The Coldest War

[visualspice]

Tags to @Kingfisher


He stood out in his gardens, the mist of the night clinging at the air in a tangible force. The storm last night had been awful, winds knocking trees over and causing chaos within the city surrounding his home. Although he was safely tucked away in his castle, those beneath him had not been so fortunate. Such was the life of a damn Duke.

Thankfully the rain washed away the blood, his body- still soaked to the bone from his night in town. Storm or not, a group of foul men had made their way to his duchy, having moved North from Vythe, feeding off the chaos by laughing how they burned up houses and  farms along the road while further south others took up flames of their own.

What was going on to the south? Who would take such advantage of the chaos of this God forsaken evil of a war? It boiled his blood, and as he stared out at the gardens of his keep, he decided sleep could wait. He was going south, to stop these brigands from tearing up the roads- but the countryside, and put the devils in their place.

War was war, but evil would see justice at the end of his blade.


His dark horse trampled with long strides as it ran the course, from his home in Castavar through the capital and further south still, to where rumors continued to pick up and he began to piece together where the seed of this evil chaos ly. Apparently it was a larger gathering than he thought,  for it didn't take long for him to spot the make shift campsite off to the side of the road- set up within the burning ruins of a field.

It had once been a farm, now barely any cattle remain, the houses burned to the ground which were not of stone- and only men with swords moved about- even so late into the night.

Leif Arrant hung back, leather attire darkly masking him from view as he moved down to walk lowly in the brush. He would hang back, examine what he could before he'd strike. The days of travel did nothing to fade the anger burning in the pit of his belly- and in fact it only grew when not even a day ago- he found the burned corpses of children in another small farm to the north.

So this is what war had become. And when he watched and calculated from the shadows- he thought he saw a figure- was it a woman? No, a devil, who appeared to be the one to lead these men. Well...
He'd have to speak with this woman...
ask her how she was sleeping at night...
While the blood of children stained her soul.

[Kingfisher]

Four months.  Alexis soldiers had managed to destroy or capture four months of back-breaking labor, keeping it out of the hands of the duke's men.  As much has she might have liked to have taken his forces in decisive battle, she knew that war had changed in Connlaoth.  Battles were now waged in the tens of thousands and without her benefactor's own forces, she would find herself outnumbered in a direct confrontation.

So, her soldiers would have to make do with their raids and skirmishes, starving their enemies out until their morale crumbled.  It was a well understood strategy familiar to most warfighters...

Still, war was war and chaos was chaos.  Amid the fire and disorder sown by her own mercenaries, one of her captains had managed to get his hands on a handful of bandits who had aspired to emulate the soldiers' strategy.  However, where the Ash Guard were disciplined and deliberate, marauders were crass and indiscriminate, sowing carnage where there should only have been fear.

She now looked down upon the band, a trio of battered and broken men.  Turning to the captain, the Colonel inquired, "None of these men are yours, I take it."

"No, ma'am."  The officer took a paper from his scribe and offered it his superior.  "All my squads are accounted for.  They might have been a part of the baggage train, but..."  He looked to one of his sergeants, a man better identified by the wealth of his cape rather than any badge, who simply shrugged.  "It's impossible to know, the way they come and go," the captain admitted.

"All the more reason you could have handled this yourself."  Despite the evenness of her voice, the captain flinched.  "Regardless of who they are, their actions jeopardize our mission.  If they are not traitors, then they are simply enemies."  Alexis picked three soldiers out of the crowd to step forward and gave the order: "Execute them."

Even as the grisly deed was carried out, Colonel had begun the short trek back to her tent.  She had not exaggerated when she called those men "enemies."  Guerrilla warfare walked a razor's edge between striking terror and inciting rage.  A desperate, angry mob loyal to Duke d'al Astarot and with nothing more to lose would only serve to slow them down.

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From what he could see, there was an execution.  Without risking getting any closer, he wouldn't know the who or the why, and he didn't have to watch the how.

Leif's eyes traced the figure back to her tent, moving quietly and silently forward. It was suicide to risk getting so close, and within the heart of any enemy, but Duke Leif Arrant played no sides in the war of this game,where as it was presumed he supported the mages, but in truth, he supported the innocents.

Flushing out this villain would be like any other night raid, and Leif paused to press into the shadows between reckage and tents as be nearest the woman's tent.

There were look outs for a place this size and he had to remain cautious, and watched those part ways from their leader's quarters and moved about to other duties within the night.

Now was as good a chance as any, and he was thankful this woman took on a tent rather than a stone building, for it made it far easier to step inside.

And he waited until her shadow was just so that he could slip beneath the tenths fabrics and form up like a shadow behind her, blade at her throat.

"Don't move," came his darkly growled words, laced well with the promise of death. He'd make good use of his blade if he had to.

[Kingfisher]

Alexis could not help but curse her sentries; they should have been awake enough to catch a man sneaking into camp.  Of course, she could also curse out this captain for setting up camp in the ruins of a town; too many places for spies and assassins to hide.  And maybe if she were less tired herself, she might have been better aware of her danger, so plenty of blame to go around.

The Colonel raised her hands to signal compliance, even as her eyes darted to find some way to turn the tables on her assailant.  The oblong space was fairly small but well-furnished with her bed, writing desk and storage chest.  Perhaps she could kick the post out of place, using the canvas ceiling to distracted the man.  "Easy," she said, softly.  "Let's not do anything too rash."  Alexis doubted she could turn him from his current course but if she could lull him into a false sense of security, he might leave her an opening.

Still, the bite of cold iron kept the soldier from trying anything just yet...

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The blade remained still, but his words pressed.
"Rash?" His words came out as a feral growl. "Tell that to the pile of children's corpses I found in your wake."

[Kingfisher]

What was this man talking about?  All conflicts produced casualties, especially among the self-proclaimed innocent.  The denizens of Vythe knew this better than anyone.  However, Alexis had made a point to focus her efforts on disrupting supply and provisions.  The people needed to be driven away from the duke and his cause, a feat made difficult if they thought the loyalist to be their protectors.  Her mind briefly wandered back to the three men from earlier and the soldier clicked her tongue.  No chance her assailant would believe her words.

"Why do you care?" the mercenary asked, bitterly.  "You think your master any different from the beasts you claim to hunt?"

From its raised position, her hand snapped to the dagger at her throat.  And, once she felt reasonably safe to do so, Alexis jammed her shoe against the trunk at the foot of her bed, heaving her entire weight into the assassin's chest in order to knock him to the ground...

[visualspice]

It was times like these he wished he were a cold blooded killer. It was her luck he was not, her retaliating caught him off guard and with a curse. But without much thinking did Leif react, for as the woman smashed Bodily into him, he found purchase with her and the pair fell noisily to the ground. Shit.

He couldn't have realized his damn mask would get snagged on her hair as he went down,  but they were in a tangled mess of limbs when the silhouette of a passing guard halted just beside their strewn forms.

Could this situation get any worse?

[Kingfisher]

It had all happened quickly, and Alexis hoped she had managed to wind the man during the fall.  To be sure of things, she tried to twist the knife fully from her assailant's grasp as the movement outside caught her attention.  "Assassin," she called; there would be no need for additional orders.

The bodyguard rushed into the tent, flap swinging open to illuminate the space within.  The larger soldier rushed to aid his commander in pinning the attacker down as she, in turn, struggled to disentangle herself from his grasp.  She made no move to draw here own blades; the man might be able to offer up some information during interrogation if they managed to take him alive.

[visualspice]

Leif struggled, his body a dark flash of movement as he got half pinned by the approaching guard. But the Duke wasn't about to be caught so easily.

It was a cruel move, if it worked, but he just couldn't risk getting caught, and the blade struck out in an arc, cutting towards the body guards eyes.

[Kingfisher]

In the chaos of the fall, Alexis found the opportunity to extract herself the assassin's grasp, catching only a shallow cut to the hand.  At first, she was bewildered by the ease of her escape, but she quickly realized the man's attention was now on the larger soldier attempting to lay hands on him.

In a flash, the dagger tore at the mercenary's face, drawing blood from his temple even as the warrior jerked back to avoid the strike.  Still, the knife was not weighted for slashing and the wound would eventually prove superficial, but that would not keep the blood from flowing into his eye.

Left alone, the Officer was able to rise, making to draw her sword.  However, with her dominant palm injured she struggled to grip it; instead, as she heard the rising alarm of her men, Alexis ran for the flap, grabbing her injured ally as she gave the order to "Get out."  With luck, they would find a mob of mercenaries already assembled outside.

[visualspice]

With Alexis and her men escaping through the front, that left him only one other option- to escape through the back. The feat wasn't easy, the tenths heavy clothe was hard to yank upwards to find a means to escape, it was even nailed on securely. He swore as he wriggled beneath the heavy fabric, tumbling out the other side and remaining low.

Green eyes darted wildly around as he heard the camp Awakening like a great beast from its nap. He had to think quickly, and entered into the nearest, smallest tent he could find. 

Of course it was occupied, a trio of soldiers staring up at him as they began to stir. He had to think fast, and hefted up a nearby cast iron pan for cooking and proceeded to whack the first man clean over the head. He fell unconscious while the others gasped in alarm. This must have been the cook's tent because he nearly tripped over a pot making his way towards the others. 

One man managed to grab a nearby knife and swiped it at Leif's legs, being subdued only by a second loud clank from the pan. Leif winced. The pan had to have hurt. But two down, one to go- and he saw the third rushing towards the open flap.  Leif dove at him, tackling the too young or a boy to the dirt as he growled into his ear, "Speak and I'll cut your throat."

Stunned, the boy obeyed, and the two stepped back away from the tent flap. With one hand on his blade, he untied the tent flap and let it close, and gestured for the man to go quiet as he crouched between the fallen men.. and listened. 

[Kingfisher]

@visualspice

The Colonel found a few squads of warriors, most carrying halberds or with their swords drawn in response to the chaos.  She called for her physician after sending her men to check her tent.  "Empty," one of the men called ducking back out through the flap.

Alexis was still holding a rag to her injured hand as the surgeon treated her guard's wound.  "Rouse the camp," she ordered.  "Find him - alive.  I want him questioned."  By this point, the half-dressed drummer had arrived and  the young man began to hammer out a rhythm that reverberated throughout the tent-city as more and more swordsmen began to join the hunt.

Swords- and spearmen began to move in squads, hoping to have the privilege of bringing down the assassin.

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The Duke could hear the whole place around him coming alive. He swore under his breath. This was not how he'd planned this.. then again..

What had he thought would happen? This was by far one of the most foolish things he could have done. He rode clean into the den of the lion.. no.. it was far worse.. a fen of a thousand lions and now..? How did he hope to get out of this?

Thinking quickly, Leif moved to grab a uniform from one of the fallen soldiers. He was quick to put it on, not yet removing his mask as the young soldier was still staring at him in wide eyed terror..

That was when Leif realized his mask.. wasn't fully covering his face and well..

There was something familiar about the young soldier he accosted with the knife.

"Leif?"

Not many called him by that name.  Except the few that knew him. Leif cursed and turned away, growling.

"Tell no one, Jeremy. This is bigger than just the title of men." And with a flourish he slipped out of the tent, dressed and moving like a soldier with a purpose.. his mask now shoved into his pocket as he hoped to disappear into the chaos.

Jeremy.. on the other hand.. wasn't sure how to react. The duke.. the Duke of Castavar was here. And he was the God's damned masked mordecai.

Scrambling from the tent, he went to the one person he felt.compelled to tell.

Tell no one.

Despite being family.. he wasn't severely close to Leif Arrant and well... he pledged to this cause. He hoped his cousin would understand.

"Can I request a private conversation with our commander?" Came his voice as he approached rhe tent.  The other men gave him hardened looks.

"It.. it's about the man attacking the camp."