The Rains Initial Draft (Generic Article)

Rain lashed the small tea house where Aurinka and Wolf played armies. Monsoon season had arrived two weeks ago, drenching the coastal city of Balleron and punishing the hundreds of laborers who earned their living outside, yet the city had plenty of tea and alehouses to offer respite. A cheery fire crackled in the room’s central brazier, and owing to their shared dwarven heritage Aurinka and the tea house proprietor took good care of one another. She tended the shrine where his ancestors received gifts and prayers, while he always gave her the best seats and took the time to brew her a pot of coffee despite specializing in tea. Aurinka’s undyed woolen tunic had already dried, and the steam from her coffee wafted pleasantly around her. Pondering the setup of pieces before her, after a moment she slid her tower into position near Wolf’s general. The tall elf across from her gave a predatory smile and moved his warmachine to take it, prompting Aurinka to move her own warmachine down to threaten a tower and a consul.
“You have a strong command of obfuscation and misdirection for a holy woman,” Wolf said with a chuckle. “Tell me, how does one of your talents pass the time between our games? Surely tending your shrine can’t bring you any excitement.”
“You flatter yourself.” After Wolf’s mock indignation and the hasty retreat of his consul, Aurinka pressed her attack. “Though in seriousness, the quiet is precisely the reason I feel grateful for my calling. Our ancestors deserve reverence, and speak infrequently. I reserve all my talking and interaction for the infrequent petitioners and a crabby elf who plays armies.”
“Crabby!?” Wolf split his face with a grin. “My dear, I am the epitome of convivial. I endure being hustled by this humble dwarven priestess day in and day out, and you have the temerity to accuse me of being ‘crabby’. Honestly.” Moving his piece in turn, Wolf leaned back and took a sip of his tea. He would know about obfuscation, Aurinka thought. Tea house rumors persisted that Wolf, like most of the elves in the city, lived here as an assassin in the Night-Blooming Garden. So many people assumed assassins maintained a grim affect with scars and cold stares and utter antipathy toward life. Further defying the assassin stereotype, Wolf wore silk clothing cut in the contemporary style, favoring pink and bright orange in a way that somehow didn’t clash. His sepia colored skin bore no marks or scars at all, and glowed such that Aurinka suspected he used the beauty products favored by human aristocrats in the city. A handful of gold piercings and shiny shaved pate completed the look of an elf who conjured images of minstrels, not hired killers, but Aurinka knew better than to trust appearances. She also knew from personal experience that stealthy killers were adept at blending into all walks of life, such as the clergy, and she had known her friend for decades. Nothing can stay hidden forever, and their mutual understanding formed the foundation of the only strong friendship either had. Wolf interrupted her reverie with a bold move toward one of her consuls, yanking her attention back to the game.
“Tell me Aurinka, does your order bleach their hair for religious reasons, or is that a personal affectation?” Wolf’s eyes twinkled as he asked, and as with most of their conversations, Aurinka knew he asked about a lot more than just hair color. Wolf never asked simple questions.
“We’re devoted to the sun, as you know. We use lemon juice and spend a lot of time outdoors, and most of us dwarves bronze beautifully in the light, I think you’ll agree.”
“You’re so vain for a nun, yet you hide the physique of a huntress in plain nun’s clothing. Tsk tsk.” Wolf moved another piece. “Getting back to your hair. It feels like rain has fallen upon this city for years. Centuries, even. How do you tolerate this weather?”
The Emperor is supposed to be human, but he’s lived for over three centuries. Why is Wolf bringing this up with me now?
“Rain comes and goes, stopping on its own eventually. While I’m sure we could scrape together enough mages to stop it, why bother?” Aurinka slid one of her pieces into position. The game neared its end.
“The city can only withstand so much. Any more of this deluge and half the people here might be washed away.” Wolf surprised Aurinka with a threat to her remaining consul.
“Do you mean to take that roguish smile into the skies and stab some rain clouds?” Wolf balked at how close Aurinka came to disrupting their double talk. She used the surprise to elude his trap, though she couldn’t get into a superior position.
“A stalemate! Aurinka darling, you’re easily the second best armies player in the city. High praise indeed for a non-elf.” Languidly rising from his seat, Wolf tossed a handful of silvers onto the table. “Please, let me pay for the tea and coffee. Consider it a donation to your order.”
Aurinka smiled over her mug of coffee. “Much obliged, Wolf. Will I be seeing you tomorrow?” “Wouldn’t miss it. Take care of yourself, Aurinka.”
***
Monsoon rains blocked the fading light of the setting sun, bringing night down upon Balleron early. Torrential downpour smothered the city; the sounds of chatter and haggling and rowdy children had all vanished, and would have been squelched by the relentless raindrops pounding every building here. The scents of the busy city, from forgotten waste to exotic spices and perfumes from the market and everything in between, couldn’t penetrate the rain either. The whole city slept as Aurinka doffed her simple nun clothing for garb spun from black sheep’s wool and specially woven silk over the torso. A form-fitting jacket topped loose trousers, and her dyed-blonde hair got swept up in a non-descript head scarf common among women in the city. She smeared soot over her sun-bronzed face, completing the uniform necessary for her task, and assembled the simple weapons cleverly hidden around the shrine. Taking up her paper umbrella- a modest defense against the storm- Aurinka stepped outside and made her way to the palace.
The Brass Emperor’s palace squatted atop the second largest hill in the city, and the long walk uphill could normally take an hour. Though rain dimmed the street lamps, Aurinka had no trouble making her way through the roads, and almost no one else ventured outside this evening. Within half an hour, the hulking figure of a Praetorian warmachine emerged in the gloom, dimly backlit by lamps in the palace courtyard. Though most people couldn’t see twenty feet in front of them on a night like tonight, warmachines used sophisticated magic to keep their pilots aware of their surroundings. Warmachines had also been invented by dwarves, back when the world was young, and the ancient race maintained a subtle mastery even over the designs built by humans. Aurinka grasped a talisman she wore under her shirt, and walked around the massive machine and into the courtyard. Passing within a few feet of it, she couldn’t help but clench slightly as she glanced at the formidable energy cannon on the warmachine’s left arm, but the pilot took no notice of her.
Praetorian guards still patrolled within the palace, their stoic reputation intact even in this weather. Aurinka knew Wolf’s pattern; unlike the other patrons of the tea house, his proclivities had been revealed to Aurinka decades ago. Elven assassins all had similar infiltration methods, and as Aurinka searched hurriedly in the dark, she found a praetorian lying unconscious in a dark corner, his gear removed. Scanning the rest of the courtyard or the walls was futile, though Aurinka doubted that Wolf would tarry outside any longer than he had to. Locating a servant entrance far from any lamps, she slipped inside the palatial house dominating the Imperial estate.
Entering the kitchen, Aurinka crept silently around to the back of a distracted slave, and jumping up she managed to position her palm in just the right place on his forehead while slamming her elbow into the back of his skull. He’d wake up in a couple of hours with a splitting headache, but none the worse for wear. Aurinka had always strived to minimize kills on her missions, and she harbored tremendous sympathy for the city’s slaves. That Wolf seemed to feel the same way on both counts is part of why the two had become such good friends, though Aurinka started worrying that she didn’t know her friend as well as she thought. Attempting to assassinate the Emperor carried a suicidal level of risk; though Wolf could easily slip past the praetors, the Emperor himself began his career as a formidable warrior, and became perhaps the mightiest human warrior in the history of Kytheria. He claimed half a dozen elven assassins among his kills, and Aurinka couldn’t suppress the anxiety she felt on Wolf’s behalf.
Tracking Wolf through the palace proved difficult. The elven assassin had disguised himself and moved more or less freely, while no dwarves worked in the palace, leaving Aurinka at four and a half feet tall with no serviceable disguise options. Instead she moved from shadow to shadow, dodging guards as she could, and making a good show of her progress despite the hurdles. Wolf didn’t head directly toward the Emperor’s quarters, veering off to either set up for a distant attack through a window, or perhaps because he knew the Emperor would be somewhere else. Aurinka focused on following him so much that she almost missed a guard who spotted her; to his credit he tried slipping away silently to raise the alarm, then shouted as she swiftly approached him. Republic soldiers all wore standard helmets with a large ‘T’ in the face and strong cheek guards, but these extended to a perfect length for Aurinka’s purposes as she deflected a spear thrust and delivered a powerful backhand to the soldier’s face. Deftly applied force drove the edge of the man’s helmet into a nerve curving around the lower jaw and sent him reeling to the floor. A sharp kick to the same place ensured that the soldier would remain unconscious for some time, though the alarm had been raised. Still, this worked somewhat to Aurinka’s advantage; an alert palace would dissuade Wolf from trying to complete his mission. Aurinka slipped back into the shadows and disappeared before the other guards arrived, but shouts spread through the palace and the barracks would be emptied in short order as the praetorians saw to their duty. Wolf’s trail lead Aurinka on and down a flight of steps into a cellar, which struck her as unusual. In a small room with stacks of boxed vegetables and aging cheeses, the sopping wet cloak that had left Wolf’s trail for Aurinka to follow had been doffed, along with the rest of the armor Wolf appropriated. He had abandoned his disguise and seemingly disappeared.
Closing her eyes, Aurinka reached out with her mind to feel the prana swirling invisibly around her. She’d been reluctant to reach out to the breath of the planet in the main palace, as everyone knew the Emperor had been a prolific magus before his ascension and the ancient order specialized in prana manipulation. Aurinka didn’t know if he could sense its use in close proximity but decided not to take the chance until now; now, she needed to find Wolf. Prana flowed with the air itself, and Aurinka felt the rush coming down toward the cellar, where it pooled slightly here, and then where it continued. Walking slowly toward the outward flow, Aurinka bumped into a stack of crates which turned out to be a hidden door.
The passage beyond had no light, but Aurinka was a dwarf and had grown accustomed to the pitch darkness under the earth long ago. Scuffing her feet as she walked, the echoes of her exaggerated footsteps constructed an image of the tunnel in her mind, allowing her to walk confidently down. The tunnel continued for fifty feet before opening into a series of catacombs. These must be closed off from the rest, thought Aurinka. There’s no way the Emperor would permit a security risk like this otherwise. She’d stopped focusing on ambient prana around her, but her echo ability alerted her when one of the corpses began to slowly climb out of its alcove.
Aurinka drew the pair of kamas she carried just as light erupted from a small gem in the figure’s hands. Despite the dusty, brittle armor, Aurinka recognized Wolf beneath it in a fraction of a second and diverted her kama strike from a vital area. Wolf likely recognized her too, as the dagger in his hand feinted without going for her vitals in earnest. Unsure why the other was in the palace but unwilling to give an opening, the pair eyed each other warily for a heartbeat and then surged together to clash weapons and limbs. Aurinka had devoted a human lifetime to combat with simple or no weaponry, but Wolf had spent equal time mastering every weapon under the sun, and wove a dizzying pattern with his lone dagger. Kicks were blocked, weapon thrusts parried, and after a brief exchange Wolf dropped his light gem to grab Aurinka and draw her into a grapple. The two fell to the ground, rolling in the catacomb dust until Aurinka straddled Wolf with her arms crossed and paired kamas at his throat. Wolf blocked her arms with his own, dagger perilously close to Aurinka’s throat, and his other arm wrapped around her to trap her in the position with him. A long pause filled with heavy breaths followed, until Wolf finally broke the silence.
“What the hell are you doing here, Aurinka?”
She relaxed her grip slowly, and Wolf did the same. Setting her kama back in her belt, Aurinka still straddled Wolf. “I thought you’d come to assassinate the Emperor, and I came to stop you. I have no idea why you came down here, though.” Wolf chuckled slightly. “I didn’t peg you for an Imperialist.”
“Quite the opposite. I felt concern for a dear friend, and wanted to prevent you from doing something suicidal. Surely you know of the elven assassins the Emperor has felled.”
A shadow passed over Wolf’s face, and Aurinka rolled off to let him up. The assassin stood up and brushed the dust and detritus off his subdued outfit. “I know better than anyone alive how well the Emperor fights.” he whispered. “Rest assured, I wouldn’t be so foolish as to try taking him on directly by sneaking into the palace alone one night.”
“So what the hell are you doing here, Wolf?” Aurinka also dusted herself off. The two friends stood staring at each other in the catacombs, alone among the dead.
“A prophetic dream. It’s an elven thing. I think I’m here to retrieve something.”
“Are you serious!? You risked your life coming here for some item you’re not even fully aware of, and you teased that information to me at the tea house like you were going to kill the Emperor? Damn you, Wolf!”
“Aurinka, it’s more involved than you’re making it out to be.” Flickering torchlight appeared at the top of the stairs whence the pair had come, and Aurinka felt an intensely unpleasant sensation, as though the prana around her had been consumed, or drawn toward some great void. Wolf grabbed her arm and started pulling her deeper into the catacombs. “I meant what I implied in the teahouse” he whispered. “The rain will end soon, but that’s out of my hands for now. And what I seek down here is part of that, but I couldn’t say how big a part. I just know that I need to find it, and right now I’m glad you’re here to help.”
The pair passed through several small, twisting rooms, heading deeper into the catacombs. There weren’t many branches in their path though, making Aurinka doubt they’d give their pursuers the slip. “Don’t thank me yet. I’m the reason the guard knows we’re here.”
“Don’t sweat it. The Emperor knew I’d come before I even entered the palace; he and I go way back.” Wolf paused in a somewhat large room, dominated by a sarcophagus standing in the center. “There’s no sense trying to hide from him. He’s coming for me, and this close he can smell me out. By happy coincidence, this will be a good place to make our stand.” Wolf crossed the room to the sarcophagus as Aurinka stared at him. Closing his eyes in concentration, Wolf called upon the magic all elves could tap into, and sheathed his fist with crackling energy before smashing the sarcophagus before him. No body waited within, but a spear fell to the floor, its dull grey blade unmarred by rust or corrosion. The smooth ash haft looked freshly polished, and even the sprig of mistletoe tied to the base of the spearhead maintained a lustrous green vibrancy. As Wolf reverently picked up the spear, Aurinka felt a rush of power from and around him, as though the world had held its breath until this moment.
“What is that spear?” she whispered. Wolf stared at the weapon transfixed for a moment before turning to face her.
“My dream... it lead me here, to this spear specifically. Surely you’ve heard stories of ancient weapons with long, bloody histories. Honestly I think the spear itself asked me to come, as if there are events in motion that call to it and it must have a hand to wield it.”
Aurinka started to ask an additional question, but heavy booted footfalls interrupted her. Torchlight flooded the hallway beyond the room where she and Wolf stood, and seconds later, half a dozen elite praetorians emerged, with a looming figure sheathed entirely in arcane-looking brass and orichalcum: the Emperor himself. Aurinka heard Wolf growl in the back of his throat, and the Emperor’s gaze lingered on the elf for a second before turning to Aurinko. An ornate brass face plate and helmet cast to resemble a young, beautiful god rested on his head, leaving only his eyes exposed and looking full of a wisdom no human should be able to possess, and a sadness no human should be able to endure. The rest of his armor looked like an ancient warmachine in miniature, with pieces here and there that had clearly been replaced recently, while older patches were worn smooth from polishing. Spines emerged from his shoulders and Aurinka could hear the humming from them, indicating a collection of prana, which she certainly felt. The long purple cloak at his back framed his massive body to intimidating effect, neatly eclipsing any incredulity an opponent might have at the Emperor’s paltry armament, which consisted of plain white staff etched with three runes. The praetorians moving in behind him had far more armament, and looked ready to employ it. Each bore a round shield and short spear with a falcata and dwarven pistol tucked into their belts, complete with steel armor from head to toe. They’d made no move yet, waiting for the Emperor to give the command or for their opponents to strike first. Staring once again at Wolf, the Emperor broke the silence.
“Good to see you, old friend. It’s been some time.” The deep voice rolled from the Emperor and around the large room, filling the space. “You look good.”
“Three centuries is plenty of time to heal, friend. Though not if one lives them as you have I suppose.” Wolf spoke evenly, but Aurinka could almost feel his tension, and noticed the iron grip he maintained on the spear. At a signal from the Emperor, the six praetorians spread out to surround Wolf and Aurinko. Four of them opted to discard their spears, drawing falcatas or pistols.
“I’m not sure why you waited this long to break in or what this spear can possibly do for you, Loki, but I’ll give you one chance to drop it to the ground and leave here alive. Old age has given me patience, but my foolishness is spent, and I’ll brook no deviation from my terms.”
Several things happened suddenly at once, with Aurinka saved only by the grace of long training and honed instincts. Wolf moved in a blur to strike at the Emperor, while two praetorians fired their pistols and the other four moved in to swing at Aurinka. Almost as soon as the spear struck, blinding light erupted from the impact, coupling with the reverberated pistol reports to utterly daze all nine figures in the room. Aurinka dimly felt prana rushing back into the room, as though the vacuum draining it had been disrupted, and focusing herself she managed to stand and blink the spots out of her eyes in seconds. One of the bullets had struck her silk armor but hadn’t penetrated, and the praetorians’ helmets somewhat protected them from the flash and bang but they were just coming around. The Emperor had fallen to his knees, panting heavily, but as Wolf moved to make a coup de grace, dark orange flames and oily black smoke spurted out from the Emperor’s hand, forcing Wolf to spin away as the dark fire licked at his clothes. Aurinka set herself to the task of taking down the bodyguards, grasping the spear haft of one and levering him into another, knocking both askew. We can’t face him. Wolf, please don’t try to finish this. We need to leave. Already the Emperor had begun drawing ambient prana into himself, now with a hunger that hadn’t been there before. Aurinka moved toward the exit, parrying a falcata with her kama and bringing a knee up underneath the armored skirt of her foe. The man doubled over in pain and offered no resistance to the knockout blow that followed, leaving only one man between Aurinka and freedom. Looking back briefly to check on Wolf, Aurinka could scarcely believe what she saw. Wolf danced through the room with such grace that he almost flowed, the spearhead licking out to cut and chip away at the three praetorians who tried to confront him. It took mere seconds for him to drop all three, and despite legends of elven grace, Aurinka didn’t believe it possible for any mortal to move as swiftly as he did. Disarming the praetorian before her of his pistol, Aurinka delivered a sharp kick to the knee with a satisfying crack and wheeled around to slam the butt of her newly acquired pistol into the temple of the last guard as he collapsed. She turned just in time to see Wolf charging the Emperor, and she reflexively squeezed her eyes shut.
Another dazzling flash erupted, washing over Aurinka with the warmth of prana. She whirled around to see the Emperor standing his ground, not staggered as before, and gripping the spear near the blade. Wolf had been caught off guard, and now strained mightily against the Emperor’s grip, trying to drive the spear home into the Emperor’s throat. In the fading torchlight Aurinka could make out what looked like black lightning crackling between the spear and the Emperor’s hands, as though he were draining it of its energies. Wolf had started perspiring, while the Emperor straightened his posture, now looming over the elven assassin. Almost without thinking, Aurinka rushed the Emperor, sliding on her knees to bring her kama right into the back of his leg. Roaring in pain, the Emperor swung around, but his concentration on the spear broke and Wolf yanked it from his grasp only to whirl the butt around and slam the Emperor in the face. Aurinka followed up by unloading her new pistol directly at the Emperor’s mask; though she sincerely doubted such a weapon would do any lasting harm, the small explosion temporarily blinded and dazed the Emperor, forcing him to stagger backward. Wolf hesitated for a second and seemed to weigh a final attempt on the Emperor’s life before thinking better of it and dashing to the hallway with Aurinka, as pillars of fire burst from the ground around the Emperor. Even blinded and down on one knee, the leader of the Republic could not be defeated, and his deep laughter chilled both of the figures who charged back through the catacombs to race up the stairs.
At the secret entrance the pair used, six more praetorians lay in wait, sending spears and bullets through the door as soon as they realized it was the intruders. Like Aurinka, Wolf had grabbed a dwarven pistol down below, and the elf stood shoulder to shoulder with the dwarf as their respective silk armors absorbed the bullets. A split second later the two parted to hurl the spears and their wielders down into the passage using their own momentum, and both emptied their firearms at the remaining guards. Aurinka’s sensibilities about the preservation of life were a luxury she could ill afford against so many armed and trained opponents, while Wolf didn’t have the same compunction. The spearmen sorted themselves out and tried to return up the stairs, but Wolf’s new weapon shot out and parried the oncoming attacks while neatly slicing the throats of the last praetorians. One made a valiant effort to press the attack despite his imminent death, but a sharp kick from Aurinka to the breadbasket sent him staggering back, what little breath he had now expelled. Wolf hurled the remaining guards into the passage along with a couple of crates to slow down the Emperor, who surely pursued them, before ducking into another room nearby with Aurinka. The palace buzzed with activity as the Praetorian Guard swarmed the halls, with the entirety of the palace barracks turned out and on alert.
“Well, Loki, here we are. How did you think you’d be able to do this by yourself? I’m not even sure if we’ll be able to get out working together. It only takes one praetorian getting lucky to end a career tonight.”
Wolf shook his head. “I haven’t been ‘Loki’ in a long time. As for getting out of here, I’ve got an idea, but it will *not* be discreet.” Waiting for the nearest guards to pass by, Wolf slunk out of the room, with Aurinka close behind. The two moved as quickly and silently as they could, darting from shadow to shadow, though the sheer number of guards made this difficult. Aurinka felt the prana around her shifting and rolling away, meaning the Emperor approached. Rolling out from her hiding place she buried the points of her two kama in praetorian necks, while Wolf took her cue and sent his spear through the neck of a third. The rest of the squad, five guards, stared at the two dumbfounded while Wolf and Aurinka each dropped another guard. Finally the three remaining praetorians regained their wits and began yelling out as they bore down on Wolf and Aurinka with their swords. Aurinka peeled one shield away with her kama and slashed her opponent’s sword arm, barely dodging the attack from another praetorian. Wolf feinted with his spear and tossed a handful of fine sand directly into his opponent’s eyes, sending her staggering. Reversing his spear he swept the legs out from the last guard as Aurinka nimbly evaded a shield bash to plant her foot and throw her bleeding foe to the ground. The Emperor’s vacuous presence drew closer, and that coupled with the rattling armor of approaching guards sent Wolf and Aurinka running to the exit without finishing off their opponents.
Outside, the continuous rain had intensified, making the guards’ work harder. Wolf and Aurinka ducked into a small alley between two outbuildings and surveyed the grounds, both noting that four warmachines now prowled the area, actively searching for intruders. All four were of the same type, a ponderous machine resembling a mobile fortress more than an agile fighter on a grand scale. The torsos looked like fancy conical helms on a pair of legs, with arms weighed down by lightning emitters. Aurinka hadn’t looked too closely on her way in, but now as she waited for Wolf to unveil his plan, she took the time to appreciate these human manufactured devices. For a short lived race they turned out some truly impressive feats of magical engineering and sophistication.
“They’re not as pretty as elven machines” Wolf yelled, as if reading her thoughts. The rain drowned out so much sound the two could have shouted at each other all night without drawing attention. “You can become invisible to their sensors, right?”
Aurinka grasped the talisman under her thoroughly soaked shirt. “I can indeed. How’d you know?”
Wolf grinned. “It’s my business to know things like that. Here.” Pressing a small disc into her hand, Wolf readied his spear. “I need you to run over to one of those machines and climb up top. Once there, I’ll join you.”
Aurinka stared at him. “You want me to attack the largest warmachine humans make by myself, on foot? Look, I know this isn’t the time, but you owe me explanations for all the shit that’s happened tonight.”
Wolf nodded. “Of course. And know that I really appreciate you being here, Aurinka, whatever happens. Now go get ‘em.”
Wrapping her talisman around her hand and gripping her kama, Aurinka waited until one of the massive machines got within fifty feet and dashed out from cover, running full tilt. Trusting its sensors, the warmachine had no light source and the patrols of guards carried only dim lamps, making her run surprisingly anticlimactic. Reaching the warmachine Aurinka leapt toward the knee and buried her kama into the joint, pulling herself up and repositioning before the next step trapped her weapons. The edges were dull but the metal and points reinforced specifically for climbing, and even in the pouring rain Aurinka mounted the thirty foot tall machine in seconds. Sinking a kama into a seam in the metal, Aurinka grasped the disc Wolf had given her and he appeared beside her in a small flash of light. Though she was somewhat surprised, Aurinka maintained her grip and extended a hand to Wolf, who grasped her forearm and with all the strength and leverage he could muster drove his new spear straight down through the metal into the cockpit. The spearhead parted the steel carapace of the machine as though it were butter, and the metal titan lurched and stumbled, indicating that the spear had found its mark. In the blink of an eye Wolf had pulled out his spear and slid down to grab the hatch release and open up the machine. The pilot’s body hung limply in its harness, unarmored with the runed sword the machine recognized as a key still in its slot. By the time Aurinka had slid down, Wolf had cut the body free and tossed it out of the machine before sitting in the slightly bloody cockpit.
“Nice ride you’ve got yourself. How the hell am I supposed to get out of here?” Aurinka yelled. Wolf gestured to the machine’s right shoulder.
“Just hang on, my friend. I’ve piloted several of these in my life; we’ll be out of here before you know it.” Closing the cockpit before Aurinka could vent any of her mounting frustration, Wolf turned the machine and started lumbering toward the palace wall. Aurinka had just settled into position when Wolf smashed through the brick and mortar barricade, taking off down the hill via the main thoroughfare. He’s pretty damned good, Aurinka thought to herself. Piloting one of these as it runs downhill in the rain is no mean feat. Despite knowing that Wolf was the better choice for piloting, as the rain pelted Aurinka all the harder for the speed at which she moved, she still felt growing anger about the entire situation.
Wolf guided the warmachine down the main thoroughfare unmolested until the two approached the river at the bottom. Two smaller warmachines had been alerted to the intruders scheme and converged to meet them before they could escape in the water, and the two were smaller scout builds, which made outrunning them impossible. Aurinka hooked her kama around a sturdy protrusion in the back and lowered herself down to hang against the machine’s back, and just in time, as projectiles slammed into the machine Wolf piloted. The main road ran right down to the river docks, but this area of the city at the base of the hills held tightly packed shanties and warrens as the expanding populace built shelter wherever they could. The smaller scout warmachines approached from within this maze, a luxury the larger warmachine could not afford, and started battering Wolf from two sides. Wolf fired back, leveling both lightning emitters on his machine at the scout on the left and sending it reeling back into a building. Static electricity crackled around the machine despite the rain, and Aurinka felt it tingling throughout her body. As another volley of projectiles slammed into Wolf and he prepared another salvo, Aurinka tucked her legs and pushed off from the warmachine, flipping back to land on a tiled roof near Wolf’s machine. Scrambling to find her footing on the slick tile, Aurinka only managed to slow her fall, gouging the roof with her kama and barely managing a graceful landing after falling fifteen feet. Her shoulder ached from exertion, and the constant activity of the evening started taking its toll. Above her, Wolf withstood still more of the metal slugs the scout warmachines hurled, staggering back slightly as he answered with more and more lightning. Aurinka rolled backward to avoid being stepped on and ducked into one of the numerous alleys. After getting her bearings, she started working her way through the maze of the slums, leaving Wolf to his own devices.
Aurinka’s path lay along the river, running by one of the scouts. As she moved swiftly through the downpour a massive crash sent her staggering to her knees, and the shriek of rending metal cut through the deafening patter of raindrops. Concerned for a second that Wolf had been bested, Aurinka felt relief when bolts of lightning flashed across her vision, and she thought she heard the boom boom boom of the scout’s projectile weapon fading into the distance. The sound of a massive splash reached her ears, and feeling that Wolf had succeeded in his escape, she turned her attention to melting into the shadows and swiftly making her way back to the temple she called home, any real fear of being followed having dissolved in the rainy night’s embrace.
Muted sunlight filtered into Aurinka’s window, gently pulling her from sleep. She sat up and vaguely wondered if the previous night had been a vivid dream, but the aches over most of her body quickly disabused her of that notion. A set of black garb sat in the corner of her room, still damp despite lying near the embers of Aurinka’s small fire. Exhausted and hungry, Aurinka gingerly got up and performed her morning rituals. Making a note to stretch a bit more often, she entertained petitioners to the shrine for the morning before making her way to the tea house she patronized every day at this point.
The proprietor gave her an unusually dour look, and when Aurinka sat at her usual table and started setting up armies, he solemnly handed her a sealed letter with dwarven letters drawn using exquisite calligraphy. It said only ‘my dream’. Aurinka broke the wax seal and unfolded the paper, reading it carefully as a smile slowly inched across her face. “Bjorn, when did Wolf leave you this letter?” she asked.
“He gave it to me yesterday afternoon. What’s up with him? Did I just lose a customer?”
Aurinka shook her head. “He’ll be gone for a while, but this isn’t the end of anything. It’s a beginning.”
***
“Princeps.” The man known as the Brass Emperor stirred, his reverie broken by the timid page calling out his formal title. He hadn’t slept since the intrusion the night prior, and as the sun rose to battle its way through the omnipresent cloud cover, the damage to the city down in the river district could be seen even from the palace.
“Yes? What is it?” Slowly turning his massive frame, the Emperor regarded the young woman standing at the door. Senators typically assigned second or third sons and daughters to the Praetorian Guard or some other prestigious posting, and ‘page’ served as the first rank for new applicants. The Emperor wondered how someone so nervous now would be able to assume the mantle of warrior, but reminded himself that most pages were, in his presence. He’d had that effect on others for a long time. “The Senate has convened and humbly requests your presence, Princeps. Senator Timean in particular expressed concern for your well being after the attack last night.”
That sniveling worm, the Emperor thought. Useful all the same, but still. “Please tell them I’ll join them shortly.”
“Yes, Princeps.” Rendering a crisp Republic salute, she spun on her heel and hurried down the hallway. The Emperor noticed she wasted no time, and had arrived still damp enough from the rain that she must not have tried to make herself more presentable first. The Emperor valued such commitment to one’s duty over vanity, and mused that she might indeed be an excellent addition to the praetorians, once she had a few more years under her belt.
He hated skipping portions of his morning routine, but extenuating circumstances justified it. A swift polishing job on his armor and a calibration of the various devices fitted into it were all the Emperor took the time for, resolving to walk in his garden later. His shamed bodyguards from the previous evening all reported to escort him to the Senate building, as they served more of an honorary function for the Emperor despite being puissant warriors. Each of the six felt the Emperor’s silence reflecting a brooding disquiet, but the man they called Princeps used words sparingly, and in fact still mulled over the events of the night before. He’d been vaguely aware of the link to the catacombs below the palace and had ordered them sealed off out of security concerns, but hadn’t taken the time to thoroughly explore them in the centuries he’d occupied the place above it. Managing a republic didn’t leave him much time for spelunking, but he still resolved to finish exploring below, lest he unknowingly guarded anything else. The Senate met a mere three hundred yards from the Emperor’s palace (and the Senate building had a slightly lower elevation), and the rainwater on the Emperor’s armor slid off almost instantly, leaving only his cloak weighed down by the rain. Two hundred senators filled the chamber, falling silent when the Emperor, Princeps, First Among Equals, Major Consul and Pontifex strode into the grand hall. Though the senate seats moved up in steps like an amphitheater, placing every senator above the Emperor, he still filled the room with his presence and commanded their attention. Some senators sought to align themselves with him for their own gain and others despised him, while most fell somewhere in between, jockeying for what political advantage they could while being forced to acknowledge their circumstances. The Emperor actually appreciated assassination attempts; one occured every few years, and served as a bleak reminder of how ineffective they were.
“We are relieved to see you well, Princeps.” The man saying this stood near the top of the steps, a porcine figure named Gorgias. His words dripped with sarcasm, but the Emperor paid him little heed. If he’d actually done more than eat confections and watch his men train while he commanded the Seventh Legion, his soft physique didn’t show it, and his fortunes could only hire a small handful of assassins before he became bankrupt. Permitting these tiny rebellions released pressure that might build up into a larger one.
“Thank you, senator. Your page stated you all wished to speak with me. So please speak.” Younger senators furtively looked at each other with perplexed expressions, while the older senators had long grown accustomed to the Emperor’s brevity. A woman from the middle terraces of the room spoke up. “Princeps, while matters of security and the Praetorian Guard are of course your sole purview, considerable damage was inflicted on multiple neighborhoods last night.”
“In addition to Senator Lucretia’s point, many citizens think it’s time to deal with the elven assassin guild all but operating openly in the city.” Gorgias interjected. “Surely your mighty guards could flush them out easily enough. We certainly don’t blame the brave men and women defending you, Princeps, but the damage caused did kill several citizens, and has made three neighborhoods nearly impassible.”
“No.” The Emperor’s voice had a way of filling the room without him needing to yell. “Seek damages in court if they have wronged your family, Gorgias. That is the law. As for the neighborhoods, I grieve for our lost citizens, but the influx of people have willfully defied city zoning and planning laws set forth years ago. This is an opportunity to open more thoroughfares and relocate anyone still living in those areas.”
Murmurs rose in the chamber. Before any could snowball into a proper argument, a younger senator turned to address the Emperor. “Princeps, forgive me if I’m being impertinent, but what was the goal of the assassins? Rumors insist they had little interest in killing you. Is this true?”
Rumors indeed. Was it the palace staff dreaming up these things, or the newer praetorians? “You are correct. The assassin did not act like someone intent on killing me.”
“I thought there was more than one? And will you tell us what their goal was?”
“No.” The Emperor’s tone brooked no arguing and the senator, a young man named Anton, looked crestfallen. “Princeps, we senators are concerned for your safety. Will you not help us help you?” Gorgias effected his most unctuous tone, and the Emperor idly wondered what he could hope to be getting out of this.
“Hire a geomancer to oversee demolition in the damaged areas of the city. I will release money from my own coffers to relocate the citizens living there. Additionally, have someone dredge the mouth of the river; I doubt the assassin would keep the warmachine he stole. Also, send word to those commanding our legions and have them remain vigilant. Expansion of the Republic will halt for the time being.” More murmurs erupted, as even the older senators were caught off guard. The Emperor turned and strode from the chamber, thinking to get back to his garden as swiftly as possible. He hadn’t even exited the building when Gorgias caught up with him, huffing and wheezing from the exertion of moving so quickly.
“Princeps” he panted, “you must... do something.. About the elves. Many nobles are calling for bl-” The Emperor stopped him mid sentence by lifting him with one arm and slamming him against the wall. Pressed against the stone, Gorgias’ face flushed as his breathing became even more labored.
“I already told you once, Gorgias, and I dislike interruption. The elves are of no concern to me. If you are too poor to hire as many as you need, or fear that another has made a contract on your life, I don’t care.” Leaning in close so that only Gorgias, whose face had started turning purple, could hear, the Emperor continued. “The Senate offers you vermin an illusion of control, and I abide the chaos of that chamber to stave off the greater insurrection I might incur by executing all of you. I suffer you to live, Gorgias, and do not ever think that I would be concerned about someone removing that burden from me. Interrupt me again for your solipsistic nonsense and I’ll remove this burden myself.” The Emperor dropped Gorgias to the floor as the latter sucked in a huge gulp of air, trying desperately to catch his breath and stop the shaking that had overcome his body. Republic law only permitted the family of a murder victim to prosecute a case against an alleged murderer, and the Emperor had specifically stopped measures to change this to a state issue. He had also been granted immunity from court prosecutions due to his position, meaning that Gorgias knew full well that the Emperor had not made an idle threat. Leaving the gasping man behind him, the Emperor retired to his garden at long last, to meditate among the green life around him; the elf last night had been Loki, his old master turned nemesis, of that he was certain. The second assassin had missed it, but the Emperor saw Loki mouth the word Pan, a name the Emperor had not heard in three centuries. He also had a vague understanding of the spear’s import, despite never having seen it before, subconsciously he knew that Loki risking the palace to retrieve it meant that something had started, something that could bring the Republic to its knees. Though he carefully monitored his time in the garden lest he drain too much prana for his plants to thrive, Emperor Pan mulled over the meaning of the previous night long after the garden and into the night. Events were now in motion that he didn’t fully understand, a completely alien and disconcerting sensation for the man who had firmly ruled this city and its lands for so many decades. Regardless of his uncertainty, he would not be caught unprepared.
***
“It’s about time you arrived.” The elven woman addressing Wolf had snow white hair held back from her face by an iron crown, ancient but curiously free of rust. Her horse matched her hair color, and a powerful recurve bow left no doubt that she hailed from one of the rare nomadic elven tribes from the eastern portion of the Great Continent. Two other elves had watched Wolf pull up to the small island where they stood, the latter having discarded his warmachine for the discreet dinghy he’d hidden at Bellaron’s docks. One elf had bright red hair and pale skin covered in places by elaborate blue-green tattoos, and he bore a distinctly un-elven like two handed sword with a worn pommel and gleaming steel visible from the half sheath at her back. The last elf wore her raven-black hair cropped short, and carried a brass-bound drinking horn made from a beast that no longer existed. The brass, like every other artifact here, showed no sign of its age. The four elves and the horses three of them had brought with them had the island to themselves. The woman with white hair, referred to as Snow by most, continued. “Then the dreams truly are prophetic.”
The red haired man, known as Luat, drew his blade with surprising grace for its massive size. “Indeed they are. I stood upon the stone and Fragarach answered.”
The last elf, the woman named Hekal, remained silent but raised her cup in a salute. The four stood silently together for a long while, taking in the significance of the moment, and the task before them. As the sun began to set behind the clouds, Luat began building a fire and Hekal produced a wine skin. Snow provided two freshly slain hares, and the four sat down for a meal as the rain slowed to a light drizzle. Wolf’s chuckling finally prompted Hekal to speak.
“What tickles you, then? I didn’t think the gravity of our mission would encourage such titillation.”
“It’s not the mission, my friend.” Wolf answered with a smile. “I just told a friend recently that the rain would be ending soon.”