58th of Spring
4th Bell
4th Bell
“I don’t care if you don’t like the idea.” The Rayvekh’s hands moved furiously to emphasize her point. No choice. Her dark eyes bore down into the man shamelessly revealing her passion for her work and lack of patience with the subordinate. Before the man even had a chance to protest, the woman’s right hand come up to silence his words. “This is the decision that’s been made. Take two men, the slave, the volunteers and use the Guardian as your guide.” Helena Swiftrun was not a woman to be trifled with and today was no exception. She had gone back to weaving a harness for her hunting cat. The man could have argued more but the way her hands crossed the fibers spoke volumes about how she might just as easily flay the skin from his bones.
Admitting defeat, Aris nodded his head in respect and exited the tent. Once outside he placed his hands on his face and took a deep breath. Slowly, he pulled his fingers down along his features as if to wipe away the degradation he had just endured. Aris was a man who didn’t like to soften his words but given the task ahead of him, he knew that he had to find an outlet for his frustrations before carrying out his orders. The Tavehk left the space set aside for the leadership and made his way to where there was a small training space. Several training posts formed an arc but because it was so early, no one was using them.
Aris walked right up to the closest one and started laying open palm strikes against the post and the extremities. The routine was slow at first; a left cross, a right jab then another cross. Each hit sent a shockwave through the watchman’s arms which seemed to invigorate him. Single strikes morphed into combinations of two, three four and even five hits. The post began to shake and creak under protest from the abuse but this acted as motivation for the Drykas. For ten chimes, Aris pounded away on the training device until sweat formed on his brow in tiny beads. Feeling satisfied, the man made his way to the barracks to retrieve the first of his company and fill them in on the mission.
Aris walked at a brisk pace around the training area and into the larger tent where many single Ra’athi stayed. Most of them were young and viewed the barracks as a way to be on their own away from the watchful eyes and an ankal. The entire set-up encouraged the recruit to think and feel more like an adult since many had not ever made decisions on their own. When the middle-aged man entered, several young men who were playing some kind of game of chance stopped what they were doing to give the elder watchman their attention. Aris waved over two young men that he frequently used as part of his patrol or when he needed to be certain something was done properly. Sparrow and Taggert trotted over and began adjusting their gear in preparations for duty. The look on their Tavehk’s face was enough to confirm their suspicions.
“Get the girl from the River Flower and meet me behind the Amethyst line.” Aris looked from Sparrow’s light eyes as a nod of agreement was given and then to the dark orbs of Taggert. The young man smiled and nodded as well. Having his orders confirmed, Aris left the tent and went to gather his things for the long journey that lay ahead.
+ + + + +
Each volunteer would receive a special visitor at the 5th bell. A Ra’athi of no particular standing or importance would rouse them from their tents and instruct them to pack for the trip. Everyone saw the woman being escorted through town to the medical tent. The rumors flew and the speculation had some up in arms while others were packing up shop to head for the coast. The select few who stuck around long enough to offer assistance were noted but politely turned away. A week later they were contacted and explained that a journey to help the poor woman might be in order but no other details were offered. Several days later, the journey was set to begin. Each watchman would be especially polite but would not answer any questions in regards to the details of the endeavor. It was not their place and likely information that was not given in the first place. The Watch was big on compartmentalization. Once the volunteer was ready to leave, they would be led to the outskirts of Endrykas behind the line of tents and shops that belonged to the Amethyst clan.
+ + + + +
5th Bell
Merevaika was in a small cage made of sticks that were tied together with strong braided rope. Her gear had been stripped long ago and was kept in a chest that doubled as a bench for her guard. The watchman was older and had many scars. His eyes never left the young girl. He seemed restless yet fully content to burn holes into her skin with his stare. The intense silence was broken when the dimness of the tent was flared by the flap being tossed aside allowing the first graces of Syna’s light to cover everything. The guard squinted and wrapped his big fingers around the hilt of his gladius. When he saw the figure, he stood upright and released his weapon.
Aris stepped through and though he was not as tall or muscular as some, his sun-dried skin and well-defined muscles made for a striking silhouette. He nodded his head towards the tent’s entrance and the watchman on duty nodded then left without hesitation. When the flap closed again, Aris stepped forth towards the cage and drew his dagger. He cut the bonds that held the front together and allowed the gate to fall to the floor. Stepping back, he eyed the girl inside. Without giving her a chance to move or speak he began his prepared speech.
“You are a thief and as such, your life means very little. It has been impressed upon me that you could be of use in a convoy that I am leading.” Dangerous. Unknown enemy. Aris walked over to the chest and kicked it open. He stooped down and took her weapons and pack sorting through them quickly. His eyes seemed to watch her constantly. When he was finished, he dropped everything but her blades and the quiver of arrows. “Some want to see you put to death for your crimes. One of my men thinks you are worth saving. He says you have honor but that it’s been lost.” He waited a moment and peered directly into her eyes. Choose life. Help. Another pause soaked up a few ticks of silence before he continued. “Or stay here and learn what it feels like to be the earth beneath a strider.”
+ + + + +
The Team :
6th Bell
By the time the volunteers had gathered everything they require, Syna would be above the horizon. There was a small woman with dark hair nestled into braids standing alongside the woman who’d been escorted into town by the Underwatch. They were flanked by two young men that held the bearings of great warriors. On the left was a man of mocha skin with light eyes and a few scars. He had broad shoulders, big hands and muscles that seemed to dance in the light of early morning. His barrel chest was crossed by a weapon’s harness that was intricately made but well-used. He had a bright smile and couldn’t help but show it when the rest of the party began to arrive. On the other side was a man who was taller but had a slighter build. His muscles were long and graceful like those of a lion. He had lighter skin but deep, dark eyes that matched his scruff and dark hair. He wore an axe on each hip and had a look of mischief that promised fun and excitement. His smile was charming but he gave off an aura like the aroma of a strong drink that was absolutely as enticing as it was dangerous.
There was a man and woman a bit removed from the group. She was dark hair with green eyes and seemed to be unarmed. Some might recognize her while others might not. The man beside her seemed cold and hard as a glassbeak’s horn. The light eyes acknowledged each new arrival but always went back to the woman in his charge. Talking was discouraged with simple hand signals by the woman with dark braids. She was obviously in charge and did not wish to speak until the entire party was assembled.
Once everyone had gathered, the woman motioned for each to come in a bit closer. “I am Helena Swiftrun, Rayvekh of the Watch. You are all here for the same reason.” Help. Investigate. Helena motioned towards the Chaktawe woman next to her. “This is Evain. She doesn't speak Pavi but does understand some Common.” The watch officer placed a hand on the smaller woman’s shoulder reassuringly. “She escaped a slave camp in the Sea of Grass and wound up in the tunnels where the Underwatch rescued her.” Brave woman. Scared. Helena motioned to Aris who steped forward as he placed a firm grip on the prisoner’s elbow. “Aris Riverwatcher is my Tavehk and will be your expedition’s captain.” She motioned for him to take over.
Aris looked around meeting the gaze of every person in the circle before beginning his speech. “We’re going to travel back to where Evain was being held. If what she said is true, the safety of our people might be at stake. If anyone has second thoughts, now is the time to leave.” Again, his crystal blue eyes danced from one member to the next looking for doubts and fears. He had no stomach for games but could understand one without martial training to realize a bad situation and walk away. Aris motioned towards the two pillars of men in the group. “These are two of my best watchmen, Sparrow and Taggert.” Brave. Trustworthy. Strong. Each man stepped forward and made some kind of wave or acknowledgement. Sparrow’s was just a wave and a polite smile. Taggert’s was a heavily laced grin of seduction and a twinkling glimmer in his gaze. Aris shook his head. “Leave your striders with your escorts. Where we’re going, we won’t need them.” He nodded to his superior and turned to leave bu Helena spoke up once more.
“Before you depart, Evain brought something to share and it’s important you all read it.” Aris rolled his eyes. He had argued about this letter and its relevance to their goals. The letter was produced by the small woman with black eyes and handed to the closest volunteer. Each was given a chance to read it before it made its way back to the runaway slave. The letter is old and some of the words are faded. The parchment was obviously buried somewhere but has been painstakingly cleaned and preserved. The look in the Chaktawe’s eyes would incline one to believe it was her diligence that preserved the evidence. "It's in Common so if you can't read it, just pass it along."
Secret :
Aris was glad show and tell was over. He turned and started walking north leading the young brunette in front of him. The two watchmen used encouraging gestures for the rest to follow and then fell into step behind the troop. Helena watched them until they became small and then headed back to the Diamond spoke and continue to handle the duties of her position.
+ + + + +
8th Bell
The processional had been quick, forced and silent. None of the men spoke but this was probably due to the sour mood of the man in front. Aris seemed out of sorts without his strider and it was showing. He fielded no questions and shot dirty looks or demeaning signs whenever one of his men tried to converse. Suddenly, a pale figure emerged from the grass. The man was hard to see at first because of Syna’s position in the sky. As the group drew nearer, strange markings and scars adorned the man’s face and head. He was…different.
Secret :
Aris exchanged a few signs and followed the odd-looking fellow. The brand on the back of his right hand was an arch signifying his place in the Underwatch. His skin was pale, his eyes bleached but his body appeared to be made of stone. The muscles and bones seemed chiseled with a master’s skill. His form was a testament of the harsh reality that exists within the tunnels. Certainly this man had stories to tell but he did not even look at anyone other than Aris. Sparrow and Taggert herded the party along until they came to a small ring of rocks in the ground. It looked like a well but was no higher than a foot or so above the dirt and only about four feet across. The tunnel guide walked up and dropped into the blackness without a moment’s hesitation. Aris stood there a moment and then shoved his captive into the hole and jumped in after her. The girl with black eyes went next, a small squeal trailing behind her. The rest were left to follow.
The well was a slide or chute formation that would catch the backside of each visitor and send them down quickly and then spit them out after a few chimes’ ride onto a bed of furs and grass-stuffed bags. The walls were lined with sporadic torches and it would take a few chimes for the eyes to adjust. There was an eerie drip that echoed from somewhere deep witin the catacombs. Talk and pleasantries were not allowed. The scarred man took a count and when all were accounted for, he marched off down the tunnel ahead of them.