General Adam Jenners thought that the rest of the White Guard would never get there when finally spell after spell---there were four in all--finally resolved. And then the rest of the Guard arrived. Just when I stop watching the pot waiting, Jenners thought.
It was Jenners that was running the task of tracking down A'Rann Adams, alive, if possible, and delivering him to Lord Drakharr at Duststand Citadel. Dustland Citadel, home of the White Guard and many other militant groups, was just northeast of Oasis at the very edge of the protection that Sysellis, the ages-old Tree of Power than protected Oasis and a very large, nine mile radius beyond, reached. He wasn't fond of the task, of hunting an old friend, not that he would tell anyone so, ever concerned with at least his best attempt at showing his fealty to Drakharr.
Xyloxis Drakhhar, known only as Lord Drakhhar by most, was keeping watch with his Drake--a dragon/humanoid hybrid race--abilities, Jenner was quite sure. He grimaced without really noticing he was doing so until he became aware he was breathing out of an open mouth; he corrected the grimace immediately.
Before he had sent General Jenners to his task, he knew scouts were sent to both Archaea in the North, and Veldamm in the west. No need for a scout all the way to the east, five to seven or more miles of Hallowed Dunes deadlands to Azuaea near the Great Sea, nor the colonies along the coast going southwest, far below the Hallowed Dunes.
Though Drakharr would likely never admit so, none really knew the state of Aenim, stasis having ended in most regions. Sending a scout too far could be equal to a death sentence, or some other malady, for that scout.
Paige Altern and Anton Clearheart, couple and partners as they were, arrived first.
"The crisis?" Anton asked, looking over at Paige, his wife. She had honey-colored skin, thin features, a bit tall for Anton, whose lips met her chin.
"I'm ready--" Paige began, pulling out her twin long-blades from her meaty hips, looking at her husband, slightly shorter than she but with broad shoulders, darker skin that was somewhere between dark sand and light-brown mud.
"it appears," Adam Jenners stood to his stumpy, five-and-one-quarter feet, and continued, "that Adams is back and somewhere in the catacombs. Korah, Elle and Leif have gone down to hunt him down. When the others arrive--," he began to say when two more gate-spells closed sending a reverberating swooshing sound, enhanced by the acoustics of the room.
Out of one stepped Alana Darkheart, her name a psuedonym for her Dark-Knight training; from another came Stothek Stromsten, the young, brash Paladin.
"I'll wait," Jenners conceded, "until the others arrive.
Stothek and Alana both nodded and checked their heavier, plated armor for durability. Paige and Anton stretched: Paige checked her blades; Anton, however, loaded his guns, he relied on technology, not magic, to do his work, his bullets were mytril-tipped, but enhanced by sedative loads meant to stun and disarm, not to kill; a six shooter rested on each broad, muscular hip. He made sure he could pull them when he needed to, that there were no obstructions, and then he practiced the pulling of his guns, mostly without effort. He had fast hands that nearly blurred with speed when he needed to stun offenders.
"How many?" Alana asked, shimmering in cobalt plate, her gauntlets, also mythril-fortified, and looked to her left, at Stothek. He wore similar plate armor, but was far more costly and made of a mythril-platinum hybrid, and consecrated. He smiled, she smiled back.
"It's just Adams--"Alana began, but was interrupted.
"We think it's just Adams," Jenner stated, but only Adams knew—and Leif to some degree--knew what really might be down there."
"i suppose Leif, Korah and Elle were here first, their earlier risers and often quicker than I." Stothek admitted.
"Speak for yourself, Sto'," Alana interjected, "I've been up since the sunrise but had...other concerns to deal with," she suggested. What she had been doing was clearing the northern district of Oasis--Highwatch, it was called—of the usual suspects. This included drunkards, thieves, and general annoyances into their residences, bound by her Shadow-casted binding spells, minor magician that the woman was.
"They were," Jenners replied, frowned then began again, smiling,"were waiting for two more."
"You mean the brats," Anton said, not unkindly. Paige slapped his arm playfully, then added, "be nice, dear."
"Yes, love." He grinned.
"They're not honestly going down there, are they?" Stothek asked Jenners.
"Fate and Harmony? No. They'll be here with me, up top. Their too young, but they'll see clear enough," Jenners answered then went silent.
"Good," both Alana and Stothek nearly said at the same time. Alana added, "they wont mind--not much."
"Just a little bit," Stothek teased; the quintet laughed.
After another moment, the final two gates closed, minutes apart. From the first, appeared Harmony J'Tall. Seventeen, she was dressed in white pants and a warm, woolen cloth of white, beneath her white cloak, shorter than her other friends, she was just past five-feet tall.
"Am I late?" She asked, smiling broadly, her ivory complexion, contrasting long black braids, wrapped around in a cute, double-bun.
"No, dearie," Paige replied. Harmony walked towards the statue near the door. "I was in class, of course."
"Of course," Jenners added.
The final gate closed seven minutes later, and during that time Harmony mostly spoke about some of the History and Science classes she'd been studying on. The others knew of these things but listened contentedly, anyway. One day she would be of great value to the White Guard, Jenner was quite sure, but she didn't need to foolishly push her considerable good luck any more than needed. Until then, she would have all the support of the Guard, even if that meant just showing an interest in what they already knew, yet she was merely learning.
After those seven minutes had passed, the final gate closed with a spark-like sound and young Fate Ray'Inns, stepped out. "Damn it all, at last...am I last, again?" He looked to the sky, quite embarrassed. Harmony laughed, and while doing so walked to give her true friend a hug. Fate stood nearly six-feet tall, but was thin and lanky, not yet developed into the man he would eventually become. He had azure eyes, like Harmony's. His skin was the color of sand, though he was mostly a high elf, while Harmony was more of a Wood-elf.
"Good to see you Harmony," he said in his cracking, sixteen year old voice.
"You, too, dear heart." Harmony chimed in almost musically.
"Well, then, we're all here," Jennners prefaced. He then scratched at his beard and waited for the seven of them to huddle close near in the eight feet of distance between the diamond-crested statue and the runed, marble door. He explained what had happened, how Leif, Korah and Elle had headed down first.
After explaining, Jenners began to issue commands. "Alana, Stothek, Paige, and Anton, head down the catacombs, you'll see your way. Paige, I'm sure you can track their steps through the dusty halls." He commanded, then: "Fate and Harmony, stay here with me, be my eyes and tell me what hells is going on down below."
"Yes," Fate said, to which Harmony nodded. Fate and Harmony, were nearly the same in their telepathic abilities, still growing, but together, amplified each others abilities and could best tell General-Knight Adam Jenners just what was going on down below, and not with too much effort, either.