Farsuth

[Jones]

EHTYAREANU: Éhtyarëanu had led the other on a long journey through the woods. It had taken them nearly a week, as the elf had taken the other on a winding route, back and forth through the woods, occasionally doubling back, and changing direction frequently. It wasnt the most direct route, but instead, it was designed to confuse the other, and ensure that he couldnt just retrace his steps, should he want to return. But after the long trek, they could now see the city in the distance. "Well, I suppose this is where I turn back" Éhtyarëanu said, obviously not interested in visiting the bustling human population center. On the contrary, he just wanted to get back to Arianwyn once more. He didnt like being away for very long.

ARUTHA TORIL: The week had been a long one, but Arutha attempted to learn as much as he could from woodland traveling. He asked questions, received answers. And he learned fast. He learned fast enough that, within a few days, he could tell that Ehtyareanu was purposely leading them in a winding and confusing route. He wasn't good enough to counter the idea, trying to remember the way they had come...it became too confusing, but it was enough to know that was the point. And he couldn't blame the elves for wishing it to be this way. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: Such a perfect, quiet haven... Had he been a part of it, he was sure he wouldn't any human troubles returning either. --- So he never said anything about it. He continued to follow the elf, and learned what he could about hunting...choosing camps. And before long, Ehtyareanu was standing beside him looking at the human-made road. It was a dirt track, this far out in the woods. Closer the city, smoothed out rock...concrete, would appear. But he was still too far. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: "Thank you for your help, Ehtyareanu." For once, he said it perfectly. He had heard it enough by now that with a few more days of practice he'd taken during the trip through the woods, he could say the name comfortably enough. "As well as the gift. As I have said, time and again... If you ever find yourself in Farsuth, find me. I will repay your generosity." He held out a greeting hand to the elf, much like had when they'd first met in the tavern.

EHTYAREANU: Shaking the other's hand, the elf shook his head. "That's unlikely, but thank you none the less. I have my place." he explained, nodding. After a few moments of silence, he decided he'd best get going. He turned and headed back into the woods, and soon disappeared within them. Now once again, the other was all on his own. He likely wouldnt be seeing any elves for quite a while.

ARUTHA TORIL: Arutha was on his own. The road was so different in comparison to the woods. Here, Arutha could actually look up and gaze at his surroundings, without worrying about hitting a downed tree or end up in some beastly den dug underfoot. The road he followed was well used... Dust was in the air, telling him that it hadn't been too long since a carriage or wagon cart had rolled by here not too long ago. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: He would follow the road for another three hours before he saw the first signs of human civilization. --- Farsuth was bustling city, bursting with human life and all of its flaws. Some of the higher sects in society considered the outskirts of the city to be a literal flaw. The outskirts was an urban place. An overflow of the life that couldn't be contained within the city's main walls. Here, there were farm fields that many of the city's crops were harvested. But there were also shacks, run-down taverns, and the dirty in general, who survived with only the clothes on their back and whatever they could steal when the inner-city. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: Normally, Arutha, usually being a richly-dressed noble son of the Governor, would be under escort with five or six city guards, and on alert himself, armed with a sword, when traveling through. However, when he had left the city a week and more ago, he had been sneaking out in the middle of the night. Although it was day light now, the hard travels had taken enough of a toll on him that he looked no better than the average commoner. His white tunic was filthy, and his black pants, ripped almost to shreds. His boots, scuffed and dented beyond repair. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: None of the thieves within the vicinity even gave him a second look, except for the make-shift backpack he had strapped to him. But even then, he looked so poor, they wouldn't have had the heart to take it from him. --- Arutha continued on without being hindered, knowing he had to look a sorry-state of affairs. With his long black hair slicked with grease from not bathing...the beard around his face, unkempt and thick, full of shrubbery he had plowed through following the elf in the woods... It was almost scary. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: Arutha knew he was close to the inner-city when he came to the end of a line of wagons, families, and other citizens, going through a check-point at the city gate. He glanced up at the sky, realizing that he was coming through the city's southern gate, based on the fact that the sun was beginning to set to his left. --- One by one, the guards inspected the wagons and asked families and citizens questions...mostly about their purpose in the city, and where they would be staying. --- The security seemed to have doubled, maybe even tripled, from what Arutha remembered. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: Upon the walls were crossbowmen, their eyes sweeping through the crowds, totally alert. On the ground and at the gate were a scattering of swordsmen, ten guards or so, taking turns from inspecting people's goods and just moving along the line, simply studying the crowd, apparently looking for anyone suspicious. --- Arutha wondered what would have inspired his father to make such changes. Could it have been Arutha's disappearence? Or did it have something more to do with the Callum's? -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: "Papers! Give me your papers man!" Arutha looked up and watched as a guard grabbed a man's arm and dragged him from the line, tripping, and throwing him to the ground. The man had to have been older than fifty, maybe even sixty years... His hair, pure white, with wrinkles around a now very fear-filled face. "I don't know where they are! Please! Don't hurt me!" The guard swung a gauntlented hand back across the old man's face. There was blood, instantly, and then silence. Arutha gazed on at the situation in horror, too shocked to move or do anything else. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: He was even more disturbed by the lack of reaction from the rest of the line. Everyone close to the old man lying there, the guard standing over him, simply kept their heads down. No one moved to help. No one raised a voice in defense, or moved to aid the man. --- What had happened here? What could have changed the minds of the citizens so severely? And what had gotten into the guards? The guards had NEVER laid a hand to anyone before... -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: As the line moved forward because of the space the old man had left, Arutha finally got a look of the thick caped material that unfurled down the back of each of the guards. It was the red eyed eagles of the Callum family. --- "Show me your papers!" Another guard, further down the line, had addressed a woman this time. Luckily, she had them tucked inside her robes, and the guard gave a terse nod and sent her through. --- Arutha had to think fast here. He had no papers, and not only that... He was sure he was a face they were watching for. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: No doubt, something was very, very wrong. The city guard had always been run by a neutral organization. An group, agreed-upon by the most powerful rival families. The fact that a family had totally taken over their positions... a family that was NOT Toril...and in fact, the Callum's, meant something was very wrong indeed. --- Arutha glanced about, feeling panic beginning to settle in. Somehow, he was going to have to avoid the gate and still gain access the city...and get out of this line, without drawing attention to himself. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: "Master Arutha!" came a whisper off to his left. Arutha whirled toward it, his gaze picking out a figure hiding behind a shack. Arutha looked up, making sure that the guard's eyes hadn't come as far back as he was standing, and he slipped off to the side and disappeared behind the shack, out of sight. --- Once there, he stood four feet taller than the creature that was in front of him, thick in red-brown hair, wearing a tunic with the ensignia of crossed hammers stiched on the chest. The halfling was grinning up at him, his green eyes ablaze. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: "Tirith! You scoundrel!" The two embraced for a moment, Arutha picking the halfing up off his very feet, and then setting him back down again. "Well, damn me. What has happened here? Why has there been a change of the guard? How can it be old men are being punished for simply not having their papers!?" The halfling raised a finger to his lips, shushing Arutha, taking a nervous glance back in the direction of the gates. "I'm sorry, Master Arutha. But there is no time to explain. We have to get you inside the city walls. There's a secret entrance I've been using to the east.." -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: The halfling turned and began to lead the way. "I only paid the boy a few coins to keep it open. We must hurry before he decides he's tired of waiting and lets the door close." --- Arutha followed the halfling on an circular path, only getting close to the wall once they were well out of sight and ear-shot of the southern gates. The stone wall continued on, slowly curving northward. There was nothing here except on top of the walls... Guard houses, stationed every 400 yards. Luckily, there was no foot traffic above, and they were able to keep to the wall without worrying of being discovered. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: The halfling stopped at a part of the wall. It looked solid enough at first, but after the halfling gave a small rap of his hand, part of the stone began to break way and a door...on hinges and all, slowly opened inward. A boy, dirty and grimey to the bone, dressed in rags, peered suspiciously out, before opening it all the way. "Let us through boy!" The halfling said sternly, pushing the boy aside. Arutha followed, only giving the boy a quick glance before continuing on. --- Inside, the tunnel was dark and dank. The place smelled as if it had been erected hundreds of years ago. Like old mold and dew. -- "This way," the halfling said in the dark, his eyes bright as he stared ahead and took the lead. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: Before long, after many twists and turns, several passage ways ignored and others taken, with the boy having followed behind Arutha, the three came up to a wooden door. The halfling gave another rap of his hand... And this time, when the door was opened (sounding as if it was unbolted as well), a fat man in a black vest and brown pants opened the door. "Halfling! How many times have I told you to..." -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: The man's face first held a scowl. He hadn't noticed Arutha at first, on account of him being prepared to stare down the halfling right away. But when Arutha stepped out as well, the man instantly shut up and took a step back, his expression turning to one of bafflement. "Who..?" The halfling stamped a foot down, hard, right onto the man's boot, causing him to cry out in pain and begin hopping around on the other. "He's Governor Toril's son, I'll have you know! And don't you dare admonish me..." -c-
ARUTHA TORIL: "...for using this door, barkeep! How often have I come into the Silvery Willow and spent my coin? How many times has the Governor looked away when you've run your illegal gambling games?" The barkeep had finally stopped hopping about and looked rather ashamed of himself, held his breath, and glanced between the halfling and Arutha, his gaze finally settling on him. "Forgive me, Master Toril. Your father is a good man. Better than most. The gods know he does what he can in these trying times. Come on. All three of you." -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: He turned and began leading the way out. It turned out that it was a backroom they stood. The next room was through another bolted door that the barkeep had to open with a key. Once inside, Arutha realized it was the tavern's kitchens. None of the cooks looked up at the train of people that walked through. Evidently, they had already been strictly ordered to mind their own business. --- The barkeep turned when they reached the other end. "Alright. Now. Remember. You've been here all night. Go ahead and make yourselves at home. I'll send a wench with some ale over to your table." -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: Arutha was confused. Bewildered. Lost. But the halfling Tirith seemed at ease; calm, as if everything was going according to plan. He knew when Tirith would give him the sign that he could speak and ask his questions. For now, he followed blindly. --- The boy was sent out the door, while Tirith and him entered the tavern's main room. The Silvery Willow was a hustle and bustle with business. Patrons filled the bar, and almost every table. However, there was an empty one in the back; a booth of sorts. And Tirith made a bee-line straight to it.

EHTYAREANU: Among the patrons in the tavern, was an older gentleman. He was well dressed, with silver hair, long, but well kept. His clothing might suggest that he was a noble, though they also suggested that he was not from around these parts. He sat by himself with a single drink in hand. He was from far to the north. What he was doing here, however, was a mystery. He had been in that same tavern every night for the past few days, though no one seemed to be taking notice. He might have looked out of place, but things sure seemed to be a bit abnormal around these parts lately.

ARUTHA TORIL: On the way to the booth, Arutha tried to take in the faces of the patrons he saw. He was home now. There was a certain game that was always played. And that game could be dangerous, especially for nobles, if one did not watch his or her back. One thing Arutha had always been good at was keeping an eye out for those in the vicinity that would be of use to make contact with. Potential allies from other, smaller noble families. Clients, who might make use of some of the trading systems that the family Toril ran. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: Right now? He watched for potential enemies. Everything was so topsy turvy, he couldn't be sure who would be friend or foe to him. The older gentleman with the silver hair was definitely taken notice of. Most of the patrons seemed to be commoners who either were masons at the castle keep, or worked the mines outside of town and occasionally stopped in at the end of the day... The rabble, so to speak. The older gentleman seemed out of place. -c-

ARUTHA TORIL: But the halfling was sitting him down and already talking, and Arutha had to pay attention. "Definitely, you are in need of a bath, as soon as we've gotten you home safely, Master Arutha." Arutha smirked and nodded an affimative. "Agreed, Tirith. Believe me. No one wants me in a bath more than I do." He settled back, relaxing...for the first time in a long time into the rough wooden bench he sat in. And let his mind go for a moment before continuing the conversation. "Now tell me Tirith, why don't you start with...what the hell is going on?"

[Jones]

Tirith sighed, and sat in silence in the booth, staring down at the wooden table top in front of him, avoiding eye-contact with Arutha. Yet, he could feel the intense stare from the man, the noble son, who was more a son to his father than any of his three older brothers. If only Governor Toril could see the man who, with just his expression, demanded obedience and information… And so effectively.

”A lot has gone on during your absence, Master Arutha.” The halfling took another deep breath before continuing, looking straight into Arutha’s gaze. ”The Callums became busy a few days after you left. Your father was getting reports from his agents on trade movements. Bigger wagons than normal were arriving in the city, and then mysteriously disappearing behind their family walls… Not being distributed to their businesses.” Tirith looked away from their booth, sweeping his gaze across the room for any potential eavesdroppers. He decided to soften his tone even more and leaned forward as much as he could across the table.

”Weapons. Armor. Other military supplies. And they all went to the city guard. No one saw it coming. No one knew what it meant until it happened. No one knew they had such gold.” Arutha froze, his eyes looking past Tirith now and off into his space while his brain kicked into gear, and came to a few realizations.

Farsuth was a city that thrived on politics. With a hierarchy of families, power was always a constant struggle. Thirteen families, traditionally, made up most of the backbone of the city’s governance as well as its livelihood. Every business, whether it was a warehouse or a tavern, was run by one of the families. Of course, the strongest of the families owned most of the city’s business, and therefore, commanded the most influence.

But there had been agreement in the fact that a family could not be ruled to command the army or the city guard. That was something that had to be joint. A neutral Council, where each family had one to represent their interests, who made such militaristic decisions with the welfare of the city and its people in mind, not just its family. It was a flawed system, but one that had remained mostly successful despite a few kinks and bumps in the road, over the decades. It was determined that, were one family to be able to control the military…there would be too much power. Power that could literally use the sword to change the hierarchy.

”That’s their purpose,” he muttered to himself, leaning forward, burying his face in his hands as he tried to stop his head from throbbing.

The Callums had sold their businesses. That’s where the gold must have come from. And with it, they had gained influence on the city guard with having bought all that the city guard needed to survive. Of course the Callums would gain control of it. Was the city guard where it stopped?

”There is more, Master Arutha,” Tirith whispered. ”There are plans. Whispers. The Callums will move quickly and efficiently. Your father is in danger. Your entire family. The Torils are at the heart of the Callum’s pain and suffering these past few years. Supposed pain, in anycase.”

”That would explain the attempt on my life.” Arutha quickly launched into the tale of meeting Sir Greggor at the tavern a week ago, and how he had come to be as poorly dressed as he was. Once done with that, he stared at Tirith hard, his face turning to an expression akin to steel and anger.

”Get me home, Tirith. Get me home.”

[Jones]

It was a quiet night. The stars were out, spread across a black ceiling, twinkling distantly. The moon slowly rose to its zenith, streaming down a silver brilliance that lit up the courtyard below. From here, he could see the garden clearly, even the rivulets of water that sprung from the springs beneath through statues of strange creatures and honored saints, spilling into deep pools. Around the pools and hedge bushes were paths for visitors, grass covered, cut daily, leaving a smell of freshness in the air.

It was peaceful. A small amount of peace for a life of chaos.

Darien Toril, head of the Toril family, and acting Governor of the city of Farsuth, spread his hands against the stone railing before him, and stared over the balcony at the city before him. After all, from this vantage point, there was much more than just the garden to admire. Here, he could see the rising spires of the church, the towers of the keep, and the glass dome of the Labyrinth of Histories. His gaze lingered upon this last wondering sight, only knowing what it was by the moon’s reflection off its ceiling. This was his creation; his first and wondrous gift to the city.

What good had it done?

During Darien’s childhood, Farsuth had been nothing more than a city of brigands. Of warring families. Death was a constant day in and day out. Blood regularly bathed the public grounds. People lived in fear, and loathing for the cruelty of those who ruled. Darien vowed, from the very days he had become a part of the city’s legion, he would sweep the city clean of the filth. He would bring something akin to greatness to his home, and make sure the city was rid of those who would continue to desecrate its name.

And he had done just that. For decades, rising into the ranks of the political battlefield, obtaining power and wealth, Darien had manipulated and killed terrible tyrants. He had re-founded the Council, ensured the representation of the major families, and indoctrinated the most extensive of domestic policies ever conceived by a ruler of Farsuth. It was what ensured his title as Governor. In one hand, he had always held the might and power of someone who could defend this city’s walls, and make the harsh decisions that ensured the safety of his family. In the other hand, he held a love that was unparalleled by any for the city itself. He continually made its people the very reason that the city existed.

Yet, it was all quickly unraveling.

”Ahem. Sir?”

Darien closed his eyes for a moment, realizing that he was almost shaking from the seething anger running through him. His hands were gripping the stone railing before him so hard that his knuckles were turning white, and his nails were grounding to dust. He took a deep breath, relaxed, and turned slowly towards the voice that addressed him.

The butler of the house. Marcus. Dressed in white and black, gold buttons for the tunic, and crisp black shoes that snapped when he walked. He stood at attention, his hands clasped behind his back, and stared over his master’s shoulder as he spoke, never making eye contact.

”Sir, sorry to disturb you. But the halfling has returned and brings with him your son, Arutha.”

All anger flew from Darien as he took in Marcus’ words. ”Arutha? Arutha is alive?”
”Yes sir. Alive and well, it seemed to me.”

Darien’s face lit up, and a smile took away the wrinkled lines from the corners of his eyes, and even seemed to take away a few of the years he wore.

”Well damnit –all man! Bring him in! Bring him in! No son of mine has to wait for my permission to enter!”

”I just didn’t want to shock you, father, and risk having your heart do a number on you.” Arutha strolled through the door Marcus had left open, followed by Tirith. He had taken the afternoon to clean, scrubbing the dried dirt and grime that had clung to his skin during his travels. His hair was slicked back, and Tirith had furnished him with fine robes from the linens, leaving him to look as well as any noble son could.

Darien laughed…louder, and harder, than he had in months. He quickly closed the gap and embraced his youngest son, hugging him hard to his chest, slapping his back, feeling how lean Arutha had become.

”My thanks for the precaution. My heart has had enough numbers because of your disappearance. The city was searched high and low before the Callums…”

”I know father. Before the Callums took control of the guard. Tirith caught me up with the events that have taken place in my absence.”

Darien nodded sagely, glancing at the halfling and giving a greeting nod before returning his attention to Arutha. ”Then you know how dire things seem. The Callums have been very swift and very cunning these past few weeks. I knew something was wrong when much of their enterprises seemed to go under and were sold off… But I, nor none of our agents, could have imagined them taking control of the guard. The Council has met daily to address this issue, but the Callums refused to talk. They have even stopped sending their representative.”

Darien turned away from Arutha and gazed out the window once again, while Arutha watched his father with a pained look of concern. The stress in his father was evident, and he could see the age returning to the old man.

The gray hair was becoming white, and his lips had come to look cracked. Even his eyes, normally bright with an intensity and passion for his daily work, seemed rather dulled by the stresses he experienced. Arutha had never seen him look so lost or so hopeless. Not even when his wife…Arutha’s mother…had passed into the unknown from sickness.

”I fear,” Darien continued, ”that the Callums may attack openly, soon. Lines are being drawn, and the Council is becoming divided. I have done all that I can to keep the representatives together, but…”

Arutha stepped forward and placed a hand on his father’s shoulder. ”Father. Do not despair. You have done your best. You wrought this Council with your own hands, and they will listen to you. The city will rise against the Callums and claim the peace in which you’ve fought so hard to make. Do not despair father… There is no man better suited to make things right.”

Darien smiled, sadly, at Arutha before clasping his son’s shoulder in return. ”My dear boy. I thank you for your kind words, and the hope you speak of. But I’m afraid it will take more than a man to stand against the troubling times ahead.”