Valonian Empire

There was an awful lot that could be said for the march of progress. It was something that many of the esoteric researchers were only too quick to point out when people began to get sentimental.

Since the reign of the empress had begun, the blanket of fear and superstition that had once covered Valon had been gradually lifted away, into a new and enlightened age of understanding.

They could understand how magic worked. They could enhance and control it, focus it and use it as power. The force that had once seen the species of Valon cowed and terrified had become a means for them to better their lives.

Through one of the high, vaulted glass windows it was possible to see out into the blue pre-dawn, where the eerie glimmer of the magelights that lined the streets of the capital swayed in the wind. Winter was beginning to draw in, though to the inhabitants of the city, such a thing held little fear. The enchanted gardens allowed food to be grown all year round.

A few inhabitants already awake and heading to their places of work trod along the cobbles, attempting to keep out of the path of the golems. The hulking, metallic figures in question plodded through the streets with brooms and cleaning cloths, the magelights glinting off their bronze shells and immobile masks. Children often shied away from the constructs, though few of the adult inhabitants of Valon batted an eyelid any longer to their presence. They had become a fixture, yet another great gift provided by the new governance.

It couldn't be blamed on them, it was natural enough to wish for comfort over hardship, and under the influence of those who dwelled up in the palace, the people never seemed to face any sort of difficulty..to the point that they neglected to ask very important questions.

The insides of the palace were probably not what most would imagine...well..below the ground floor at any rate. A great deal of effort had been taken into preserving the old features above, though the installation of esoteric power had proved a challenge, and meant that the old dungeons and storage rooms had had to be drastically remodelled.

The chamber could not have been more than one floor below the ground, if the small windows were anything to go by. It had been built to minimize sound, though it appeared they did not feel that they had much to hide regarding the power even if it were somewhat...distasteful to individuals.

A few magelights burned overhead in the large domed room, the copper-plated door left somewhat ajar.

At the front, a haphazardly dressed figure paced back and forth, wringing their hands.

The individual appeared to be a woman in her late twenties, rather unimpressive in stature, bearing the look of someone who had far too much on their mind. Her dark blonde hair was tied back rather messily, and seemed somewhere in need of a wash, reflecting the lights in a rather unappealing manner. She looked a little on the pale side, eyes deep-set and cheek bones rather high. It was possible there was some elf in the family, but it was clearly quite a way back.

She was dressed in a collection of ill-matching, and admittedly rather cheap
clothes, her outfit seeming to have been assembled by committee, and more than enough to demonstrate that she couldn't have been there as a guest of the empress or any of the council members that dwelt within the building.

No, Maeve was there as a matter of...what was it...obligation? Guilt? Some manner of foolish optimism that her presence might be of help? No...it wasn't exactly any of them.. it was more that it was the only thing she could do. The Order was gone. The schools of magic were scattered, and the mythical creatures were and hidden in fear of falling prey to the Esoterics. She was pretty certain there was not likely to be some great uprising. So this was, in some way, Maeve's only way of showing the people what she was, or what she had once been at any rate...regardless of how painful it was.

The sharp-featured woman turned and walked toward the centre, feeling her stomach twisting into knots at the sight of the shape, forlornly suspended from the centre of the dome by a considerable number of cables and ropes. It was an enormous shape, four legs and a pair of once imposing wings that lay in tatters, suspended out unfolded nearly to their full extent by hooks set into the ceiling. Numerous pipes, cables, and lengths of semi-transparent tubing rose in a complex web from its back and neck, set into fissures cut in between the creature's scales.


Set around the creature's ribs a metallic claw issued upwards, sinking into the scaleless tissue on its chest, emitting a low hum associated with large machinery as it ran, the central column seeming to glow a yellow-green shade.

This, this...travesty was the fate of the dragon Rah'von. His life force had powered the lights of the palace for approaching five years, and Maeve of the Mists, once a rider of considerable renown, found herself nothing but an inconsequential figure in it all.

Where were the others? Other dragon riders? She didn't know. Maybe they'd suffered the same fate. The bond had weakened over the years, but it still didn't allow her much further than the city gates. They could all be gone for what she knew, or the news of the terrible fate that might await those of great magical power might have scared them away.

The woman dropped to her knees beside the head of the once great creature and ran a hand over the dull scales. There was no reverence for them anymore.


......



A little way up the stairs, there was discussion regarding the events of the day...and certain concerns which accompanied them. It had been a decision that that day would be an event of some note, a day that permitted visiting of the imperial palace by the lower orders. Much of the lower floors, unoccupied by the Empress for the majority of the time, were effectively a public building, and the intent was to display how open and magnanimous the new order was. Events and stalls, performers and talks were being held there, partially to give the residents of the capital a good impression of the experience... and partly for a slightly less admirable reason.

Locking doors without good reasoning was a sure way to encourage unfavourable speculation, as was why there were no plans to obstruct access to the palace's power core, though golems would have to be placed to intervene at any attempt at tampering. The trouble was, that while, among the esoteric academic circles the usage of a dragon power core was considered a spectacular breakthrough and created such an elegant solution to the problem of powering the grid, and while lawfully they could not conceal nor deny that the work exists, it was feared that less educated individuals may see the sight as being somewhat...unappealing... and people were wont to let sentimentality ruin progress.

As such, with preparations beginning they had done their best to direct all points of interest away from the great chamber. They suspected that few would venture so far, and those that did would not linger long in the atmosphere there. Hopefully the irritating presence of the former rider would not work to spoil what could otherwise be a very pleasant day.

Surr emerged from the forest path that led north, his vizzok moving at its normal rate as it hauled him to the gates of the Capital. The vizzok that Surr rode was a fire red, a sign of an ambassador amongst his own people, and was well cared for. The beast was slightly larger than most of its kind, and held an arrow-like head out front with a long tail and thick legs, all signs of a breed meant to keep moving over long distances. On the side of the vizzok's saddle was Surr's 2 meter spear, and on the saddle was the shiny black zarc that was Surr. Surr himself wore only his blue leather shorts and shirt, the image of an open book shown proudly on the front of the shirt, and the hood down.

When Surr approached the gate into the city, he pulled a small pass out from a small bag on his vizzok's saddle, showing the piece of paper. One of the guards approached, reading the small piece of paper before saying "We will take the animal to the stables until you return for it, sir." In response, Surr dismounted the vizzok and took his spear. With a nod, Surr walked away from the guards, headed towards the most visible building, what Surr assumed to be the castle.

The pre-dawn skies were clear, the breeze biting through the travelling cloaks of the two figures approaching the gates of the capital. Such an early arrival on a cart as large of theirs was an easy sign to guards that they were merchants hoping to get lucky in such a large city. What drew the attention of the guards was the fact one figure dominated almost the entire space on the cart.

After the smaller figure had briefly conversed with the guards and they were both upon there way into the city he glanced across and spoke. " You have had the most grim look upon your face all morning.. and now you try and hide your face?.....does the capital do so little for you?" the smaller figure Deas, a friendly enough merchant, collector and seller of many odd trinkets . Razi, the large figure had been travelling with Deas for sometime but he had not been looking forward to this day at all. " I thought i was hired so you don't throw your delicate back out, not to look happy.." a large heave accompanied a sigh " This place is dangerous" he said ominously.

Deas had done well and managed to secure them a space just off the main thoroughfare, and with practised skill, the stall had been set up swiftly. Deas had taken up his proud place directly behind the stall while Razi stood a couple of paces behind doing his best to act as much as a deterrent to thieves as he could. " I was thinking if business is good we could close up early and see the palace" Deas said out of know where.

" I'd much rather head to a tavern... you know the establishment we have avoided for months now" Razi said curtly as he walked away from the stall. It was a small walk but as soon as he was on the main thoroughfare he glanced towards the palace " Besides we can see it from here" he said. He could not argue with his employer, but he deeply did not want to see the palace any closer. Turning sharply he accidentally bumped into a figure, and much to Razi surprise he had to look up to Apologize, though the Zarcs have always been tall " My apologizes"

Surr had been walking slowly walking about the streets, ignoring the odd glances sent his way. He was much too mesmerized by The Capital. Building after building, row after row, street after street, all as far as Surr could see. Something about this new landscape was just awe inspiring. So many of a species being able to survive in such close quarters. It truly showed just how powerful progress could be. Surr wondered what had to be sacrificed to make this city work. What kind of forces had to be tamed just to allow this to not kill nearly everyone in the first year?

A few minutes of walking and Surr suddenly shot forward. Stumbling a few steps before him, Surr stuck his right foot straight into the ground while stabbing the blunt end of his spear into the ground to brace himself. Before he had even realized that he had lost balance, Surr already had it back.

Surr turned around to see two men, one of which was massive by human standards and one that was rather small. He cocked his head as he looked over them. Before a single question could leave Surr, the tall man gave an apology. As Surr prepared to respond to the apology, a question fired off in his mind.

"You're not pureblood human, are you?" Surr asked with an inquisitive tone. His thoughts suddenly on why this man was so large.

"Your move, Wiez," said a voice from the other side of the table. Karl knew already, because he hadn't stared away from the Droken board even once. The one he was playing sounded annoyed. It was probably due to the fact that this was a prelude to their real game, and he was losing to Karl. It wasn't like he didn't know who he had challenged. Most people with any military background would have heard about his graduation from the Academy of Warfare and the fact that he was being scouted by many lords and even tribes.

"Right," Karl said softly as he moved his piece. "I guess I will go here then." This continued a few more moves until his opponent, Gregory Edrieck conceeded.

"I lost this one." he stated calmly with a small smile.

'Did he go easy on me to see how I played?' Karl thought to himself. The game was far from over but the fact that Gregory had conceeded at this point is that he had seen that his current loses could not recover. 'He has quite the eye for strategy and the foresight to see outcomes ahead of time. He would definitely be a difficult person to fight against in a real war.'

"You sure are as talented as the rumours say," Gregory exclaimed quite happy with the results and seeming relatively satisfied with the outcome. But I hear that you are displeased with this old fashioned game and are attempting to make a more relevant one."

"Indeed I am," responded Karl. "It represents the old capabilities of troops before magefire became so popular. And the capabilities of making a better game that also incorporates the capabilities of magefire troops shoiuld be added to the pieces of the games."

"You are talking about something similar to our holographic war room displays?"

"I am." Karl answered. "I think it would bring new depth to the game, as well as bring a realistic view of war to the people. Some people pretend that war is death when they are safe behind walls of their houses. It is also possible to find talented tacticians and strategists among the populace.

"You mean like yourself?" Gregory was aware of Karl's beginnings, most people that had the coffers as well as the influence to get questions answered could easily find out about it. It wasn't as if he was keeping it a secret.

"Maybe even more talented. You never know" Karl Wiez was seen as a genius and the thought of another genius popping up with the same background seemed so astronomically unlikely that Gregory starts to laugh softly.

"Heh heh. That would indeed be a scary opponent. You yourself are a rare talent. But I hear that you are not pleased with just being talented. You are looking to travel to the tribes and assist in quelling the small conflicts."

"You are remarkably informed, Lord Edrieck." It was true that after their War simulation he was going to depart and make his way. He just didn't like people know his whereabouts. It was good hadn't decided which way to go yet. He would decide as they were leaving. That would keep any possible people from planning anything too elaborate. Karl looked over to young yet seasoned looking woman.


He had met her while studying. He was not a few of politics and knew that one needed to get their hands dirty. He tested her capabilities by killing a few merchants that were causing problems for his adopted family. The results were splendid. He had more than enough money, due to the allowance that he was given as well as the gambling and information business he had started, to buy her services exclusively. She was hired not as an assassin but as a body guard. It was her job to look for those of her kind and deal with them accordingly should she feel it necessary. Currently Karl has been informed of no attempts on his life so far, but it is best to error on the side of caution.

Jihazi locked eyes with Karl and nodded. It was possible that there was someone within their small circle that is leaking money. That leak would have to be plugged up quickly so that worse things don't happen.

"Well shall we eat before we begin our serious duel?" Gregory said as he rubbed his stomach. Karl nodded and reminded himself that this man was not someone to underestimate.

"Sounds good to me." Karl replied with a warm smile. And with that Karl followed with Jihazi by his side continuously scanning the rooms and people.

One week prior...

Tryniszka Vosk stood over the freshly slain corpse of Raviir Talonsong, and sighed. She did not want to kill Raviir, in fact, she had originally sought him out for aid, but alas, he had forced her hand. In the waning days of the Imperial Order of the Dragon, Raviir Talonsong, and his dragon Merkata, whose carcass lay burning in a destroyed windmill some yards away, sat on the High Council. He was one of the few ranking members of the Order who ever agreed with Tryn regarding her views on militarization of the order, even if he wasn't as radical as she had been, and he was the sole voice on the council urging the Order to stay in the Capitol. She figured he was her best chance at finding a rider ally who would be willing to join her in her quest, and she expended a great deal of time and effort to find him.

Unfortunately, however, Raviir was a different man than she remembered. Far more mellow of temper. Upon hearing her proposal, he grew accusatory and hostile. He drew his blade first. At least, that is what Tryn would tell the historians. She casually wiped the blood from the tip of her blade and sheathed it, leaned down, and shut the lids of Raviir's lifeless eyes with her hand. Behind her, Ankh stomped about as carefully as she could manage. Although the two of them had just slaughtered their former brothers in arms, they deserved some measure of respect. Tryn stepped past the fallen rider and into his humble cabin to look around. He did not have much. His rider armor sat on a mannequin alongside the bow he used when riding his dragon, both masterworks in their own right. A multitude of books and tomes lay scattered about, though nothing of immediate interest to Tryn. She sensed no magical wards in the area, and nothing seemed out of place. Nothing, except the unfinished letter on Raviir's desk.

"Who could he have been communicating with. Another rider?" Tryn wondered out loud, her voice cracking the eerie silence. She stepped forward and read the letter:

D,
I am troubled to hear about your encounter with our friend T. From what you have written, it seems that, as always, she is playing the role of agitator and upstart. VEGA and the Empress have left us alone for two reasons. The first is that M's captured dragon provides enough Magefire to power all their contraptions for the foreseeable future. They simply have no need to procure others. Secondly, they do not bother us because we do not bother them. For now, T's behavior is simply posturing, the result of her innate need to tilt against windmills, but should she begin to take more direct action against VEGA, or worse, the Empire itself, then we would be bound to act, if not by duty to the order, then by duty to decency. I'm sure you agree that we do not


Tryn crumpled the incomplete letter, her lips twisted into a snarl in her anger. Outside, she heard Ankh let out an irritated growl as dragon felt the emotions of her partner as much as her own. Tryn could not believe that even now, the riders did not see the truth she spoke, that they would rather waste away in a dingy little cabin in the northern mountains than stand up for themselves and fix the mess that VEGA had created. She kicked a chair and it ended partly in the fireplace, quickly catching fire and spreading it to the rest of the cabin. As she stepped out of the soon-to-be-burning building, Tryn recalled the what the letter had said. M's captured dragon provides enough Magefire to power all their contraptions for the foreseeable future. She smirked, finally realizing how to bring her plan to fruition.

"Maeve of the Mists." She spoke out loud, despite the fact that Ankh already knew her thoughts. "We leave for the Capitol, Ankh. We have a lady to save."

---

Present Day

There was a chill in the air in the morning as Tryniszka Vosk casually made her way along the forest road that led towards the Capital of Valon. Having spent the past six months in the icy north, she didn't mind the cold breeze, and the moderate climate of the capital was a blessing, even on the cold days. She eschewed her rider's armor for a more unassuming leather coat and linen shirt and trousers, underneath a simple traveler's cloak, which served more to conceal her fine blade, Vetr, than keep her warm.

As Tryn ambled along the path, she gazed upwards at the trees, their branches swaying slightly in the breeze. Through the leaves she could see bits of sky peeking through, natural sunlight trickling down and illuminating the road in patches. Ankh, her dragon, remained at their camp, a few miles back and off the beaten path. This trip to town was purely to test the waters and poke around. There would come a time when she would ride Ankh in to the heart of the city and display her in all of her glory, but until then, Tryn would take no risks.

Approaching the city from the north, the trees began to get further and further apart, and soon enough she stood at the edge of the forest proper. In front of her stretched a valley of mostly farms and crossed with roads and streams. Boulders dotted the landscape, deposited by glaciers in ages long past. At the center of the valley, perhaps two miles off, Tryn beheld the Capital. Towering above the rest of the city, the palace stood as a mountain stood; firm, an imposing sovereign looked to by the city's inhabitants as a guide, a provider, a protector, and though they often forgot, a master.

Tryn took a moment to appreciate the sight. As much as she despised what it stood for, she couldn't deny it's stark beauty, and half a decade away had dulled her memories of the place. Her reverie finished, she set into the valley, her pace quicker now. As she neared the walls, she took note of the mark that Magefire technology had left on the city. The gates were steel and stone, obviously powered by Magefire, and powered lanterns dotted the battlements. Two guardsmen approached her as she came to the gate, probably the children of some noble or other. This close to the city, being a guard was a relatively comfortable job. Bandits weren't much of a problem, and no magical beast dared venture too close. Had Tryn desired to force her way in, she doubted that these two louts could do much to stop her.

"Halt!" Shouted one from a few paces away, his voice the exact mix of youth, zealousness, and entitlement she had expected. "What business have you in the city?"

"I'm here to visit an old friend, haven't seen her in years." She wore the most innocent face she could, and the guard nodded. She wondered if they ever actually turned anyone away. After all, no one who wished to cause trouble would announce it to the guards. With the heavy gates, the guards seemed a rather pointless fixture, probably more for decorum than practicality. The guard knocked on the gate, signalling to whoever controlled the gate mechanism to open it.

"Very well then, keep out of trouble."

Tryn smiled and nodded, and made her way into the city.

" Orc" Razi replied, it was not often the first question out of someone mouth was about lineage. Though there was certain traditions within the empire where a persons lineage was valued highly, the Zarcs however were not noted for such traditions. He had to learn the more obvious traditions encase the order called upon him in such cases.

" He has the manners of an Orc not just the size" came the quip from the small merchant, who seemed to shrink under the stare that was directed his way. It was not a gaze of malice, it was simply the unwavering nature of it that seemed to make many people waver instead

" What brings you from the swamps?" Razi questioned, it was one place within the empire he did question hiding in, but it was lands unfamiliar to him, and without Zarc permission he would not be allowed much access within the lands. Plus there was the diffcultly of trying to get a Storm dragon through such an area. Storm dragons were only slightly bulkier than the average dragons, but they had larger wings since they were migratory creatures and could cover great distances. In fact Razi had been using that fact to help hide Samir from prying eyes.

It was a thought that came into his mind many times, that through out the outskirts of the empire dragons were being kept from sight, hiding in some vain attempt to vanish from the world. It was not long ago that such beasts were held in the highest regards. Now he wondered if any of the other riders had ended up like him, hired hands or simple workers that no one would look twice at. The future however certainly was not clear.

"I have come to determine a way to produce magefire for the zarcs. When The Capital sent us a shipment, I might have used it up rather..." Surr said, taking a moment before continuing with "quickly. So, I was sent to ensure that a method that follows the ethics of the swamps... Mainly because when we got the magefire, we weren't told how they got it." After speaking, the shiny, black zarc looked at his fingerless, brass gauntlets, poking at an empty section, the membrane raising slightly from the top of his head.

Surr then stopped to take a short breath, a whole new wave of questions flowing into his mind. Soon after, a memory bounced into his mental vision. A memory of how to introduce one's self to those of other races. At the end of his breath, Surr began speaking again with "I am Surr Kirococ Of The Nomucs Tribe." Surr then stood straight, his tail gently going from his feet, around his leg, and to his hind quarters. Surr picked up his spear, planting the blunt end firmly on the street, letting the symbol of the Nomucs tribe on his chest show proudly.

Razi arched a brow slightly but simply listened to the zarcs speech, he was working for his tribe, which could not be faulted. He also learned the name of the Zarc. Surr seemed friendly enough and enthused in his speech, but seeing an piece of Esoteric Technology Razi couldn't help but feel a moment of disdain creeping into his mind.

" I am Razi, and as one who has chosen to distance himself from ETs i can only wish you get the answer you seek from the palace" despite the source of magefire, generally Razi did not agree with the power that comes with it being available to anyone. " I do hope its just the Nomucs keeps the magefire.... i pray for you in the Tyzinin ever get a hold of it" it was a grim thought but that was one of the major concerns he had about it. Normally a Mages training instilled them within dicipline, self restraint and an understanding of their own power. Now it could be obtained by those without the gift, and without the training.

Turning away from the Zarc, Razi went to stand back by the market stall, and his business partner " Rumour has it the ethics behind magefire are questionable, but that's talk from taverns and the bottoms of barrels" Deas had been listening to his hired hand for some time now and wondered why the topic of magefire had seemed to draw out such words from his associate, who not so long ago seemed destitute of speech, granted his speech was sullen and edged with distaste of the subject.

It was hard for Razi to hide the personal investment in such matters, being that he was linked to one of the most powerful creatures in the empire and in some perverted manner of fate or some cruel trick being played out upon the greatest stage, he felt vulnerability for that creature. Razi also felt that there was nothing he could do, this was that path the empire set itself upon, he could not stand against the might or the resources of Empire considering he was now just some merchants muscle.

Lady Silva stood at the edge of the marketplace, hood pulled up to conceal her pointed ears. The inhabitants of the capital hurried around her, too busy going about their business to notice the sharp-featured, hooded woman looking up towards the palace.

Silva had to admit it was an impressive structure. She may have despised everything it stood for, but she would be lying if she said there was not a certain beauty to the structure.

It was a shame she would have to burn it to the ground.

Turning her gaze away from the palace she began walking through the streets, going nowhere in particular. She had arrived two days earlier, so as to minimise any suspicion she might draw. When she had heard news of the Empresses plans to open the Palace to all, she could hardly believe her arrogance. The Empress had a wealth of everything and enemies were no exception.

Still, the Empress had been kind enough to allow her into her home and Lady Silva was happy to oblige. Stepping aside to avoid the path of a Golem, Silva ran through her plan mentally for the hundredth time. Firstly, she would kill the dragon, plunging the Palace into darkness and opening all those doors kept sealed with stolen magic. Then it was simply a matter of finding the Empress, killing her in the most fitting cruel manner possible and burning the entire place to the ground.

A plan as beautiful in it's simplicity as the Palace was in it's decadence.

Turning a corner, she looked around to realise she was approaching the city gate. She had walked further than she had realised. Stopping, she began to turn around to head back to the small alleyway in which she had been sleeping when the sight of three individuals no more than 10 meters away stopped her dead.

A black zarc - a strange enough sight in the capital - alongside a short and frail man who's expensive clothing marked him as a merchant and a giant of a man Silva was sure she recognised. He was pale, with red hair and broad shoulders. Silva had seen the man before. It had been years, but the Titan was a striking figure and Silva remembered her visit to the Imperial Order well.

Two questions formed in Silva's mind. The first - what was he doing here, away from the other riders in their mountain hide away? And the second - Where was his dragon?

Then a third question dawned on Silva.

Would he be useful to her or would she have to kill him?

The noise of the door caused the woman's sharp gaze to snap round in alarm, only to set upon the square face of Tyrin, one of the younger members of the guard. He had a plate of bread and cheese clasped in his gauntletted hands. The young man had taken to bringing Maeve food from the kitchen when he was on duty. Whilst he was aware they had no qualms about giving her things to eat and drink if she went and asked, she was still, officially, a guest of the empress, he also knew that it was a walk away in a different level the once-rider preferred to go hungry than to leave her friend's side for any extended amount of time. The room abandoned upstairs in place of a few threadbare blankets up against the wall. Whether it was out of respect for what she'd been or out f pity for what she was now, he'd taken it upon himself to relieve her of the decision of eating or staying with her dragon.

Evenso, he was a little wary of the woman, giving her a look a little resembling someone offering scraps to a feral dog that he wasn't certain would not bite him.

"Got some bread, apple, blackberry jam and a nice bit of goat's cheese." he explained, in a cheery tone, setting the plate down and regarding Maeve's general disinterest.

Unsettled by the silence, he started talking.
"You heard the open day's going on today? To commemorate the anniversary liberation of the north, the ground floors are being opened up. Been a real hassle. Got to have twice as many guards on in case people get sticky fingers, you know how it is. All kinds of unsavoury types round town right now..."

Maeve gaze snapped up to the man as he said the first thing in weeks that had actually interested her.
"People are coming here?"

Tyrin nodded.
"Aye, open to anybody."

Maeve almost seemed to smirk. The youth felt moderately unsettled. Both by the rather joyless nature of Maeve's smile, and the fact that it was possibly the first time he'd ever actually seen her do it.
"So, you planning to come talk to people today?" he asked timidly.

"In a sense." the rider responded darkly.
"In a sense."

Surr stood watching Razi walk away with his red eyes and a look of horror striking across his face, the membrane on the back of his head shooting up into the air. The mention of the Tyzinin brought vivid images to the mind of Surr. He could see a march of black scales, every single tribe deploying any warrior they could, marching them right in to exterminate the single most chaotic of all the zarc tribes. The ensuing fire of war as countless swamp trees turned from life to ash burned with rage, leaving only lifeless tracts and an unseen victor.

Shaking the raw shock off of his face, Surr took a moment to compose himself, letting his tail flow back out from his legs. The crowds had been leaving the black zarc a bubble of space since he got into the city, but it was only now that Surr was realizing this as he took in every detail he could, trying to calm every nerve that he had. It was then that the he understood that many of the humans were scared of him. Surr slowly began walking forward, toward the castle, thoughts running through his head. Why are they afraid? What about me is intimidating? Have they ever seen a spear before?

Razi only had to glance once at the Zarc and he could see that his hypothetical imagery had invoked the kind of reaction he would expect from practically everyone. Horror and utter shock at the thought of a blood thirsty horde powered by magefire. It was not so long ago that those who thrived such chaos could be deterred by the fact nothing could stand against the imperial order. For a time it will be like that with magefire in its currently early stages, but soon the once blood soaked fields will instead be turned into smoking craters and mere memory's of people who have been wiped from existence.

It was as he was glancing back towards his small business partner that he caught sight of someone down an the alley, at the glance he took, a woman but he could only guess from assumed proportions as she seemed to be trying to make herself difficult to identify. He did not let his gaze linger for long as he focused on his business partner.

" That is a grim thought... i knew your thoughts of ETs were dim but i could not guess you looked so negatively upon it" Deas said, with a look of worry on his face.

"You did not hire me for my sunny disposition now did you?" Razi quickly replied.

" No.. that is true, but seeing as it still earlier i am going to let go and get breakfast, maybe the food will turn your mood" Razi did not say a word, he simply took a pouch from the nearby cart and walked away from his work, only sparing one glance back, but it was not towards Deas, no it was to see if that hooded woman was still there, he had a gut feeling he could not place about her and he wondered if he would see her again. He would take a slow walk, towards a tavern he knew well from when he visited the capital in the past, it was on the slightly seedier side of town, but few questions were every asked, and the food was cheap and plentiful. He wasted no time in ordering some food and something to wash it down with, before finding a seat in the corner so he could watch the door, just in case the gut feeling was more than just a feeling.

Lady Silva watched the Titan walk away, leaving the tiny merchant fumbling about in his cart. Walking up beside the merchant, she placed her hand lightly on his shoulder and leant down to whisper into his ear.

"Go to sleep." Her voice oscillated as she channeled magic into her words. It was a simple incantation, and would not have worked on anyone with a strong will, but Silva's suspicions about the small man's constitution proved to be correct as he dutifully climbed into the cart and fell into a deep slumber.

Silva tossed a blanket over the man. She did not want to risk any interruptions from unwelcome parties.

What exactly could be interrupted, she was still unsure. She followed the red haired man at a cautious distance - she wanted to see where he would go and what he would do before deciding on a course of action. As the man entered the rougher part of the city, Silva watched from a narrow alleyway as he entered a tavern. It was an old building, layers of dirt covered the walls and roof and several windows were missing or smashed - hastily boarded up with old scraps of wood.

This was not the place she would have expected to find the Titan of Storms.

Walking to the door, she diminished some of the enchantment she used to disguise her true appearance. This was partly to make herself easier to recognise - she now appeared to be a rough approximation of her true self, her features slightly softened and her markings hidden - and partly because the enchantment was beginning to drain her.

Pushing the heavy wooden door open, she stepped inside and looked around. The clientele of the tavern were as she expected, consisting mainly of drunks, petty criminals and the poor who could not afford to drink elsewhere.

She became aware that she was being watched, and as she looked around the tavern she saw Razi, sat in the corner and looking directly at her. Walking over to his table, she pulled her hood back and took a seat opposite him.

"The Titan of Storms in this shithole? I bet there's a story there."

He had been right about his feeling, for Razi did not have to wait long to see the woman step through the door way. It dawned on him that she was familiar, now that he could see her properly and the time to study her features. A momentary look of surprise would sneak across his face when she spoke, he had not expected his title to be thrown out into open speech like that. The look quickly passed as a name finally came to him.

" Not much of a story i'm afraid... you probably know most of it my Lady" he said, only looking away from Silva once and that was when the bar maid brought his drink over.

" I will admit.. your company is truly a pleasure.. but i can't help but wonder what twisted fate has lead you to my table" he said taking a hearty swig of his drink, which he honestly questioned what it actually was. Calling it an ale would be complimenting it. " Maybe those who have fallen just gravitate towards each other... who knows" Though he did not know the details of her fall, he knew those linked the closest to magic or dragons had become estranged within the empire, and from the way she conducted herself Silva was feeling the affects as well it would seem. Razi had not had the chance to keep up to date with all the ripples the ETs have caused, but he knew all the major noble magic families has pretty much ceased in activity, meaning they were in the same boat as him.

" You will have to forgive me... normally i would offer you a drink... but from the taste of this thing it could fell an orc" He took another hearty swig from the mug, and stared at his company, trying to pick up on any reaction to try and help gauge her mood.

Surr continued down the road to the castle. It was only a few minutes of walking, but he had become accustom to the strange glances and large birth that he was given. It amazed him that in a city with so many people and so little space that they were able to find enough room to move that far away from the zarc.

Finally approaching the castle, Surr took a moment to look up at the giant structure. Massive and made of stone, likely to be resilient against siege. Great place to hide away if you have strong enemies, but it brought with it destruction to both the area that it had to be set up and to the area where the stone had to be taken from. The zarc would never build such a structure. The toxic and medicinal plants of The Swamps acted as both protection and trade, and they would never dare to threaten them.

Taking a few steps, and looking level with the ground, Surr approached the armored men standing before the door to the castle. Pulling out the pass that had gotten him through the gate, Surr gave it to one of the armored men.