OOC:I wasn't sure what to post, but when listening to:
Requiem for Dream on violin, the post sort of wrote itself. I hope it works for you <3
I'm assuming a lot of time has passed since our two threads, maybe a year or so? Hope that works D: To clear up time line order, I updated the time line on the info page found
here.
-----------
The rain would not stop falling in cold grey sheets. The sun hadn't come out for days, and the winds were as dead as the town. Carts were left abandoned in the streets and candle light still burned in the windows from the midnight raid. Hot candle wax dripped onto the floor, the last flickering light of the gold flame in the shop window flapping until finally it too, stilled into smoke. It's wax slowly began to chill, like the corpses strewn about the floor, the shop keep; with his eyes wide open, staring clean into death, and his wife, face down on the floor, black blood staining the ground beneath her; and their three children, all dead, upon the ground.
And the building had the mark, painted in
red. Mages...
All of them were mages, a city almost full of them just North of the boarder at Serendipity, and rumors had spread like wild fire. No one knew who started it, but the God of War had come through, wielding a massive army of men. No survivors were to be taken. They said the killer o the former Grand Duke was amongst them, and they moved like rabid dogs. An entire city of mages... even if it were true, it did not matter. The trap had been set, the buildings painted long before their arrival. The hunger for vengeance... It spread like wild fire as the bell was clamored into the night.
"The mages are here! They are here!" he heralded, and even now, he and his bloodied copper bell lay still as death upon the ground, many stocks of arrows jutting out from his head, the words still echoing the horrors from the night, which still lay around him, as scattered corpses. The blood had long since been washed away in the cobblestone streets and the only living things that remained were the rats in the streets, and the black birds perched high upon the building tops, staring down to the rain soaked streets below, their eyes ever alert, ever watching, and she could see it all, through visions, channeled in song.
Stepping back from her room, this mysterious woman let the vision fade while a few hot tears slid down her cheeks.
"The city of Havanlaar has fallen."
~~~~~~~~~~~
She had seen it for herself. There were no words to describe it, but a cold fear swept silently across all of Connlaoth. So far, this had been the first real blood spilling, the annihilation of an entire town. And as far as her sources had told her, they were unarmed. It wasn't even that large of a city, of no consequence to the capital as it lay so far away. But there it was, in empty abandon; and she wanted to find out why. Rumors spread like wild fire, and the warning was clear:
Do not mess with us. For if the mages were to try something, they would fall, just like Havanlaar.
The laws were ludicrous, no one could challenge them as the new Grand Duke kept instilling his more iron grip upon the country. In North, the mages were kept in camps, like cattles set to slaughter. And it was freezing up north, especially with the approach of another winter. Had it truly been so long since the new Duke had taken the throne? Had it been so long since the people were suffering in silence? Something had to be done, and she wanted answers. Her brother and sister-in-law had been in Havanlaar when it happened, moving North to help the cause in response to her letters she has regret sending. She had tried to warn against it, but it was too late. They were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and had become part of the rotting bodies all thrown into carts to be burned. They weren't even allowed a grave.
So now as she walked down the forested street, she moved with purpose, gun at her hip, blade readied beneath her sleeve. Jinai had to stop the courier; he held the news, a secret that would destroy the one edge they might have on this war- a courtesan in the north who could see everything through the visions of animals, and she had become an integral spy for the Free Folk, warning them of what was to come and seeing paths fit for escape.
Through her sight, this courtesan had connected with Jinai's haw... and help avoid another slaughter. Another town could hve fallen, but unlike Havanlaar, she had heard their plans and halted this God of War from the slaughter. Though the town had been decimated, there was no one there to kill; just a small city, another near the boarder, called Rastarr. If this woman were to be found out she was a mage... with her close connections to the men at court...
How else would the Free Folk, those people suffering, ever know what's going on behind the closed walls in the Grand Duke's palace?
They heard the laws now well before they were passed, and increasing evidence supported there to be another potential attack; another city, possibly this one to the West, near the mountains. The question was, where and when? And were they able to stop it?
All of Connlaoth held it's breath, waiting to see what was to happen next. And she held her breath from where she was perched within a tree, eyes upon the helmed figure coming up the road. She drew out her arrow and bow, taking aim. A helmed figure.. probably working for the soldiers, the government. Her mouth tightened into a frown, her eyes growing cold as she drew the bow back, arrow steady in hand. She needed to make this count. And as she drew the bow back, she drew in a breath, keeping both eyes trained coldly on the figure; and as she studied him, a familiar metal brace came into view upon his leg and she paused, hesitating in her attack, just as another figure came down the road.
The horse down the road was moving fast. Shit..
the courier...Moving the bow and aligning the arrow to the rider, she pinned her vision upon him. Was that Tenran? What was he doing here? Was he here to stop him? Either way, this was her mark, and she wasn't about to let the bastard bring more ruin to the people by dragging out this war. War, for that's what it was, Connlaoth against it's own people, people the government had no right to fear, hundreds and thousands that were innocent. And for those, dying in poorly maintained camps up North, she let loose the arrow...
And it sunk right into the messenger's head.
If the helmed man wanted to get into her way, he would be next, as she dropped out of the tree, another arrow knocked and aimed directly at his chest.
"Hands where I can see them," she said, her face cloaked behind her hood, shadow over her eye and nose, as she stepped out onto the road. "Or I'll give you a reason to limp in your other leg." And she lowered the arrow, pointing it at his thigh.
