Forwards and onwards the group slowly marched, making one gruesome discovery after another along the road. Bodies littered the ground while wagons and other constructs of Alerarian design were left to the wayside, crushed and broken. Signs of struggle suggested that these people had been caught unawares by the sudden and swift change that had overtaken these lands. Umbra noted one particularly grim scene where the arm of a dark elf had reached out for salvation from under the wreckage of a wagon that had been overturned. Any hope for succor had long since waned and the arm had remained motionless ever since.
Many amongst the group felt righteous indignation and swore vengeance upon the demon horde that had swept across these lands, while others quietly sulked with solemn prayers for protection. Umbra did neither of these things. They felt hardly anything about it at all; there was no smoldering anger for the lives lost, nor sorrow for the ones that would not see the light upon the morrow. There was just a silent indifference and a grudging acceptance.
Umbra had learned a lesson in ages past; to be indifferent to such sights, to be unmoved by senseless slaughter and to be fearless of the fleeting grip of death. Or, so they silently told themselves. All the while, Umbra’s hand gripped the weathered hilt of their sword even tighter with a strengthening urge to crush and maim. Their eyes lingered, before tearing themselves away from the mangled remains and refocusing their attention back along the winding road along the hellish landscape of Alerar.
Just like the Aegis cliffs that had nearly ended their journey early, more jagged spires of rock lay across the land in clusters of untraversable peaks and spines. Early explorers must have once thought that the edge of the world lay just beyond this expanse of land that they had called the dragon's teeth.
One of their group whispered stories that once told that the land itself was actually that of an ancient Wyrm. One day, it would snap it’s maw shut, devouring all within before ripping itself from the land that had formed over it while it slumbered.
‘It certainly feels like we're entering the mouth of a beast.’ Umbra lamented, thankful that the superstition of those early explorers had given way to those more industrious; those who sought out the precious minerals that lay far below their feet. Without them, there would not have been a paved road that made these jagged peaks far more hospitable and traversable.
‘That still does not mean that we are welcome.’ The mercenary thought while casting their attention upwards.
The black clouds overhead coiled and rumbled in displeasure as an acrid wind blew through the spines. This created a haunting melody that resonated with the unearthly howls of unimaginable beasts lurking up ahead. Indeed, the very land itself felt as though it had turned its gaze upon the small group that descended the winding roads and bid them unwelcome.
Almost as unwelcome as the dignitary that clung to their side for protection. Although Troy’s face was one of steel, the fearful glint in his eyes as they turned to track every noise in the distance gave away his emotional state each and every time. Umbra did not care for the man, not one whit. They had known many men like this one, and each and every single one of them had been the architect of their own downfall.
“Remember your contract Umbra. You are to be our eyes and ears. And our sword if needs be,” Troy stated between his gritted teeth. His eyes bore hatred at Shinsou, who walked just up ahead as the leader of the party. Umbra gave a noncommittal grunt of acknowledgement as they thought of that baleful contract. The situation had changed and yet even with their only retreat now in splinters, Troy was all too eager to give Umbra the order to stab the Telgradian in the back at the earliest opportunity.
If he didn’t go and get himself and everyone else killed first.
“You forget yourself! I know exactly who and what you are!” He quietly seethed between his clenched teeth, hissing under the blatant dismissal
The offhand comment all but demanded Umbra’s full attention as the faceless helmet turned to look directly at the dignitary. They stared very carefully at the man before them, gauging if he was bluffing or not. With a curious tilt of the iron helm did Umbra consider the point moot.
“Good for you.” The mercenary said slowly with a distorted metallic voice. “I hope you're able to sleep better because of it.” The mercenary muttered quietly before dismissing the man and his claim once again without a second thought.
‘He’s just bluffing, and even if he wasn’t...’ Umbra calmly reasoned. He considered that if Troy did actually know who and what Umbra was, then that would likely warrant an investigation. That was something Troy really didn’t want to happen.
As the group crested a small hill that took them under one of the land's jagged spines, ‘Sanctuary’ was visible just a small trek up ahead. Both figuratively and literally in this hell hole, Sanctuary was an Alerarian fortress in an otherwise inhospitable land. It was encircled by a ribbed steel battlement, covered in large misshapen pipes that flowed along it’s walls before reaching out towards the rocky spires that surrounded it.
The keep itself dominated the center of the landscape. It was a man made monstrosity, with sloped curved walls atop one another in clear cut layers that were separated by dull metal ramparts and windows that cast a warm cozy light in this barren landscape. Lightning crackled as it cut a crooked ark through the air and struck one of the keeps’ spires that served as a lightning rod.
Machinery whirred to life as the main gate creaked and groaned, opening as they approached. Armored dark elven soldiers poured out of the gates to greet them with sharpened blades.
“Hold yer horses ya damn dim witted pointy eared elvish sons of a bloated whore!” Eloquently cursed a middle aged dwarf as he roughly pushed past the dark elven soldiers that stood at the rear. The dwarf took a long drag of his cigar as his eyes swept over the group before them, lingering curiously on Shinsou and passing by Celandine completely to take stock of Troy.
“I’m guessing you'd be the diplomat sent from Corone?” He asked curiously as he exhaled a pungent cloud of smoke from between his lips. “We’d figured you would all be dead by now, considering the last report we had was that Antega was under siege. Heh, you’d forgive us for not rolling out the red carpet, things have not been going well as you can surely guess by now.”
“And the armed welcome?” Umbra spoke up, causing the dwarf to turn their way with an appraising eye that lingered over their iron armor. “Yeah, see, you ain’t the first to turn up looking to get in. Had some trouble with a few nasty demons that could change shape.”
“Be that as it may, we are here now.” Troy smugly replied as he stepped forwards while pushing back the hood of his cloak. “By some miracle at the very least.” he uttered under his breath.
“I am Troy Ashton, acting as the rep-” Troy was suddenly cut off as the young faun indignantly pushed past Troy with a huff and stood fearlessly before the dwarf, who gave her a curious look.
“As the acting representative of the Radasanth delegation, and witness to the horrors of what these demons are capable of, I'm eager to start talks as soon as possible.” Celandine spoke eloquently as she came to the fore. Her voice bore no hesitance, as though she had been doing this for years.
The dwarf looked at her curiously," The name’s Sabal” he introduced himself after a moment’s pause. “Being a faun, you wouldn’t happen to be the Philomel would you?” The dwarf asked with a hopeful tone.
“I am Celandine Van der Aart, sir. Philomel is my mother.” The girl politely answered after a moment of hesitation.
Troy seethed as he looked down upon the faun with hatred. He moved only slightly to reach forward and pull the young girl back behind him, but hesitated when he caught sight of Shinsou’s glare. It was a clear, silent warning; that if he did anything to the girl, there would be hell to pay. Umbra’s gave their own dismissive shrug and left the delegation member to silently stew all by himself.
Umbra would have been honest to say that they thought that Celandine was still too young to be here, acting as a diplomat of all things. Even without Troy’s off hand comment (that the girl was supposedly even younger than she physically looked), it did little to ease those doubts. But Umbra still preferred Celandine acting as their diplomat over the bumbling antics of Troy any day of the week.
The Dehlar plate clad dwarf stroked his long black beard thoughtfully while taking another drag on his cigar. “Too bad, I was kinda hoping that someone of her renown would be here. No offense.” The dwarf grumbled with a heavy frown.
“While I ain’t no diplomat like yerself, i’m just an advisor on the account that I helped find the bloody damn gate in the first place!” He lamented with an almost regretful tone. “Ah, but this ain’t no place to harangue a guest. Come in. We will talk more where it’s nice, warm and safe,” he said with a toothy grin and flashed a dirty look back to the dark elven guards
“Now, if only they could learn the same manners as you,” he said to Celandine with an amused twinkle in his dark eyes, before ushering the group within the ‘Sanctuary.’ No doubt they would find a warm bed along with food and water to sate their hunger and quench their thirst.
The large mechanical gate began to shut, groaning and protesting as massive gears span like complex clockwork from somewhere within the metal fortress’ walls. Umbra paused only long enough to look back as rocks began to tumble down along a steep cliff. Though Umbra was quick to trace the source of the falling stones, they were not able to ascertain who or what had disturbed the rocks in the first place.
