The Belthasar Chronicles. (Closed)

[Elthas_Belthasar]

(Closed to Fezzy & Leslot Note: This is an official Civil War story and I intend for this to make official canon once it's done.)
(Note: Finishing this as a Solo Quest.)
~Chapter I.

"Elthas Belthasar, come forth." The man said calmly.

Elthas nodded calmly and stepped forward to the gathered crowd. Times were tough in Radasanth, and there were still corrupt elements leading it. Leading the world proper to ruin, but Elthas honoured the old alliances. Elthas was a Hero at heart. He longed to help create a world where Heroes would thrive once more. And so, that why he went back to Radasanth in an effort to help change the world. But, the agents of the darkness were everywhere and many clung to the promises of The Empire. Elthas looked at the guard captain for a long moment. He was a shorter fellow, fully decked in studded armor. Elthas made direct eye contact with him and was unafraid. He trusted his own skill level. The daggers he kept at his side were the weapons he's used throughout most of his career as a Hero. He looked at the man before him for a long moment, behind Elthas was a small squadron of The Trading Company's most skilled workers. Elthas had done this on his own without Invetisto's input. Investisto was the leader of The Trading Company, Elthas was simply a high-ranking Officer. However, within the precepts of that...Elthas could do a LOT of shit. So he took a sizable portion of his own work force towards Radasanth. And to Radasanth they marched. Elthas was immediately surrounded by empirical officers. Things in Radasanth were worse than he had initially considered. Elthas walked towards the officer.

"Do not come any closer." The guard suddenly said and drew a standard issue weapon.

Elthas sighed. "I have to give you the work permit. Legally obtained, we are not here to interfere with your regime."

"Regime? The Empire is the only truth now." The man said carefully. "Show me your documentation and I'll consider granting you passage into Radasanth." The man said casually and relaxed his stance for only the briefest of moments.

Etlhas handed the small container with the scroll. It had official Trading Company markings, and a work permit. Elthas was attempting to reach out to the empirical forces as potential allies, and NOT enemies. He just wanted to secure peace with the general populace and help end the civil war in Radasanth. Elthas waited for the fellow to inspect his documentation.

"You're looking for work?" The man suddenly asked. "I'm not sure I understand, why did you come with such a big group?"

"The war creates opportunities for those willing to roll up their sleeves. I am an officer of The Trading Company and I am here offering material benefit to The Empire." Elthas shook his head. "Lot's of folk are displaced, needing homes and steady jobs. I'm here to help you guys rectify the problem."

"What do you intend to do?" The man suddenly physically relaxed. "Your documents check out."

"I intend to provide you with a suitable work force during these trying time." Elthas stood in a completely relaxed fashion. That day, he wore a business suit, tuxedo style cut in standard Radasanth style. His fedora was tipped at a slight forty-five degree angle. "In exchange, I'd like for your superiors to honour a standard Trading Company contract."

"No shit?" The fellow suddenly asked. He looked to one of his nearby soldiers. "Eric. We got incoming workers here, they here to see the local magistrate. Business deal."

"You got it boss." The man said.

Then, the leather-clad fellow turned towards Elthas. "If I catch wind of ANY bullshit concerning the Rangers and your lot, I will personally send your entire group to the gallows am I understood?"

"If I were ever to betray your lot, I would surrender anyway. My intention is to help the folk who are suffering and provide work." Elthas said. He knew the world was largely a chess game. With Althanas geo-politics, there were those who would conquer from the inside out. Elthas had an ulterior motive, but that would come later. The important element was securing the safety of the innocent worker in Radasanth proper. "There is an opportunity here for you gentlemen to win the hearts and minds of the people. The people are the life-blood of this Hero's Nation."

"Spoken true." The man said calmly. "Go see the magistrate and present your work permit to him as well. He will be the one to give you final say over your proposal."

***

The Magistrate sat in his office as he worked on this or that legal matter in Radasanth.

Elthas and his workers approached the building that contained his office, with purpose in their step. He looked at the office security guards and nodded towards them.

"State your purpose." The guard said.

"I have an appointment to speak to The Magistrate." Elthas responded. "This matters concerns the survival and safety of Radasanth and we WILL be heard."

"Show me your papers." The guard responded in a cold tone.

Elthas handed his documents to the guard, he was ALWAYS prepared.

The guard inspected Elthas's papers and identification.

"You're an Officer of The Trading Company?" The guard asked.

"I am." Elthas responded. He looked at the guard. "I spoke with the guard captain earlier, he personally approved my appointment with the magistrate." To Elthas, it was all a game.

"Very well, your companions will have to wait outside. Security protocol. And they need to be ready for Inspection." The man said calmly.

"Very well." Elthas turned to the large group of workers. "Mark." He called out his highest ranking worker. "Wait here for me." Elthas commanded. "I will return shortly after I have spoken to the magistrate to secure work here."

***

"Let me see this contract." The magistrate asked of Elthas.

Elthas pulled out the standard prepared Trading Company contract. There were legal protections for The Trading Company to exchange work and labor for paid benefits. Also, military protection when conducting larger scale projects. Elthas placed the contract on the magistrate's table. "It's all there. Standard."

"You're here to provide labor?" The man suddenly looked at the contract and began to read the legal errata for a long moment. It was quite detailed, and extensive.

"Fifty percent?!" The magistrate suddenly asked. "No worker is worth a fifty percent..."

"Keep reading." Elthas did not like ANY representative of The Empire. They were clearly short sided, and some would attempt to stop what Elthas was attempting to accomplish.

The magistrate suddenly appeared very nervous. "You're saying you're gonna provide a completely skilled work-force in exchange for labor protection and salaries?" The magistrate asked. The man was rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "You have all the legal documents and I have heard your lot practices noble practices." He looked at Elthas very seriously. "May I ask you something, Mr. Belthasar?"

"Anything." Elthas responded.

"Why side with us when The Rangers are more popular with poorer folk?" The man had to ask, it was a question of loyalty.

Elthas suddenly removed a document from his briefcase and placed it on the table. "Read that."

The magistrate reluctantly read it. "This is..."

"It is." Elthas responded. I have you where I want you. Elthas suddenly became very serious. "Workers provide the backbone for any military endeavor. In exchange for asylum, I am prepared to offer a virtually limitless work force to finally put an end to the war."

"Fifty percent...standard contact...?" The magistrate seemed to be very hesitant to agree to those terms. "You realize this contract is binding if I accept your terms?"

"I realize that." Elthas said. "I am providing that spark that you will need to reignite confidence in people's hearts. The Empire is rightfully the law now, and now you must reclaim the hearts of common folk." Elthas shifted his body weight gently. "Think of it as an investment for Radasanth's future."

"All right, Mr. Belthasar. You state a convincing case. I will need sometime to review the contract's details and go over other legal matters." The magistrate explained. "This sort of decision normally takes a month, but you came with the correct documentation and papers."

Elthas suddenly became very serious. He did not like the worm attempting to stop the wheels of progress. He narrowed his eyes. "You have one week."

***

Elthas was working in his office in Radasanth, now as officially part of The Radasanth Empire. In one fell swoop, he'd worked to increase the influence that The Trading Company wielded. He was going over various Trading Company documentation and work-force accounting. Initially, Elthas had arrived in Radasanth with a small group of about sixty skilled workers. Since then, The Trading Company had TRIPLED Radasanth's work force in a period of about two months. Elthas was going over charts and statistical data on his table, when one of the workers in his charge entered his office.

"Master Belthasar." The man said. "The new recruits are here waiting outside of the employment office."

"I will see to them personally." Elthas had a lot to smile about those days, in agreeing to accept Trading Company terms, he'd inevitably fucked The Empire over. However, he still needed to install the proper work-force needed to topped The Empire's regime once and for all. Elthas walked over towards Mark and smiled at him. "Let's go, Radasanth's workers needs us."

"As always, Elthas. It's time to stand up to The Empire." Mark responded.

"Not yet...we need to place agents in every facet of Radasanth's current regime." Elthas placed his fedora on. "In the meantime, we buy our time and do what we always do. Lead the waves of change."

A short time later, Elthas stood outside as a new group of volunteers for The Trading Company arrived. Elthas was a handsome man. He wore business suits all the time, and he dressed in typical Radasanth attire. His fedora was always worn with a slight tilt. He looked at the thirty-strong recent workers. The spark of revolution was lit. And Elthas would one day lead them all to FREEDOM.

"Gentlemen. Ladies." Elthas said to gathered workers, the numbers were growing. "Welcome to The Trading Company." And Elthas smiled.

He'd grabbed The Empire by the balls.

^(Enriler enter here)

[Fez_The_Kid]

The sun shone with radiance. It occupied the skies with such authority that, even the prodigious Citadel paled. Battlements rose high and illustrious over the city of Radasanth. Distant, protesting cries aped across the outskirts like a pack’s howl under the moonlight. A man walked streets, ever so forward. He constantly paused and observed the formative, illicit art that daubed virtually every wall he had passed. People weren’t on The Empire’s side those days.

The Empire’s eminence dwindled quickly. Dissidents careered over the streets, in a way that suggested chase-and-run. They hurried past the mysterious fellow, uninterested, and disappeared into an alleyway. Then emerged the pursuers. The guards had stalled behind their quarry, and the pursuit faltered quickly. One of them approached; skeptical.

“You there,” he addressed the man, “Have you just seen a few lads running about here?” he answered falsely. “Search every alley, every crate and every corner!” but then again, they still would have failed if he spoke the truth.

In the distance were the city’s gates, heavily littered with guards to the extent of obscuring the outside. If the man was going to learn anything of this, he needed to advance closer, yet anonymously. His attire will do. The man was clad in a dark, hooded coat; utilized to walk the streets seen, but unseen. As he approached, he drew his hood until it covered his eyes, yet his vision wasn’t obscured whatsoever.

Before him was a scene not many a pleb would witness.

Before the guards stood an eye-catching man, sporting a business suit and an antic looking hat. The preposterous matter was not the irrationally inappropriate apparel, but in fact the wearer was truly, actually an Elf. However, the look on his face surely meant business, and it allured the man like a moth to flames. It was difficult to eavesdrop on them without blending in the crowd that stood idle behind the Elf; like a shepherd and his sheep.

Though blending in the crowd translated into passage to the other side of the battlements -- outside the wall, which seemed beyond the bounds of possibility. There was naught to do but wait.

And finally after minutes of anticipation, the crowd, lead by the businessman, entered the city in one, parading group. As they moved, the hooded man dogged their steps, from a distance. Alarming such a quantity of people was simply too unnecessary, particularly due to his dark clothing. Both in color and demeanor.

….

And finally the shepherd lead his sheep to the grazing.

They stopped at a building, which was equally guarded as the city gates. And from the way it was designed, it surely harbored a high-classed identity. He unraveled the hood, and silently walked into the crowd. Now was his chance. They would not note him as they would have if he had approached during their brief walk over here. “I need to get closer..”

Apparently these people were a virtuous organization, known as The Trading Company, a cause advocating workers and acting as an auxiliary for Radasanth. And for what exactly were they doing here, it was for ‘the survival and safety of Radasanth’. The Elf was particularly entrancing to listen to, typically because of his style, not his words. However he certainly meant business. Ronrid was not leaving anytime soon.

The Elf turned, and Ronrid slightly cowered in an effort to remain undetected. He quickly stifled a giggle. Though no particular penalties were going to actually befall him if he was detected; it was just his clothes that worried him, they weren’t designed for standing in concourses. When he stood upright again, the Elf was gone. They were seemingly going to wait again.

“Psst,” Ronrid whispered to one of the laborers. He glanced at Ronrid inquisitively. Before he could mouth a response, the worker’s eyes were on Ronrid’s clothes and exclaimed:

“Nice coat!” immediately everybody turned, and they leveled him the same, leery look. He could do nothing but grin apprehensively.

“Oh crap..”

…

It was the same situation.

But this time they stood outside the Elf’s home, silently awaiting news from their ostensibly prudent leader. Ronrid was growing impatient. He was sick from the delay, while everybody else did not seem to object.

“Ow, oh! Watch it!” a distinct voice came out from Ronrid’s pants. At first, Ronrid was startled as much as the surrounding audience. But then it struck him like a hammer to the forge. That doltish…

“Poxsu!” Ronrid hissed at his coat, “Stop it!” and then awkwardly addressed the workers with yet another grin. This was the second time he embarrassed himself. “Excuse me, gentlemen…” the flustered youth move a distance away, and immediately started smacking his body. “For heaven’s sake, Poxsu!”

His body amused him everywhere, and he resumed to clout his body agitatedly. “Stay still!”

Finally emerged the tree-dwelling rodent as his head popped out of Ronrid’s collar, with one of the most ludicrous looks on his squirrel face. It was the worst he had ever bore. “What the hell are you doing?!” the youth demanded, exasperated in his tone.

“Nothing,” he completed his climb outside, “I’m just growing blasé about your body, sir.” before he leaped to his companion’s shoulders.

“Blasé? Is that even a word? Don’t answer that, just… just stay inside. Don’t come out until I tell you,” he threatened, “otherwise no nuts for a month!”

Without a word, Poxsu obeyed. With that toothy animal out of the way, Ronrid could return to the workers without indiscriminate trouble.

“Idiot…” mumbled Ronrid.

“I heard that!”

[SteelVoltage]

A shaft of sunlight escaped the gaps in the big burgundy curtains and pooled on the floor below, setting the crimson elven rug with a fiery brightness. Leslot stood in front of the looking glass, shirtless, wearing nothing more than his shaggy old breeches. His pale skin was thatched with scars, crisscrossing nearly every orifice. It pained him to look at those scars, but they were as much a part of him now as his own arms and legs. They had history, they had purpose. On the dresser beside him lay a pile of new clothes, crisp and folded to perfection. On the writing desk near the door sat a silver tray with a pitcher of watered wine, fried bacon, and a bowl of hard-boiled eggs.

Leslot pinched himself twice so far, just to see if he were dreaming. The night had been a rough one, to say the least. The featherbed that Master Belthasar provided him had its comfort, but it was foreign comfort. For nearly seven years he had been sleeping on floors and straw pallets. To get rest easy, he found was not easy. He hoped in time the comforts of a freeman would become less foreign, but for now he had to get dressed. This was his first day with the Company.

A taller pitcher, of fresh water sat beside a basin. He filled the basin and took a rag, scrubbing his face, arms, and feet. Before long the water looked almost muddy. Slipping out of his breeches, he put on the undergarments and his new breeches, which were made of a far lighter fiber, which he wasn't sure he could identify. Most Salvarn wore wool and threadbare clothing, but this was made out of finer southern goods, perhaps some sort of linen. The tunic he pulled over his head was white, with cloth of gold etchings, in swirl patterns. Shrugging on a long deep blue coat, he pulled the collar up and stared for a long moment, mesmerized at his appearance. Despite the red tattoos plaguing Leslot's countenance, he looked like a legitimate freeman. It nearly brought tears to his eyes. He made note to thank Master Belthasar again.

Not that he hadn't already. Surely, by now the elf thought him to be a true beggar. But, he couldn't help it. The long years of slavery humbled him, and he cherished everything given.

Hanging off one of the bed posts was his sword-belt. Made of heavy leather, with a great silver buckle. Also sheathed along it were the daggers Master Belthasar had given him during his initiation in the Citadel. The iron blade, sheathed in a knotted leather scabbard, had been given to him by the blacksmith that had taken him after slaying his master. Lifting it up off the post, the weight of it felt good in his hands. He fastened the belt around his waist, letting the sword sag a bit on his waist, like his father's had once done.

The bacon tasted of smoky hickory, and crunched in his mouth. He closed his eyes, savoring every bite of it. He poured himself some of the watered wine and drank, the sour taste forcing his mouth to pucker a bit. How long had it been since he tasted wine? Surely an eon had passed.

Leslot took a few of the hard-boiled eggs and stuffed them in his pocket. He could eat those as he walked. He didn't want to be late for his first day on the job.

Maybe he had slept later than he imagined. The narrow streets of Radsanth were packed with people. Carts, horses, and merchants clogged down the traffic. By now, he was more than familiar with the streets, and chose a side passage, taking alleyways. He felt like a fake as he passed by his old stomping grounds. In the alleys and the back streets he prowled for the quickest way to make coin, usually enough to buy himself some onion broth or a few turnips. More than once he ate some rotten vegetables, or even roasted himself a rat he caught. A beggar could have no shame, but as a freeman, a Company man, he kept his eyes ahead.

When he arrived, Master Belthasar was outside with a group of new recruits. He'd remembered what the Master told him last night before he went to sleep, to be ready to help him with any and all tasks. So he filed in at Belthasar's side.

"Gentlemen. Ladies." Master Belthasar said. "Welcome to The Trading Company." A smile crossed his face.

Those words made Leslot smile as well. He folded his arms behind his back, and leaned to Belthasar's ear.

"What shall you have me do first, Master?"

[Elthas_Belthasar]

Elthas's sharp eyes scanned the crowd. They were gathering, in troves, by the day. The Trading Company's ranks quickly swelled to full capacity and it was happening exactly as Elthas thought it might. People need work right now. People always need work. That's what false regime always forget when they conquer. That's why ALL regimes eventually crumble. Elthas heard Leslot speak and nodded towards him. There was a gathering crowd standing before Elthas's house. Even if it was planned or not, Elthas had gained control of the heart and minds of the populace. He was intending for the spark of imagination, hunger for knowledge, and the desire to be heroic to lead Radasanth to a brighter tomorrow. Elthas looked at several of his most trusted workers. Then he looked at his friend, Leslot. Nodding carefully, Elthas understood the weight of what was happening all around them. Revolution. The spark of warfare just needed one quick ignition and fuel to spread like wild fire. And then it all went horribly went.

Elthas began to address the gathered crowd.

Then, there was a commotion. Before Elthas could speak in the charming way he always had, five burly guards dragging a sixth man broke through the crowd. He suddenly and nonchalantly shoved the man towards Elthas and stared with an accusatory stare. Elthas recognized the guard from his first meeting with him. If you even think to betray us...it will be the gallows for you. Elthas tossed the captain of the guards a serious expression. "What is the meaning of this? I am preparing to start..." Elthas began, but he saw what the guard was about to do. The guard suddenly drew a fancy, Empire issued broadsword. Then he tossed a container his way, likely containing a scroll.

"By order of the Empire, you are hereby ordered to cease all revolutionary activity. Stand down from your position as an Officer of The Trading Company and prepare for arrest!"

Elthas looked at the sniveling worm that laid at his feet. He never even knew who the man was, but he looked like a commoner.

"Got a tip of anarchist activity here in the district. This worm confirmed that and said your name. I warned you fair and square. Now it's time to stop your anarchist activity..."

Without realizing the spark had been lit.

Someone in the crowd threw a small stone right at the captain's head. In a few brief moments, the guards were all surrounded by at least one hundred pissed off commoners. Elthas had represented hope for the common man, and The Empire was attempting to take the hope away. The common Althanian was capable of self defense, and some were skilled. The crowd, those who were armed drew weapons and pointed them towards the guards. Taking command of the situation, one of the guards knelt down towards the unconscious captain.

"I am assuming command of the mission." The burly guard said. Then the remaining guards agreed. They all turned towards the pissed off crowd. "You lot are disturbing the peace, I warn you, surrender now and be detained. Or face consequences." The guard said.

Elthas had heard enough.

"You would attack someone in cold-blood like this? What madness is here? I've never even met this man!" Elthas was serious, but he prepared himself and motioned for Leslot to do the same. He readied his combat daggers and took up a very tight combat stance. His combat stance scientifically designed for skilled physical counters. The guards turned to look at Elthas, and the newly promoted captain laughed.

"We've had our eyes on you, Elthas Belthasar." He said calmly. "You're not aware of our true mission here. In one fell swoop, your attempt to spark rebellion has sealed your fate. This is the proof we needed to tighten our control of the so called commoners that you are trying to protect." The man continued. "All of you must stand down. Ask yourselves, how valuable is your savior if he is in jail for the rest of the life facing the gallows?" The man said in a threatening expression.

The gathered workers were all talking among themselves. There was a nervous tension in the air. Trading Company workers were combat efficient and trained, but the average worker simply was defending themselves. Elthas did not expect his hand to get forced so suddenly. He looked at Leslot, and then towards the guards. Since he was already in combat stance, Elthas did the only thing he could naturally do.

One of the closest workers looked at Elthas with a worried expression. "What would you have us do, Master Belthasar?"

"We FIGHT!" Elthas yelled and prepared himself for combat...all gathered, readied weapons or ran if need be. But most were prepared to fight for the most important right of all sentients.

Freedom.

[Fez_The_Kid]

As Ronrid turned to face the workers, his eyes caught a newcomer, standing next to the suit clad Elf. His hair had a rare, azure hue; drab, gray iris and finally the most appealing: red, seemingly indelible mark pigmented into his face. A man of ectomorph build; thin, yet muscular.

At least that was how Ronrid viewed it. “Now how about that,” he extolled, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

“Everything fine, sir?” Poxsu was concerned.

“No, Poxsu. Relax. Nothing is--”

Once Ronrid was about to utter the word, the events twisted and blocked his final word. Several Imperial guards hasted and pushed through the crowd, apparently seeking the Elf with a hostage in their grasp. It was merely a plebeian. Somehow Ronrid was not surprised, the Empire was ever so infamous for its inhumanity. Which clarified why Ronrid was willing to support the Company whenever he could. And when a sword slid off its sheath, he shortly grew hyped. His hand reached promptly for his own.

“Sir!” Poxsu exclaimed, hastily exiting Ronrid’s garments.

“I suggest you move. Just keep me in your sights, I’m uncertain if I’ll be able to look around for you.” Ronrid said grimly.

“Alright, sir! But for God's sake, be careful!” Poxsu leapt for the nearest building, landing deftly on one of the frameworks and delivering one final glance of concern before disappearing around the corner.

“I’m an agnostic you idiot…” Ronrid mumbled sarcastically. He had not yet drew his dao, thanks to Poxsu’s abrupt retreat. Good. He needed to approach first. Otherwise he’d have been doomed had he charged from such a distance.

The Elf and the guards conversed, but when the words reached his ears they sputtered and died. He had to leg closer. Ronrid stood between the crowd, hood drawn, and hands on his sheathed sword. The guard ordered to ‘cease all revolutionary activity’ then revealed his intentions to arrest all workers; including Ron.

“I’m not going anywhere...” Ron muttered, before harvesting a cobblestone and stoning it square at the guard’s head. It delivered with sufficient force that the fool blacked out, “..bitch”

Once the cobblestone met earth again, the guards were surrounded by dozens of agitated plebeians and workers alike, their blades directed at the guards maliciously, like sheep exacting vengeance from wolves. Workers carrying swords was truly a fascinating sight, he had only hoped they knew how to wield it.

Another guard knelt down to check on his unconscious leader, then announced his exaltation as the new leader, much to his comrades’ concurrence. Then he proved himself even fooler than the previous one once he began threatening. He sought to arrest, or kill… Claptrap.

Then the Elf protested, in a manner that perhaps suggested his fear. Surely an Elf was more than that. Ron was proven wrong once the Elf drew two, entrancing daggers. The new leader guffawed immediately, but the adventurer could not help but stifle his own, leading to an unbidden wheeze through the nose. Then the man started to address the crowd, trying to kill that sparkle of hope within them by seizing the Elf a prisoner.

One of the workers inquired of their following act, perturbed. The Elf shouted an answer Ron longed for hearing.

This was his open window.

He weaved his way through to the front of the crowd, drew his dao then paused facing a guard’s back. He deftly swung the dao around him then square to his abdomen. Within moments, the edge lay inches from Ron’s own abdomen, drenched in a crimson hue. The man’s belly had acted as a barricade between the hilt and the blade. Ron twisted the hilt, then hissed in his victim’s ears.

“...retribution...”

[SteelVoltage]

The gathering crowd made Leslot’s stomach lurch. This many people always drew the attention of those in power. He wondered if this was a good idea. Master Belthasar passed him a reassuring look. No matter what, Leslot would follow the Elf’s lead.

There were so many soot-covered faces, people wearing nothing more than threadbare rags. Leslot’s nice new clothes made him feel a lance of guilt. Only a day ago, he had looked just like them. Their eyes were gaunt, their skin pallid and loose on the bone. Many of these people starved, scraping by would they could. Master Belthasar’s offer of work and a decent wage had drawn an immense amount. Leslot didn't realize just how many people within Radasanth were without a work, ample pay, and the necessities of life.

The crowd parted, a handful of guards draped in mail and leather were dragging another towards them. Fear became palpable, the tension immediately rising in the faces all around them. Confusion, anger, contempt all etched in heavy frowns and furrowed eyebrows.

"What is the meaning of this? I am preparing to start-” Master Balthasar said.

Leslot heard the sound of steel being drawn and looked down. The lead guard had freed his sword from the scabbard, an ornate broadsword with gilded etchings swirling about its crossguard.

"By order of the Empire, you are hereby ordered to cease all revolutionary activity. Stand down from your position as an Officer of The Trading Company and prepare for arrest!"

Leslot’s hand fell to his own steel, his fingers curling around the wrapped leather handle of his sword. Nothing of the sort was about to happen, not so long as he drew breath. Master Belthasar had taken him in, given him a meaning and purpose, when he lived a life of nothing. For that, Leslot was loyal and true. Sure, maybe others might flee in this moment, when the going got tough, but his father, a Knight of Salvar, taught him the meaning of loyalty.

The man they presented to them didn’t look like much. Just another sunken face. He looked desperate, and shaking. Leslot felt bad for him. Maybe he’d just come here like the rest, and the guards had put the fear in him. Or, maybe he was a snot-nosed traitor, come to try and get some Imperial favor.

"Got a tip of anarchist activity here in the district. This worm confirmed that and said your name. I warned you fair and square. Now it's time to stop your anarchist activity,” the guard said.

That was until someone threw a large rock, which clipped him in the side of the head. It hit his half helm with a loud ringing, denting it in. His head jerked sideways from the force of the blow, and he lurched for a moment, collapsing onto the cobbled ground.

The crowd was a writhing mass of anger, fear, and frustration. People began to draw weapons. A moment ago, they looked like a huddle mass of forlorn people, but in short time they were swelling into an armed militia. Leslot didn't even remember seeing any weapons.

One of the remaining guards took charge and had a brief exchange with Belthasar. Leslot didn't hear much, because he was busy, eyes searching the masses. That is when he saw the glint of sunlight on steel. Another guard unit approached, four maybe five, working their way along the side of the buildings where the crowd was looser. The lead of this group held up a crossbow, the point of the quarrel aimed straight at Master Belthasar.

"We FIGHT!" Elthas yelled.

The words rang out over the clearing, and hell broke loose. The guard fired, the crossbow humming. Leslot stepped in front of it, making sure it wouldn't hit Master Belthasar. The quarrel plunged into shoulder meat and Leslot yelped, falling to one knee. Warmth spread down his chest, blood staining his new clothes black. His eyes wandered down, amused at the wooden shaft with a feathered end poking out of him, like some sort of bad joke. Never before had he been shot. The stunted shaft was buried deep, at least half way, which no doubt meant the other side of it was poking out his back.

“Fuck,” he grimaced as the pain began, searing and pulsating from the wound. He shouldered glance back at Master Belthasar.

“Get down!”

More crossbows thrummed. More quarrels flew. Most thudded into the podium and wooden walls of the building behind them. Others went astray, skipping into the crowd and piercing random workers.

[Elthas_Belthasar]

Leslot saved his ass before Elthas could even react.

"Thaynes damn it." He immediately ducked down and more bolts were launched into the crowd seemingly at random. There were panicked faced all around him, and a few seasoned Citadel veterans that remained calm. Elthas knew what was happening all around him, he had to get the situation under control if they were going to take the fight to The Empire. Revolution. Elthas thought to himself. He attended Leslot right away, he viewed the former slave as more than a Company man. He viewed the fellow as a FRIEND. Elthas knelt down and assisted Leslot quickly taking command of the situation at hand. Elthas looked at Leslot carefully sizing up the man's injury. "I need you to stand, brother." Elthas commanded carefully. "I will be certain to have someone tend to your injury later." Elthas said calmly. Then Elthas shot a sharp look towards the guards. "Flanking positions!" Elthas yelled.

"You are all hereby, under arrest!" One of the guards yelled.

Elthas was getting royally pissed off at the guards that were suddenly pouring into the area. "We need to take them down NOW, we won't get another chance at this!"

Most of Elthas's followers were starving, and unemployed. Those who understood what was happening immediately sided with Elthas's cause. He was fighting for THEIR FREEDOM. Nobody cared about who "great wars" affected. Usually it was the poor and down trodden that were affected the most, but hey, shit happened right? Elthas was determined to become the voice of the people, the forgotten victims of The Civil War. Elthas cared about the people, in a way he'd been banished from his own people because he honoured the old alliances with men. Elthas quickly glanced about as he held Leslot aloft. There are too many, we're going to need a fucking miracle. Elthas thought to himself. A little help here... Elthas suddenly found himself praying. He wasn't sure WHAT he was praying to, only that he needed a Thayne's forsaken miracle. Once he said a few words, the Elf allowed Leslot to stand on his own. Then, he acted. More bolts were fired in his general direction, and into the crowd. Elthas noticed a hooded fellow he hadn't noticed before directly assaulting the guards by himself. Good, they are fighting for what is right. Elthas looked at Ronrid's person a little longer, then he reacted. Several bolts were fired away and he moved into Scorpion Sting Stance. He effectively began to counter the bolts that were fired in his general direction. With skilled grace, he parried the bolts as they came close. 1, 2, 3, 4... All were skillfully parried thanks to the effects of the Scorpion stance fighting technique. The bolts fell harmlessly to the side. Elthas rushed forward at his best speed, fifty miles per hours. He ran with the grace of a large predatory feline.

He suddenly leaped towards the new guard captain. The guard captain was busily parrying and stabbing innocent folks that were just attempting to defend themselves. Elthas rotated his masterwork steel daggers, as he jumped through the air. With his Scorpion Sting Stance active, Elthas suddenly brought his weapons down upon the shoulders of his opponent. The fellow was busily stabbing into the gathered crowd. Elthas could feel Hume blood splatter all over his hands as he stabbed down. He landed relatively close to the hooded boy's position. Ronrid. Elthas would have to speak to the stranger later, but for now, he would take any blade willing to bring up the cause of The Trading Company. Elthas stabbed down with his impressive body weight and size, and then, he ripped his daggers out of the guard captain. The man's body rotated around for a few seconds, then fell to the ground as he dropped his weapon.

"You're all making a serious mistake here..." The captain said. Suddenly, one of the nearby workers took his weapon and angrily decapitated the captain.

"No more promotions here!" The man yelled.

Elthas thanked the fellow for killing the captain off. Elthas, then turned at best speed and stabbed the former captain, who was JUST starting to stir. He stabbed in the back of the neck, and ripped his dagger out. The head came flying off. Elthas then rose to confront the nearest of the guards. Elthas noticed that the gathered were having a hard time keeping up with Elthas's rapid movements. Good. Elthas rushed the nearest of the guards that were gathered in the square, even as more were coming. Elthas just needed to defeat this wave to deal a decisive victory blow against The Empirical forces. Elthas had grown powerful, and it was his world views on the old alliances that would save him.

Elthas quickly slit a guard's throat. He had to pay careful attention if they were to have any hope for victory. The fellow grabbed at his throat as he bled out. Elthas suddenly ignited the spark that was needed. He rose one of his daggers towards the sky. "For FREEDOM!!!" Elthas yelled. And the crowd that decided to stay behind and fight, suddenly yelled in an uproar. They all began to fight soldiers in a fervor. Hopelessly outnumber, and hopelessly outgunned, The Freemen of Radasanth took up blades for the cause of one insane Elf. In that moment, he would ignite the spark that would forever etch Radasanth into a second age of Heroes. The freemen of Radasanth took up their weapons, they were starving, hungry, and pissed off at The Empire. Under such conditions, they gathered around Elthas Belthasar, Ronrid Gardla, and Leslot, and they fought with the fire of freemen.

They fought like Radasanthians.

In that moment, they would win their freedom back. Elthas was prepared to fight and die for his brothers and sisters. He took up the mantle of leader without realizing it took up another mantle.

The mantle of a General of the free people of Radasanth.