by The Kingpin » Mon Aug 07, 2017 11:55 pm
Far from the rocky plains and busy streets of the City of Friends, Crestvale loomed over the still dark waters of the Jade Sea. Two veterans of the Eternal War stood at the top of the seventh of fourteen flights of cliffside steps leading up to the Royal Palace, looking out over the city walls and towards the sea that separated them from their home. Construction was still in full force, several towers having risen out of the water since they had arrived. The harbour, thanks to some incredible efforts by the Valenhadians, the Hueilin, and the modest Tyrbenetan workforce, was now almost completely repaired. The crew of the Equinox, now in more familiar territory than they had been when conducting ship repairs, were quick to show their Asterian peers all the ways they could streamline and accelerate their repairs, and how best to make the most of their resources, having uncountable millennia of building heritage behind their own techniques.
It was something Sanguine felt especially proud of, as it had changed the perceptions the locals had of him and his men drastically. It had gained him the respect he needed to establish a more concrete chapter for the Justicars in the city, based in the industrial district where resources were easily accessible. The Justicars, still trying to get on their feet for now, had taken on jobs as dockhands, builders and blacksmiths, doing all they could to make some gold and endear themselves to the locals.
It was during this time of collaboration and development that Sanguine learned of the impact Arashi had had on this place. It seemed that at the mere mention of his moniker, everyone had something to say about the Stormweaver. It was with surprising reverence that many of the Valenhadian's recalled the fairytales that seemed to float around the Experimentalist, perhaps brought on by the discovery that this being of myth was in fact a real being. And those who revered him most carried him with the same sort of esteem that the Justicar's held Desrium.
"I never thought he would be so successful," mused Sanguine.
"Hm?" asked Ghul, his back to the cliffside as he sat atop the wall paving the flights of stairs they had ascended to get this view.
"Arashi. When he came to us he was so young, so wide eyed and inexperienced. To think he could have become something so renowned never crossed my mind," clarified the djinn Lord.
"I don't know if I would call it that. There were as many who disliked him as there were who revered him," noted Ghul.
"No doubt," agreed the taller djinn. "But even those who dislike him respect him. The Hueilin in this place recognise his power, despite the fact he has hurt them."
"Perhaps," conceded the armoured Justicar.
"And that's to say nothing of Mercutio. He is to them what Desrium was for the Order."
"I don't think we ever worshipped Desrium as a deity. It would not do for a servant of the Dawnmother to be deified in such a manner," stated Ghul gravely.
"You know Arashi better than that, Ghul. He is many things, but drunk off his own power is not one of them. I doubt he would be so arrogant as to condone this behaviour." The elder djinn's expression was firm, and perhaps ever so slightly surprised at Ghul's lack of faith.
"I pray for his sake that you are right."
"We will look into it in time. But before that, we have a more pressing matter to attend to." There was a shift in the older djinn's demeanour, giving away the fact he didn't want to linger on the previous topic of their conversation.
"Oh?" asked Ghul, taken by surprise and showing more than a bit of rekindled interest in their conversation.
"Desrium has established a 'city of friends' South of us. It is about time we re-established a connection with him."
"He has been busy," responded the armour-clad djinn, intrigued. "What do you know of this place?"
"Let's head towards our lodging. I'll tell you along the way," concluded Sanguine as he leapt off the wall, Ghul following with a hefty thud.
"The city is protected, and its missions around their lands and beyond carried out, by wanderers," he elaborated once they had descended the last flight of stairs, the taller djinn covering ground with surprising haste. It was something that Ghul had grown used to acclimating to over the ages, even when his proportions tended to make it difficult. "They're peacekeepers. They roam the continent helping others at Desrium's behest. And in exchange, these soldiers earn a sum for their trouble."
"So it's a city of mercenaries. I do not see what is special about it," said Ghul bluntly.
Sanguine shook his head, sipping some water from his skin as he walked through the cobblestone streets of the recovering capital city. The clatter of construction and the echoing calls of men nd women of various races directing one another in their duties did much to mask the two djinn's conversation from prying ears. "Not just mercenaries. These are people who wish to do good for others, and are rewarded for it with coin as an incentive."
"Motives are easy things to falsify. I could claim all day that I walk the streets to make the ground flatter so that carriages can move through them smoothly. That doesn't make it true," argued the armoured djinn as he looked up at his taller companion.
"Perhaps," conceded the elder djinn. He took note of the markedly pessimistic attitude Ghul had to the concept. Coming face to face with the reality of the races of Aster had done much to dull his enthusiasm. People here were greedy and selfish, unlike those in Tyrbenetus.
"But from what I was told, this city was cobbled together from remnants of a collapsed kingdom. A ruined nation tearing itself apart. Wealth would be scarce. A city like this likely did not have much of it to speak of when Desrium arrived. How do you think Desrium managed to motivate them to do what they are doing in the first place?" asked Sanguine, trying to lighten the armoured djinn's mood.
There was silence beneath the cowl of the djinn battlemaster for a few moments as he mulled the question over. Eyes narrowing, he gave his reply. "I think the more important question is, how does he keep paying them? If it is a city with a legion of mercenaries hungry for gold, he must have the wealth to afford them. Where is this wealth coming from? Who pays to pay these people?"
"All the more reason to believe that money may not be the only motivation," argued Sanguine as he ducked under a sign along the road; a blacksmith that was hammering away loudly on what appeared to be a steel half-circle, the purpose of which he was unfamiliar with. "Many of these people may well be former soldiers from the collapsed kingdom; people who want to see their homeland strong and safe again and end the chaos that's undoubtedly plagued them. To give their children a safer future, to bring the rule of law back to a lawless land. To drive out the things that want to destroy them. It was enough to bring all of Tyrbenetus together once upon a time."
"I wouldn't be so hasty to compare them to us, Sanguine," warned Ghul firmly. "We were a special case. We were forced to pull together to survive. We had nowhere to go. If we hadn't banded together, we would have been wiped out. These people have other options. Other kingdoms to move to, other lands to cultivate."
"Then perhaps they are better than we are, Ghul, to prevent darkness from claiming land that they may not strictly need." Sanguine stopped, turning to face the shorter, stockier djinn, raising his head slightly to lift the oppressive shadow of his hat-helm and reveal his face, showing a concerned expression.
Ghul stared back, his gaze as harsh and unwavering as his intimidating physique. "They're selfish. They want the wealth of their land. The crops it can yield, the treasures it may conceal. It is a place where any man with a small band of soldiers at his back can crown himself a lordling over the less fortunate."
"Are you suggesting that Desrium may have lost his path? Been claimed by greed? The Dawnmother's Chosen himself?" asked Sanguine, taken by surprise.
"I am saying," started Ghul, noting the reaction his friend and leader had to his statement, "...that we shouldn't have unwavering faith in him simply because he shared a battlefield with us. He is my student, and I am proud of his strength. But demons are the very embodiments of corruption. We do not know what may have happened to him in the fight with Xrtlyxx. We must not drop our guard or forsake our vigilance simply because he was the Champion."
"Perhaps. But what you suggest is not vigilance; it's outright prosecution. You speak as though you have already decided that no other case may exist. These are not demons, Ghul. We are not in Tyrbenetus, and we are not at war. It would be unfair to condemn him, or those that stand at his side, to the worst possible assumption without first seeing things for ourselves. If you are right, we will bring the Dawnmother's light to their lands and purge them of the poison plaguing them. But until we know more, we must take the path of impartiality. Balance in all things."
Ghul said nothing, lowering his head with a grunt that was neither dismissive nor acknowledging. "When do you intend to make way?" he asked, shifting the path of the conversation away from this particularly heated thread.
"Tonight. Midnight," responded Sanguine. "Travel provisions are already being put together. The Crestvale chapter is established well enough that they can operate without our supervision."
Another grunt. It seemed that the Battlemaster had lost interest in pressing the issue any further. It was something that worried the djinn Lord.
"Ah yes, organised chaos. the sign of a clever but ever-busy mind. To the perpetrator, a carefully woven web of belongings and intrigue, but to the bystander? Madness!"
–William Beckett, Lore of Leyuna RPG