Post #2579358 in The City of Chains, a roleplay on RPG

"Everyone's in position Lieutenant."

The night was chilly in Kirkwall's streets, the wind gusting just enough to produce a whistle. The full moon above illuminated the scene in front of Ashton. Guardsmen outfitted in their best full plate and weaponry stood at the ready, lined up along the side of a door leading into a nondescript warehouse. Stacked up against the other side of the door waited the Argent Lions company, their commander standing next to Ashton. He nodded at the guardsman and turned toward Lucien. "Lieutenant," he murmered, chuckling mostly to himself, "Anyway, here's the plan. We throw open the door, I throw this wonderful little beauty down," he said, pulling out an arrow from his quiver and showing it to Lucien. Where a broad head tip should have been was a small burlap sack tied on tightly instead.

"Then shields go in first, followed by the swords and what-have-you, and then the archers. When the archers get in, they scan the balconies and clean up whatever the soldiers miss, sound good? It should be routine, really," Ashton said, not only to Lucien, but to the men collected nearby. The warehouse that they were lined up against was allegedly a lair for one of the gangs that stalked Kirkwall. Many guardsmen reported increased bandit activity around the area, and further investigation revealed the warehouse as their most likely base of operations. It was their job to do everything they could to see these attacks stop.

While the guard could've, and would've raided it on their own, the Captain (at Ashton's behest) had decided to enlist the aid of the Argent Lions. The protection of Kirkwall would be easier to maintain if they recruited the help of the local mercenary outfit, after all. It also helped that its commander was a personal friend of Ashton's, who'd also like to see the city kept safe. The job they were currently on was a probationary contract, to test the Lions and see if they were suitable for further contracts from the guard. Ashton, for his part, needed no convincing, since he knew first hand what the man at his side was capable of. "Quick and clean if everything goes right."

“So it is.” Lucien nodded slightly, making a silent hand signal to the men and women in the front of his line. His own approach was slightly different, because he had his swifter, stealthier types running in behind the shield line, positioning themselves already as the lighter swords followed, but that was just a difference in his personnel balance and numbers rather than a fundamental tactical disagreement. Never one to lead from behind, he took his spot at the vanguard of his men, hefting Everburn into his hands before taking a spot in front of the door.

With a soft countdown, he felt the people behind him tense and prepare themselves, and then, with a couple of well-placed kicks, he broke the lock on the door and the halves slammed inwards. Ducking to allow for Ashton’s cover shot, he proceeded in after it, followed by the shield-bearers from both groups, weaving one guardsman followed by one Lion, and so on, filing in and then fanning out into a large wall that would allow the rest to enter with ample protection.

The arrow that whizzed over Lucien's head struck the far wall violently exploding into a bright white light, blinding those who hadn't shielded their eyes in time. Ashton had been explicit with his men and Lucien with what the arrow would do, and he hoped that they hadn't forgotten. Opening his own eyes, he noted that the only ones who seemed to be stumbling were the bandits beyond the door. Slipping with the archers near the rear, he was just in time to hear Lucien recite his demands of surrender. Ashton smiled to himself, some things never changed.

“Dockside Razors. You are under arrest on suspicion of smuggling, theft, and murder. Please lay down your arms and surrender peacefully.” They never did, but it was important that he always asked.

Ashton was pleased that Lucien did that part of his job for him, his voice didn't carry near as well. A few of them threw their weapons down and simply laid down to be arrested. The rest, of course decided to try their hand at fighting their way out. He saw an archer on the balcony fumble with his bow, and as soon as he nocked an arrow, Ashton resolved the problem for him, firing an arrow of his own into the bandit's chest. "We won't ask nicely again!" A few more decided against it, but still a majority tried to ready their weapons. "Have it your way," Ashton stated, nocking another arrow.

Diverting his quicker agents to get in, grab those who had voluntarily surrendered, and get out, Lucien and his four shieldbearers joined the additional five guardsmen of similar ability and started to push back against those that remained fighting. The light swords and spearmen of the Lions came next, the latter leveling their lances over the shoulders of their more heavily-protected comrades. The gang, being mostly comprised of lighter rogues and the very occasional warrior, weren’t really equipped to deal with such an assault, and almost immediately scattered, attempting to remain mobile and flank. Ashton’s archers took care of most of those who got too close, and the light swordsmen cleaned up the rest, flashing in and out among their comrades with precise, clean timing.

Everything was looking to be in order when the lightning struck from up above, crashing into the shield line with a great deal of force, breaking it and knocking several of the soldiers back. It didn’t look like any of them were dead, but a few were likely unconscious, and unmoving for the moment. Lucien followed the arc’s trajectory upwards. The warehouse, like many in the city, has an upper level with several storage rooms behind, and it was from the overlook that the mage had shot the lightning. Nothing in the intelligence they’d been given had indicated the need to prepare for magic, and the absence of that information meant, of course, that they had not. With Lucien’s light fighters mostly preoccupied getting the non-hostile Razors out of the area, their options were limited. The Guard’s light sword likely wouldn’t reach the mage before he loosed more magic, and the archers that had moved to fire were already being blocked by more magic.

“Commander!” The voice drew his attention, and he turned slightly, to note that Estella was now at his elbow, shortsword drawn and her other hand empty. “Let me.” Lucien was not fond of the idea—Estella was still very green compared to most of his recruits; this was her first proper operation. But she was likely the only person mobile enough to get there in time and also have some measure of protection from the magic. The choice was clear. He couldn’t let the rest of these people take unhindered fire from the mage.

“Go. We’ll get you there. Ash! Cover fire?” It would be much more likely to succeed if she didn’t face too much impediment on the way, after all.

"Ask and receive!" Ashton barked, nudging the elbows of the two archers on his either side. "Staggered fire, I want a constant stream," he told them, choosing to go first, loosing the first arrow into the group of bandits in between Lucien's man (or woman, in this case) and the staircase leading to the mage. It was supposed to be quick and clean, and this was becoming neither quick, nor clean. He was going to have a discussion with whoever the intelligence came from, as a mage is something that should've come up in the reports.

Estella’s heart was loud in her ears as she sprinted forward. She wasn’t sure how it was that Lucien and his friends did this sort of thing on a regular basis, because she was pretty sure something was going to rupture any second now. Fortunately, there wasn’t enough time to think, only to act, else she might well have wondered whether she was capable of this at all. But eight months of training with a Tranquil taskmaster left little room for any of that now—she was just trying to remember her lessons. Keep your eyes open. Don’t lose your awareness of your surroundings. A flash from the corner of her eye, and she hit the ground, rolling forward and away from the second blast of lightning, which scorched the ground where she had just been standing.

Adjusting her grip on her shortsword, Stel pulled in another breath and kept going, trying to dodge around the people who noticed her and tried to divert their course to attack her. Most of them fell to arrows, or to Lucien, who’d kept pace behind her as long as he could, and was now engaging several of her would-be assassins. Her lungs were burning by the time she came up to the staircase, perpendicular to her. Choosing the highest elevation she could, she jumped, using her free hand to brace her as her feet cleared the rail and landed with a soft thud on the other side.

Another spell, this time a stone fist, flew for her, catching her in the shoulder with enough force to knock her down the stairs she’d just skipped, and she rolled painfully, cracking her head on the first stair and coming to a stop in an upside-down sprawl.

I can’t.

You must.

Sucking in another breath, Estella coughed. Fortunately, the mage had been sufficiently enough distracted by something that he wasn’t following up on his attack. With some effort, and pushing back a wave of nausea from the head injury, Stel righted herself, getting her feet underneath her and hauling herself back into a stand. Gritting her teeth, she propelled herself back up the stairs, noting that the mage was charging another spell to hurl at a large cluster of people, including her commander. “I don’t think so,” she muttered, at least as well as she could with her jaw still mostly clamped together. Her first instinct was to throw herself at him, but Rilien’s cool tones interceded in her head, redirecting that instinct to something more subtle and much more effective.

Still, she had to be fast. Bounding forward, she brought the shortsword down with both hands on the hilt, biting deep into the mage’s wrist. He’d heard her coming and turned to meet her, but he had no time to change his spell to something that would block her, and he obviously had little idea how to handle himself at such close range. He lashed out with another stonefist, but she leaned to the side to avoid that one, and followed up by stepping in close, thrusting the sword for his throat.

She was unprepared for how exactly it would feel, when the flesh gave way under the blade, and she’d actually used too much force, which, with nowhere else to go, sent them both over the rail and to the floor below. As before, Estella landed hard, but she was quicker in scrambling to her feet this time, casting her eyes around for more foes.

Unnecessarily in the end, for the last of the others were just being dispatched by the rest of her allies. In the end, the raid had killed none of the guards or the Lions, and though several of each had been knocked out by the lightning, the worst injuries were actually hers. Nobody else had anything more dire than a few cuts and scrapes. Lucien smiled at her, placing a hand on her uninjured shoulder, and then nodded to indicate that she should go have Idris look after her.

The chevalier himself addressed Ashton. “Seems to me your intelligence network could use a little, well… work.”

"Intelligence is stretching it," Ashton said, scanning the balconies once more just in case. "You'd think they'd notice someone able to whip lightning and rock around with their mind." Satisfied that everything of immediate danger had been taken care of, Ashton went to see to his men. There had been no causalities, and only minor injuries, a fact that he was immensely relieved to hear.

Pleased that everyone was on their feet, he began to divvy up the chores. "Sergeant Vesper," Ashton called aloud, and a woman in guard plate and a shield approached him. "Sir?" She asked with a salute. One Ashton returned that looked oddly natural for him in his uniform. "Take some of the guard and Lions and escort the prisoners to the dungeons. While you're at it, pick two more to stand guard outside the door-- Make sure they're suitably intimidating. We're not open to the public," He said with a grin. The Sergeant nodded with a smile of her own, and immediately went about following her orders, picking one Lion and one guard for the door. The rest set about the clean up.

Turning back to Lucien, Ashton scratched his head and nodded, "Sorry about that. I had no idea there was a mage, else I would've prepared better. You can bet whoever is in charge of telling me things are going to hear me tell them some things." Ashton said, a rosy tint seeping into his cheeks. He waved it off easily enough and patted Lucien on the shoulder. "Still, the good guys are still alive and the bad guys aren't or in chains. I'd call it a win, wouldn't you? Your men did well, escpecially the girl... Is she the one Rilien is...?" He trailed off. The way she went for the mages throat eerily reminded him their tranquil friend.

Lucien glanced over to his left, where Estella had shed her light armor so that Idris could have a look at her shoulder. He’d seen the tumble down the stairs—that was one of those things that was painful for anyone, and potentially fatal as well, no matter how well-trained or strong one otherwise was. She seemed fine, though, but Idris would take care of her even if she weren’t. Presently, though, she was smiling slightly, as several of the other had gathered around her to offer their congratulations on her success, however lacking in grace it had been. Returning his eyes to Ashton, he nodded. “Along with the drills she runs with the rest of us and the practice late at night she thinks I don’t know about, yes. She seems well-suited to it.”

The topic returned to business, though, and Lucien frowned slightly. “Apostates do have to know how to hide well. But I see your point.” He paused for a moment, then smiled slightly. “Command suits you well, you know. Shall I be calling you Guard-Captain Riviera at some point in the future, perhaps?”

"I sincerely hope not, because then I'd have to start calling you Commander Drakon and that'll just make things weird. I think Ashton will do," He said with a chuckle. "Though Guard-Captain Riviera does sound nice. Come on," Ashton said, gesturing with his head that they take the stairs. "Let's see if we can find any clue to who's supplying them. You can buy a sword in the market, but swords are harder to get. We like to look out for bulk purchases," he said with a wink. Buying a volume of weaponry only meant a few things, and not many of them good.

They climbed the stairs to where the mage had been and Ashton led the way into the storage rooms. Inside there were crates, casks, and boxing holding who knows what, and against the far wall there was a desk with a candle above it. "I'll have a few of my men come up here inventory all of this in a minute," he said, cracking a top of one of the crates and curiously peered inside.

“It’s actually quite nice when there’s a mage in the group,” Lucien noted, stepping into the room behind Ashton and heading towards the desk set up in a corner. “If they were ever in a Circle, chances are good that they know how to read—and write.” Indeed, there seemed to be some parchment on the desk itself. From the wet ink and the quill laying out next to it, the mage had been in the middle of writing when they had so rudely interrupted. Lucien did not touch the implements, however, as the Lions were not on full contract with the Guard. It was better for the investigation if the only people who handled potential evidence were the ones who had official ties with the Viscount’s (currently mostly empty) office.

“Ashton.” He gestured the other man over, gesturing with his hand to indicate the documentation. In the short silence that accompanied the other man’s perusal of the desk, however, he spoke again. “I have been meaning to thank you, though. Sophia tells me you have been extremely helpful regarding her… family matters.” He wished he could be more helpful himself, but he was admittedly ill-suited for most of the tasks involved. It left him feeling a little frustrated, but he had learned long ago to appreciate that there were some things other people would just do better than he did, and to be glad when those people were his friends.

Ashton turned and made his way to the desk Lucien was at. "A pretty good bonus along with being able to throw fireballs and boulders, I'm sure," he said with a chuckle. Chances were, the mage wasn't brought on just because he could read and write. Or maybe he was the leader of the whole thing. If he was, then he really needed to get in touch with the person who investigates these things. "Don't worry about it," he said, waving him off, "I told her I'd help her with this. It's just lucky that I can do it in a more official sense now. She'd do the same if it were any of us." She was a good person like that, the least Ashton could do was help her with this.

He then began to carefully finger through the contents of the desk, careful not to upset or ruin anything that may be important later. It didn't take long, however, and he found something that caught his interest. He plucked up hand written note and read it aloud.

R,
The fee has risen. If you want more equipment, I expect more jingle in the next drop.
-G

"Should've paid for it," Ashton mumbled to himself, before sitting the note down. "It's a start. Maybe if we can find who wrote this note we can get some of the weapons off of the streets." Shaking his head, he shrugged. "But that's the guard's problem, not yours. Lucien, I think you and your men's work is done here. They performed flawlessly, as expected. You'll get a sterling recommendation from me and mine." Ashton's hand went to his forehead in a salute, but a smile broke any illusion that it felt anything but weird. Chuckling, he patted him on the shoulder again and nodded, "Tell your men next time I have a night off, I'll meet them for Wicked Grace."

“Don’t expect to win. Estella plays cards like Rilien does, now.”

Snippet #2579358

located in Kirkwall, a part of The City of Chains, one of the many universes on RPG.

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Characters Present

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