Many blazing torches burned as brightly as a wavering red aura over crenellations doting what resembled an aging, yet well constructed stronghold deep within Voltas itself. Once a monumental fortification within Voltas' ancient history, its purpose had largely fulfilled a role that saw to the city's first interior defenses as one of several castles belonging to the ancient Valanian Kings and families of old. Even under new ownership, the defensive holdings served their purpose as the flames doting the outer ramparts continually flickered back and forth over the darkened skies to offer cascading illuminations over the properly carved, stone walls. It now stood as one of several Nezam Corps' headquarters residing within Valania proper and the ortas manning its facilities stood day and night. They remained vigilant, however, given the startlingly recent developments, the Nezamnissaries had been spread thin as more frequent patrols were ordered to man the streets.
Their business came with guarding a chamber some levels below where the flickering torches locked against iron braziers as they smothered shadows across the compound chambers. Only dim illuminations spilled throughout the chiseled stone walls and against the early evening skies, a fresh breeze brushed through the chamber's various enlarge loopholes and openings, threatening to purge flames and bathe the interior in darkness. Outside, shouting had grown louder as tensions had begun to flare between the Garrisoned Nezam Warriors and various Azad commanded Paighan outfits. Amidst remaining vigilant, the uniformed Nezamnissaries instinctually wrapped their fingers along their sword pommels whilst keeping their snaphaunce muskets shouldered if the occasion required.
The evening had marked an increased presence as the entire Nezam Garrison remained on high alert. The previous evening's encounters had been marked in turmoil and in lue of the Royal Sarifen Prince's condition, the Nezam's orders had explicitly involved shooting any unauthorized intruders on sight whilst to guarding the chamber with their life. Additional patrols and hastily erected perimeters had since been required as word set out to inform the Emperor regarding his son's conditions. No one, not even those of the highest aristocratic rank were allowed into the stronghold, save the Imperial Bahramesh Zhayedans.
The Prince's life hung on the balance, mandating the strict precautionary security detail that lined the chamber doors. To ensure maximum security, two veteran Nezam Warriors clad in armor, ceremonial attire, and weapons stood vigilantly within the chamber. Their orders strictly demanded that they protect the Prince with their life. Failure wrought treasonous condemnations that were punishable by death or worse. In retrospect, their watchful gaze, hands upon pommels, and rigid bearings spoke of experience, training, and fanatical dedication towards the Imperial Family. No sane individual would reach the Prince lest they willingly wished to die a quick and brutal death.
The hours had certainly dragged through the evening, yet the shouting matches only grew louder as various voices proclaimed themselves as members of the Sarifen aristocracy and commanders of their own regional conscripts. Frustrations amongst both parties drew more heated as the commanders demanded they gain entry amidst jeers, insults, and curses throughout the Paighan ranks. The verbal barbs had only begun to grow more colorful amidst accusations that orphans had no right to dictate authority or restricted passage over those that hailed amongst Orad's highest patrician courts.
It was following another hour's worth of insults before one of the veteran Nezams stepped towards the window to investigate a particular back and forth tirade that pitted the Bozorgan of Baktria and Valania's Nezam Sekban. The man's gaze slowly rested upon the Bozorgan, who had just had only begun to a hurl a tirade that accused the Nezams of heresy against Zendricaanism to be brought towards the Emperor himself. His attention quickly diverted towards the enormous gathering outside that formed a patchwork of Sarifen conscripts, retainers, and half a dozen, ranged siege engines confiscated and repurposed from the city's aging ramparts. The armed Paighan presence had nearly quadrupled following their arrival during the late afternoon hours.
A conflict as inevitable and it seemed their brothers would find themselves isolated. Words did not usually exchange this long without a sizable blood fued and for matters concerning the Prince, the unfolding conflicts seemed unusually ...
civil. Perhaps the feud would allow the Nezams to put their skills to good use. They were hand-picked to be the chosen to serve and answer to none other than the Emperor and his family. On the other hand, the conscripts masses tilled the land, gathered in the droves, and bred like rats, but could not hold a line to save their hides. What were the nobility, but slightly better dressed commoners and undisciplined authority? Their performance during confrontations that demanded adaptive skills, wisdom, and martial evidence would decide their fates.
Before the Nezam could further survey the growing conscript forces along the Stronghold's main gateway, the wind shifted, delivering a large gust through the chamber. Within moments, the torches had flickered so strongly that the entire room bathed in darkness; diverting the two warriors' attentions away from the openings. Somehow, the man's arm hairs shot upwards and a slight tingling sensation he hadn't felt since his childhood raced through his spine. This could have meant two things; sorcery or an intruder's untimely arrival. He ascertained that the former held no merits, given that the Inquisition had insured that sorcery could not exist within the Nezam compounds.
That only left the latter, which provoked an instinctual desire to prepare his snaphaunce. His suspicions were not unfounded for no sooner had his fingers cocked the musket's hammer than the wind dissipated; allowing light to once again illuminate the enclosed chambers. His eyes blinked as the light unveiled two dark skinned intruders arched over the Prince's bedside, one of which displayed startling womanly features. Smiling, the woman rose and quickly unfastened her robe before spreading her arms to allow it to drop to her feat. Startled, the Nezamnite gaze rested upon the woman's naked form and for a moment he could not help, but stare as her entrancing beauty captivated his attention. Within moments, however, his wits quickly reformed and the warrior instinctually leveled his musket.
A loud clap filled the air, momentarily lighting the room followed swiftly by several others; unveiling the Nezam Warriors' supporting intervention. Rising, the man's eyes suddenly widened as blood frothed from his temple. Moments later, the man's eyes lolled as he lifelessly collapsed upon the chamber opening. Silently, the two remaining Nezams' eyes shot towards their companion's body and glanced towards one another and calmly drew their pistols before advancing as one towards the two intruders. Amidst their steady marching, the warriors managed to cross the distance to take position near their fallen companion before leveling their firearms. Two additional claps sounded from the distance followed swiftly by angry shouts and curses.
Moments later, shots rang out along the ramparts and street barricades as the sounds for battle commenced all throughout the Stronghold grounds. Shouts and alarms sounded as each party hastily returned fire and within minutes, shots began to pepper both the stronghold's ramparts and the surrounding streets. Cannon fire, Onager rounds, and Ballista bolts followed shortly and causing the stronghold to rumble as the shock mercilessly created a rippling effect across the stone walls.
A man carefully made his way around the bedside as he tucked away his pistol through a loose section within his own belt. Even as the blood began to seep onto the floor his eyes fell upon the woman's ravishing form. Through the darkness and the surrounding pitched, the youthful woman almost glided as her gentle steps brought her towards her companion's location. Her flowing raven black, shoulder length hair along pearly yellow skin, drew upon her lineage somewhere deep across the ocean and only added towards the lustful stare that filled the man's eyes. His expression ranged from outright admiration to mild irritation and admits strolling forward, his hands found their touch upon the lady's breasts.
βI am not complaining,β a voice uttered through the darkness, βBut
merde! Was that charade β¦
necessary?β
Giggling, the woman merely stood by as her companion's hands softly trailed along her body. Shortly before he could run a finger down through her coital line, the lady seductively sauntered backwards until she came within inches of the motionless Nezam corpses. Musket shots fluttered along the loophole opening where several found their marks along the chamber's walls and outer ceilings. Her smiles and inviting bodily gestures proved enough to seduce the man into her immediately vicinity, where upon her arms gestured towards the loophole. Shortly after he stepped into the limelight, the man's dirty blonde hair slightly illuminated through the opening's sparse lighting and through what he could discern; shouts, muzzle flashes, and smoke trails had begun to pour out of the ranks that gathered from below.
Tensions had already flared throughout the early evening, however, the skirmishing proved the last nail into the coffin as Sarifen Paighans began to swarm the compound grounds in a fully fledged effort to storm the Nezam Headquarter Walls. Slowly and surely, officers ordered their men to action under blistering Nezam fire amidst the blaring horns and rumbling drums. The aristocrats would not rest until they had stormed the Stronghold in an effort to conduct what they perceived as an open act of aggression against the Empire itself. Cries and curses for justice, vengeance, and glory in their lords' names as well as for the Empire's heir and Prince rang into the night as the Paighans stormed the stronghold with unrelenting fury.
βBut I did what was necessary to ensure this,
oui?β the woman's answered as her hand dramatically swept towards the swarming Paighans as they stormed across the Stronghold grounds with ladders, torches, and hand cannons alike. Her smile only grew as shots, arrow, and crossbow bolts rained down from above, felling numerous Paighans in deadly and highly disciplined volleys. Cannon fire rain upon the assembling ranks like miniature mallets, however the devastation only proved to further antagonize the determined Sarifens, who began to resemble a tide of gnats against a wall.
βThe Sarifens,
mon Chevalier aimant, lack unison to where cannot last a mere month without warring against each other,β the woman continued before quietly moving to seize her garments, βWe, on the other hand, possess all the inner workings of something greater and our information has always been sound and kept us alive thus far, has it not?β
βIndeed it has!β The Chevalier fitfully exclaimed. His gaze remained momentary fixed upon several Sarifen aristocrat carrying their respective household banners as they aggressively urged their men into action. βIt does, however, remain to be seen how much the Sarifens bloody themselves before each of their factions parlay.β
βBy then, it will be too late," the woman replied as she slipped her peasant gown back over her body, "For the graves prove too many for any party to seek any sort of reconciliation or redemption!β
Giggling, the woman's arm gestured towards the door and in short order, a commotion echoed across the chamber as various shouts and cries announced Prince's Imperial Zhayedans arrival. Their attempt to force entry became momentarily delayed upon discovering the door's stubborn features and as the doors banged loudly, the wooden timber planks that held together each door frame threatened to buckle inwards.
"Well! If we continually command our own fates, our powdered reserves and coin will only grow to extend across the continent. I simply love my work," the Chevalier remarked, chuckling as he and the lady quietly dove back under the chamber's bed. Moments later, the door burst open in a sea of light, heavily armed Zhayedans, and clattering footsteps β¦
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