Annice returned to her bed and debated
for more than a moment to just go back to sleep, instead she sought her possessions
from the chest at it’s foot and kneeled on the floor, exhaling a breath. She lit
the incense and began to pray. She felt the connection with Syrene and was
pleased to find the warm sensation of her love again, perhaps the strife and
malice of the ogres contained within the confines of Lost Road is what caused
her prayer to feel cold the previous day. She pushed passed her thoughts and sought
power from her Goddess, hesitating a moment, and once again for the first time
asking for spells she never thought she would ever cast. There were many Gods
and Goddesses in the celestial realm and all of them had more than a few
Clerics swearing fealty, and few of them had qualms about the makings of war.
Clerics outside of Syrene’s service were renowned for their battle spells,
stories spread across the land of single Faithfuls proving a match to entire armies
when granted the favor of their chosen deity. Annice felt a pang of guilt
inside of her, carrying these destructive magics, she only hoped that she would
never have cause to use them.
Once done with her prayers she did
as instructed, wearing her armor on the inside of her robes and fastening the
sling for her club to her hip as opposed to her back. She stared at herself in
a full length mirror that hung on the wall and tilted her head, it did seem
more casual, she guessed? Turning from the mirror Annice glanced at her shield,
Wilhelm didn’t say whether to bring it, did that mean she shouldn’t? She rubbed
her wrist feeling a little unsure of herself, but shook her head… She was an
adult and didn’t need Wilhelm to walk her through everything. She was several
decades older than him for the gods sake! She decided to err on the side of
caution and stap the shield to the other side of her hip. She smiled
confidently for a moment before happening a glance at the mirror again, her
smile sank into a frown and glowered at herself. With her club at one side of
her hip and the shield on the other she realized that she was carrying her
equipment exactly as Wilhelm did. She groaned and rubbed her face, deciding to
walk away from the looming sense of embarrassment that was mounting inside of
her and just get some breakfast.
The Half-Elf made her way down the
stairs, rounding the corner she saw that the morning service was just as busy
as the night’s. She remembered now that Fozzie had explained that the Inn was
at capacity and all of the occupants were in the Supremacy. She swallowed hard,
feeling anxiety well inside of her and pushed on. Spotting Wilhelm she made a beeline
for the large man, seeking an anchor to latch on to in this den of monsters.
She was heartbroken when she neared the gladiator and noted he was seated with
Rikkard and two other men, some of the sullen eyed men he was sitting with the
previous night. Annice pegged the men instantly, now that she was able to give
them a proper once over. She had seen men and women of import enter the Healing
House in the past, always demanding they be seen first and quick to declare
their higher station in life, all of them had men like the ones with Rikkard.
These weren’t friends or associates, they weren’t fellows or followers, they
were just bodyguards. They were big, too, both of them at least as tall as Wilhelm,
and the one of them with a greater shoulder span than the gladiator. Annice nodded
to the group politely before seating herself besides her companion.
“Good morning, gentlemen. Sorry to
keep you waiting, I needed to complete my morning prayers.” She smiled, though
the act was difficult and she felt strain in her cheeks.
“No need to apologize.” Rakkard
said. “Your lot’s way I suppose. Elves being so long lived I’ve never known one
to consider the time of others.” Rakkard let out a small chuckle. “No offense!”
He added, continuing the laugh. Wilhelm joined the laugh, though Annice spotted
him digging his nails into his own palm as he clenched his fist. Annice just
smiled wider.
“Yes, I guess we do tend to take our
longevity for granted.” She managed as politely as possible, a feat to say the
least, as Annice felt ready to renounce her edict of peace and leap over the
table for the man’s throat.
“Cleric Annice,” Rikkard began “Has
Wilhelm shared with you anything we discussed last night?”
“No, not of your conversation. I
have only been told that we will be enjoying a hunt today.” She responded.
“Well,” Rikkard leaned forward, obviously
excited for the chance to try his pitch on an Elf “I gave him an offer, an opportunity
to join a cause worth fighting for, Gods know there aren’t enough of those going
around these days, huh?”
“Mmhm.” Annice could feel herself
start to shake but Wilhelm grasped her wrist under the table, it was enough to
calm her. She shared a casual glance at the man, desperate to look at him without
betraying anything, he glanced back and nodded to her.
“A cause truly just and righteous.
Should be right up the ally of a Faithful like yourself.” Rakkard continues. “I
represent a group of concerned men and women who feel that the existing realm needs…”
He paused for a moment as in searching for the correct word, Annice saw it for
the practiced speech it was. “To return to a more traditional model. We call our
self the Emissary, and we seek to petition the Kingdoms, Councils, and Empires
to adjust their lands so that the realm might return to the glory that once
was.” Rikkard smiled, though it was really more of a smirk, Annice was
distracted by just how white his teeth were, it was off putting. She did take
note of the name, must be what they called themselves to outsiders.
“And what is that ‘traditional
model’?” She asked, tilting her head.
“Well, one where the Primal Races
return to their own lands of course.” Rikkard leaned back, keeping his eyes on
Annice’s face. The Cleric kept her own gaze on him and felt as though she were
about to burst into flames. She silently thanked Syrene when a server approached
the table and began dolling out plates filled with scrambled eggs and cooked
ham and tankards of honey mead. Annice took the distraction to compose herself
and build up the resolve to jump back in, starting the conversation again
before Rikakrd could, to appear eager to learn more, to appear interested.
“Aren’t the lands they were born to
theirs?” She asked, stabbing at a bit of egg with her fork.
“Oh goodness no.” He said, leaning
in again. “See the Prime Five Races are all sorts of mixed up now. I mean, you
must know this, tell me you were born to the forests, correct?”
“The land of my mother is a forest,
yes.” Annice said between bites, nimbly avoiding sharing that she was born to
the Sapphire Cove.
“See? See?” Rikkard thrust his fork
forward to accentuate his point. “Elves are best when they’re in the forest,
that’s where they thrive.” He stabbed a piece of ham and shoved it into his
mouth, speaking over the food. “Not in human cities, they just don’t belong there,
and end up bringing down the humans with them.”
“So what of humans in Elven lands?”
She asked, and got a nudge from Wilhelm’s knee for her troubles.
“Ah! See that’s not ideal either.”
Rikkard said, seemingly unperturbed by the question. “I mean you have to agree Humans
tend to be a bit more adaptable than the other Five. We’ve been sharing out
lands with everyone else for so long it’s just natural we tend to thrive anywhere
we are, right?”
“As you say, I have to agree.” Annice
poked at her food, she was very rapidly losing her appetite.
“So,” Rikkard sat up straight,
slipping back into his pitch. “Me and my associates simply travel the lands to speak
our truth, gather more to our cause, and amass the power and influence so that
we may enact our renewed realm…” Rikkard extended his hand magnanimously at the
end of his speech. “Peacefully.” He added.
“It is an ambitious task.” Annice
stated.
“Which is why we need allies like
you and Wilhelm. People of fame,” He gestured to the Gladiator. “And a Cleric
of the Gods.”
“Well, I haven’t exactly signed on
the dotted line just yet, Rikki.” Wilhelm said, amassing an air of jest, grinning
widely.
“Oh no worries, you’ll get your chance
to Wilhelm.” Rikkard said, patting the larger man on the shoulder. “How about
you, Cleric Annice, are you interested?”
“Oh yes,” Annice stated, trying to
keep the coldness out of her voice. “I am very interested in seeing the dotted
line.”
The meal went on with the two
companions bearing the company of Rikkard and his bodyguards. The man was unpleasant,
that went without saying, but he was so sure of himself. He carried himself
with an unearned confidence and casually disparaged Dwarves, Elves, Halflings, and
Gnomes to say nothing of how he spoke of any race outside the Prime Five.
“Nothing but a bunch of twisted perversions
of the Five.” He stated, speaking most harshly of Orcs, which he saw as a failed
attempt to recreate the perfection of humans. “Gods damn the first one of them
that birthed a Half-Orc” Rikkard spit.
Wilhelm and Annice sat through
this, and were forced to smile, laugh, and agree as he said all of it. Annice
could not help but think of Kuran in that moment, how kind she was and how they
danced after the tournament together, laughing and reveling together. How they
shared words, drink, and smiles. This man saw her as nothing more than a
mistake and had he his way she would be put to death.
“And Half Elves.” Rikkard grimaced
as he continued, Annice’s eyes snapped to him, Kuran driven from her mind. The
man was into his fourth mead of the morning and Annice guessed it had loosened
his tongue. “I mean they’re not as bad as Half-Orcs but… yeugh...” The man
shivered in revulsion. “Why would you do that to a child, hm? Take away it’s
chance for two human parents?” Annice bit the inside of her cheek as he spoke
and tasted blood.
“Rikki.” Wilhelm interrupted, his
hand had been holding Annice’s for some time now as they used each other to
brace themselves against the sickening things being said, but now the large man
felt her stiffen and knew the limit had been reached. “Noon sun gonna be on us
sooner than later now, shouldn’t we mount up and get us some boar? Gonna be a
shame we lose out on good eatin like that.” Wilhelm brandished a smile, trying
to distract the man from his ravings, Rikkard shifted in his seat and looked to
a window, the mid day sun was nearly upon them.
“Right… Right!” He said, coming to
from his buzzed state. He turned to one of his men and smacked them hard on the
shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me the time!” He turned to Wilhelm “So sorry
bout that, yes we should be off.” He grinned mischievously. “I probably shouldn’t
tell you this, but the boar will be the center of a feast I plan to hold in
your honor!” He leaned back. “Okay not entirely in your honor, the feast was
originally going to conclude a gathering I’m holding in the area, but it can
also be a celebration of Wilhelm the Unyielding joining with his fellows in the
Emissary!” He let out a laugh, Wilhelm joined.
“Well then we best catch us a big
one, huh?” He clapped Rikkard on the back and stood up. “Me and Annice will
fetch our horses and meat you on the southern rode out of town in half an hour.”
He stood, releasing Annice’s hand as he did. Annice felt the blood rushing to
her digits and suddenly realized how tightly she had been clenching Wilhelm’s
hand. She cleared her throat and stood.
“It was… an illuminating morning, Mr. Weiswolf.
Thank you.” She said, gritting her teeth in a smile and following Wilhelm out
the door.
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