---Inside the bar of the Dozy'Mare.---
A tender, warm glow seeped into the deep room of knocked-over tables, chairs, and ale, with the slight smell of blood in the air lingering with the fading honey.
The glow grew even brighter that was coming from the direction of the busted-down door; it was the sun's morning embrace wrapping over the shoulders of the four royal guards bouncing off the hall hidden around the corner where Yervel was once splayed out on.
The light of the sun offering no comfort to the show unfurling in front of them, no longer focusing directly on the four by the bar.
Concerned eyes of the four royal guards of the guild stood motionless, locking onto the woman and man in front, taking up the middle of the room of broken chairs and knocked over tables.
Curved, polished silvery helmets began to turn to the man in the middle who led the others, the bar and its inhabitants warping in the reflection atop their heads.
Guard to the right: Sir? 'Confused.' Isn't he a guard of the keep?
The man simply known as Hion, the captain of the royal guard, stood motionless, his gaze more on the woman than the other four, ignoring the fellow guard's look but still listening to his words of concern.
Hion's drifting attention from one to the other noticed the mark that was present on the woman's arm that lowered to her side, seeing something burnt into the soft but battered skin. Even though the emblem had healed and faded over time, as did the scars atop, Hion was still able to recognise it somewhat, as did one of the other men.
A startled whisper drifted into Hion's ear once more, this time, leaning closer as he spoke in a worried tone.
Guard to the left of Hion: Sir... That mark, is it? 'Wondering.' Could she be....
No direct answer came to the now-lingering question of the royal guard to the side of Hion and Hion himself began to ponder even further down the rabbit hole. For even the captain didn't know what to say in that moment; being trapped in what to do for the next course of action could very well be his last if his fears were proved right, for no one could go against that mark, not even he and his men.
Hion: (Muttering to himself.) It can't be, can it? 'Confused.' Especially in a place like this...
A set of eyes lifted up from the woman in the middle of the room hearing a commotion and her ears burned wildly, returning back down to the man on his knees, the flakes of yellow catching the light, glittering into gold just for a brief moment.
The other three guards could hear the mumblings of the captain's come to an abrupt end, the other three not noticing the woman look up then back down to her prey.
A cold sensation washed over Hion as he remained silent, feeling a pressure on his body, coming then going; it was a feeling he hadn't felt in a long time, not since the expedition to the north.
Byrnn, still gasping for air, keeled over, the pain in his stomach setting in, the discomfort moved to his liver.
All of the newcomers paused as the sole question of the visible mark ran through the minds of the other three upon seeing the crest burnt into the delicate skin still in view, ignoring the suffering guard as the man of questions spoke again.
Guard to the left of Hion: What are your orders? 'False confidence.' It must be a fake; no one from that... (Stopping himself from speaking any further.)
Hion shot up an open palm, calling for silence as he thought on his next move, just as Magio, still brandishing her sense of justice on the poor man on his knees, spoke out, not interested in the well-dressed hooligans.
Magio: I've asked you enough; now... I am going to beat it out of you! 'Cruel tone.' WHERE THE FUCK IS AYRELL! (Clenching her bloody knuckles.)
Another fist rose up, twisting back from the tall woman's waist and a right leg lowered, the tight trousers showing the carved figure more sensually now. In a single beautiful motion, a fist came crashing into the chest of the guard, the cord of the necklace wrapped around the woman's wrist, the stone nestled in the centre of the Magio's palm, safe from harm, but Byrnn wouldn't be so lucky.
*CREAKING OF WOOD THEN THE SMACK OF FIST INTO LEATHER, FOLLOWED BY THE LOUD GASPING OF A MAN.*
Byrnn, still on his knees, clutched onto his chest plate, not being able to get away or even given a chance to speak another word, as the valuable breath of air kept on leaving his lungs, trapped in an torturing asphyxiating paradox.
When the woman shouted out a name directed at Byrnn, a name attached to a question, rang out, Hion and the others briefly glanced at the bar. The four men in armour knew of the name being spoken, but not from the mouth of Magio, it came from another far away from this place.
Gonf, still sitting at the bar, noticed the men and their reactions, squinting in amusement.
A sense of duty took over Hion, pulling himself from the stupor brought on by the madness at hand, knowing full well that the matter he was assigned to was in front of him, just the bar out of reach.
Hion's thick hand clad in silver plates, beaten into curves, fitting the fingers that shifted to the small, rounded red crystal pommel of the sword on his hip, words trickled from the captain's mouth, gradually flowing as they went, directly aimed for the woman standing alone.
Hion: What is the meaning of this vile act on a guard of the guild? 'Concerned.' Why is that man... (Looking at Magio's arm, pausing.)
*SHORT AUDIBLE GASPS OF THE GUARD ON HIS KNEES BROKE OUT.*
The other three men next to Hion watched as their captain reached for something.
Hion: (Reaching for the handle of his sword.) I demand to know why one of the keepers is being treated so. 'Firm.' This is an act against the guild itself for he is a guard!
The armoured grip of the weighty hand tightened, moving downwards as the sword began to move from its home in one fell swoop, the weight pulling the sharp tip downwards to the ground as soon as it left the entirety of the sheath, almost sinking into the floor below, stopping just above the worn wood, sparing it from another mark, completely in control of the experienced man.
*SCRATCHING OF STEEL BLADE RUNNING ALONG THE EDGE OF THE SHEATH.*
Hion, edging forward ever so slightly, weighing up the situation and actions of the woman ahead.
The sun, illuminating the guards, moved along the armour, the new day still blooming at all of the people in the inn as well as the cold creeping in; all but one could see it, only feeling the slight wind on his exposed neck.
Long, thick shadows one by one streaked along the floor to the back of Byrnn, growing larger as they advanced onwards, merging into one large shadowy mass.
*SLOW SHUFFLING OF ARMOUR.*
Guards either side of the captain copied the unsheathing of swords, now fully leaving the darkened copper dwelling. Slowly, they all dropped their own pointed blades towards the wooden floor, hovering directly above the grain. Freshly sharpened edges on either side cut the daylight itself in two, splitting the light downwards across the shadows of the moving men.
Another demand came from the man in the middle of the royal guards now grabbing the interest of Magio, her fist still tightened, no longer aimed for the man below.
Hion could feel it would soon be sent his way as Magio was now looking at the four men moving closer, then to the swords aiming downwards, still hearing Byrnn below catch his breath.
Small, minute details along the rim of Hion chest plate where the copper trim sat, in between the joints of the lower and upper pieces of the chest and abdomen. The engraved markings of deeds of old and the position above the others of captain were craved deep into the metal, making him stand out only to a trained and experienced eye who knew of the markings.
Hion stopped, preparing to order the men behind him to halt with his free hand, his hand closing into a fist, demanding the men to stop as he spoke on.
Hion: With the authority that our lord has granted me as a member of the Armellian Guild. 'Firm voice.' I demand you cease your actions immediately! Or...
The captain, clad in silver armour, stared at Magio, wanting to finish but biting his tongue just in case his fears rang true.
As the men stopped, swords still drawn, the room grew heavy with a weighty atmosphere and Magio's hand tightened, the stone began to shimmer.
---Just outside of the Dozy'Mare, an almost empty street sat, waiting for the people to return.---
Unfettered by the long-gone crowd that lumbered themselves to the square to the north, only the lone solitary movements of a few slave hands meandered around, quietly working as they went until a faint scream came from the direction of the inn.
The slaves closest to the inn glanced towards the coming sound that moved on the wind, not yet reaching the the guards stationed at their posts ahead.
*SHIFTING OF WARES, BOXES AND BAGS BEING MOVED SLOWED DOWN.*
An uneasiness grew among the stalls as the rising and fading of the morning gust rustled the thick cotton sheets on the sides of the stalls, whipping off the souls left behind, bringing a fleeting comfort from the sun's heat that passed just as it came.
But no comfort would come; their fates already sealed and sold off long ago.
*GENTLE RUSTLING OF PINNED SHEETS TO THE SIDE OF THE STALLS.*
A mixture of human and beastly eyes turned away from the inn, interest fading as the menial tasks under the darkened stalls continued on, biding time for their masters eventual return. Not wanting to deviate from the jobs at hand or catch the eyes of the guards.
The glancing eyes of slaves moved downwards, now seeing a golem of steel starting to move. A man wielding a spear that was forced into the stone below turned, starting to speak aloud, noticing the slaves odd movements.
Guard closest to the inn: What? Just because your masters aren't here doesn't mean you should be slacking! 'Forceful.'
Odd shooting glances began to grow amongst the six guards that diverted off from the march, looking to themselves up and down the market street, no longer standing still as a concern started to fester as the sound moving on the wind grew louder.
Just barely hearing the commotion from the inn through their thick, padded helmets, they all could hear the screams of men.
Spears tightened and one of the guards, a tall man, left his post, slowly walking towards the bar with a worrisome look on his face, hearing the calls and cries of men.
Guard closest to the inn: What is going on in there? 'Unsure.'
A loud wail rose up from the Dozy'Mare that emanated from around broken down door, coming from the main room of the bar.
As the coming nightmare that would unfold from here on out began, this was only the beginning of something wanting to be free.