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Snippet #2260842

located in Triveila, a part of Assassin's Pledge: War of Attrition, one of the many universes on RPG.

Triveila

Nation of Water

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: The Royal Knights Of Cre' Est Character Portrait: Dietrich "Leer" Faust
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Dietrich Faust
"The Demon is dead. Why does it feel like this story isn't over yet?"




Dietrich spied the caravan on the horizon. The glow of campfires betrayed its location in the gathering dark of night. For three days he had followed what remained of the Emperor's own personal retinue through the country-side. For the first two days he had hung back, wary of approaching armed men who were undoubtedly edgy while protecting their wounded emperor. Now though, he had made up his mind. He knew what he was about to try to do was most likely folly, but it was his only chance.

By Uirlin, a horse would be nice right about now...

His goal now was to find more of the rotten curs that the Demon had referred to as assassins. The only problem was that he didn't have the slightest clue as to where they could be found. He needed information, and the only people he could think of that might have that information were currently being held as, more or less, prisoners of the emperor. The irony of the situation brought a ghost of a smile to Dietrich's face.

He pressed on down the road in a leisurely fashion, he didn't want to spook the soldiers before he could speak to them. Getting shot like a dog in the street would certainly not be an honorable doom. The air was cool, and brought to Dietrich's nose the smells of cook-fires and meat. He felt his stomach rumble. As he came closer he saw that the Imperials had made camp a little ways off of the main road in the trees. As he expected he was quickly spotted, and a squad of soldiers approached him. They carried halberds, but appeared to be more interested in getting back to their supper than getting into a fight.

Image

"This is an Imperial Army camp, what's your business here?" An older man with a mustache asked.

"No business, just a tired wanderer who would much rather sleep in the company of men than with the wolves." Dietrich said in a cordial manner. "I don't ask for food or drink, only a place by your fire for the night."

The older man eyed him for a moment, his experienced eyes scanning Dietrich's face for deceit. He didn't seem to find any, but still seemed unsure, or reluctant. Normally, Imperial detachments had a kind of "open door" policy within its own borders. If you didn't seem like the type that would murder soldiers in their sleep and steal their things, you could normally expect to be allowed safety within the camp for the night. However, escorting the emperor himself most likely altered that mentality.

The man scratched his unshaven face for a moment. Dietrich could not really blame him for his uncertainty. A brute with a sword the size of a tall man slung across his back deserved a bit more scrutiny than your average pilgrim.

"Aaahhh... Its not really my place to decide this." He turned and gestured to one of the other soldiers. "Kyras, go and seek out Sir Kreigg. He will know what to do."

Kreigg? I've heard that name before, a Veilbrandian name.

Dietrich wracked his brain, he knew that name... Somehow...