Fire {Alrune&PHROST}

[Wild Dog]

The elf waited.

The room was small. Being located in the temple of Helgrind, the place was deserted. Decent people stayed clear of this dreaded place. Priests were once numerous in the halls. All they cared for was limbs and penances. Nothing more, nothing less. A rat would have been able to sneak into the kitchen and steal the pantry before any priest would ever pay attention to the outside. On one wall hung a picture of the temple, in all its glory. Priests once bowed down to the picture, the symbol of their religion. This particular room housed tables with shackles and chains. Their purpose was to hold down the worshipper’s body while the priest hacked and sawed limbs off. Old blood stains littered the cold, black stone, proclaiming the many victims. The air smelled of stale blood and unwashed clothing. Once, priests would be here, practicing their dirty work. Amid the screaming and the cursing, people would pay for their sins. However, in the middle of the night, nobody was around.

Two doors flanked the room. The far one was of no importance, just a secondary door that priests once used to enter the kitchens. Even priests had to eat. The outside world thought they ate rotten bread and drank only dirty water. Little did they realize the priests feasted as kings. The nearer one was of far more value. The head priest would once use that to enter his private chambers. Living in the lap of luxury, the head priest did not suffer as the other monks did. He still had his limbs attached. He would lounge around, periodically making appearances. When he did, he wore a robe, casting the illusion that he had no limbs. He also was overdue for a visit by the empire.

Patiently, Ra'Quden silently tensed and relaxed his muscles. He had a job to do. The head priest, Shan al’Riu, seemed to take things in his own way. Several items seeming given out of gratitude to the King turned out to be fake. Soldiers in the city serving under the king always seemed to have died under suspicious circumstances. The King wanted answers. Was Shan following the empire? Who was in control of the city? It was Ra’Quden’s job was to get them.
The plan was to sneak in as a guard, new recruit, and snag the Priest when he left the pulpit. However, first plan never worked out. Ra’Quden shot out of the hallway launching himself at the deformed figure in front of him, only to completely startle a regular priest. Of course, the elf had to kill him. No one was to know that he was here. Turns out, Shan was entertaining some important people at the time. An ambassador from surda, of all people. Now, the elf was going to wait until morning and interrogate the old fool. Slackers in the kingdom weren’t treated nicely.

Ra'Quden waited. His hilt lay by his side. Ever since he melted the blade off he was used to using a blade made from fire. However, in the middle of the night, he couldn't afford the light showing off his location. Now he needed to rely on his skill in fire-weaving. More specifically the art of cutting a persons air supply off by making the air rise by the lungs. Of course, just slitting the throats is easier.

Ra'Quden secretly dreaded the mission. If the priest somehow escaped, the city could suffer a coup. People would be revolting against the rule of the king and the city would go up in flames. The temple had enough soldiers to keep this city under their control. The last thing the King wanted was a city completely under its own banner. He made it painfully clear to Ra'Quden that that was not supposed to happen. Even the varden would fear the city. People would begin to worship Helgrind, to the point of insanity. Not that that was wrong. Ra'Quden would have gladly let the priest to do that. What is a little more chaos to this world? But the king, again, made it painfully clear, no coup. This was true only if the priest was guilty. The king sounded sure, but there was always reason to doubt.

What inflamed Ra'Quden was the rumors and the tales about an elf in the city. Spying, they said. Humph. If he ever would get his hand on the bloody son of a walking pig, he would wring the poor souls life right out of him. Of course, the Varden must be interested in the cities well being. Yes, a fine pot of fish. One wrong move and the city would go up in flames. Yes, a fine pot of fish.

[alrune]

Melissa had just arrived in Dras Leona she was making her way back the Varden Slowly and cautiously so as not to arouse suspicion. She thought it was about time relax and have a drink She made her way to the Closest tavern even in her human disguise she was absolutely beautiful. She new she was gonna be hit on.

She braced herself and walked into the tavern/resturaunt and took a seat at the bar the bar wench was came over and asked what she wanted. "I will take the house special and nice mug full of honey mead. The woman grabbed her mug and filled it with the honey mead. fifteen minutes later woman brought out a huge plate full of mash potatoes corn and a slab if gravy slathered pork steak. Melissa was one of the few elfs that actually ate meat.

A group of men tried to approach her she was dissuaded them by showing them her blade. She finished her meal and asked to rent a room for the night. She paid the cost of the room and took the keys from the bar wench and headed to her room for the night.

[phrostphyre]

Convel was on Donas, sitting outside Dras-Leona, watching a nice sized herd of cows being driven into the city for slaughter and sale. He and his band of merry cattle-thieves had stolen them from Surda and the Varden. Spurring Donas into a trot, he followed the herd and his men inside. He oversaw the sale and then divided the money up between men. They went to find the nearest flesh-pots and ale houses, while Convel searched for a place to get a drop of whiskey to wet his throat. After he did that, he would head for Surda to pick up a string of horses.

A likely looking place beckoned, and Convel dropped off Donas. Flipping a coin to the stable-boy, he winked at him and the boy winked back. Convel paid him to keep his ears to doors and tell him anything interesting he overheard.

Convel entered the tavern and was greeted by the sight of an elf showing a group of men a blade. He knew it was an elf because they all were arrogant bastards that needed punched in that perfect face of theirs, females included. He stepped to the bar and ordered. "Hey there Johnny, lad. I'll take a drop of the whiskey and maybe a bite of the roasted beef, aye? Going to hit up Surda for some horses next, maybe pick up a nice string to sell to the Empire's cavalry units. They do pay top coin for good horses. There's one stable master I know, he's got his eye on Donas, but I'm not selling. Maybe I'll find a good mare, aye?" Johnny listened and nodded. Convel MacTire might be an outlandish bastard, but he made good money stealing horses and cattle from the Varden and Surda, and if he wanted to drop some of that his way, Johnny was agreeable. The outlandish bastard also had a group of men who liked to frequent the place, too, meaning more money.

"I'll have yer beef and drink in a moment, Mister Convel, sir."

[Wild Dog]

Two bells.

Two clock.

The time Shan usually returned to his chambers for bed. While the rest of the city slumbered, he was out making sure ends met on his plan. Ra'Quden only had to wait a few more moments before the answers would come springing out. Silently, he pulled out his sword hilt. A shame the blade melted away, but this was all he needed. Footsteps. He tensed, ready to spring at any moment. All the answers would come out in the open. Was the city still under the kings control? Footsteps. Was the priest the one who killed the guards? Footsteps. Ra'Quden, some time ago, would have loved to help the priest out, but the King was his king now. A city needed to be under an unified government. The Varden, however, was a whole different story. Footsteps. Closer now, louder. More then one.

Snarling, Ra'Quden launched himself across the room just as the door opened. Three men, poised to strike, met him. Surprised, Ra'Quden ducked into a roll and bounded off the wall. Ready to strike? They knew he was here. One was tall, thin, and had a mustache. A long, wickedly curved sword gleamed in the light of the torch. The man carrying the torch carried no visible weapon, but his eyes shone with a power. Most likely a magician. The third wore a startled expression on his round face. A bootprint showed quite clearly on his chest. Well, Ra'Quden thought it was a wall.

Shrieking obscenities, the first man ran towards the elf, swinging his sword. Blazing out like a beacon, Ra'Qudens fire sword swung to meet his. A brief, surprised twitch in the swordsman's arm lowered his blow a bit and the elf ran him through. The magician lifted his arms and shouted something in elvish. A brilliant green light flashed in the room and a stone table collapsed. Well, a really bad shot. The third man, unfortunately, was no where to be seen. Cursing at his luck, RaQuden started for the door, intending to bowl over the remaining man. the third must have ran to alert others. The King's voice rang in his head, warning him of this situation. "This can't be happening" he thought. As he was running, he heard dimly the magician chanting. Immediately, the elf cursed himself for his carelessness, the man was still alive and fighting him. He forgot. Rebounding off an invisible wall, Ra'quden slid. Leaping back up, he spoke his word and fire danced across the floor. The other man doused it and blasted the floor up. Well, life couldn't be better. He flew into the other room. Picking himself up, he ran out the door.

Bells rang out

Alarm bells

Ra'Quden ran. Dodging people milling around, he sped somewhere safe, his mind racing. Shan knew. That was the only way they knew he was here. There must have been a mole in the government itself. Nobody outside knew he was coming. Only the King, come to think about it. Did the King set him up? Ra'Quden killed that thought quickly. No someone else then.

Around him, soldiers were filing out of barracks. Killing the occupants of the city? No. they seemed to be ignoring everybody and running to the walls. Fortifying the city then. Not looking for him. Reaching a inn, he dashed inside the stables. A magnificent horse was sleeping there, along with other, less fabulous horses. the elf, though, didn't care for horses. Stepping inside, the occupants seemed unaware of the chaos outside. A lady walked down the hallway. A man sat drinking on the bar. Two other men ate at a table. Quaint. "One beer" Ordered the elf.

The bartender glanced at his features, obviously aware of his elven appearance. The man wearing sitting next to him also stared with a angry expression. Nonetheless, the bartender poured the drink. Ra'Quden flipped him a coin and a token, proclaiming him loyal to the king. Immediately, the man's face relaxed. "It is good that there was still a loyal man in this city. Shan, the priest, has just taken control of the city and put it under marital law. My advice stranger, is get the hell out of here before the city completely closes down"