Knives in the Shadows

[Parrhesia]

(Man, I'm rusty.)

It had been 18 years after the start of the Blight, taken by many to have started a new era, and but eleven since it had ended. In those few years, the landscape had turned to ash, the crops shrivelled and wilted in the hands of the common folk, and once-proud nations were driven to annihilate each other on the field.

The Petrarchan Republic was on the brunt of several of these offenses, as their land was fresh and ripe for plunder. The fallen empire of Castria and the kingdom of Rysland fell upon the Republic like wolves, and a brutal conflict erupted. Respite came as the enemy soon found themselves at each others' throats, finding Castrian gold or Ryslander steel to be more worth their time, as well as settling old blood debts.

When the land was free of their enemies, many voices in the Senate called for revenge. But in their hearts they knew they could not truly seek revenge, not until they rebuilt or restocked. But they never forgot the insult that was paid them. And now, they feel they are ready.

Now is their time.

This is their story.

"First Man?"

The voice came hesitantly, and without confidence. Lasfrey sighed. The gutlessness of his colleagues was tiresome at times. Sometimes he almost wished for a man who would equal his bravery and insight, except for the fact such a man would have likely had him slain.

"What is it now, Geldain?"

"Well, can you be sure that we can defeat the Castrians once we provoke them into entering the field?"

Lasfrey spat. "Castrian axes are not your concern, Geldain. I have my allies, and they stand in high places. We will get our land back. What else matters?"

"The people. Our people." A different voice this time. Strong, but old.

"Ah, Lord Kenway. I had wondered when you would say your piece. Tell me, what do the commonfolk truly mean to you?"

Kenway gritted his teeth. "Damn you all, have you forgotten your origins? There are no patricians in this land! We're all equals here!"

"An illiterate peasant would likely prove a better orator than you, Kenway," said a slovenly lordling in the corner of the room. Kenway ignored him.

"And what exactly is this 'ally' you speak of?" he continued. "What makes you so confident in our chances?"

"The man has a point," came another voice.

"Open those damnable gates! Let's see what you're actually keeping so secretively behind 'em!"

Other voices followed, soon bellowing agreement. Much of the chorus seemed to focus on the content of the room behind Lasfrey, as he'd ordered the late steward's quarters emptied for his own purposes, and now kept the room locked and barred. Finally, Lasfrey slammed on the table.

"Alright!" he snapped. "I'll show you your goddamned warriors... you there, guard!"

All eyes turned to an unlucky axeman, who shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of all the most powerful men and women in the nation. His voice quavered a little. "S-sir?"

"Open the gates."

To his credit, the man did his duty. He saluted, hesitantly, then strode to the gates, and opened them.

Necks craned.

A glimmer of a sturdy golden frame.

A few seconds passed.

Finally, a lordling began to laugh uncertainly. "Ha... haha! There's nothing there in your little gilded ca-"

A huge, plated arm came from the cage, grasped the guardsman by the head, and crushed it to a jelly in a mailed fist.

Pandemonium reigned. And Lasfrey stood, and smiled. If the rest of the land followed the strong as easily as these fools, the continent would be his within the year.

Edited December 4, 2011 by Furetchen