The Crowning Mechanism
It Was A Death Sentence
"Victory will summon that which is divine.
Success will bring a kingdom into one's palm.
Treasure will grant power beyond mortals."
Reassurances were offered, like the hymn of a prayer.
Those words of confidence were empty, for even those whose livelihood it was to venture outwards considered a crown to be rare prize.
Those who were a special combination of misfortunate, mighty, and mislead departed the protective walls, the gates closing behind them until they returned with the mechanism. They could have welded the doors shut and had evidence of honesty.
After a final glace behind themselves at the bastion of safety, the party looked forward towards the fields of danger and set forth towards them.
The dim light of an untamed forest soon enveloped the group.
Lucanas Meretrix
That Same Day
A few weeks earlier, Lucanas felt panic grow gradually within himself. The walls were crowded, disease, misery, and death were over watching presence within the slums. The walls were corrupt, his own mother likely being slain by a noble of Vicariis. In the center lived those who never had experienced misfortune or discomfort in their lives.
Despite this, the warrior desperately didn't want to leave. Patrolling the streets was easy when you learned to harden your heart to those living beneath your own means. The walls and the central mechanism prevented the dangers from outside preying on those within. Perhaps it was crowded. Perhaps it was miserable. Perhaps it was corrupt.
But it was safe.
He had been lucky enough to live the majority of his life within the second wall, by his Majesty of Arx's grace. Although most days were spent training, recently he had avoided practice. A few days ago, he had finished mourning his own death. By the time he approached the gates for what he knew would be the last time, the tears had stopped and he was prepared to take on the world.
Only a few words had been uttered between the party since they departed, mostly basic introductions so the others would have some title to bury them with.
When he was buried however, his tombstone would be titled with his majesty. That was his quest, and what convinced him to keep moving forwards.
Later That Same Day
Looking upwards, leaves obscured the normal method of telling time, hiding the sun beyond eye's reach. The warrior's mind guessed that a forth of the days light had passed already, and his disciplined routine suggested that he start constructing plans for the journey based on his knowledge.
The reality was, he had absolutely no concept of where they were travelling or how long this journey would take. Those who travelled with caravans usually advised that most of the southern towers had already been captured, and that to the North was where untouched ones remained.
And so his feet moved along an untraveled path, and his eyes wondered in a search for danger only to find none. To be honest with himself, the streets of Arx was where he was comfortable spotting those who intended to do him harm.
Among these mysterious forests, it was difficult for his inexperienced eye to see anything. For all he knew, there could be beasts of the wild planning to slay them or a member of some pitiful tribe observing the group's every movement. He unconsciously found himself checking the grey dragonscale he wore every few minutes, ensuring once again that it was prepared for action.
His anticipation was growing until he hoped a dragon would appear before them to relieve their uncertainty. To distract himself from pointlessly observing the wilds, his eyes glanced over to each member of his party.
Another fighter, wearing lighter armor than himself and carrying a hand-and-a-half sword. It's coloring suggested wealth, but his attire did not. The warrior wearing the cross of Arx had guesses as to his background, but didn't want to spend too long speculating about the private life of another.
A man wearing a combination of strange garb. His weapon was copper, but his armor was of scale. It was a confusing combination that left Meretrix guessing at his background. Was he a serf who had escaped from the slums, or had he been kicked out from even the furthest wall for an act of disloyalty against the crown?
A slave who had managed to catch up to them during their journey. If she wanted to serve the party so desperately, he wasn't going to ask any questions.
He had an idea of who the last two were.
The teal haired blacksmith was something of an anomaly within the second ring, a blacksmith who recently had created a solution for polishing the finest of steels. Initially Lucanas had believed it to some strange tale, but after seeing the younger man training outside periodically with some strange blade he knew the 'legends' had at least some basis in truth.
The last one was a woman. Striking red hair and seduc ... piercing amber eyes. Those features weren't the strange part however. Initially spotting her, the warrior saw a cloak bestowed on her shoulders that only a noble could afford. He questioned for a moment if she had stolen it, but her introduction stated that she hadn't.
A mixture of hatred and confusion filled the veins of the warrior as he looked forward once more. Hatred, because she belonged to the house that had killed his mother. Confusion, because why would a woman, and even more than that, why would a person of nobility who lived a life in luxury choose to leave?
The warrior pondered about this for a moment, considering how to deal with her as his eyes looked off into the distance behind her.
