{"id":1261,"date":"2014-01-05T22:27:49","date_gmt":"2014-01-05T12:27:49","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blog.olympusrpg.org\/?p=1261"},"modified":"2014-08-21T04:29:08","modified_gmt":"2014-08-20T18:29:08","slug":"banestorm-angel-of-death","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.olympusrpg.org\/?p=1261","title":{"rendered":"Banestorm: Angel of Death"},"content":{"rendered":"

\"AngelOfDeath\"<\/a><\/p>\n

On the day of his father\u2019s funeral, a day that he should have been in deep mourning, Marcus, the new lord of Shambray, instead chose to visit the city\u2019s baths.<\/p>\n

It was more than simply a minor slight aimed at his late and frankly unlamented father. In a very large way, this was him celebrating the old monster\u2019s demise in a way he\u2019d never been allowed to before. When he was alive, Sergius had flat out forbade young Marcus from visiting these houses of ill repute, ostensibly for the damage they would do to his reputation, no matter that he himself was a regular visitor. In fact, Sergius\u2019 last wife had once been an attendant at the largest of the bathhouses \u2013 to his continued discomfort, Marcus had recognized her for he too had tasted her charms during one of his illicit visits in his more rebellious youth, though thankfully, she had not seemed to recall his face. Of course, it had not been his face <\/i>that she\u2019d been focused on in those days\u2026<\/p>\n

So here he was, striding boldly into the largest of the bathhouses with a cocky smile and a spring in his step, no longer cowed into submission by a man more than capable of having his only son beaten and abused for refusing to obey. It was a good day. Sergius was dead, Marcus himself was now the new lord, and finally, he could direct his attention toward repairing the damage wrought by his father\u2019s foolish and utterly senseless war against the archbishop. The man that now held that rank also was new, having replaced the late Nikolai when that archbishop passed under mysterious circumstances Marcus still suspected his father of being involved in, but thus far, this \u2026 Zabka had stirred from his fortified monastery deep within Serrun only rarely (and even then, only when surrounded by a wall of steel.) There were rumors about this man, of course, whispers that stated this archbishop was scarred or a provincial sort out of faraway Caithness or even \u2013 and this was Marcus\u2019 very favorite \u2013 not even a man, but rather a diabolical goblin raised high by the Church but no one paid them any more attention than they had paid the nonsense Sergius whispered about the late Archbishop Nikolai.<\/span><\/p>\n

Waving off his guard, Marcus slipped into the exclusive bath normally reserved only for the wealthiest of citizens and pushed the door closed. A dozen feet across, the room itself was dominated by the bath which was sunk into the floor. Diaphanous white sheets hung down from the ceiling, acting as curtains designed to hide the less than appealing walls or to conceal the movements of the staff. An open roof window let warm sunlight in, as well as the less appealing smells of the city, which was why there were so many scented candles scattered around on the wall and hidden behind the curtains. Shaking his head, Marcus slipped out of his clothes and stepped toward the steaming bath.<\/p>\n

In that moment, the walls moved.<\/p>\n

There were six of the would-be murderers, all dressed in white, including swaths of cloth concealing their faces, and bore bared blades. They advanced on silent feet, their eyes hard, and Marcus froze in sudden, shocked surprise. His eyes darted quickly toward the door \u2013 it was too far away! \u2013 and then, he cast around for something, <\/span>anything <\/i>he could use for a weapon. He drew breath to cry out for his guards.<\/span><\/p>\n

Cloaked in silence, a seventh figure, also garbed in white, dropped through the open roof window, landing briefly in a crouch behind the rearmost of the assassins. Marcus saw a flash of steel as the newcomer drew a slender blade.<\/span><\/p>\n

And then, men began dying.<\/span><\/p>\n

It was over almost before it even began and later, when Marcus had time to think about it, he still wasn\u2019t entirely sure what happened. He saw two of the assassins crumple almost instantly, and then, the man in white flowed toward a third man who reacted with blatant surprise at his appearance. The would-be murderer made a wild swing which the newcomer evaded easily, even as two more of the assassins sprang toward him. For a moment, Marcus couldn\u2019t see what was happening \u2013 there was too much movement, too much cloth blocking his line of sight \u2013 but a third man toppled, crimson spurting from bloody wounds, and then a fourth. The newcomer twirled through the curtains, before his thin blade flashed again. With a gurgle of surprise, a fifth man dropped to his knees, his hands automatically going to his stomach where he frantically tried to hold in guts.<\/span><\/p>\n

Which left only one of the assassins. He made a frantic thrust, but the newcomer caught the man\u2019s blade and then made a sharp twist of his own weapon, tearing the assassin\u2019s sword free. It struck the stone floor with a clang, but the man in white hooked his foot under the blade and somehow flipped it up into the air before snatching it with his free hand. Marcus stared in disbelief \u2013 was that even possible? \u2013 and it just as clearly caught the assassin by surprise as well. Under the swaths of cloth, his eyes widened.<\/p>\n

And then, the man in white thrust the newly captured sword into the assassin\u2019s chest.<\/p>\n

The would-be murderer gasped and looked down at the yard of steel in his chest before dropping to his knees. He coughed once before he slid sideways into the water. The man in white held onto his captured sword and it came free, blood dripping down its blade. He half-turned toward Marcus and then leisurely tossed the blade toward him, hilt first. The action caught Marcus by surprise, but he was not completely rooted in place and managed to snatch the slow-moving weapon out of the air before it could hit the ground. He looked back at the man in white who was already backing away into the curtains. With his now free hand, the stranger lifted one finger to where his lips should have been \u2013 Marcus could see nothing but smooth leather under the man\u2019s hood \u2013 and then nodded toward the door. Marcus glanced toward it, just as his guard captain stormed through the doorway, his own weapon bared.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy lord!\u201d Claudius exclaimed, his eyes wide as he took in the corpses scattered around the bath. Behind him, Marcus could see the bath-owner and the other two guards, all staring with open shock. \u201cAre you \u2026 are you well, my lord?\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n

\u201cI am,\u201d Marcus said with an ease he did not actually feel. He glanced in the direction of the man in white, but saw nothing. \u201cBut I fear this bath may need a good scrubbing.\u201d He flashed a smile at the bath-owner as he toed one of the corpses over. \u201cIf you would be so good to bring me my clothes,\u201d he said, \u201cI believe that I shall return to the keep.\u201d He strode forward, casually tossing the bloody sword aside. It struck the stone floor with a loud clatter.<\/span><\/p>\n

Only Claudius noticed how his arm shook.<\/p>\n

-\/\\-<\/p>\n

Under the suspicious eyes of his guard captain, Marcus fled to his quarters deep within the keep almost the very instant they arrived.<\/p>\n

His hands trembled nonstop as the delayed effects of the would-be murderers set in. Never before had he realized how close Death was for him. Oh, he knew about the Empire\u2019s predilection for assassins \u2013 this year, poison was once more back in fashion; last year, it had been death by whores \u2013 but until now, it had never really struck home how tenuous his position was. He was not even twenty, by God!<\/p>\n

Once the shaking fit passed, his mind sprang back into activity. Who could be responsible for such an attack? His father had possessed few allies and those that did were too weak to make such a strike. Of the lesser Houses, none would fare well should he fall \u2013 one of his first acts as lord of Shambray had been to take steps to ensure their fortunes were tied to his success. No one won if he fell this early. It simply did not make sense. Unless \u2026 unless \u2026<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2019Twas a near thing today,\u201d a soft voice stated. For the second time today, Marcus froze in shock. His head snapped around to the origin of the voice and found the hooded man in white standing there, directly in front of a small open door. The man should not have even known about that escape tunnel \u2013 as far as Marcus knew, his father had the men who constructed it put to death, and then had the guards responsible murdered. He swallowed the fear pounding in his throat.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt was,\u201d he said in a voice that sounded much calmer than he felt. \u201cI have you to thank, sir,\u201d he added. He took an extra moment to study the figure standing there, still unsure about how to proceed. This close, he realized the man was not entirely dressed in white \u2013 there was quite a bit of red as well, and silver glinted underneath the stranger\u2019s clothes. A featureless mask of hardened leather or white wood covered the man’s lower face. Embossed bracers protected the man\u2019s arms and upon them, Marcus could make out stylized dragons that instantly caused him to inhale sharply in recognition. Only one kind of man would dare wear such symbols in Megalos.<\/p>\n

Blademaster.<\/p>\n

\u201cThose men were the archbishop\u2019s,\u201d the hooded stranger stated. The curious mask the man wore prevented identification, but his words were strangely accented, as if he were foreign or at least long out of use at using the Emperor\u2019s Tongue. Marcus frowned.<\/p>\n

\u201cThat makes little sense,\u201d he declared. \u201cI have no disagreement with him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe sees you as weak,\u201d the stranger replied, \u201can impediment toward his rule.\u201d The man tilted his head slightly. \u201cYour father died because Zabka wished to avoid his predecessor\u2019s fate.\u201d Barely contained fury leaked into the stranger\u2019s voice when he spoke the archbishop\u2019s name. \u201cYou are an unknown quantity, my lord,\u201d he said, \u201cso he struck first in the chance that you are your father\u2019s son.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd what is your role in this, Hooded Man?\u201d Marcus demanded. \u201cI am no fool. No one places themselves in the danger you have without expectation of payment.\u201d He glowered. \u201cIs it gold you want? Gems?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cNeither.\u201d The man in white shifted very slightly. \u201cI desire greatly to \u2026 treat with the archbishop and repay him for injuries he dealt me.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThen do so,\u201d Marcus snapped, lingering fear loosening his tongue. \u201cYou had little difficulty stealing into here. The archbishop\u2019s home-\u201c<\/p>\n

\u201cIs magically warded against me,\u201d the stranger interrupted. \u201cZabka is no fool either. He has surrounded himself by cultists and worshippers of darkness who play at serving the Lord while profaning the Church with their every utterance.\u201d The man’s head shifted slightly away from them.<\/p>\n

Without warning, the door to his chambers flew open and Claudius sprang through it, his sword bared and his shield ready. He took two rapid steps to place himself between Marcus and the man in white and, from his body language, Marcus thought his old instructor meant to attack. Acting on instinct, he reached out with one hand and gripped the captain\u2019s shoulder, anchoring him in place.<\/p>\n

The man in white did not move even a step.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy lord!\u201d Claudius began, but Marcus held firm.<\/p>\n

\u201cStay your blade,\u201d he ordered. \u201cThis man saved my life today.\u201d Claudius opened his mouth to speak again, but Marcus continued, this time directing his words toward the hooded man once more. \u201cYou would not have risked capture or death to come here if you had no purpose. Speak it plainly.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThe streets of Serrun are rampant with murder and violence,\u201d the man in white said. \u201cMuch of it can be traced to Zabka and those he surrounds himself with.\u201d Marcus felt Claudius stiffen in surprise \u2013 he too had expressed similar beliefs ever since the new archbishop arrived to take office so many months ago \u2013 but wisely, the captain held his tongue. \u201cWith your permission, I will seek out and find the pit where these snakes hide.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd then?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI shall be merciless.\u201d There was no rage or fury or even the hint of concern in the man\u2019s voice, only a cold confidence that chilled Marcus to his very core. At the same time, though, a sliver of excitement filled his belly. This stranger had killed six men in a handful of seconds without making a sound or taking even a scratch. Yes, his actions would no doubt cause the streets of Serrun to run red with blood, but they were already soaked in it. If by another handful of deaths order could be established, then was that not a worthy goal?<\/p>\n

He nodded.<\/p>\n

And without a sound, the hooded man backed away, pulling the tunnel door closed behind him. Instantly, Claudius darted forward, securing the small hatch from the outside and shoving one of Marcus\u2019 heavier chairs against it. He then turned baleful eyes toward Marcus.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat in God\u2019s name have you gotten yourself into, my lord?\u201d he asked.<\/p>\n

\u201cThe higher one ascends,\u201d Marcus replied wryly, \u201cthe more treacherous the footing, it seems.\u201d He nodded toward the open door of his quarters and Claudius quickly stomped toward it, pushing it closed. \u201cYou knew I did not kill those men in the bath today,\u201d he said simply.<\/p>\n

\u201cI did,\u201d Claudius answered. \u201cYou are a competent enough bladesman, my lord, but that is beyond you, I fear.\u201d He frowned in the direction of the escape tunnel. \u201cBut a man wearing dragon-marks?\u201d he said. \u201cThat I can believe.\u201d Shaking his head, he glanced back at Marcus. \u201cThis will end in much bloodshed, my lord,\u201d he said. \u201cA great number of men will die because of the decision you made this day.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cDeath comes for all of us,\u201d Marcus said calmly. \u201cIf they are meant to live, then God will grant them shelter. And if not\u2026\u201d He shrugged.<\/p>\n

-\/\\-<\/p>\n

The first body appeared the very next day.<\/p>\n

Though the man claimed to be a butcher, everyone in Serrun knew that his true trade was murder and the discovery of his corpse, propped up just outside the monastery gate caused such a commotion that Marcus was forced to take publicly note of it. With Claudius at his side and a selected group of guardsmen, he inspected the body \u2013 there were no signs of torture or abuse, and the killing blow was so precisely placed that he nearly overlooked the thin crease in the dead man\u2019s shirt \u2013 before pronouncing before the populace that his militia would investigate.<\/p>\n

Another body turned up that same evening, this time of a defrocked priest who had been cast out of the clergy by the late Nikolai for buggery and other unnatural acts, but somehow clawed his way back into the monastery\u2019s good graces since the new archbishop came to power. Again, the body was found resting against the wall of the fortified monastery and again, no one knew how it had come to be placed there. The whispers began almost at once.<\/p>\n

Over the next week, a half dozen more bodies appeared, always arrayed against the monastery\u2019s walls and always of decidedly dark reputation. There were the two brothers believed to have been the false butcher\u2019s enforcers, the whore who had murdered four girls and stolen their babies only to suffocate the infants when they did not stop crying, the innkeeper who half the city believed to be responsible for a dozen missing children, and both of the wealthy noblemen who openly bragged about how they had stalked and murdered a trio of prostitutes. Even in the keep, so far from the common people, Marcus could feel the sudden shift in temperament of his city. His guards watched everyone more carefully now, the cooks and servants were trying very, very hard to avoid being noticed, and even his priest was a bit more reticent than normal.<\/p>\n

And then, the sightings began.<\/p>\n

No one was quite sure who was the first to see the Hooded Man, but word of his appearance spread like wildfire and soon,\u00a0he was frequently noticed near the bodies, almost as if he were encouraging reprisal attempts or allowing himself to be observed. One of the more violent gangs that operated mostly out of the small harbor let it be known that they would find this hooded man and tear him apart.<\/p>\n

Instead, he sought them out first.<\/p>\n

And they died. All of them.<\/p>\n

As spring turned to summer, the bodies continued to appear and even the nobility were not safe. Nine of the minor Houses lost scions to their lines and it would not be until later, when things settled somewhat, that the dark deeds of these men and women came to light. One was a molester of little children, another buggered sheep, yet another trafficked in the dark arts, but they all had one thing in common: they\u2019d visited the archbishop and the monastery to seek false absolution before returning to their wicked ways.<\/p>\n

Rumors and innuendo filled the city, and soon,\u00a0the smallfolk of Serrun whispered that the angel of death had been summoned to the city to root out corruption and cleanse the Evil that stained their home. Churches that had fallen into disrepair thanks to the archbishop\u2019s repeatedly stated preferences found their congregations swelling once more and His Grace\u2019s favored locales were abandoned en masse lest one be accused of having ties to him. Nine priests of varying ranks, all with close ties to Archbishop Zabka, were found dead, most by their own hand. The poorer deacons who had been pushed aside when Nikolai passed found themselves suddenly thrust into positions of surprising authority. Most clung to their principles and refused to abuse their newfound power. Two did not.<\/p>\n

And the Angel of Death, the Hooded Man, the dragon-marked man in white visited them as well.<\/p>\n

Throughout the long, bloody summer, as the death toll continued to climb and the bodies kept appearing, Marcus\u2019 conscience warred with his desire for order. He lost five advisers in those weeks, men he would later discover to have been spying on him for the archbishop, as well as his favorite courtesan, but he took no action to curtail the Hooded Man apart from a token effort to hunt the man down with his guards – that effort paid dividends as well, however, as pursuit of the man in white allowed his men to\u00a0uncover a small coven of demon worshippers which they very promptly put to the sword. Because he alone of the great Houses in Serrun was left alone by this mysterious man in white, the people of the city began looking to him as their rightful lord instead of the archbishop. He wisely swallowed his instinctive desire to begin issuing orders and directives \u2013 it was well known that power corrupted and he had no desire at all for the Angel of Death to visit him.<\/p>\n

Claudius never once spoke against him or revealed the knowledge he possessed about the Hooded Man, not even when Marcus, in a purely political move, ordered his guardsmen and militia to abandon Serrun\u2019s tradition colors of gold and green in favor of white and red. The smallfolk cheered the decision \u2013 to them, Lord Marcus was officially declaring himself the Angel of Death\u2019s ally and the more superstitious (and unlearned) of them hoped this would spare them from his wrath. That this action would allow the Hooded Man to operate even more freely throughout the city never once entered Marcus\u2019 mind.<\/p>\n

Or so he claimed.<\/p>\n

Autumn crept by and the archbishop\u2019s power structure shrank even further. The number of monks found outside the monastery grew \u2013 most were discovered long after the Angel of Death visited them, but a small few went directly to Lord Marcus and threw themselves upon his mercy, speaking tales of horror and darkness from within the confines of the archbishop\u2019s tiny fortress.<\/p>\n

And then, the night before the tradition Harvest Festival, everything changed.<\/p>\n

-\/\\-<\/p>\n

Word came to Marcus as he was reclining in his bath \u2013 men, both guards and shopkeepers alike, had observed the Angel of Death enter the monastery just after dusk. The end times were nigh, the fearful moaned. Judgement had come to Serrun. Marcus ignored their superstitious nonsense and looked at Claudius.<\/p>\n

\u201cAssemble the militia,\u201d he ordered. \u201cAnd bring me my armor.\u201d<\/p>\n

He rode out of the keep at the head of his small force of soldiers and, to his surprise, found the streets thick with people. All of them \u2013 all of them <\/i>\u2013 were wearing cloaks of white and Marcus tried hard not to adjust his own ermine-trimmed garment. His men had eagerly donned surcoats of argent and crimson, and even without looking back at them, he could tell they were marching in perfect unison. Fear was in the air.<\/p>\n

Once at the gates of the monastery, he reigned his horse in and allowed the militia to form around him. The sounds of the city were strangely muted, as if all of Serrun was holding its breath in anticipation for what came next. Claudius gave him a wry look hidden mostly behind the old man\u2019s helmet that almost conveyed a question without words. What now?<\/p>\n

\u201cWe shall advance in mass,\u201d Lord Marcus bellowed. \u201cUp spears!\u201d The clatter of weapons being raised echoed hollowly over the quiet streets. \u201cForward!\u201d<\/p>\n

They were greeted with only more silence as they spilled into the monastery\u2019s courtyard. Here and there, they found bodies of fallen monks \u2013 there were not as many as Marcus feared to find, and those he did see were invariably near weapons. Some small few even still clutched to their blades, even in death. Fires were already beginning to spread from the larger building to the smaller \u2013 there was very little chance of it spilling out into the city proper, not with this great wall enclosing the entirety of the monastery, but Marcus gave orders for his men to begin spreading out and containing the flames as best as they could nonetheless. He cast around for some explanation for what had happened, but found none.<\/p>\n

\u201cLook!\u201d one of his soldiers exclaimed, pointing up to the roof of the great monastery. Marcus\u2019 head snapped around and, for a moment only, he saw a figure in white standing there, surrounded by smoke and fire.<\/p>\n

And then, the Angel of Death, the Hooded Man, the dragon-marked man in white was gone from sight.<\/p>\n

\u201cGet those fires out!\u201d Marcus roared. He glanced once more toward the roof of the monastery and then put it out of his mind. There was work to do. In the ashes, they would find hints of devil worship and darker sorcery, signs of genuine faith suborned and corrupted into something else. The archbishop\u2019s body was never found \u2013 some believed he was taken by the fire, others were certain he had been dragged down to hell by the Angel of Death. A very small but fearful minority whispered that Zabka had escaped, and had fled to distant lands, always looking over his shoulder and knowing that the Hooded Man was hot on his trail.<\/p>\n

On days when he was feeling very low, Marcus wondered if he had chosen the correct path. Upon discovering the idols of darkness, he had given orders to raze the monastery and salt the earth \u2013 it greatly angered the Church for a time and he came perilously close to excommunication, but in the end, the Holy Order of St. Michael Olybrius sided with his decision and the Abbot of Evrow himself, Father Jobert, spoke before the Curia in his defense. For his part, Marcus chose not to say more than what he had to \u2013 he left out conveniently damning information, such as the Hooded Man\u2019s vambraces that identified him as a blademaster, and refused to speculate on the possibility that the man responsible for so much death was anything other than a mortal being, driven to terrible lengths by hate and fury. Serrun had survived the onslaught, though, and for him, that was truly all that mattered.<\/p>\n

But still, he could not help but to wonder about who the man was, why he hated Zabka so, and whether justice had indeed been done.<\/p>\n

-\/\\-<\/p>\n

The watered-down ale did little to wash the travel dust from his mouth, but Gabriel Auditore swallowed it nonetheless as he glanced around.<\/p>\n

Were he honest with himself, he would have said the tiny roadside tavern was barely a step up from sleeping in the woods, but God help him, he was tired of rocks for mattresses and he wanted a real bed. And a bath. That even before a bed. Hunger was hardly an issue, though he would not turn down something hot and filling. As this was Caithness, he had doubts about the taste, but he\u2019d eaten far worse over the years.<\/p>\n

The door to the tavern slammed open and a swaggering fool of a man strode in, pausing briefly to actually preen in full sight of the tavern inhabitants. His clothes were of an exquisite cut and fashionable, but the sword at his side had more jewels on the hilt than most brothels this side of the Blackwoods and Gabriel doubted it had ever been drawn in anger. Even the man\u2019s mustaches were oiled and tapered to a razor point. Gabriel felt his lip curl up in a disgusted sneer. Nobles. Feh.<\/p>\n

\u201cHave you naught but pig-swill?\u201d the dandy asked of the tavern keeper, a highborn Megalan accent slurring his voice into something barely comprehensible. He peeled off his leather gloves and idly handed them to a hulking brute of a man who Gabriel suspected was there solely to keep this peacock from getting killed. Shaking his head, he tuned the fool out and turned back to his inner reflection.<\/p>\n

By his calculations, he could reach Wallace in four or five days. Less if he pushed, but Cometes was getting old and though the charger could still outrun the wind, Gabriel always felt bad when he pushed his loyal horse that hard. So \u2026 Wallace in five days, a visit to Rainald and perhaps Dane, and then on to Tredroy. If the rumors were true and Zabka had <\/i>survived to go there, the Gabriel meant to find the bastard and introduce him to a world of pain the man could not possibly imagine.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou there, peasant.\u201d The dandy loomed over him, posturing once more. Gabriel had never completely lost track of the man \u2013 one of the first lessons he\u2019d learned when he sought out the Masters was how to keep track of all potential threats, even when he was not actively paying attention to them \u2013 but until now, he\u2019d not given the little man-child his full attention. When he looked up, Gabriel noticed instantly how the nobleman\u2019s guard tensed. He almost smiled \u2013 at least one of them knew better than to poke at a sleeping bear. \u201cI desire that seat. Move along.\u201d The dandy gestured, as if he fully expected to be obeyed.<\/p>\n

So Gabriel did nothing.<\/p>\n

He stared hard at the fop standing there, calculating the nineteen \u2026 no, twenty different ways he could kill or incapacitate the little fool from their respective positions. The guard at the nobleman\u2019s side shifted and Gabriel left his eyes jump to that man. He took in a dozen little things instantly \u2013 the way he stood indicated a weak right knee; the man\u2019s weight and posture implied strength but little speed; the hauberk was of poor quality and loose on the left side; the noble had positioned himself in his guard\u2019s way, which would give Gabriel two, maybe even three extra seconds to react \u2013 and was gratified at how quickly the man\u2019s body language transformed from aggressive to worried. And now, for the coup de grace.<\/p>\n

With deceptive calm, Gabriel lifted his tankard to his lips, allowing his sleeve to fall open. He was not wearing the vambraces at the moment, so the tattoo was easily observed. The guard\u2019s eyes flickered to it and all color fled from his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cMy lord,\u201d he murmured softly. At the tone, the dandy finally took note of his minder\u2019s caution. He glanced up, then back at Gabriel. He started to frown but saw the dragon-mark. Comprehension flared in his eyes \u2013 slowly, but it was there \u2013 and he forced a smile on his face.<\/p>\n

\u201cI have changed my mind,\u201d he announced, as if it was not knowledge about impending death that drove him. \u201cI do not wish to tarry here after all.\u201d A moment later, they were gone, scurrying out the door with such speed that they brought to mind whipped curs. Less than a moment later, though, a new man entered, this one wide with muscle and scowling in the direction of the fleeing men. Gabriel\u2019s eyebrows shot up as the newcomer glanced around and then grinned brightly when his eyes fell upon him.<\/p>\n

\u201cGabe!\u201d Rainald North-Hammer bellowed, his voice shaking the rafters of the tavern. He stomped across the floor and thrust out his hand in greeting. Tentatively, Gabriel reached for it and suddenly found himself drawn into a bone-crushing embrace. \u201cMy friend!\u201d the barbarian exclaimed loudly. He pushed Gabriel back and half turned toward the tavern-keeper. \u201cAle!\u201d he ordered. \u201cAnd I don\u2019t want that weak horse-piss you serve normally!\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cYou are far from home,\u201d Gabriel commented once his old friend had dragged a chair to the table.<\/p>\n

\u201cA long story,\u201d Rainald replied, \u201cfor another time.\u201d Gabriel nodded. \u201cWhat about you?\u201d Rainald asked. \u201cHow did you get here?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cA long story,\u201d Gabriel repeated, \u201cfor another time.\u201d The North-Hammer laughed loudly \u2013 there was not much he did quietly as Gabriel recalled \u2013 and grabbed his flagon.<\/p>\n

\u201cTo long stories!\u201d he exclaimed. They drank and the big man almost immediately launched into an unlikely tale about how he recently encountered three improbably attractive witches who needed the assistance of a strong man who knew no fear. There was a bit more gray in his hair, but some things, it seemed did not change.<\/p>\n

Gabriel wondered why that pleased him.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

On the day of his father\u2019s funeral, a day that he should have been in deep mourning, Marcus, the new lord of Shambray, instead chose to visit the city\u2019s baths. It was more than simply a minor slight aimed at his late and frankly unlamented father. In a very large way, this was him celebrating […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":17,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[6,20],"tags":[29],"class_list":["post-1261","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-banestorm","category-bs_pcs","tag-gabery"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.olympusrpg.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1261","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.olympusrpg.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.olympusrpg.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.olympusrpg.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/17"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.olympusrpg.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1261"}],"version-history":[{"count":9,"href":"https:\/\/blog.olympusrpg.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1261\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1878,"href":"https:\/\/blog.olympusrpg.org\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1261\/revisions\/1878"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.olympusrpg.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1261"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.olympusrpg.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1261"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.olympusrpg.org\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1261"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}