
"Ah! Gotta time it right!" Margrid said, "Counterweight's too heavy fer me ta just keep it pushed down fer more'n a second or two. We gots ta be real fast here. So on my mark."
Rakiv took hold of the lockbox and looked up at Margrid as she stood at the ready.
"Three… two… one… pull!" the corsair commanded.
Rakiv yanked the box away, which proved to be somewhat heavier than she had expected, and watched as Margrid went into action. The corsair woman lunged over the pedastle, putting as much weight onto the rising counterweight as she could as she hefted the sandbag on top of it. The added weight of the sandbag did the trick, and the counterweight ceased to rise. The corsair breathed a sigh of relief and chuckled happily as she took the lockbox from Rakiv.
"Mission accomplished," Margrid grinned.
"Not just yet," Rakiv shook her head, "We've still got to get out to Bokoss."
"Course we do," Margrid agreed, "An' dun you think I fergot, cause I didn'."
"Good," Rakiv chuckled, "So lets' get out of here."
"Right, jus' lemme give some orders t' me shipmates," Margrid said, "They'll be helpin' with the after party."
The ranger gave the corsair an odd look, but said nothing else as Margrid strode away. It occurred to Rakiv now that she hadn't actually considered an exit plan, she'd been too focused on getting to Kormir to think of anything else. The huntress' mouth twisted with displeasure. This sort of oversight made her feel sloppy, unfocused, undisciplined. Of course this had been Margrid's operation to plan, but even still… the ranger couldn't help wondering if she was starting to slip. She'd become awfully sentimental in the last few days, and prone to visiting old memories she had intentionally put behind her. Perhaps Kydar had a point… perhaps her emotions were clouding her judgement.
"Rakiv! We're moving!" Alendra's voice called from the vault doorway.
"Dammit…" Rakiv muttered to herself.
Outside the vault, each member of the party busied themselves dividing up the lockboxes they would carry with them into the prison. The pirate prisoners were busy loading other boxes into their pilfered wheelbarrows.
"Now, remember," Margrid was busy instructing, "Straight to the docks. Dun get seen, dun get caught, and dun lose anything!"
"Aye, aye cap'n!" the three corsairs agreed.
"Get a move on then," she said, "An' somebody get a hold of Lem! He's tryin' ta escape again."
The bound and gagged pirate had edged several paces away from the guildsmen, and at Margrid's call glanced over his shoulder. Nerashi sighed and strode after him, even as the corsair quickened his hobbling pace in an effort to get away.
"Whoa, you planning to fight the whole Kournan army?" Koss asked, as he blinked at the arsenal Rakiv now carried on her back.
"Says he who is now carrying three swords," the ranger laughed, pointing to the guilded blade he had stuffed through his belt.
"It's more of a fashion statement really," he claimed, "I mean, who would seriously swing a gold sword any anyone?"
"C'mon guys!" Alendra said impatiently, "We're burning daylight. Kormir doesn't have all day!"
"Aye, we bes' get ta movin'," Margrid agreed.
Several loads were hoisted and the group split ways. The three corsairs bumbled off towards the lower markets, bickering between themselves on the nature of stealth and the need for such finesse during their current operation. Margrid led the party east and set the pace at a double-timed march through the marshalling square. The sun had already begun its descent from its noon-day zenith, indicating to the guilds men that their time was quickly running out. With dusk approaching, the Warmarshal could arrive at any moment and Kormir's execution would be close at hand. As they drew close to the eastern fort wall, Margrid sidled up to Rojis and nudged the elementalist with her elbow.
"Right so, what were that passcode you got from that cap'n?" the corsair asked.
"Don't worry," Rojis chuckled, "I'll take care of it."
As they party exited the marshalling square, they came to the eastern end of the outer keep, where they found themselves staring at a sheer wall of cobblestone and mortar. Such a wall was a curious thing, as pavement was not optimal when constructing a solid defense. Margrid however was not fooled, for what lay before them was in fact the path to Bokoss Prison.
As a correctional institution, Bokoss Prison had been founded only four years ago, and the stones of the edifice still bore their polished sheen from the mason's tools. Much like Istan, Kourna had once kept all its miscreants and law breakers on large prison ships, achored far out in the gulf. Unfortunately, several riots caused a number of such vessels to catch fire and sink. Many on the Tribunal were suspicious that Varesh herself had caused these disasters, as a means of executing en masse those whom she deemed unworthy of life.
To counter such accusations, and to clear her name, the Warmarshal decreed that a new house of correction would be established, somewhere remote where containment would be easy and escape would be impossible. Construction had begun and was finished in just under two years, and Varesh unveiled her creation as the premire means of containing all manner of criminals and low-lifes. With her state of the art containment systems in effect, the Warmarshal poured all of Kourna's worst offenders into the dungeon deeps. Raiders, thieves, rapists, murderers and all manner of depraved men and women were incarcerated here, most of them meant to languish in darkness for the rest of their natural lives.
"Only a few will ever be getting' outta Bokoss," Margrid concluded her explanation, "An' them be the really, really lucky ones."
"So I guess Simon ain't so unlucky after all," Koss chuckled.
"I'm not worried about getting out right now," Rakiv broke in, "How do we get in?"
"Please, Officer Maelstrom," Rojis chuckled as he gave her a short bow, "Relax, and watch a master infiltrator at work."
Thus saying, Rojis trotted away from the group and towards the small guardhouse that stood beside the cobblestone wall. A hatch on the guard house swung open and the disguised Rojis conversed with soldier within. The group watched anxiously as the elementalist spoke and gave several, comically large gestures, apparently explaining their situation. The soldier responded with equally exaggerated movements, but appeared to finally accept Rojis' explanation. The hatch on the guard house closed, and a moment later a great creaking sound reached their ears. Rojis stepped away from the guard house and returned to the group, smiling triumphantly behind the visor of his helmet.
"What did you say!" Alendra shouted over the noise of creaking chains.
Rojis didn't reply, instead waving for the group to follow him as he started towards the cobblestone wall. With a heavy crunch of stone the wall shifted and slowly began to open outwards, its top edge being lowered by enormous iron chains. The wall was, in fact, a drawbridge, easily the largest one in Elona. As the bridge lowered before them it opened up a view of the ocean beyond, and the guild was able to appreciate the natural defenses of Bokoss. The prison was built on an island, far from the mainland and far from Gandara. The waters below roared as massive white breakers surged inland. In the wake of the giant waves, jagged rocks could be seen below the surface of the ocean, and more than a few skeletons were visible amongst the submerged crags. Attempting to escape the fortress by swimming was suicide, which left the well guarded drawbridge as the only way in or out of Bokoss.
"And that is why we never dove off of the eastern wall," Rakiv said.
"How do we expect to get back down this bridge with the Spearmarshal in tow…" Koss asked, scratching at his afro, "Without getting shot, or somebody pulling up the bridge?"
"Simple," Margrid said, as she set foot on the bridge, "We're going to run."
This was an entirely unsatisfactory answer for many, but with time continuing to tick by, they had no time to waste arguing. As Margrid started across the bridge the party followed her, moving at a light trot to speed up their pace.
"We're gonna have to do this fast though," Rojis advised, "The guard back there said that there's been word from the Warmarshal, she's in Poghan Passage and will be at the fort gate within the hour."
"Then speed it up," Rakiv ordered, "This is going to be a close call as it is. Margrid, I think it's about time you told us the plan for this prison break."
"Plan is simple," Margrid claimed, as she unrolled her map, "High priority cells are on cell level C. Seein' as this is the Spearmarshal we're talkin' about, I'm guessin' that's where she'd be. Anywhere else in here, and she'd probably be able to escape."
"She was hurt pretty badly at Gandara though…" Alendra said worriedly, "Do you think she'd even be able to escape?"
"If she's alive," Rakiv said with conviction, "Then she'd have tried."
"What makes you say that?" Rojis inquired.
"Because I would," Rakiv claimed.
Conversation fell to a lull as they approached the gates of Bokoss. The gate to the penitentiary had been opened and a pair of guards ushered the group inside, advising them to hurry and get their prisoner down below. Once they had passed the gate keepers, Margrid turned to the party and quickly issued instructions.
"Right then," the pirate ranger said, "Rojis, Dunkie, Rakiv and n' me are goin' down below. 'lendra, Koss, Lonai, Butter and Nerashi, you get all these lockboxes up to that booth. We've still got a cover ta maintain."
"Giving up treasure, pirate?" Dunkoro asked with a hint of scorn, "Didn't know you had it in you."
"All of that is worthless glass and bronze 'at I wouldn't even bother tryin' ta find a fence fer," Margrid sniffed, "I sent the good stuff with me men. Now let's get movin'. Sun's a fallin' and time's a wastin'."
As the party split to go their separate ways, Rakiv stopped and caught Koss by his elbow and pulled him to her.
"Somethin' wrong Rakiv?" the warrior asked puzzled.
"Shh…" she warned him, looking back at the retreating form of Margrid, "Look, Marg is alright, but I can't say I trust her judgment on this one. If things go wrong, we're gonna need more than speed and sneaking to get out of here."
"How can I help?" Koss asked, arching one thick eyebrow.
"What do you know about prison riots?" the ranger asked.
"Well I've started a brawl once or twice," Koss chuckled, "But if you really want a party, I'd open up the cells and let 'em have at each other."
"Then do what you can to find some sort of master lock release," Rakiv nodded to him, "And be ready if I give the signal."
"You think a riot will help us escape?" he asked.
"For what I have planned, it might," she nodded.
With that the ranger turned away and the warrior started off to catch up to his team. Rakiv turned to follow Margrid, who was busy hauling a very shifty Lem down the stairs and into the dungeons below.
The depths of Bokoss were a grim affair. As per Varesh's own designs, no light was allowed to penetrate beyond B level, leaving the lower levels swathed in darkness, lit only by sputtering torches. Here the corridors were narrow and cramped, likely in order to create numerous choke-points should an escape or riot ensue. There was, however, one large area left open in the center of C level. This was the prisoner exercise ground, a mercy that had been all but demanded by the Tribunal, in an attempt to remind the Warmarshal that these criminals were still human beings.
At present, the gymnasium was occupied by a number of criminals, all of them the most hardened and depraved rapists and murderers Kourna had to offer. Margrid boldly strode through the gymnasium, ignoring the hoots and calls that various men (and more than a few women) shouted at her and Rakiv. For her part, Rakiv had clench her fists as she resisted the violent urge to deprive one foul-mouthed (and fouler minded) convict of his tongue. As Margrid reached the other side of the room she stopped before a tall prison guard who guarded a gate to the cell wards.
"I got one for the cells," she claimed, "I'm supposed to put him in 3rd ward, C level."
"What's he in for?" the jailor asked as he flipped open his log to make a new entry.
"Drug runnin'," Margrid said, "Biggest stash of e-dust I've ever seen. Orders are he's to be questioned so we can find who he's smuggling for."
"Hmph, low-life," the jailor grunted as he snapped his log shut and unlocked the gate, "Lemme know which cell you stick him in when you come back up."
"Yessir," Margrid responded, "I'm also under orders to bring one up with me. The Warmarshal added another con to the execution list."
"Well best get them up to deadman's row quick," the jailor nodded, as he pulled a ring of keys from his belt, "Soon as the Warmarshal gets here, the show's gonna start."
"Understood!" Margrid saluted and took the keyring from the guard, before turning and giving a wave to her companions, "C'mon, let's get this sorry sod in a cage."
Lem struggled and kicked as they dragged him with them through the gate. The corsair frantically tried to make eye-contact with the jailor, grunting indistinguishably as he attempted to explain who these so-called 'soldiers' really were. For his efforts he received a rather vicious blow to the face from the jailor who snarled in disgust.
"Get below you scum," the man spat, "You've got a lot of sitting around and waiting to rot to do."
Margrid hauled the dazed pirate with her as they made their way down the steps and into the narrow corridors beyond. Rakiv felt a distinct sense of claustrophiba raise goosepimples across her skin, an uneasiness that was not aided by the nature of their passing. As they strode through the hall past heavy wooden doors, all manner of noises and sounds could be heard within. Frantic scratching, incessant babble and insane screaming resounded all around them, and all save Margrid appeared visibly shaken.
"Steady men…" Rakiv muttered under her breath.
"I've no love for such men of violence," Dunkoro commented, "But this hardly seems like justice."
"Eh, it's not so bad, once you get used to it," Margrid shrugged, "Did a little time here myself, back when the place was new. Got out on a technicality though. Gotta love the Kournan justice system."
Dunkoro gave a small, derisive snort but said nothing. Soon Margrid came to a stop and peered in through the barred window of a cell door. She stepped away and grimaced, before moving on to the next one, and then rapidly knocked on the door.
"Yo ho, ahoy matey," she called, in a sing-song voice, "And where are ye bound?"
"O'er reefs, drifts an' shoals," the answer came back, though much more melodic, "Where I'll ne'er be found."
"What sort o' mad bravery," Margrid sang in return, "Makes ye do such a thing?"
"The same sort o' folly," the voice returned, "Found in all us Red-Wings."
Margrid gave a gleeful giggle, easily the girliest noise anyone had heard her make, and quickly flipped through the ring of iron keys. After a moment she selected one and inserted it into the lock, giving it a firm turn and earning a satisfying click. The lock snapped open and Margrid grunted as she yanked the cell door open. From inside a woman dressed in a shabby prison dress, stumbled into the light, squinting against the glare of the torch. Rakiv arched an eyebrow quizzically, as she realized that the prisoner bore a striking resemblance to Margrid… so striking in fact, that had she not known better she might have mistaken them for the same person.
"I knew you'd come cap'n," the woman smiled.
"I'd never leave my little sister in the brig!" Margrid laughed, "Now c'mere you!"
The corsair ranger drew the other woman into a tight hug, and the prisoner laughed breathlessly with relief as she returned the embrace.
"Sister?" Rojis interjected.
"Oh, right," Margrid said, "She… well, actually, time fer introductions later. Shahai, Simon told me you been chattin' with the Spearmarshal. We're here ta spring her too."
"Oh… then you'd better 'urry!" Shahai urged, still rubbing her eyes against the light, "A couple o' soldiers come down here not a half-hour ago. They done took 'er up to deadman's row already!"
"Where is deadman's row?" Rakiv asked immediately.
"Jus' off the center yard," Shahai explained, "The yard doubles as the execution square. Had ya gone but a few paces past the stairs ta B level, you'da run right into it."
Rakiv didn't wait to hear more, and turned to dash madly back the way they had come. The alarmed cries of her comrades echoed through the hall, but she paid them no heed. Time was short, much too short. She would not loose Kormir again. As she exited the cell ward she found her progress halted by the gate, which she rattled impatiently as she shouted at the jailor.
"Let me out!" she demanded.
"Where's yer unit solider?" the jailor blinked as he fumbled with the lock.
"Down below beatin' on some prisoner," Rakiv supplied without thinking, "Let me out!"
"A'right, keep yer… shirt on…" he paused just as the lock snapped open and his eyes laid upon a particular detail of the soldier's appearance, "Wait…"
Rakiv did not, and instead pushed the gate open. She moved to brush past him, but the jailor stopped her by barring her way with his cudgel against her chest. Rakiv paused and looked up at him, fairly growling behind her visor as the captain studied her.
"You're showing a bit of skin there soldier," he said coolly.
Rakiv froze, and looked down. Her scarf had come unwrapped around her neck, and a strip of flesh between her collar and her helmet was exposed. The jailor clicked his tongue skeptically, as he narrowed his eyes at her.
"Now how do you come by skin that pale I wonder?" he queried rhetorically, "Remove your helmet," he demanded.
Rakiv looked back up at him, as he continued to study her, and she could see the growing suspicion in his eyes.
"Stand aside," she counter ordered him.
"I said, remove your helmet soldier!" he snapped, as he reached for her headgear, "That's an order!"
The last thing the jailor would remember was taking hold of the woman's helmet. With lightning speed, and brutal force Rakiv jumped straight upwards, ramming the top of her helmet into the jailor's face. The man toppled backwards, knocked out cold from the blow, but his grip on her helmet succeeded in pulling it from her head. A curtain of crimson descended about her face, and a wave of exclaimation passed through the gym.
"The Red Huntress!" someone shouted.
"Gods above, she does exist!" another cried.
"Don't look at her eyes!" someone else warned, "My cousin had a friend whose dog walker said he was turned to stone just by looking at her eyes!"
"To arms!" someone far more sensible ordered.
"Koss," Rakiv spoke into her guild emblem.
"Ahai, Guildmi… er, I mean…" the warrior began.
"Open 'em," Rakiv ordered, before the man could correct himself.
"One big bash, comin' up!" the response came back.
Immediately there was a heavy creaking of chains, iron bars and a scrape of wood that resounded throughout the prison. The prison guards in the room froze, their attention turning from the red-haired woman to the sound of hundreds of cells suddenly opening up. Tense silence reigned in the prison, and it was broken by the blaring of an alarm horn.
"Oh yew've done it now," Margrid said from behind Rakiv, "Jus' let everyone know we're here whydontcha?"
"Just did," Rakiv snapped, "Now move!"
The ranger broke into a sprint as she flew across the room, and chaos erupted around them. Realizing that they would soon have an advantage of numbers, the prisoners in the gym flung themselves at the guards, seizing various pieces of equipment to make use of as weapons. Rakiv sprinted for the stairs, just as a very large man in prison garb moved to block her way. The grin on his face told her he was looking forward to what he thought he would do to her. The ranger sprang forward, catching the man's head with both hands as she rammed her knee into his nosebridge. The prisoner collapsed backwards, and Rakiv rolled off of him, barely breaking stride as she bounded up the steps. She could hear her group behind her, hard pressed to keep her pace as she dashed upwards, flying through B level and finally breaking out into the daylight of A level.
The sun was sinking fast, already it was behind the walls of the prison, and the sky was beginning to change colors. Varesh was almost certainly in Gandara, and would arrive at the prison soon. They had to be out of Bokoss before she arrived.
"All units!" Rakiv shouted into her emblem, "Form up at the prison gate! Don't let them shut us in! I'll meet up with you in two minutes!"
Various confirmations of her order came back through the emblem, but Rakiv barely registered them as she sprinted down the hall. The way was clear without a single guard in sight and Rakiv whizzed past a sign indicating the way to Deadman's Row. The Row was a series of cages, barely large enough for a human to stand in, that sat at the furthest edge of the execution square. For the moment, only one cage was occupied, and a man with a massive battle axe stood at the open cage door.
"End of the line Spearmarshal," the executioner spat the title, "You're finally going to pay for all those good men you killed."
"You speak of your fellow soldiers?" the woman inside the cage assumed, "You are mistaken Kournan. If I am guilty of any crime, it is only that my zeal led so many Sunspears to their deaths."
"Heh, ever proud," the executioner sneered as he leaned on his axe haft, "We'll see how high you can hold your head when you're swinging from a…"
The executioner never saw his killer's face. For the second time, Rakiv jumped from a dead sprint, her momentum carrying her far and high as she landed on the executioner's shoulders. The man gave a startled yelp as her momentum bore him backwards and to the ground. Before he could struggle, the ranger locked her ankles and gave a vicious twist of her hips. A deadly snap resounded through the square, and the executioner did not move again.
"See how high you can hold your head with a broken neck!" Rakiv snapped spitefully.
"Rakiv?"
The question, barely audbile, came with the softness of pure disbelief. For her part, Kormir had made peace with her fate, accepted the reality of what was to come, and in many ways had come to believe that it was perhaps, what she deserved. During the dark months spent in the deepest parts of Varesh's dungeon, she had all but given up hope… and it was hope that now stood outside her cell.
"You gonna just sit there?" Rakiv asked breathlessly, "It's almost sunset. We haven't got all day you know."
A smile crossed the Spearmarshal's face, and she gave a grunt as she uneasily pushed herself to her feet.
"I missed you too Rakiv," she chuckled as she turned to stumble out of the cage.
"I brought you something," Rakiv smiled proudly, "Something you'll…"
The ranger trailed off as she looked up… and saw what had become of her sister. The once proud Spearmarshal of the Sunspears was a shadow of her former self. She was obviously thinner, due to malnourishment, and a number of marks and wheals lacerated her arms, legs and shoulders. Her hair had grown long, and now reached the middle of her back in thick, dirty dreadlocks. She had been dressed in a too small, too short prison dress that barely afforded her any dignity, and she limped across the cobblestones on unshod feet. But when she looked up, Rakiv felt her breath hitch in her throat.
"Give me a moment sister," Kormir chuckled breathlessly, as she leaned against the cage opening, "It has been sometime… since I've been up and about."
"Oh no…" Rakiv gasped, dropping her weapons and rushing to the taller woman, "Kormir… what did they… do to you?"
"My hosts were less than gracious," Kormir managed to laugh nervously again, "I recall in your report on what happened in the Sunspear crypts on Istan… you mentioned General Kahyet threatened her god would eat your eyes?"
Rakiv nodded slowly, her own eyes still wide with disbelief. Kormir turned her head down to face the shorter red-head and gave her a wry smile.
"It seems she was serious," Kormir said, "Quite serious indeed."
The Spearmarshal pushed aside the curtain of dreadlocks that covered her face, and Rakiv gave an odd croak of horror. Kormir wore a blindfold of dirty cloth, apparently material she had torn from her own dress. The blindfold had been soaked through with a dark liquid that pooled about her eyes and spread across her nose. The strip of cloth had been woefully inadequate to stop the flow of viscious liquid, and the overflow had left dark, crusted streaks to stain her cheeks.
"I am afraid that night has fallen," the Spearmarshal said, as she allowed her hair to hide the wounds once more, "At least for me…"
Rakiv could not speak, and indeed she wouldn't have known what to say if she could. Instead she swallowed and leaned down to retrieved the weapons she had dropped.
"Can you carry a spear?" the ranger managed to push past the lump in her throat.
"I can," Kormir said, as she reached out and felt along Rakiv's arm until her fingers found the haft of the spear, "And I think I will feel the better for it."
"And shield?" Rakiv asked.
"Please," the Spearmarshal chuckled, "I may have lost some balance, but I lack nothing in strength. From the alarms I hear, I assume this uh… rescue mission, didn't go as planned?"
"We have thirty seconds to meet up with my team," Rakiv reported, her voice tight and forced.
"Then we'd better move," Kormir said.
The woman exited the cage and rose to her full height, giving a small grunt as she stretched out her spine. She gave an experimental jab with her spear and hefted the shield, lifting it quickly from thigh to neck and then back again.
"I remember these…" she said fondly, "I am surprised you found them."
"I'll explain later," Rakiv nodded, "Right now, we need to leave."
"Then I will follow your lead," Kormir said, but quickly drew her arm back as Rakiv reached for her hand, "Oh please, now you insult me sister. I may be blind but I have other senses. Now lead; I will follow."
A small smile crossed Rakiv's face. The executioner had been right about one thing, Kormir might have been bruised and beaten, but a proud warrior she remained. With this in mind, Rakiv turned on her heel and took off at a run, listening to the patter of her sister's feet behind her.
"Rakiv!" an alarmed cry came through her emblem, "The riot is out of control! They're raising the drawbridge!"
"Dammit!" Rakiv exclaimed as she snatched up her emblem, "Everyone across that bridge! Now!"
"Yes ma'am!" the answer came back.
"Unless my ears deceive me," Kormir spoke up, "We should be running faster."
The clanging of gongs was added to the uproar of the prison riot as the brawl spilled out of the depths and up to the surface. Paniked guards dashed up the stairwells, followed by enraged criminals and prisoners. Rakiv and Kormir sped past the fray as a group of guards were overwhelmed, and cried out as the prisoners set upon them with murderous glee. A gong on the prison wall was silenced as a pair of convicts pulled the watchman off his post and flung him from the prison wall. The ranger and the paragon sprinted onwards, flying through the square and out of the prison gates. Already the bridge had begun to lift, and the cleavage in the center was growing wider by the second. Despite the fact that the bridge was quickly rising, Koss and Alendra stood at the edge even as it lifted into the air, shouting to Rakiv and Kormir and urging them to run faster.
"When I tell you, jump!" Rakiv called back to Kormir.
"I get the feeling that this will be yet another one of your close calls!" Kormir called back with a laugh.
"Why on earth… are you laughing!" Rakiv asked, panting deeply for breath.
"Because I missed your close calls!" the paragon called in return.
Rakiv couldn't help but chuckle, though she quickly returned her focus to her run. The going was steadily growing steeper, as the rising bridge forced them to dash uphill. Koss and Alendra managed to keep their balance on the other side, holding their arms out and continuing to shout to their commanders.
"Ready…" Rakiv called out, "Jump!"
Ranger and paragon reached the edge of the bridge and pushed off hard. The moment seemed to last forever, as Rakiv glanced down to see nothing but air between herself and a long drop to the water and rocks below. The next moment Alendra caught her arms and Rakiv found herself standing on quickly tilting, but solid ground. Koss gave an exclaimation of surprise as Kormir's jump caused her to actually sail right into the warrior, and both nearly tumbled backwards down the rising bridge.
"Slide!" Rakiv immediately ordered, "Quick, before we're too high!"
With that the ranger jumped, and skid down the cobblestones towards the solid and unmoving ground inside the fort. The warrior and paragons followed, using their shields as toboggans which sent them rattling down the incline. Rakiv stumbled as she reached bottom and gave a grunt of discomfort as she rubbed at her bruised posterior. At the bottom of the bridge, the other half of her team stood at the ready, staring across the square where a contingient of Kournan troops were forming battle lines.
"Well, this is a fine pickle isn't it?" Margrid grumbled, "Jus' had ta go an' clock 'im didntcha?"
"Oh stop whining," Rakiv snapped as she drew her bow and reached to her quiver, "Rojis, what are we up against here?"
"It looks like the Warmarshal's personal guard," the elementalist spy replied, "I've only seen a few of them before, but word is… these guys are good."
Before Rakiv could continue her inquiry, a shout from across the square cut her off as a Kournan commander stepped forward to address them.
"Traitors to Elona, hear me!" the man shouted, "This is Captain Nebo of the Kournan Elite Legion! You are commanded to drop your weapons and stand down immediately! Submit to our justice, and we will have mercy on you!"
"Alendra…?" Kormir asked, as the man continued to speak.
"Ahai, Spearmarshal?" the paragon answered.
Kormir's response was a single, fluid movement. The Spearmarshal stepped to the castellean and snatched a javelin from the shorter woman's quiver. With a rapid pirouette, Kormir gave a powerful shout and launched the spear through the air.
"If you do not comply, we will use deadly…" Nebo continued, before he was rudely interrupted by the javelin that struck him through the chest.
The Kournan soldiers stood in shock as their captain was carried off his feet by the blow and pinned to the cobblestones, where he writhed in agony before breathing his last. Among the guildsmen, several eyebrows raised in surprise and soon their eyes turned to Kormir. The Spearmarshal cocked her head curiously and pushed back her hair from her ears in an effort to clear her hearing.
"Did I get him?" the blind woman inquired.
"Well… yes, actually you did," Koss responded incredulously.
"But dem no' be 'appy 'bout eet!" Lonai warned, "Here dey come!"
An angry warcry rose from the squadron of Kournan Elite soldiers, as they raised their shields and brandished their swords. Soon the square was filled with the sound of thunder, as the Kournan unit charged towards the guildsmen.
"Marg, where are we headed?" Rakiv demanded.
"The port," the corsair answered, "I've got a ship waiting."
"Don't we have to cross the markets to get there?" Koss shouted over the din of oncoming soldiers.
"We can make our way through the port authority buildings to the southwest," Kormir advised.
"Right, but first, we have to deal with these bastards," Rakiv nodded firmly as she dipped a hand into her quiver and drew out a fistful of arrows, "Men! You all remember what we saw in the Plaza?"
"Aye!" the shout came back from her party.
"Good," Rakiv growled, as she notched six arrows to her bow and aimed for the sky, "Cause it's payback time."
"Warmarshal I must insist that you remain with the elite guard," the deep voice of the Kournan general protested, "It is for your own protection."
"I need no protection Bayel," Varesh snapped as she strode through the ante-sanctum halls, "Question me again and I will have you in irons."
"Yes… Warmarshal," Bayel responded tensely.
"Warmarshal," her second general spoke up as he released his guild emblem, "I've received word from the guard. Nebo's unit has been eliminated, the traitors were last seen proceeding southwest through the offices of the Port Authority."
"That is preposterous," Bayel interjected, "They will trap themselves between us and the sea. These terrorists are not so foolish as to take such a risk."
"The sea is not a trap, Bayel," Varesh spoke, "But a means of escape."
"There are no vessels scheduled to dock today," Morghan said with mild confusion, "Who would send an unauthorized ship into a military fortress?"
"Someone who knows that all our vessels are currently in the gulf," Bayel said slowly, as the revelation dawned upon him, "Someone who knows that once they are out to sea, we have nothing that can chase them down."
"But there's no way she could possibly know that," Morghan snorted, "The invasion fleet plans have been top secret for weeks. How could that information have leaked to that guild?"
"You insist on underestimating her Morghan," Varesh responded in terse, clipped tones, "It is a mistake of which I grow weary."
"Had I not been reassigned," the fourth member of their party spoke, "The humans would have never left Bokoss alive."
"Silence, Hunger!" Bayel erupted, seeking a target for his ill-temper, "You are in the presence of your betters, hound. And you will speak when spoken to."
"It is unwise, human, to presume to command one who is vastly your superior," the Hunger responded venomously, "My allegiance lies with Abaddon, and my duty is to High Prophet Ossa. But I do NOT answer to you. Are we clear?"
Whatever retort Bayel had prepared died on his lips when he found himself suddenly facing a cavern of razor sharp teeth. The Hunger's maw was easily wide enough to consume the man whole, and in a single bite… though Bayel would have ensured it was the most painful bite the Hunger ever took. Still, it was imprudent to argue with a demon several times his own size, and so Bayel gave only a low growl of annoyance but said nothing.
Varesh had long since left her bickering generals behind, her purple dresses swishing about her legs as she strode swiftly through the halls. The Hunger was correct. Varesh had assigned him to guarding the Spearmarshal for this very purpose. But when Bayel announced that the Acolytes had been defeated, she had been forced to approve his requisition of the boar-like demon. Without the Hunger's work in tainting the northern territories, the Drought's mission would surely fail. As it was, all was still going to plan, and the Elon would soon be under Varesh's control. Being deprived of her prize prisoner was, in the grand scheme, a minor annoyance… but an annoyance that Varesh's pride could not suffer.
She left the ante-sanctum, skipping quickly down a flight of steps and making her way rapidly through the lower markets. Here she could now see the trail of destruction her sisters had wrought. Fires burned amongst overturned bags of grain, and tents and stalls had been demolished by hefty strikes and sword swings. Amongst the dye pits, the Warmarshal found her way suddenly blocked, by an entire unit of her elite guard who lay amidst a veritable thicket of red fletched arrows. The outraged growl at the loss of her men's lives rose from her throat and she stormed onward, her strides widening as she gained greater speed.
Wrath boiled within her, hurt and frustration towards those she had once called 'sisters'. She had spoken to them all, explained her ambition, given them every possible chance to turn from their false deities and embrace the one true god. She had not wanted this, this wanton bloodshed, the waste of good men and women in a pointless war. Her god had assured her that with the coming of his kingdom, there would be a place for all men of all walks of life. Only the unjust, the unrighteous, and the wicked would know his wrath. Perhaps she had deprived her people of a few small comforts, but it was for the greater good! Her armies could not march without food and water, and she knew her men must march.
Istan's obstinance had proved this much, the Council had practically demanded open war by supporting Kormir's invasion. The battle she waged now was purely retaliatory, to ensure the safety of her shores before she made her journey north. She would come to the Princes as an ambassador, and a missionary. She would tell them of the glorious kingdom to come, and explain to them the blessings that Abaddon would bring. The Princes were men of wealth, of glory and of wisdom, she was sure that they would heed her words. After all, her request was more than reasonable. She had no need of their surrender, nor was there any cause for them to relinquish their sovereignty. Indeed, they would be raised up as Kings in the world to come, so long as they granted her one small favor.
But if they did not, her men would march, for they must march. For the good of Elona, and indeed for the good of the world, she would see to it that the will of her god came to pass. In the many hours she had spent amongst her books and tomes, she had dreamed of that moment, the moment when all her labors came to their grand fruition and she could bask in the glory of Abaddon himself. She was sorry only, that her friends, her sisters… her family, refused to stand by her side.
She could hear the clatter of boots and armor as reinforcements rushed to the docks, but it was far too late. The Warmarshal strode across the stone wharf, and tromped onto the wooden pier. A merchant vessel, with sails of deep crimson, pulled away from the arms of Gandara and out to the open sea. Varesh stopped at the edge of the pier, her eyes squinting against the glow of the sun as it set in the west… and her gaze locked with that of another.
The red hair billowed on the wind, in much the same way that the Warmarshal's own purple skirts did. Violet hues stared hard into Varesh's own brilliant ambers, in a stare that ignored the distance between them. Varesh's fingers curled into a fist, as she felt her face contort with confusion, pain and sorrow. Why? Why could they not see? Kormir's fate was only that which was just, that which her god had commanded. Varesh had daily offered her sister every chance to recant, begged and pleaded with her to see the light. Kormir had chosen this, though Varesh had tried her best to save her. Surely her younger sister could see that, surely she could understand!
But there was no emotion in those eyes, no sorrow, no remorse and no understanding lurked in those violet depths. Varesh pleaded, begged her sister to reconsider, but the huntress' gaze was hard and cold as stone. When last they had stared at each other over such a vast gulf, there had been regret in both their eyes, some remnant of the bond they once shared. But the bond was broken, cast aside by the red-haired ranger. Her eyes now conveyed a deadly promise, one that rang clear for the anguished Warmarshal.
I will kill you.
With a furl of red-hair the huntress turned away as the vessel disappeared into the golden disk that burned its way into the ocean. Varesh's countenance fell as she closed her eyes and could do nothing but release a slow, shuddering sigh.
"We await your orders Warmarshal," Morghans voice spoke from behind her.
The Warmarshal of Kourna raised her head, and wiped a liquid streak from her cheek before turning to those assembled behind her. Wrath twisted her features, as she stormed across the pier and onto the stone of the wharf. At her impassioned approach, the soldiers of Gandara quickly dropped to one knee and averted their gaze from their leader's eyes. Varesh towered over them, her teeth grinding audibly as she surveyed the men and woman who had so miserably failed her.
"I gave clear orders," Varesh snarled, "The Fortress was to be on high alert, all entrances guarded, and every man and woman accounted for. This was to be a day of victory for Kourna. And by your incompetence it has become a day of defeat!"
"My apologies Warmarshal," Guard Captain Kahturin said, not raising his eyes, "But one of your demo… er, associates managed to free itself from its handlers. It took us the better part of the afternoon to try and re-establish internal security!"
"I offer my apologies, Warmarshal," Vault Master Eijah spoke up at the same time, "We received word that you wished for finery to be available upon your arrival. We too were attempting to re-establish security, whilst making certain all was in readiness!"
"The prison guard offers its apologies, Warmarshal," Jailer Gahanni interjected, "After Prison Keeper Shelkesh was incapacitated, we lost control of the prisoners at Bokoss. The riot has yet to be quelled and we are still attempting to maintain containment!"
The excuses continued to rise from the group of soldiers, each officer hurriedly shifting the blame to their surrounding circumstances. Varesh closed her eyes, pressing her fingers to her temples against a growing ache in her head.
"Enough!" she shouted, silencing the crowd, "Who commands this fort?"
None were brave enough to answer.
"Who commands Gandara!" the Warmarshal fairly screamed.
"I-I do… ma'am," a man said, as he rose to his feet and stepped away from the crowd.
"Name and rank, soldier," Bayel demanded.
"Fleet Captain Delehn Neehda," he responded quickly, "C-Commanding officer of Gandara, the Moon Fortress."
The Warmarshal did not speak as she looked him up and down, her gaze narrowing slightly as she did so. She half turned her head to cast her gaze to Bayel, who confirmed the report with a curt nod. Her eyes turned past the general to the hulking demon behind him, who gave a low, sinister chuckle.
"Fleet Captain," Varesh snapped, "What have you to say concerning this unmitigated… disaster?"
"I-I offer no excuses, Warmarshal," the Fleet Captain responded honorably, "I was commissioned to command these men, and carry out your orders. I take full responsibility for this failure. I beg you Warmarshal, please accept my humblest apologies."
Varesh gave no answer, and slowly clasped her hands behind her back. Fleet Captain Neehda, fidgieted nervously, and then blinked in confusion as the Warmarshal took a slow step, backwards and away from him. Without hesitation, the Hunger pounced, releasing a ravenous roar as his teeth closed upon the Fleet Captain. The man screamed as the demon bit down, sending a spray of blood across the soldiers nearby. Gasps of horror rose from the crowd and the Kournan soldiers scrambled away, as the Hunger devoured the Fleet Captain in a series of sicking snaps and crunches.
"Apology accepted," Varesh replied coldly, "Captain Neehda."
"Lyssa's mask…" Morghan breathed, "Varesh… what have you done!'
"What I must, General," she responded, "And you will refrain from invoking the names of heathen gods. The next time it happens, I will consider it an act of heresy. Understood?"
"I… but…" Morghan began, before sighing softly and giving an obedient nod, "Y-Yes… Warmarshal."
"Good," Varesh nodded, and then turned to her troops, "Hear me, and hear me well. I will suffer these inadequacies no longer. Soon we are to enter Vabbi, the territories of the Merchant Princes. Any officer who does not peform his duties with excellence and to the letter will…"
The Warmarshal was cut off when the Hunger released a sudden howl of anguish, and nearly collapsed in pain. The demon shuddered and shook, barking against the tremors of agony that coursed through his frame.
"What on earth are you on about now, demon?" Bayel demanded, indifferent to the creature's pain.
"No… it's impossible…," the Hunger gasped between pained breaths.
"Hunger, report," Varesh ordered
"The… The Drought," it responded, turning its head towards Varesh, "It has been… slain!'
"Absurd," Bayel scoffed, "The terrorists are resourceful, but even they cannot slay a demon."
"But there others yet in this world that can…" Varesh said slowly, tapping her chin with one manicured finger, "This… this changes things…"
"High Prophet," the Hunger spoke, "I have seen the Drought's final visions. I know where these heretics are going. Grant me your blessing to take vengeance upon them… and I will finish what the Drought has begun."
"If they have learned to slay demons, then I fear you will fare no better Hunger," Morghan advised.
The Hunger gave a warning growl to the older general, but the man was not so easily cowed as his younger colleague. Morghan's stare was resolute and unafraid, but the tension was broken by Varesh's order.
"Quite right Morghan," the Warmarshal agreed, "Bayel, take however many men you need and accompany him. Unless I miss my guess, they mean to make use of Bahdok Caverns. See to it that they do not leave those caves alive."
"Yes, Warmarshal," Bayel saluted, "It will be as you have commanded."
"I have every confidence that it will," Varesh said, though her tone belied her words, "In the mean time, Morghan come with me. There is still much to be done."
"Yes, Warmarshal," Morghan said.
As Varesh strode away, the oldest of the Kournan generals watched her go, and felt a great weight settle upon his heart. He had known the little Ossa girl since she was small, had watched her grow up, and had taught her all the things that her instructors and her father could or would not. Though they shared no blood bond, a father's instinct dwelled in him still, and he felt that a change had come over Varesh, one that chilled him to his core. But the sentiment was quickly expunged. Varesh was his Warmarshal, and he her loyal general. He would obey her as he had her father, and trust her without question. Yet beneath his conviction, the uneasiness still lingered and thus prompted a prayer from his lips.
"Lyssa, goddess of grace…" he whispered, "Have mercy on my soul…"
"Well," Margrid chuckled cheerfully, "All's well what ends well, aye?"
"Aye!" a cheer went up from her small pirate crew.
"Jerob, go below n' bring us up a cask o'… well, whatever we've got," the captain laughed, "This 'ere calls fer celebratin'!"
Another cheer went up from the pirates, and some of the guildsmen even chuckled as well. The red sailed vessel plowed its way through the briny ocean waters, as the last lights faded from the sky. Fahij and Suwash busied themselves lighting lanterns to hang across the vessel, while Jack o' Truths climbed into the riggings to redirect the sails.
"Steady at the helm there Hashak," Margrid called, "Keep us headin' south fer a bit. Keep us outta sight o' land."
"Aye, cap'n!" the helmsman called back.
Margrid chuckled as she picked up her precious lockbox and made her way to the ship's stern. Kormir and Rakiv sat together in relative silence, each appearing to still be catching their breath. The Spearmarshal held a broad smile on her lips as she leaned over the edge, enjoying the feel of the wind on her skin. Rakiv arched an eyebrow at her sister, and released a small chuckle of amusement.
"Laugh if you must sister," Kormir chuckled, "But this is a sensation I never expected to feel again."
"Well there be plenty of it ta be had out here on the open sea," Margrid said, taking in a deep breath of salty air, "Aaaah… now that be right proper air ta be breathin', an' no mistake."
"Thanks for all your help Margrid," Rakiv chuckled, "And uh… sorry I tackled you this morning."
"Psht, think nothing of it," she said, "Didn't wanna say it at the time, but I knew 'xactly how you were feelin'. Speakin' oh which… Shahai!"
"Shahai?" Kormir asked, as she turned back, "Shahai is here?"
"You betcha," Margrid chuckled, "Shahai! Get over here ya beady-haired floozy!"
"Now is that any way ta be talkin' ta the only family ya got?" the other pirate woman laughed as she approached.
Shahai had managed to procure a change of clothes, and had shed her prison garment in favor of bright magenta robes. A sturdy cudgel hung from her belt, no doubt stolen from the prison guard, and as she approached she uncorked a holy vial and took a quick swig of its contents.
"Rakiv Maelstrom," Margrid said proudly, "This 'ere be me twin sister, Shahai the Cunning. Best first mate a cap'n could ask for."
"So you're the famous red huntress aye?" Shahai giggled, "Oh Kormir told me so much about you!"
"She did?" Rakiv blinked in confusion.
"Shahai was kind to me in those dark cells," Kormir smiled, "Even after… after my sight was taken, she looked after me. I owe her much… more than I can repay."
"Aw shucks," Shahai smiled as she waved dismissively at the Spearmarshal, "'Twas naught but a trifle. Couldn't let the guardian of Elona go untended to now could I?"
"Yes… guardian…" Kormir murmured as she sank back to the bench.
Rakiv stared curiously at her sister, and began to ask what it was that had so suddenly dampened her cheer, when Jerob returned to the deck, and a raucous cheer went up from the crew. The cask was breeched and soon mugs were being passed all around of some strong smelling liquor. Rakiv accepted one such jug and sniffed at it curiously and looked up at Shahai.
"What is this?" the ranger asked.
The corsair woman took a quick sip, and swished the liquid about in her mouth. A moment later she swallowed… and then gave Rakiv an indifferent shrug.
"I unno," she admitted, "But it's good!"
Rakiv laughed lightly and after a moment's hesitation took a sip herself. Shahai was right, it was good, though it came with a wicked afterburn. As the ranger cleared her throat and scrunched her nose, she felt fingers slide over her own as Kormir felt for the mug and attempted to take it from her sister's hands.
"Hey!" Rakiv exclaimed, "No! You are still injured and haven't been properly nourished in… who knows how long!"
"All the more reason for a stiff drink, I think," Kormir quipped as she wrested the mug from Rakiv's grip.
Rakiv watched in amazement and shook her head as Kormir proceeded to down the entire contents of the container, barely even pausing for breath. A rapid clanging on the ship's deck drew her attention away from her chugging comrade, to where Margrid held up the lockbox she had so zealously guarded.
"And now!" the pirate captain announced, "The crownin' jewel o' our achievements! I give you… the Diadem of Lady Glaive!"
As the crew crowded around in hopes of glimpsing the treasure, Margrid lowered the box and fiddled with the stubborn lock. Several expletives and two lockpicks later, she succeeded in opening the box and withdrew the contents. The Diadem was a thin circlet of purest silver, accented with whorls of gold that spiraled around tiny diamonds. In the circlet's center was set a large sapphire, flanked on either side by a ruby and an emerald. Margrid lifted it high and the crew gasped in wonder as they gazed upon the single greatest treasure they had ever seen. Tahlkora raised her hands to give light applause, and a few of the other guildsmen joined her as Margrid reveled in her victory.
"Wait…" the captain paused, as she squinted at the diadem.
No one spoke as Margrid inspected her prize, turning the diadem this way and that as she bit her lip skeptically. With a sudden and alarming shout she swung the circlet and smashed it against the deck of the ship. Brilliant bits flew everywhere, sending flashing colored shards in all directions. The pirates gave various cries of dismay at their captain's actions as they scrambled to gather the shattered pieces.
"Cap'n, what 'ave you done!" Suwash exclaimed.
"I'll tell yew what she's done," Jerob cried, "She's gone an' flipped 'er rocker she 'as!"
"It's a fake you addlepated nitwits!" Margrid shouted, "A false, a fraud, a decoy, a cheap knock-off! Real gems gots a better shine than that, an' they sure as hell don' break when ya smash 'em inta wood! This 'ere is nothin' but bits o fancy glass!"
The pirate crew released various nods and sounds of understanding as they peered at the glass shards they had gathered. A few of them began to clap, and soon the whole crew was applauding their captain's brilliance.
"Oi that Cap'n Marg," Fahij smiled, "She's a smart one she is!"
"I'd 'ave nevah knowed that cap'n!" Hasahk exclaimed, "You sure gots a sharp eye! No wunner they calls ye 'the Sly'!"
"Oh shut up you idiots!" the captain snapped unhappily, "We jus' risked our necks out there fer nothin'!"
"Well not nothin' sis," Shahai smiled, "Yew sprung me outta the brig didn'tcha? That counts fer somethin'."
"Oh sod off," Margrid snorted as she stomped back to the discarded lockbox and dug inside, "Gotta be… somethin'… ah hah!"
"Wotcha got there cap'n?" Suwash asked, peering over her shoulder.
"Some kind of plaque," Margrid explained as she with drew a piece of smooth wood from the box, "Lessee…. Says here… that this be a 'replication' o' the Diadem o' Lady Glaive, which were given as a present o' esteem to Prince Bokka o' Resplendant Makuun…"
"So this here Bokka must 'ave yer crown then," Suwash concluded brightly, "So all ain' lost yet cap'n! We'll jus' go rob this 'ere prince!"
"Yer bloody right I will," Margrid said as she flung the plaque at him and stormed towards the stern of the ship, "Maelstrom!"
The pirate arrived to find Rakiv amidst a fit of laughter as she pointed at the decieved pirate captain. The ranger's hysterics were so forceful that she toppled off her bench, but continued to laugh. Margrid ground her teeth as she watched Rakiv rise to her feet and attempt to be serious. The red-head's seriousness immediately failed upon seeing Margrid's face, and she leaned against the corsair captain as she gasped between laughs.
"When yer quite finished mockin' me misfortune," Margrid sighed, "I jus' wanted ta letcha know that I'm comin' with ya."
"Coming… where?" Rakiv giggled.
"To Vabbi o' course!" Margrid cried, "Yer meetin' with the princes an' I gots business with one o' 'em. So I'm comin' with you!"
"Oh… oh alright," Rakiv said as she gulped for air, and then grinned at the captain, "Too bad about the tiara though. You might have been able to convince them you were the princess of the Kingdom of Glass!"
At this the ranger dissolved into hysterics once more, and an indignant Margrid strode away in a huff. Deprived of her support on the pirate's shoulder, Rakiv fell down again in the throes of another laughing fit. Kormir couldn't help but chuckle at the ranger's lame, and somewhat insensitive, joke and soon the whole guild found themselves laughing as well. With some cheer restored to the ship, the pirates decided that Shahai's freedom was indeed reason enough for them to celebrate, and set to passing out more flagons of grog. Suwash took it upon himself to strike up a song, and soon the whole ship joined in. As the pirate vessel sailed off into the ocean night, the Red-Wings' anthem echoed victoriously over the waters.
"Yo ho! Ahoy matey! And where are ye bound?
O'er reefs, drifts and shoals where I'll ne'er be found!
What sort of mad bravery, makes you do such a thing?
The same sort of folly found in all us Red-Wings!"