The Frigid Heart

[Tobias Stalt]

Closed to Otto

Slowly churned the sea of clouds as the bow of "Axios" dipped and dove into it. A washing of white wafted over Tobias' wide grin as he held his breath, anxiously anticipating the legendary city of heroes. The Alerian host boasted a friendly presence in Radasanth, allied tenuously with the people of Corone by virtue of the legend of its sworn defender, Sei Orlogue. Their interests in the region were mostly cosmetic, though Tobias knew the raspy bonds of heroic idolatry were fast ripping apart behind the scenes. Dark Elves had a love for the Ixian Knight they would likely never have for Tobias, but the race was one of practical creatures. A legend could not satiate the needs of Alerar forever.

Stained a brilliant orange, the skyline beneath the clouds was crowded with a cityscape that contrasted everything about Ettermire. Where impurities littered the capital of his patron land, Tobias found a comfort in the familiarity that Radasanth offered. Less impressive by far in technology, Corone almost reminded Tobias of home.

Impatiently he rapped his fingers against the railing, and he breathed in the fresh air. "Are they outfitted to accommodate the Axios?" Tobias was hammered by the sudden realization that this civilization lacked the subtleties of the Elves, and their facilities came up short with regard to large, airborne vessels.

"Aye, sir," the Boatswain called above the lurching groan of the mighty machine. "The harbor of Radasanth suffices for Her berth."

"Harbor?" Tobias mouthed skeptically. Were airships capable of sea travel? It made sense that a ship that sailed the air might have overseas capabilities, but the soldier had never considered it. Nevertheless, Tobias adjusted the collar of his uniform and turned to face the other man. "What are the conditions we should expect upon landfall?"

"Radasanth is in the throes of her winter, Captain Stalt." Captain felt unfamiliar and harsh to his ears, but Tobias merely shifted in discomfort. "While it is not as cold as Salvar, Corone is still quite capable of freezing temperatures. Check the air before you disembark." With a salute, the Boatswain dismissed himself. A heavy sigh broke from his lips, and Tobias found himself staring at a large statue fashioned in the image of heroic, muscular man.

Tobias recoiled at the all too familiar sensation of snow as it touched the bridge of his nose. "Devil's hoary tits," the soldier cursed. A shiver crept through the youth. Glancing up at the graying white ceiling of clouds, he sucked a breath in through his clenched teeth. "I'll be needing a scarf for this," Tobias muttered.

Winter's breath washed over him, and the soldier jolted. "Steady as she goes, Cap'n," came the mocking and sultry voice of Camille. Tobias winced. "You'd think a thief from Salvar would have more piss in his blood than to jump at a bit of winter weather."

"I wasn't born in Salvar," Tobias corrected.

"Still," Camille crossed her arms and continued, "have a bit more composure. The city watch will decide what to make of you within a few seconds, and I'd rather have something good to put in my report."

"Are you keeping tabs on me?" He asked in disbelief, turning a skeptical gaze on the woman.

"As if I've ever stopped," Camille brushed off the look. "Remember why we're here, Tobias. You're to evaluate the worth of continued Alerian support in the region. If that's to happen, you're going to need to function in a low profile capacity while maintaining the guise of military officer."

Tobias narrowed his eyes. Camille still talked as though she were his superior, though his rank had been elevated above her own. "There are many games being played here," he muttered, "and I'm tired of playing pawn." Reaching into his chest pocket, Tobi unfolded a ruined letter for the billionth time.

"The Orders were clear, Stalt. This contract was specifically relegated to you. When the Guilds unanimously make a decision like this, you follow orders or get the hell out of the way." Tobias scowled. Nothing seemed right about the command he had been given. "The General believes you have the perfect skills for arbitrating between these two nations. It's a very high compliment."

Tobias waved Camille away. "I'm very flattered and all that. Did they tell you to suck my cock, too, and make all of this go smoothly?" The woman turned ten sheds of red, and for once Tobias was genuinely unsure whether she was embarrassed or cross with him. As she stormed away, he directed his attention to the growing port beneath them.

When the skimmed the water's surface, Tobias barely felt the resistance he had expected. The water parted beneath "Axios'" hull, the hissing of displaced liquid only half as loud as the ship's engine. Wide eyed children stood upon the dock, carefully guarded by overly cautious mothers. Tobias waved a hand in greeting, offering his kindest smile.

Radasanth was a city several hundred years too late for the glory it claimed. His immediate reaction to the impoverished spectators was one of amusement, but Tobias quashed his desire to laugh and glanced sidelong at the Boatswain. "They're paupers," he snorted through a stowed chuckle. "It's a bloody slum."

The other man scowled. "Parts of the city are run down," he replied, "and have seen much less restoration and funding than the Ixians would have liked." Clapping Tobias on the shoulder, the Boatswain added in a quieter voice. "Try to have some decorum. These children might never see an airship again in their lives."

Tobias blinked. "I'll take it into consideration," he replied sternly, and Tobias shrugged the other man's hand away. The thought that an order of knights with the reputation of the Ixians had allowed such conditions to perpetuate under their protection disturbed the newly ranking captain. "If this sort of fate is allowed to befall the citizenry of the world's most renown city, I wonder what other negligence these bastards are guilty of."

The shudder of "Axios" as her boarding ramp descended rocked Tobias. Taking his first steps into Radasanth, the Soldier smiled. "I have to admit, she's quite a beautiful place," he allowed as the children rushed forward to barrage him with warm embraces. Steam billowed from his lips as he let out a loud "oof," and Tobias held his hands above the urchins with due uncertainty. He glanced to the gaggle of mother hens with the best smile he could manage, and the women giggled in response.

One of the young boys grabbed at his sword, and Tobias shooed the prying hand away. "Now, now," he chided, "that's Dwarven steel, son." He patted the youth on the head, though the boy still seemed displeased. "Your mum would have me hide if I let you play with it, right?" The boy nodded begrudgingly, and he sulked back to the group of watching mothers.

Tobias looked about silently, as though he were interested in his surroundings. Dark, rustic buildings piled close together formed the neighborhood adjacent to the dock. His orders had said he would be greeted by the city watch upon arrival, but thus far Tobias had seen only the children and the women.

Wintery white covered the cobbled streets that stretched out before him, and Tobi reached up to scratch his nose. "Do you children like the snow?" He asked, only half interested in the question himself. A chorus of "yeah" and "yes" rang out in response, and the children dispersed toward the powder as their interests were drawn away from the newcomer. One young girl remained, and Tobias tilted his head down to glance at her.

"Hey mister," she smiled up at him. "Do you wanna build a snowman?"

Tobias' lips twisted up in a smirk, and he knelt down to give her eye contact. Strawberry blonde locks and a pair of blue eyes met the soldier, and he ruffled the child's hair. "I tell you what," he said, "as soon as I've finished sorting out the business of lodgings, I would love to build a snowman with you. If," he said, glancing up toward the mother that had migrated toward them, "this lovely lady finds that agreeable?"

The heavy set woman who seemed infectiously happy responded with a broad smile. "You're too kind, m'lord. If you do come back, you're welcome to build a snowman with little Lora. If you're too busy, she'll understand."

Tobias remembered a time when his father had been too busy to play, and he frowned for a moment. "I'll return, Lora," he met her gaze again, and the little girl cheered with joy. Tobias blinked as she planted a wet kiss on his cheek, then glanced back over his shoulder to where Camille stood at the edge of the dock. He gave the woman a look that said 'don't say a word,' but Camille only smirked triumphantly in response.

Radasanth had the makings of his most interesting stationing yet, and he had only just arrived. Rising from his knee, Tobias surveyed the area once more. "Ma'am," he addressed the mother of his new friend, "could you direct me to the nearest branch of the city watch?"

The woman blinked in response. "Why, they're just down the way," she pointed in the direction. "I can't believe they weren't here to welcome you, if you were expecting them. They're usually quite cordial."

"Busy, I suspect," Tobias smiled. "Thank you, ma'am. That will be all. And Lora, I will see you later on."

The little girl waved enthusiastically. Tobias laughed to himself as he started in the indicated direction. "Already charming the women of Radasanth, I see," Camille jeered. She thought she heard something stifled come from Tobias, but she was unsure. The obscene gesture he followed up with made it abundantly clear, and Camille burst out in a fit of laughter.

[Otto]

One hour earlier

Tall, pristine houses loomed above the well-swept street. Even if the snow hadn't been cleared, the five guardsmen below would have known that the flagstones were void of even a single dead rat or horse turd. The soldiers were all from parts of the city where the roads were healthily laminated with compacted shit, and this junction's sparkling austerity had already begun to put their teeth on edge. Their jurisdiction didn't stretch to the rich and connected, and they certainly didn't belong here. But they'd heard the call.

They heard it again, over the meticulously-maintained tiled roofs: the shrill cry of a whistle in the distance. All Officers Respond.

William sprung forward and down one arm of the branching street. "It was this way!" he yelled back, but the others were already hot on his heels and pounding down the pavement.

Fadime soon pulled out in front, her bald head melting the snowflakes as the two met. "The street's curving away," she said, with a finger pointed at the row of houses for effect. "We're going to emerge behind them."

"Laneway!" panted Carrin, who suddenly split away from the group. There was indeed a thin alley behind the buildings, an opening to one of the ever-present gongman's routes. Assuming they didn't hit any dead-ends, it looked like it would lead them in the direction the whistles of pursuit were heading. Otto watched them all charge out in front, the plodding footfalls of his own lumbering frame at distinct odds to the light pattering which belonged to his comrades.

The alley was much more cramped, and drab. The well-to-do owners of these houses obviously hadn't considered the night soil carters to be worth impressing, as attested to by bare brickwork, rust-stains from gutter pipes, and a decrease in general sanitation. The formerly airy-looking structures now had a crushing feel to them, as they clustered together and squeezed out the sky. The urban crevasse funneled the sprinting guards together so that they ran two abreast through the thickening murk.

Otto, already some way behind the others and starting to wheeze, paused. His nostrils flared, his breathing turned to short staccato sniffs, and he turned his head towards the breeze. The alleyway was bad enough for his colleagues, what with its restricted airflow and accumulated refuse, but to Otto, the stench made each inhalation taste as though he were kissing a midden - and that it was kissing back. Nonetheless... something caused him to stop and focus on the air.

Jasmine?

It was a sweet aroma, strangely out of place here. Otto wasn't aware of anyone who scented the contents of their chamber pots, but maybe the upper crust did things differently.

A whistle blew again, this time framed against a heavy chorus of jingling mail and thudding boots. Otto's squad skidded to a halt, mildly confused.

"They're getting closer..." murmured Carrin.

They squared themselves in anticipation of whatever miscreants the approaching watchmen were herding their way. Weapons were drawn, bucklers readied, but as soon as a host of crimson tabard-clad figures came into sight around the corner, it was clear that there was nobody to apprehend. As one, the two parties raised their eyebrows and swung their heads to look around the crowded alley for that which clearly wasn't there. All except for Otto, that is, who had begun to sniff his way slowly along the rear walls of the properties. A captain stepped forward from the larger group, and advanced on the squad.

He recognised their salutes with one of his own. "Have you seen anything, corporal?" he asked of William.

"Nossir," replied the man. "We headed into the alley from Calder Parade. No sign of anyone on the way, and no branches, either."

"Damnit! He must have jumped a wall," exclaimed the captain. The man's subordinate eyed the looming brick barriers doubtfully; probably the only things that could make it over were the sort that possessed wings, or failing that, a ten foot transportable ladder. "Spread out, and look for, for, footprints, or something - "

Otto twirled around, a heavy padlock in his hand. "Sir! Someone's busted the lock on this door."

"What are you waiting for? Break it down!" roared the captain.

Otto hesitated. "Er, I could just - "

"Just do it, man!"

The orc jumped to attention, ripped off a smart salute, and barked a loud "Yes, sir!", before turning back to the door. It only swung out into the alley, and lacked a handle on this side, so he thrust his fingers into the jamb and pulled it open.

Otto turned back to the captain and performed another impeccable salute. "Sah! Door bashed in, sah!"

The chuckling behind the officer died out under his withering gaze. "You lot!" he roared at them. "Get moving!"

The red patrol charged onwards.



* * *



Half an hour after that

William was inching closer to the hibiscus. Otto could tell; the man looked as alert as a guardsman should, but it was the other soldiers in the garden who he was watching our for. Every time William judged that they weren't being observed, he sidestepped a little bit, or made a show of stretching his legs, and - entirely by accident, his posture seemed to say - ended up just a little bit closer to the tree.

Otto prodded him with the tip of his pilus. "Don't even think about it," he muttered.

The fellow puckered his lips in response. "Don't tell me you don't want a souvenir?" he said, then grinned and went on, "Anyway, I know someone who might appreciate it."

The flowers were large, rumpled, and brilliantly pink. Otto took a closer look, and decided that the gardeners were probably paid quite highly here. Everywhere outside the estate, trees were bare-branched and the ground cover had disappeared below a blanket of white, but not so here. The plants' leaves were full and fresh, their blooms rich out of season, and the entire place had only the lightest dusting of snow. Come to think of it, there was probably a bit more going on here than some skilful gardening.

"Difficult to hide," he said at last. "Anyway, they wilt too quickly to keep."

Otto was glad he knew this, because otherwise he might have been tempted to entertain the same thought as William. As it was, he had his eye on the bed of little everlastings to his right, or even one of the worn obsidian pebbles from the ornamental pond. They were about just the right size to set in a pommel, maybe for a dirk or dagger.

No doubt Emien Harthowrth's garden would be a good deal emptier after today. One would think the Master General had enough sense not to let in such shameless petty criminals as the city watch. The man clearly needed to get out more.

He didn't know how much longer they would be here. What would it take to satisfy Lord Harthworth that there wasn't any trace or clue left behind by the intruder? One of the man's servants had seen a figure climb down into the gardenias - which explained the smell Otto had noticed in the alley - from the massive wall which encircled the estate. This servant had alerted Harthworth's private guards, who had in turn summoned every watchman in range of hearing to then chase the trespasser through the myriad streets of Radasanth. Cue Otto's squad getting in on the action, the fleeting image of a vague figure darting through a garden (not this one, of course), and the eventual end of the pursuit as the trail went cold. And so they had been ordered back here to the scene of the crime, though not to investigate; that was being done by Harthworth's finest and most trusted. Presumably, the brass thought additional guards standing around would ward off further trespassers, just in case the fad caught on.

Otto looked at the pond again. The pebbles were a lovely, near-purple sort of black, polished smooth by trickling water. He shuffled closer.

"Psst! Otto!" William hissed. The orc instantly went lightning-rod straight.

Two soldiers came into view around the cypress trees. Otto recognised one - it was Orlannes, a fellow smith and squadmate, who had been on forge duty at the time of their excursion. The other was one of Harthworth's blank-faced personal guards. The unknown man pointed in their direction and stalked off, leaving the blond elf to approach the duo by himself. He seemed just as awed and nervous as Otto and William had been when they first entered the property, his pace slow and cautious lest he somehow put a foot wrong by putting it in the petunias.

Orlannes finally drew up before them. He ran a hand through his hair, then spoke.

"Message from the lieutenant," he said. Otto and William shared a look. It said they knew what was coming, but Orlannes went on in any case. "She says, 'what the bloody hell is going on? You were supposed to be at the docks ten minutes ago'."

William shuffled his feet, his back now scraping the hibiscus tree. "We, er, tried to explain, but they weren't really taking 'no' for an answer."

"I think that's about to change," replied the elf. "The top brass are just now hearing that an Aleranian envoy has disembarked and entered the city - unsupervised, and without passing any checkpoints."

Otto and William shared another look, only this time, there was a definite expression of horror to them.

Orlannes smiled grimly. "How quickly do you think you two can make it to the docks?" he asked.

[Tobias Stalt]

Tobias was not altogether wrong in his original assessment; the area of Radasanth where they had landed was a veritable slum. Homes unworthy of the name littered both sides of the street, clattered together like piles of fetid garbage- discarded, unwanted, but they had to be put some place out of the way. Dirt covered children ran through snowy streets hurling balls of ice at one another, and the occasional cat screeched its discontent somewhere in the distance. Somehow, the emissary from Alerar doubted that this was at all where the leadership of Radasanth wanted them to dock.

"Easy there," Tobias half murmured to a child who whisked in front of him and almost took his feet out. A firm hand on the boy's shoulder won him a foul look and the boy slapped his hand away with a string of curses. Tobias wore his lack of amusement on his face. It was clear that the society in this area lacked any sense of propriety at all.

In the distance, the architecture of larger buildings was obscured by a haze of gray and white, and the wind howled as it buffeted him with even more flurries. "My luck," he spat, shielding his face with a hand, "just keeps getting better."

Tobias almost missed the metallic footsteps coming from his blind spot. "The Alerian representative, I presume?" The voice grated with a rigid overture, then smoothed into a harsh, hardened thing with authoritative notes. "We were expecting you from the Military Quarter."

The sound of a voice directed at him almost caused Tobias to jump out of his skin. "Fuck!" He exclaimed, turning to face the woman. Her hair was graying and would have looked motherly, but for her armor and the more manly features that she had adopted- no doubt purposefully- through the years. "Let a man know when you're sneaking up on him, eh?"

The middle aged woman lifted a brow, but said nothing of his antics. It was as though she was sizing him up from the first. "You are the Emissary designated by the Alerian Guilds, are you not?"

"Erm, well, yes," Tobias grumbled, scratching his head. He had hoped for someone a bit less... terse. "Tobias Stalt, Captain, Alerian Army." He composed himself quickly, even going as far as to offer his hand. The woman did not take it. Instead, she offered a rigid salute.

"Lieutenant Francine Orman, of the Radasanth City Watch." She introduced herself, but seemed only half interested. Instead, she glanced back over her shoulder as if looking for someone. "Blast, where are those two buffoons. They were supposed to be here half a bell ago."

Tobias blinked. Clearly, the woman was lacking in a punctuality of her own, which on second thought, was unsurprising when he considered what he had seen of Radasanth so far. "Is all of your city so..." he paused, considering his words carefully. "Colorful?"

"When you dock in the Poor Man's Wharf, you ought to expect a less than regal welcome," Orman bit back. Tobias immediately knew he had deserved that, and bit his tongue. "Ah, here they come now..."

Tobias turned his gaze in the direction she was looking, and he tilted his head. Something seemed different, perhaps wrong, about the entire situation. Of course, this was not strictly any of his business- he had come here to discuss terms with the Regents of Radasanth, not to tackle its City Watch's issues. "This ought to be good," he muttered with a wry grin.

Orman shot him a baleful look.

[Otto]

Otto and William drew to a sharp halt in front of their lieutenant, and ripped off two very snappy salutes. They bore pretty stony expressions themselves; dour composure seemed a prerequisite for civil service in Radasanth. Orman returned the formality without a word, although an impatient gleam in her eye told the two guardsmen enough. Getting dressed down in front of foreign officials would be bad form, but this reprieve would only last until they were out of sight (and earshot). Otto and William took up position on either side of the Alerian sortie. Orman nodded apologetically at Tobias, as though she were sorry not to indulge him with a thorough chewing-out.

"This way," she instructed.

Orman set an ambitious pace for them to follow. She didn't wait up, but the two red-clad corporals shifted meaningfully behind Tobias and Camille. They started to follow the lieutenant's lead.

After a couple of minutes, Otto noticed that his CO was taking a bit of a detour. The quickest way to the government buildings would be to follow the main thoroughfare along the Poor Man's Wharf, up until Silver Way - a tributary to the Promenade Augusta. The Promenade was a grand old strip, wide and lined with imposing public works that was intended to show of Radasanth's splendor before it terminated at the Assembly forum. Instead, Orman was opting to strike for that noble road earlier than that, via a grimy, cart-clogged street that involved a modicum of backtracking. Well, the envoys had already had a good look at Radasanth's seedier side. The damage was already done.

"It looks like Radasanth is still feeling the effects of civil war," Tobias commented. The stony silence from their escort intensified, although Orman turned her head to reply.

"All wars take their toll. The city and surrounding land was never successfully invaded, but indirect effects are inevitable." She stepped around something in the road without looking. "Even so, the city functions."

"I thought the Ixians had more resources at their disposal," Tobias commenting.

Orman gave him a strange look. "Apparently not," she answered.

They passed a bawdy, cellar-level tavern. Dirty light blazed from its windows, while a slurring choir relished some particularly suggestive verse. Tall buildings loomed about them, not because the owners were rich, but so that landlords could cram more undersized apartments into a mean little patch of land. Horse dung littered the road; street sweepers cleared it when they felt inclined to, which apparently wasn't often. One fellow staggered out of the inn, found an antique pile of manure, vomited in it, and stumbled back towards the door. He tripped down the stairs, and there followed a resounding cheer from within.

Just like a good mother, Orman led her little ducklings on.

They turned a corner, and began to notice change. The buildings and flagstones were much better quality, if still grimy and uncared for. The houses were strong, dwarf-made white stone affairs, graced with elvish aesthetics. The flagstones were still even and mostly whole, despite the years since they were set down. They were in part of the old city: built with pride, and long before the teetering tenements and stricken streets grew up like mould. It was an indication of things to come.

"I believe," Orman informed the envoy, "that you will soon see the counterpoint to the Low Docks."

They actually had to ascend a short stone staircase at the intersection. The pale stones were worn smooth, and delicate ivy clambered over everything but the steps.

"Ecce - Via Augusta!"

"What, now?" Tobias asked, puzzledly. Orman scowled.

A deep voice grumbled discreetly behind him, "'Behold, the August Promenade.'" Tobias stole a glance in its direction. Was it a trick of the light, or did he see the bulkier of the two guardsmen flash him a wink?

The rest of them emerged onto a broad strip of cream-coloured flagstones, twenty feet from them to the median strip. Thin rows of witch hazel and jacaranda bisected the promenade, except for where the street bulged out around a towering monument or sparkling fountain. The road ran straight and flat enough to see where it terminated one end at a great stone archway, and at the imposing outer stairs of the forum at the other. The houses were all regal and spacious, and with boldly displayed gardens (behind strong iron fencing, of course). On this bitter day the streets were about as bare as the tree-branches, but the desolation only seemed to enhance the cold majesty of Radasanth's heart.

Orman let the newcomers take it in for a second, then started to jostle them along once more.