The Eastern road snaked its way across the lands of Acrusia with merchants bringing their much needed goods from the western cities to the towns to the east in exchange for gold. It had carried people for countless years and was witness to a wealth of stories, from tales of bandits to great magicians. The road was a lifeline for the Empire holding together. Without this road, the Empire would simply not exist, as it was vital for trade and movement of essential personnel such as guards and magical healers. On this cool, clear afternoon it contained 4 horses, each sat a person. The elders had heard disturbing news from a lone merchant that there had been some sort of disaster to the east, at the border town. Perhaps the bearer of the news was insane, or he was a drunk. Even so, a Captain of the guard, a sergeant of the Imperial Guard, a magical healer and a scout were ordered to investigate. The scout was to report back instantly once they had ascertained what (if anything) had occurred. The 3 day journey had begun yesterday at the Imperial City, and Captain Bryant was becoming tired. With the sun high in the winter sky, he thought it would be a good time to stop. 'This would be a good time to rest, do you all agree?' He asked. He had been given leadership of the mission, and wanted to get back as soon as possible. The Rebels roamed these parts, and had no mercy for the Imperial Guard. A captain would be a good kill for them. 'Yeah..... This place looks good, ill get the food prepared' Marsha replied. As healer, she was to ensure that the soldiers were looked after. 'Thank the Heavens, I'm starving' Sergeant Michaels exclaimed. He jumped down from the horse, and quickly lay down on the e side of the road. The grass was soft, and he looked up you the sky, breathing out a sigh of relief. 'We still got some of that meat from yesterday, will that be ok with bread everyone?' 'Marsha, that will be great you're cooking is divine', Bryant raised a smile. He got off his horse, and stretched his legs a bit. Bryant was a large man, with light brown skin. He had bright blue eyes and had a unique appearance. His mother was from the Elderon Empire to the south of Acrusia and his dad was a local slum dweller in the Imperial city. They had met when his mother came to the city to find work as a cook, bringing with her strange spices and meats unseen in this land until recently. A mixture of races was rare in the Empire.
'Ill just have a check were ok here' Goldric the scout said 'We don't want any unwelcome visitors'. He left the other three to walk a large perimeter around them. Bryant sat down and lay back on the lush grass. All around was green fields of grass, and he knew no-one would attack here. He chuckled. Goldric took his role very seriously, as newly appointed scout. Every time they stopped Goldric would walk a large square perimeter that took most of his rest. Bryant had tried to explain he didn't have to do it every time, but he had insisted. Danger would not be a factor until they reached the woods later on tonight. At that thought he sat up again and looked to the horizon, He saw the woods they would have to pass through, and a feeling of dread went through him. The woods were where the rebel stronghold resided. Imperial Guard Intelligence had no idea as to the exact location, but they knew it was in the densely packed trees ' somewhere. 'Hey Bryant' Michaels asked. His thought turned away from the woods 'Yes, what's up'. 'Can I err... ask you a ... err¦ personnel question sir, it's just that the guys back at the¦ err barracks have been talking, and they asked me to, well to ask you something' he paused 'if you don't mind of course sir'. Bryant lay back on the grass with a smile, he knew what it was. 'Yes Michaels, seeing as you've got the nerve to do so, I will allow you to ask me anything you would like'. Michaels was a brave soldier, too brave some would argue. 'Is it err... true you are from the slums sir? I mean brought up in the slums, when you was a child'. Marsha looked to Bryant with anticipation as she cut bread. She had wanted to know also, but she had too much respect to ask. Bryant had had this question many times from peers, but this was the first time a lower ranking guard had asked. Its not that Bryant was feared, it was that he was greatly respected. He was tough, but very fair on the guards under his command. Most guards disregarded the rumours' as ridiculous 'How could a Captain be a scum bag like the lot' some of them would say. Bryant replied 'Yes Michaels, I was brought up in section 4 of the slums. My mother and father ran a kitchen there. They sold soup form my mother's homeland and bread very cheaply to the homeless, and that's how we lived'. Michaels than sat up, he was even more interested now. 'No way! , you, a captain of the guard ' a slum boy? This must be a joke'. Marsha cut in 'Michaels, I think that's enough. 'No its okay' Bryant interjected, 'I ask you this Michaels, why is it so hard to believe that I am a captain. Why am I different to the other officers?' Michaels face looked confused, as if the question was ridiculous 'Slum people are lower intelligence than us in the decent quarters. And they smell'. Bryant laughed out loud, 'Ha. Do you mean to say I smell Michaels?' Michaels didn't know how to reply and an uncomfortable pause proceeded. 'Of course not sir, but you're not one of them. How can you be? You're an officer of the Imperial guard, not one of those pieces of riff raff'. The captain sighed, he had experienced this ignorance many times, but it did become tiresome at times. 'Michaels you have a lot to learn young man. I am from the slums, and will die a man from the slums. All because my family no longer lives there today, my roots will always be in the slum, until the day that I die'. Michaels was standing now 'But sir, how can you...’ He was interrupted 'The slum kids, are people to, like it or not the great peaks of Acrusia made me and you as equals. We are the same. You will never be able to patrol the slums until you realize this'. He relaxed 'enough of this anyway. Slum boy is hungry' and at that Marsha passed the captain a plate of the food. 'Smells delicious Marsha, thanks' Bryant smiled again, to Marsha's approval 'Yah Marsha thanks a bunch' Michaels chipped in. He had got his answer and ate quietly. 'You are both welcome. Where is that fool Goldric? He will miss his lunch ' again'. Bryant sat down and looked back out towards the woods and ate the tasty dish he had. He chuckled again as he saw Goldric about ¼ of a mile away, sword in hand jumping around like some sort of action hero bush to bush. He also had a lot to learn. Bryant enjoyed the company of newly recruited soldiers. He found their naivety entertaining, and enjoyed teaching them. He had trained many young men to become professional guards that could defend the empire, if that ever was needed. His thought were interrupted again as just beyond Goldric's theatrical display he looked to the woods. The feeling of dread returned.
The 4 of them had started towards the woods and it was now early evening. The large orange sun began to dip to the west behind them warming their backs as they moved. The sky remained clear and the ground was still damp from the savage storms of a few days prior. The trees thickened at every step, and the road continued to snake as darkness was closing in fast. The sky was revealing a sea of stars, and the moon became visible. Bryant, Michaels and Goldric had disguised their armour by wearing grey healer’s robes, similar to Marsha's, swords strapped to the side of the horses. Attack was rare, as the rebels had an unspoken understanding with the Imperial Elders - Live and let live. Even so, Bryant's natural soldier instinct caused discomfort at this. If attacked they could not respond quickly enough.
‘Sir, do you think we will make it to the forest for tonight?’
‘Well if we keep this pace Michaels, we hopefully shall. If not we will have to set up camp in the trees somewhere. The sky is clear, so it may not rain, but of course it’s quite cold this time of year’
The grand debating chamber in the Imperial City was an astounding site for those that entered. It was made of white marble bricks that were stacked up into an imposing room. The domed ceiling caused angry Elders voices to echo around the chamber for all to here. It held comfortable wooden benches, with grey cushions that surrounded the room in a circular shape, and could seat around 500 people. The huge ceiling was a rare architectural site in the Empire, and was a present from the Elderons when peace was made between the two warring Empires. Debating had gone on all day, and the elderly men and women were tired. No decision was made, and as all the Elders began to shuffle out two stayed behind to talk. They sat together on the bench at the centre. General Henry wore his metallic military uniform. He had an air of authority over anyone he spoke to, including the imperial aide.
'General Henry, good to see you, sorry to interrupt you're schedule, I know you've got that trip to Hifort today, but I though you may be interested in what I have heard'
'Ok, what is it?’
'General, we've heard some strange news from the East. At first we thought nothing of it, but the bearer was covered in what appears to be human blood and….’
Machiavel was clearly interested.
'Well… General, apparently there's been some sort of disaster at Atriop, the border town. We've heard that citizens have been killed by some sort of outside party. We are not sure at all what it is'.
Machiavel looked out across the chamber; he pondered this news
‘And what of it. Like you said just a mad man'
The Imperial Aide continued
‘Yes that’s true. But sir…. He was carrying the remains of a human baby’
‘OK, so he’s a murderer’ the General replied without any obvious alarm.
‘I took the liberty of sending 4 Imperial personnel to have a look, but they won't be back for around 5 days'.
Machiavel looked at his inferios in shock
‘You did what? Do you know where they have to pass through?!'
'General I know, the rebels ' but they have been inactive for a long time. Murders on the road thought the woods have ceased'.
'Hmmm' Machiavel thought again
'You should have consulted me.’
'Sorry, I will do so in future, but I’m aware of the pressure on everyone due to the premier’s illness so didn’t want to make matters worse’
Silence again
'Where is this man?'
'Well sir naturally, he has been arrested’
The General stood quickly
'Take me to him now'.
The candle flickered softly in the room as air passed over it. Shadows danced around on the concrete brick walls like ghosts, and was the only thing keeping this cold and damp room from plunging into darkness. There were no windows or doors and escape was only possible through a small wooden door in the ceiling, which was stuck. In the day a small amount of light would pass through the cracks of this door, but not enough to overwhelm the dark void of this room. All sorts of things were to be found in here such as broken swords, old clothing and wooden toys. Barrels and crates littered the room containing goods such as carrots, potatoes, and fruit also. They mainly contained beer. Some of the containers had been opened and its contents consumed. One barrel contained the fresh cores of apples, some potatoes skins, vomit and even human excrement. Fortunately this one had been sealed and the foul odour trapped inside. In one corner the candle sat atop a wooden crate, with an opened book next to it. It had been partially read, as the present reader found it hard to concentrate when their thoughts were consumed with worry. Worry for themselves, and the worry for many of their friends and family. Next to the crate sat the young woman. She hugged her knees and looked out into the void, her eyes damp. She had cried more times than she could remember, and had no idea as to how long she had been down here. It felt like an eternity. She was scared of what had happened to her town, and its people. When a day had passed she knew her brother was dead as he would never leave her in this terrible room to suffer. She had sat in the dark silence for almost a day before she found the matches and candles and with no water down here, all there was to drink was ale. She was not familiar to alcohol, and she had become sick but as the days passed her tolerance grew. The food was beginning to turn bad, and she knew she had to get out of here before she starved. Her memories still held the roaring of destruction that surrounded her home town. She knew the house above her had collapsed and Liberty was certain this cold basement was to be her tomb.
