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Krey -> RE: Rebirth (1/8/2012 12:12:36)
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Chapter 2
The Journey Begins
“Lanzia,” the word passed barely above a whisper, and the woman had to stop a moment to bury the emotions which threatened to overwhelm her. As soon as they'd come, they were gone, and she took a moment more to absorb the city. Naturally, the first order of business was a tavern. It was evening by now, she'd been traveling all day and she needed a drink. More important, though, was the wealth of information to be found in the tavern of a major trade city, and above anything else, information was her goal. The alcohol just happened to be a bonus. That in mind, she started along the road into the city, eyes flashing between the buildings to either side as she passed them by.
“...Prince Othkar's outriders been making the Royal Family nervous,” she overheard in passing, and couldn't help but slow down a bit to listen.
“Aye, loud and obnoxious blokes they are; not just that, though, they've caused more than one incident in the city. The Royals are just afraid to provoke them after what happened to Metenros a couple years back.”
“Whose to say those outriders ain't just lookin' for holes in our walls though?”
The man of the pair just chuckled, “Naw, we'll know they're comin' before they do. Metenros just wasn't ready, what with that big bash an' all.”
At that she moved in closer, “Y'know, I hear tell Metenros' signal fires were never lit, the alarm never sounded. Know what I suspect?”
The pair turned their attention to her, eyes fixed as they waited for her to continue.
Her voice grew ominous, “I suspect treachery from within. Whose to say Lanzia won't fall the same way?”
Their faces grew solemn as they looked at each other, then back at her, and she just smiled.
“Could you tell me where these outriders are staying?”
It was the man who spoke up, his lady companion too taken with shock to reply, “Er, the Filthy Flagon, up the road and down Silver Alley. 'Tis a seedy place, though, I'd not go in there if I was you.”
She nodded, “Good thing you're not, then. Trust me on this.” With that she turned, continuing down the road and chuckling to herself. Good bit of fear in their hearts, now. Perhaps that was best.
She rounded the corner onto Silver Alley, and found that the Flagon was hard to mistake. It literally was the end of the road, and she could smell the alcohol from here. Perhaps she'd be passing on that drink after all, least til she could get to a place with a little more class and a little less... Well, filth. This was an information stop, and nothing would deter her from learning a thing or two from those outriders. In she went, a black-cloaked figure whose features were hidden entirely by the deep hood which shadowed them. Certainly nothing strange in a place such as this.
The name, Filthy Flagon, was certainly fitting. The tables were scattered haphazardly, each and every one stained with at least a dozen different drinks, and each one was occupied by mercenaries, soldiers, warriors from every walk of life and even a few that looked to her like proper citizens of Lanzia. Doubtless their wives didn't know they were here. Women, too, dressed just this side of proper, serving the tables and entertaining the patrons, whose hands didn't seem to care if they were bound with rings or not. Definitely not a place she would be drinking, but one which matched her current intentions wondrously.
She went to the bar, opting against taking one of the stools, each of which was stained with as many drinks as the tables. The tender, of course, was busy serving other patrons, so after a few moments she had to speak up, “Oi, tender!”
It was yet another moment before he pulled himself away, shifting over to her, “Aye aye, what'cha be wantin' then, lass?”
She frowned. Well, not overly surprising that her voice would give her away as a woman; it wasn't exactly deep, or gruff, or at all fitting of even the most boyish man. It was distinctly feminine. “I hear tell there's some outriders from Raym here.”
“Aye, that there is, but if ye be wantin' t' cause trouble, ye'd best do so someplace else.”
“I hear they've been causing enough trouble on their own. What's that about?”
“Eh, ever since the Empire took out Metenros, they's got big heads. They thinks they owns the place, an' what can I do to stop 'em?”
“Point 'em out to me, tender.”
He scratched his beard, then sighed, “Ah hell, wha's the worse 'at can happen? They'll make 'emselves known soon enough anyways.” He pointed to a table in the center of the room, “'Em boys there, got the table all to 'emselves.”
“All five of them?”
“Aye, if ye be wantin' trouble, ye'd best be ready fer it.”
She flipped him a coin, solid gold, and his eyes went wide. “This is...”
“Best keep it to yourself, tender. I appreciate your help.”
He watched her as she crossed the room to the center, sliding into the empty seat at the table.
“Oi there, this table's full.”
“Didn't look it to me,” she answered, kicking the chair back and resting her feet on the table. This revealed bare calves vanishing into tall black boots.
“A woman, no less? Shouldn't ye be servin' and amusin' us, lady? Ain't no place fer ye at our table.”
“Indulge me.” She pulled her legs back and dropped the chair hard to the floor again. “How about a game of dice? You win, I leave. I win, you answer a question.”
“Better idea. Winner takes ye upstairs.”
“Fine.”
“Oho, that's some risk yer takin' there lass. Pray fer yer sake ye got some luck on yer side. We play with my dice, I don't trust these other blokes not to cheat.”
“Aw Mel, tha's not very nice.”
“You 'specially, Rolan.” The others at the table snickered at that.
She just smiled, unseen beneath her hood.
“Right then,” Mel said, “Call yer numbers.”
Numbers were called, first seven by Rolan, then six and eight by two others, nine by Mel, and five by the last.
“Two,” the woman said finally, and all eyes fixed on her in shock.
“Lass, ye even know how this works?”
“Aye,” She replied, “Roll the dice.”
Mel shrugged, then rolled, and the dice landed on three. “Ooh, close, ye almost had it lass. Lucky fer ye, no winner that time.” He was about to roll again, but paused, looking to the woman, “Y'know lass, ye can still back out if ye wish.”
“Roll the dice, Mel.”
“Fine then.” Again he rolled, and this time the number came out to two. “Wha's this, then?”
Rolan's eyes snapped to the woman, “Oi, you knew it was gonna be two!”
“If I knew it was going to be two, why did it land on three first? I just got lucky, that's all.”
Rolan's eyes were suspicious, as were a few others, but Mel was quick to quiet them, “Oi, quiet ye louts, the lass won fair an' square.” His eyes shifted to her, “Well then, lass, what's yer question?”
“What is your Prince's ambition?”
He blinked. “Say what?”
“Prince Othkar. What does he want?”
“How should I know that? I'm jus' a scout, lass. Yer' askin' the wrong man; an' by the way, ye might be askin' the wrong question, if ye be wantin' t' live.”
She caught Rolan looking away, and switched her attention to him. “Oi, you, Rolan was it? You know something.”
“Nothin' at all. We's jes' scouts, like Mel 'ere said.”
“I think you know more than you let on, Rolan. You were busy two years ago, weren't you?”
Not just the outriders, now every face within earshot was focused on her. “What about two years ago?” Rolan asked, warningly.
“The day Metenros fell, you were there. Why did Othkar attack Metenros?”
Rolan stood up now, sword drawn, “Ye's askin' some dangerous questions there, lass. I suggest ye leave. Now.”
She stood up calmly, tossing her hood back to reveal moonlight-blonde hair, tied in a tight braid which vanished into her cloak, a few stray locks just brushing over deep blue eyes. “You will tell me what I want to know, Rolan,” she commanded, with a power few could rival.
“Leave, woman, before I put ye in yer place.”
Mel stood up now, slamming his fist against the table, “Both of ye, quit it and tell me what the 'ell is goin' on 'ere!”
The woman looked at Mel, head cocked to one side. “Two years ago, Raym betrayed a longstanding alliance with the Kingdom of Metenros. Rolan, here, was in on it.”
“Betrayal?” Mel questioned, “Metenros was in violation of the treaties.”
“Is that what they told you?”
She laughed, and approached Rolan, her eyes narrow, “Tell me what I want to know.” He stepped back, swiping his sword at her, but she sidestepped it and lunged, grabbing him by the collar of his tunic. “Why did Othkar attack Metenros?”
“W-why do you care about the fate of a dead kingdom?”
“I have a vested interest.”
“S-somethin' about the Key to the Throne, that's all I know. I overhead him talkin' to some stranger.”
Her eyes widened, “The Dragon's Throne?”
“Maybe? All I know is what I heard.”
She shoved him back and turned around, heading for the exit. Rolan was hot on her heels, but Mel stopped him, “Rolan! Ye want to die you jes' keep on movin', but this woman's more'n ye think she is.”
Turning, she smirked at Mel. “Wise words.”
“Tell me, who are ye, woman?”
“You may call me Ari. Pray we do not meet again, Mel. I am no friend of the Empire.”
She flipped her hood up, and stepped out into the chill evening air.
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