Father's Story

One of the stockhouses held more than fruit and meat that night. The wooden building held a few hushed whispers of rebellion and a new symbol that wasn't of common trade. A few people were perched on crates, some holding weapons, others were watching the doors with vicious intent. All of them held the want for something more, a spark of rebellion. If they caught, everything would end.

"That dog has to die before she does, Calor. Or maybe we should dirty him up, bring him down to us and treat him to the alley special." There was a quiet laughter, the kind of snicker saved for plotting. "They all have to die." A figure replied, hopping down off the highest of the stacked crates.

The figure was known as Father, draped in dirty robes and a hood that concealed his identity. The most charismatic, the one with the deepest belief in the rebellion. "Every single demented human being, we need to start at the bottom of the ladder and kill off the lowest, weakest rungs and move onto the strongest. We are sending a message. The denouncement of this -" He was interrupted by a low clamor of agreement, one of the members stood up and pointed at Father.

"Why should we listen to you? You hide your identity like a dog."
"Because I'm the only thing closest to leadership you have."

If only it wasn't true.

The excitement of the execution had passed, at least for Alber, and now the winding streets of Iracot led him deep into the maze of the city. A somber look had attached itself to Alber's face as he twisted the pipe from side to side trying to focus more on his vision, however the more he thought on them the less clear they became. He had though that Mathias, or rather Parem of house Zel, was the one that fought the God-Queen in the vision, but in his vision the man had simply watched the execution and nothing more. The only course of action that seemed reasonable at this moment was to head to where Sven had said, and meet this so called "Father".

It had taken Alber longer than he had thought to reach the Agricultural Ward, but not long to find the meeting at all. Behind one of the storehouses a clamor of yells and screams echoed through the streets, the only reason they hadn't been discovered is most likely due to most of the knights tracking down Parem. Alber rounded the corner of the storehouse and mixed in with the various farmers and laborers that had decided to align themselves with father. There wasn't all that many compared to the knights, but unorganized militias are rarely large in size. It was then Alber managed to lay eyes on Father. He concealed his identity, but spoke to the crowd as if he were just a normal citizen. Alber was respectful and quietly listened to the man's words, but once he was done, Alber spoke.

"You speak well friend," Alber spoke loudly as the crowd around him dispersed and he began to walk towards Father. "but tell me. Does a person that deems himself the name father truly intend to lead these people against the might of the God-Queen? A woman with limitless power and a legion of soldiers under her control, and you intend to anger this woman. Goddess or not, she is not lacking in power and a confrontation of any sort will only lead to more innocent blood being spilled. No, violence is not the path to take when facing a god."

The crowd roared with protests at Alber's words. Many of these commoners wanted blood and retribution for the Queen's actions and would hear of nothing but that. Only one man in the crowd spoke towards Alber rather than yelling protests.

"Then what is!?" He spoke, his voice shaking as he did. The crowd slowly began to simmer down as he spoke again. "If a fight isn't the answer, then what is! What must we do to end this!"

His voice was soft, yet full of passion. Tears streamed down the man's face as he yelled out, almost as if screaming to the very heavens. Alber looked at the man, then to the other saddened faces in the crowd, then to Father before speaking again.

"Appeasement." A sly smile crept across his face. "Give her what she thinks she wants. Say for instance a certain man stirring up people of the city in rebellion, but don't worry Father. She doesn't quite know who that person is does she."

Father listened to the strangers words. "We can't turn this into a dance." the man replied, moving though the warehouse to put an arm on the shoulders of the crying man. "We will do this brothers and sisters. The queen will be cast down, broken and scared. She is no goddess, but do not let these words leave this stockhouse. This is a war of attrition, not of knights and swords." Father removed his arm from the man, walking into the middle of the group.

"We will not sit and dwell on this. We all have skills, they rely on us for food, clothes and the whores that fuel their bereaved lives. A simple knife, a poison, a lie. We will tear them apart from the inside. They control all of Iracot, but we'll control everything the very streets beneath their palace." The crowd watched slowly, then started to nod.

Father looked to Alber. "We have lived though her tyranny for a long time. It's the time for well-disguised violence."

The seed was planted, now it was time to see what would grow.

Alber wouldn't argue with the man, and with the people calling out for a riot, there was no point in it either. Alber didn't believe now was the time to involve the common folk, if they were going to engage in direct combat maybe, but when performing tasks like the ones mentioned by Father the more people involved the more room for error there was. It seemed like everyone in the city was hungry for war, Parem had rushed the stage, and now Father was enraged the populous instead of calming them. At this rate war would be unavoidable, but simply removing the God-Queen wouldn't be enough to avoid it. As soon as the throne was empty the Magistrates would leap at the chance to seize it for their own ambitions. No, for peace to reign over this land someone strong enough to defend himself and the kingdom would have to be placed upon the throne, but as of now none seemed free of rage. Alber knew, only one with a kind heart and the ideal of peace would be able to maintain his rule, but who would this person be?

Alber had been lost in thought as he churned the pipe between his lips and listened to Father's words. For the moment this lead had run out and Alber's patience was wearing thin. Father had made some good points but he to failed to realize what was at stake.

"Very well Father, if you are so bent on vengeance then I will stay my hands, but remember this well. Vengeance is a doubled edged blade."

Alber turned and began to walk to the back of the crowd, hoping his words would sink in to the leader of this rebellion.

In the morning, activity in- and over Iracot was intense with holy purpose.

The Knights had not been idle during the night, prowling the streets for gatherings of dissent. A few homes had been broken into, their occupants taken for questioning by the Knight's Inquisition. Many would be found innocent- simply having been holding parties- but others would be less lucky.

By morning, the Knights had returned to their regular routines, watching key transit points, crossroads, and patrolling the districts, from the seediest to the most honored alike. Those of the ground would receive little notice, their actions more or less standard.

In the skies, however, were where the true might of Iracot was in force. The battle between the Dragoon beast and the two escapee's weaker creatures had been seen by many, and thoughts of dissent could not be brewed from it. The Knights, ordered grounded during the Sacrifice, were now out in force. The Skyborne, Wyvern mounted Knights of the highest caliber, patrolled the skies.

Unrelated, but seemingly another show of aerial power, was the arrival of Iracot's Airship fleet. A mock battle had been heard by all below, the resounding boom of cannons going off, before the two ships had docked and began to head towards the Spire at the center of the Guilds ward.

The Knights- and by extension Iracot- would not be caught unawares again.