Verhalen: The Third Burning
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The moon shone bright in the clear, star filled skies over the city of Lebréus, it was a quiet evening and Xara O’Mareigh was enjoying her walk back from the tavern. She brushed off her fine woollen coat and sighed over the stain of ale on her cuffs. She wished she hadn’t pummelled the drunken fool that had pinched her bottom on her way out of the common room, but some of her adventuring reflexes remained, and she had seen no other option besides riding out the ensuing brawl. She sighed, it had been a waste of ale, pottery, furnishing and most importantly; time. Her long tassel of deep red hair felt like a heavy burden on her shoulders, she was hardly in her middle years by a Guardion’s reckoning, but many Sun considered her old. She wondered how many of her kin were counting down the days till she too, burned up and joined her sister, Yrthilla, in pushing up the daisies.
Thinking of Yrthilla always brought back fond memories of her adventuring days, trotting on behind her big sister and listening to the tales her husband spun while they traveled. She smiled sadly, the only ones left alive from those days were Erythul, a Nightkin mage she had always found frigid, Fahron, a stealthy bull Changeling with a knack for getting into trouble, and her. She knew that Erythul occupied a mansion somewhere to the south of Lebréus, but she didn’t know if she would ever see Fahron again. He had taken off after the passing of Almartin, her sister’s husband, and had never been seen since. Her sister had died years before that and her death had been the reason the adventurers had split their gains and had gone their own ways.
She herself had not been able to shed her wild nature and had thus decided to join a mercenary company. For nigh a decade she had been part of Lebréus’ most notorious mercenary company, the Palmers; known for its prices, as well as its services. She had climbed the ranks to become one of the lieutenants and had gained her fair share of respect. Even now, in retirement, she was still known as Xara the Tavern Queen among those old enough to have walked the many taverns of Lebréus when she reigned. Unfortunately her name had not preceded her this evening.
Coming up to one of the rain barrels that stood at nearly every street corner in Lebréus she paused to dip her handkerchief in the water held there and proceeded in rubbing at the ale stain; to her great annoyance it did not relent. Kicking the barrel she cursed softly, weeks of rain had filled it to the rim and the tough wood did not give way. Well, she had had worse injuries than a sore toe. Unconsciously she rubbed at her nose; it had been broken more times than she could count and was strangely crooked. Letting out another curse at the barrel, which of course gave no retort, she turned away from it and continued her stroll home. She knew the barrels were placed there to aid in putting out fires in Lebréus, but they were utterly overabundant these days. The Libram was altogether too worried about their books and scrolls to see that Lebréus was more stone than wood, a marvel considering the amount of books the Libram had managed to hoard, and that fire hazards had already been controlled to the point that they were virtually nonexistent.
She dismissed her annoyed thoughts with a shrug, the Libram was not deserving of such scorn, she had reigned Lebréus for decades and had always been fair and just. She herself had always donated money to the church's many charities and thanks to many like her, the Libram had been capable of building enough orphanages and supplying the city's poorer quarters with soup kitchens. Thanks to the Libram there were very few homeless and hungry and the city's streets were mostly free of vagabonds.
As she walked up to a corner where a spice merchant's shop was shuttered close for the night she looked back up at the moon and noticed a strange plume of smoke curling upward, blocking out most of the moon's visage. She looked out at the rooftops, but the houses here were three stories or more and she couldn't glimpse any sign of the malign glow of fire, but she was convinced that naught else could've caused the smoke. Strange. No doubt Lebréus' well trained fire control squad would be galloping towards the burning building and make sure the fire didn't spread. She was a little worried though, in all the years she had spent in Lebréus she hadn't seen a single fire. Open fire was not permitted in the streets and it was a rare event that the Libram allowed bonfires for celebration. The Council of Lords had tried to slacken the rules, to no avail. The Council of Lords had been erected a good time after the last great fire of Lebréus and thus, the Libram claimed, did not comprehend the hazard of open fires.
Anyways, it wasn't going to worry her, she was almost home and the fire appeared to be in the fifth ward, the poorest of the five wards. Xara herself resided, comfortably, in the third ward. She had bought a nice house there during her mercenary days and had made sure she would have enough money left to live out her retirement, however long or short it may end up to be; with the Sun, you just never knew. She would go down to the fifth ward in the morning, to see what had befallen and perhaps to help out the charities that would swarm down there in no time.
Rounding the corner, after sneezing on a good whiff of crushed pepper seeds that was blown upward from the cobblestones by an unexpected gust of wind, she increased her pace for the last three hundred or so yards to the next corner, which rounded on her street. She was looking forward to a good cup of tea and brandy and then to her comfortable bed and had almost decided upon which book to pick up for a last read when she heard a rushing noise a ways behind her. She turned quickly and wobbled only slightly as her stubbed toe bounced off an uneven cobblestone. A cloud of what appeared to be mist was swiftly rolling down the street behind her, too fast for it to be driven by the breeze. Several humanoid shapes materialized from the roiling mists, bearing torches and weaponry. She was too far off to make out exactly what they looked like and they were still partly concealed by the mists, but as they came on she saw their red and orange hues and she felt a chill run down her spine. The creatures that were rumored to be driving the Sun into extinction!
She drew her dirk while she ran, though she knew it wouldn't do her much good, she had spotted swords and maces on at least three of the creatures and each one of them bore a torch. She dared not look back and in between breaths she prayed to the Grand Protector to have her back until she reached her home. Rounding the corner whilst running flat out she nearly slid on the remains of an apple pie, sold by a plump old lady that called the corner her home, but she pushed on. If only she could reach her house she could at least make a good stand. Her sword and buckler were on the wall still, ready for use in case she'd ever truly need them again; she truly needed them right now, but there was nothing for it. Fifteen paces, she dared look behind her, they hadn't rounded the corner yet. Ten paces, she began fumbling with her belt pouch to produce the cast iron key. Five paces, she had spilt a couple of silvers, but she had the key in her hand. At three paces distance from her door she had to slow down, it wouldn't do her any good running into her solid door and when she skidded to a halt, half a pace from the door, she glanced back once more. The Grand Protector really had her back, for one of the creatures had slipped on the very same apple pie as she had and had fallen flat, dropping two of the others before they could slow down their charge. She fumbled with the lock, opening it swifter than she ever had. She darted into her hallway and slammed the door shut. Quick as a fox she dropped the first of three heavy oaken bars in place. This place had been her bastion many a time; a mercenary has few friends, but plenty of enemies to make up for the lack. As she dropped the second bar, she felt something ram the door hard and then tumble back to the street, by the noise of steel clattering on cobblestones. She dropped the third bar and didn't bother turning the lock, if the bars wouldn't hold, neither would the lock.
Looking into her small sitting room she was glad she had already closed the shutters when she had left earlier that evening. The beings appeared to be busy with the door and had apparently not bothered to try the far more vulnerable shutters yet, as they didn't clap or shudder. Shrugging at her own luck she dashed up the stairs and opened the door to the small hallway leading to the two bedrooms and her writing room. She closed the door behind her and dropped the latch on it, she truly had been a little paranoid as a mercenary. Then, a bit more slowly, she entered her own bedroom and approached a chest stuffed into the corner of the relatively luxurious room. The chest had been stuffed between the wardrobe and her washstand and was topped by several towels. She brushed them aside quickly and jerked the chest open. Inside was most of her mercenary memorabilia; her lieutenant's coat, the golden Palm insignia, in slight mockery of the symbol of the Shining One, and the firm knee-high boots that all women in the company wore, lay on top. She picked them up, ignoring the many memories that tried to flood her mind, and laid them aside. She needed only what was underneath. Her hands closed around creaking leather as she pulled out the suit that had fitted her so well underneath the lieutenant coat. It carried a couple of patches here and there, but otherwise it was in good state, albeit a bit musky from lying in a chest for years.
She hadn't lost familiarity with the suit of boiled leather yet, it was tailored precisely to her demands, and though she had put on some weight, the adjustable straps allowed her to get in quickly and comfortably. She picked up the last things in the chest, her three throwing knives and put them in their sheaths, sewn into her leather suit at the hip and then rushed for her sword and buckler. She picked up the sword first, feeling the familiar weight of it once more, and ran her hand down the hilt, brushing the red ruby in the middle of the crossbar. Even in the dark the gem shone with fierce intensity. She lifted it, scabbard and all, off the small steel pegs that had held it in place and quickly buckled it onto her leather suit. Picking up the buckler swiftly and far less ceremoniously, she suddenly realized that she no longer heard the bashing noises downstairs. She unsheathed her sword and felt momentarily excited, how she did enjoy wielding the beautiful weapon that had belonged to her sister. She let the feeling pass though and focussed, it was strangely silent, had the creatures given up?
A sudden crashing noise nearly made her jump and she heard glass break and clatter on the floor below. They had found the shutters; she hoped they would enter and attempt rushing up the stairs, they would be in a far worse position to fight her then, losing the advantage of both numbers and momentum. She didn't hear any of the familiar noises of weapons shattering windows to clear a way for bodies to move in, nor did she hear more tearing at the shutters. A whooshing noise made her flinch; they had not! She unlatched the door to her stairwell just in time to see a small pot of oil fly into the sitting room, smashing apart near where a torch was slowly turning one of her carpets into a sea of flames. She screamed a foul curse as there was a bright flare and most of the sitting room caught fire. She almost lost herself then, raging down the stairwell, out of the window, to hack up the beings outside. Just before her sight turned into a red haze, Xara caught herself though, exercising an extreme amount of willpower. She hadn't lived to this age because she was reckless or made rash decisions.
Crazy plans ran through her mind, many a one trying to conjure up the red haze again, but she remained level-headed. She had to get out of the house, soon. Though her house was a firm stone building, the wooden support beams would soon give way to the inferno that was now consuming most of her furniture. Hoping against hope that the beings had not discovered that her left neighbours were Sun too she ran to the end of the hallway and jumped to catch one of the support beams. Lifting herself through a square opening in the ceiling, she ascended to the loft. The loft was empty and it had never warranted a proper stair, she was never one to keep unnecessary clutter. Scrambling low, she made her way as fast as she could, startling a mouse here and there; so that is where they had hid, well, no use hiding anymore now, they were as doomed as she was if they didn’t escape the house soon.
Approaching the only window up there she sheathed her blade, it was going to take some force wrenching this bugger open. The hinges were beyond rusty, the window sill's paint was flaky and the window panels themselves were dusty and shrouded by cobwebs. She felt the window's contours for a locking system and flinched when she felt something hairy scuttle away from her reaching fingers. Curse those nature gods for ever giving life to spiders. At last she found a small slide bar at the top and gave it a good tug, pulling it completely loose from the window. Maybe this was going to be easier than she had thought; the wood was apparently rotten and warped. Bracing herself for a good push, she placed her palms against the window's edges, hoping that the wood wouldn't break before the window opened as she wouldn't enjoy a scramble on the rooftops of Lebréus with shards of glass sticking from her hands. She breathed in once and a waft of smoke entered her lungs; had the fire caught that fast? Exhaling, she began the shove, encouraged by a creaking noise coming from the window, she doubled up on her effort and almost tumbled through as, with a loud squeal, the window swung open on its hinges.
She was welcomed by a horrendous sight. Though the moon still shone bright in the sky, there was far more light emanating from the city itself. Many plumes of smoke wafted upwards and the glow of fires was hard to miss. Yet it appeared that the fire wasn't spreading much, the beings must have used the same tactic everywhere, scaring Sun into a building and then smoking them out, or burning them alive. She was both thankful and afraid, the beings that had stepped out of the mist had not tried burning the whole city but on the other hand, they had been targeting the Sun, if rumor was to be believed, which did not bode well at all.
She looked down, her neighbours' house was only two stories high and had a flat roof, she could easily make the jump. Trying to take a good position, she glanced back to her loft once last time, seeing a faint glow through the boards and smoke wafting up. There was nothing she could do to safe her house, but she could safe herself. She let herself drop, rolling on the roof below for good measure. She could hear shuffling and fighting down in the streets and thus peered of the rim of the roof. Her heart jumped when she saw three members of the Sun honour guard cutting hard into several mist creatures in the street. There were a few more than seven now, but the honour guards fought with cold and calculating skill, their pikes keeping the beings at bay. She had seen them fight before and was once more glad that she would never have to face the honour guard in combat, they lived for the Libram and would gladly die for it too. Such devotion made men dangerous, very dangerous, as the beings were experiencing.
Xara reached for her throwing knifes, she may not be able to join the honour guards in their stand, but she would have a small amount of vengeance, right there and then. Testing the balance of her knife for just a little bit, she raised it and crouched, aiming for one of the beings that was staying back. With a quick snap of her wrist she sent it flying. She hadn't lost her edge yet. The slender blade slid into the being's shoulder and it gasped, turning back to see where the unexpected sting had come from just in time to catch the second blade in the eye. It dissolved into mist and the blades clattered to the ground, their noise lost in the tumultuous battle that was till raging. Xara's jaw dropped, baffled, had she slain the creature or not? If she had, then why hadn't it just dropped to the floor like a decent corpse? She looked at the ongoing battle again and saw quite clearly that the Sun had the strange beings outmatched.
Turning away from the battle she surveyed her surroundings; if she jumped two more rooftops she’d be able to jump down on a small hovel into an alleyway. She knew the alleys of Lebréus well still and would be able to make her escape and possibly find a friend to stay at. She saluted the honour guards, a salute that was returned in kind immediately by all of them, to her great surprise, and set off into the night, smoke and sparks replacing the splendor of the moon and stars.
