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Gaithe walked into Chester-le-Ford’s Town Hall with anticipation.
This settlement was where their trail stopped, their last lead to track down the stolen blood. If she couldn’t find it, it could be anywhere and the consequences could only be disastrous. She had a feeling she was about to get lucky though, something was definitely going on here. Gaithe tightened the straps of her leather gauntlets, and look around, already planning emergency exit strategies, as per standard Vel’thrank Ceran protocol. Several members of her force were exploring the village, looking for signs of the blood, but most of her force was outside the city, in secret campsites waiting for her orders. All of the members of her task force were battle hardened and experienced, in fact, Gaithe herself had the least amount of experience of anyone sent on this mission, and she had been with the Vel’thank Ceran since she was halfway to adulthood.
The more she thought about it, the less sense it made. a good three quarters of her soldiers were pulled from duty as King Anthrail’s personal guard, which left him about a fifth of his normal protection, and the ones that were left were hardly the pick of the bunch. Gaithe snapped out of her worry as she was ushered into Countess Liserett’s office. Originally, Sorik that captain of Liserett’s guard warned her to keep to the inn, and not to attract any attention, but just as she was about to open the inn door, the sergeant that met her at the town gate rushed up to her and informed Gaithe that the Countess wished to meet with her immediately in her personal study.
Gaithe looked around the study as soon as she entered, immediately noticing that Liserett was not alone. There were two men in the study as well, although one looked incredibly ill, basically a walking corpse that keeps going only by force of will. The other one was tall, wide of shoulders and had shockingly red hair contrasting with his pale skin. The Countess, a middle aged woman with a piercing gaze, addressed her sternly. “Captain Gaithe, welcome to Chester-le-Ford. You have met Captain Sorik, here are my sons, Sir Athelric, and Constable O’Kleefe. Please be seated.”
Gaithe met Liserett’s gaze for a few seconds, unblinking, before tightening a strap on her left bracer, and taking a seat. “Thank you for seeing me so soon, I was worried I would be waiting for a while.”
This remark was met with an uneasy silence and a shared glance between Constable O’Kleefe - the ill-looking lad - and Sorik. Liserett smiled stiffly. “What brings you here Captain Gaithe?”
“Well, as it happens, we have been following the trail of several thieves who made out with … certain vials of blood from Pyrencia, and Chester-le-Ford is our latest stop.”
“Yes, I understand that such vials were smuggled into Chester-le-Ford. What makes this blood… valuable as you put it?”
Gaithe’s eyes moved from person to person, unsure of how much trust she was willing to put in these strangers. All her protocol dictated she maintain absolute secrecy, but then she remembered her conversation with Nathaniel, ‘...your orders will not be clear cut anymore. We will expect you to make critical decisions under pressure.’ A feeling in her gut told her that if she didn’t give them a real reason, she would get nothing out of this meeting.
“It’s a bit of a complicated matter really. How familiar are you with Pyrencian physiology?”
Liserett chuckled, coldly without smile. “I studied it just enough to know they were not suitable for my needs… at the time.”
Gaithe blinked. “Well, allow me to give you a crash course then. Blood is the center of our beings. While most denizens of a given nation share certain characteristics, ours are both strikingly similar, but can also be eerily disparate. Our bloodlines mean a lot more to us then just pure genealogy. The bloodline that is most dominant in us results in different abilities, depending on the god most of us believe originated that bloodline. Now, I know you are unlikely to believe in our gods, but that’s not the important part. The physical and mental differences are real enough, even if we disagree on where they came from. For example, some of our scholars believe that what separates us from normal elves and humans is actually a potent parasite that lives in our blood, draining our life, while simultaneously granting us abilities that make the host more likely to survive to reproduce, which also explains our drastically shortened lifespans. Now, some bloodlines are more powerful than others, and the vials that were stolen are from a bloodline that is only equaled by the royal bloodline itself.”
Gaithe paused, wondering if she had said too much and if it would be enough. The four people in front of her seemed to ponder her words for a moment, but she could hardly read them, the only thing she was sure of was that they were concerned and that something was going on. Sorik leaned forward, staring at her intently. “So people of this bloodline have... abilities. Fair enough, but what of the blood on its own?”
Gaithe swallowed. If she said too much and Nathaniel or King Anthrail decided it was not worth it, she could be expelled from her position, or worse, stripped of her blood. But she was sure that if she went back empty handed, there were far worse consequences, not for her, but for everyone. “Okay, I’ll tell you, but i need your oaths that you won’t give out this information, it could be disastrous in the wrong hands.”
Liserett dryly retorted. “It probably is in the wrong hands, right now. We will keep your secret, Captain Gaithe, let’s please get on with this now.”
“Very well. Normal Pyrencian blood, if injected and infused properly has the potential to turn a human or an elf into a full blooded Pyrencian, however, if it’s done improperly, the receiver of the injections either dies in agony, or becomes a Fallen, which are essentially the same as the walking dead that plague the nights. However, this particular blood - the bloodline of Absalom - if injected improperly, does not turn men into Fallen, rather, it turns them into what your language calls, Endermen.”
As soon as Gaithe finished speaking, Sorik got to his feet and exited the room. Liserett sighed. “I really hoped these were folktales… Captain Gaithe, I suppose it is our turn to speak to you.”
Gaithe sat back in the chair, feeling both relief and dread at what she had just done. She felt in her heart that giving them one of Pyrencia’s most closely guarded secrets was the right decision, but she couldn’t help worrying about the outcome. She could only hope that these were good people, and that they would help her reclaim the blood that could bring more darkness into this already tainted world.
Liserett nodded to Athelric who now addressed her. “Some months ago, the garrison intercepted a vial of blood that was being smuggled into the city. It soon became clear that the person carrying the vial knew little about the real origin or destination of the blood, and since we had no reason to truly worry about the stuff, the woman was fined and the vial confiscated. However, the following night, two men snuck in the garrison and stole it. In the process, two men were killed and constable O’Kleefe here present - the only person able to identify the attackers - was viciously stabbed in the mid section and was therefore unable to provide any information until recently. Two weeks ago, my brother revealed to us the identity of one of the attackers. Careful observation taught Captain Sorik that the man meets others once a week after the curfew, which we believe is where we’ll find our answers.”
He clasped his hands together and looked back at his mother who took over from that point. “The garrison is to strike in two days. Your arrival, Captain, is both welcome and problematic. You can certainly join forces with the garrison in that strike, but until then, I ask you to avoid attracting attention to yourselves. About twenty men are going to be apprehended if we do this right. We do not want them to be suspicious.”
“That is of no issue, half my training was dedicated to being unnoticed unless I want to be seen.”
“And the other half?”
“Well, let’s just say that half is a tad bit more… violent.”
_________________ By the will of Azarn -Erastil -King of Pyrencia -The Hydra For a full list of titles, please see enclosed document. viewtopic.php?f=4&t=741
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