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Before the Storm: Act 11, Chapter 17
🕑 Added 2025-09-19 10:25:03 +0000 UTCA blood-curdling scream cut through the air, echoing off the nearby buildings before being swallowed by the morning mist. From his perch overlooking a small plaza in the western part of Re-Blumrushur, Liam watched as the source of the scream – a middle-aged woman carrying a bucket of water – dropped said bucket and fainted dead away. She wasn’t the first to do so.
As dawn broke over the city, no less than seven women had come across the scene to similar results. They still lay where they had fallen; none were brave enough to move them.
Usually, when there was an incident, a crowd of curious and concerned onlookers would inevitably gather. Not in this case, however. Anyone who took in the scene either fainted like the women below or fled, often throwing up in the process. An eerie silence had fallen over the square. Storefronts remained closed, and every window was tightly shuttered. Not that Liam could blame them.
The everyday mundanity of the humble plaza was nowhere to be seen, replaced by what could only be described as a nightmare. Dismembered corpses decorated the square, their various pieces impaled on poles or tangled in the branches of budding trees. Entrails were strung from building to building like so many festive streamers, dripping blood upon the cold cobblestones below.
To add to the ‘materials’ Liam had procured, the Shadow Demon had thoroughly ransacked the place. Market stalls that had been neatly packed away for the night lay in splintered pieces, and great gashes tore open the pavement. Splashes of crimson highlighted the devastation, seemingly the product of an artist gone mad.
Not that Liam thought it was a bad thing. In fact, the result would likely far exceed his initial goals.
An hour later, the sound of approaching hoofbeats drew Liam to the east side of the square. A single Laval Knight appeared, followed by a small column of armsmen. They stopped well before entering the plaza, their expressions a mix of horror and disgust.
“By the gods–”
The Knight’s exclamation was interrupted by the sound of one of his men losing his breakfast. He was immediately joined by several others. The Knight wheeled his mount around.
“Summon a Priest from the cathedral,” he ordered. “This is the doing of no man. You, inform the Count of…this.”
Two armsmen turned to run back towards the city core. The first to return brought a Priest of the Earth God with him, who paled at the sight ahead. He covered his nose and mouth with a sleeve.
“This is beyond me,” the Priest said. “The Vicar should be told of this.”
“Then do so,” the Knight said impatiently.
“The Vicar will not be available until the afternoon…”
“Then bring someone who can do something about this!” The Knight snapped, “We can hardly leave the plaza in this state.”
Liam frowned as he listened in on the discussion. While they didn’t believe that Angels were messengers of the gods, as many in the Theocracy supposedly did, the heretics harboured all sorts of other superstitious nonsense. Not that he minded at this point. The bigger a deal they made out of it, the better.
The next to arrive was Count Laval, who came in a carriage escorted by Sir Terrence and a dozen other retainers. The nobleman wrinkled his nose at the stench in the air as he stepped out of his vehicle.
“Why is it still like this?” The Count demanded, “Clean it up, immediately!”
Lord Laval frowned at the visible hesitation of his men.
“It may not be safe to do so, my lord,” the Knight said.
“Not safe?” The Count narrowed his eyes, “What do you mean by that, Sir Philip?”
“This is clearly not the work of some common criminal,” Sir Philip replied. “With what happened to Sir Terrence…”
“Are you suggesting this is the work of a Demon?”
“If not a Demon, then those whose interests are aligned. Given how it all looks, they may have summoned another.”
Behind Lord Laval’s shoulder, Sir Terrence shifted nervously, his eyes darting about. He wasn’t alone in his trepidation. The Count, however, scoffed.
“If it were so easy to summon a Demon,” he said, “the city would be infested with them. There must be a rational explanation for this. Have you identified the remains?”
“Not yet, my lord.”
The Count put on an exasperated expression.
“Then get to it! Standing around gains us nothing.”
“At once, my lord.”
Lord Laval returned to his carriage, leaving his retainers to stand warily in the street. The presence of a Noble and his armsmen failed to draw the citizens out from hiding, creating an eerie atmosphere even as the sun banished the last of the morning mist.
Ten minutes passed before Sir Philip returned to knock on the window of the Count’s carriage.
“The remains in the square, my lord,” the Knight said. “They’re our men. All of them.”
“What?! Are you certain of that?”
“They…they were all men serving on my watch,” Sir Philip replied. “I initially discovered what happened while searching for a patrol that was late in reporting to the gatehouse. Their remains are strewn about in an abhorrent display, but at least their faces are still recognisable.”
The Count clicked his tongue. Sir Terrence cleared his throat.
“My lord, this may lend some credence to what was discussed the other day when I arrived at the city.”
“You mean that nonsense about the Undead?”
“The part about Demons, my lord,” Sir Terrence said.
“But you banished the Demon that incited the rebels,” Lord Laval noted.
“Maybe a Wizard did it,” Sir Philip said. “Have we slighted one somehow?”
“House Laval has never had any dealings with those effeminate charlatans,” the Count sniffed. “No right-minded man puts any stock in such conjurers of cheap tricks.”
“Then perhaps a cult,” Sir Terrence said. “They may have summoned the one that corrupted the rebels in Laval, and then tried to do the same thing here.”
“It’s possible,” Sir Philip said. “The way the remains of our men are arranged in the square…it could have been an evil ritual. The damage to the place is inhuman.”
Liam ducked as the members of Lord Laval’s escort looked nervously up at the surrounding buildings. He wasn’t sure he liked the way the conversation was going. On one hand, they seemed convinced there was an imminent danger. On the other, it was yet to be seen how the citizens would react.
“First Wizards,” Lord Laval grated, “now cultists. Cultists! Why hasn’t a Priest been summoned? This is clearly the purview of the Temples.”
“One came by earlier,” Sir Philip said. “He went to fetch the Vicar…wait.”
The Knight raised his hand to motion for silence. An odd scraping sound filled the air, as if someone was dragging their boots over the cobblestones.
“Crossbows!” Sir Philip called out.
Two armsmen stepped forward, sending a pair of quarrels up the street. Lord Lava sneered as a gust of wind scattered the remains of the disintegrating Zombie.
“Preposterous,” he spat. “Get that mess cleaned up before the city is overrun.”
The Count returned to his carriage, and his carriage returned to the upper city. Liam lingered for a while longer, watching Laval’s men retch and faint as they struggled to clear the square. In the end, Vicar Emberson never showed up.
Back in the Beaumont Faction’s jurisdiction, Countess Beaumont had already taken over for the night watch. Baroness Illerand was in the gatehouse with her, as well as Baron Lepin, a somewhat short man with curly blonde hair who administered a territory across the river from Beaumont County. The Countess smiled in greeting as he joined them in the captain’s office.
“Mister Liam,” she said, “I missed you at breakfast.”
“The city seems to have had a busy night, my lady,” Liam replied.
Lady Beaumont tilted her head curiously.
“Is that so? Everything appears to be in good order here. Should I be worried about anything?”
“There were a few disturbing incidents,” Liam said, “but they’re the responsibility of the other factions. Actually, they might even get mad at us if we poke our noses into their business.”
He figured it was better that Lady Beaumont and her allies were better off not knowing what was happening to make their reactions more authentic. Of course, he would have to inform them of a few things before the rebels arrived to avoid unfortunate accidents.
“We’re hardly at the luxury to do so at any rate,” the Countess said. “If the citizens weren’t cooperating so nicely, we’d be utterly overwhelmed.”
“I guess that means we’re doing something right,” Liam said. “Did anyone leave the city this morning, my lady?”
“Two Merchants delivering iron over the pass,” the young noblewoman said with a sigh. “It’s hard to believe it’s nearly that time of the year.”
“One can only hope we’ll be allowed to return to our fiefs soon,” Baron Lepin said. “Those ironmongers will do everything in their power to avoid paying taxes.”
“Wait,” Liam said, “doesn’t Beaumont County have iron mines? Why are they delivering it from the city?”
“Because they have a license to do so,” Lord Lepin shrugged. “The Merchants working in our area deliver the resources we produce to the city, and then the Merchants in the city redistribute them to the rest of the March.”
Liam stared blankly at the Baron’s explanation. It didn’t make any sense.
“What Lord Lepin means to say,” Lady Beaumont said, “is that House Blumrush has the local guilds in his pocket.”
“So it’s some sort of arrangement,” Liam said.
“It is with most things when it comes to the Marquis. Most of the production in the Azerlisian Marches has to go to Re-Blumrushur under the pretence of ensuring fair redistribution of territorial resources. This just so happens to also boost revenues from customs.”
“But aren’t those crown taxes?” Liam asked.
“Oh, I’m sure that some of what’s collected eventually finds its way into the royal coffers,” Baron Lepin answered with a vague wave of his hand.
In hindsight, he should have expected as much. House Blumrush always seemed to go out of its way to enrich itself, often while making as many of its subjects as miserable as possible.
“Lady Beaumont,” an armsman called out from the door, “a rider is coming from the upper city. I think it’s Sir Damien.”
The three Nobles exchanged looks before going down the stairs to meet the Blumrush Knight. By the looks of him, he wasn’t in any mood to exchange pleasantries.
“Countess Beaumont,” he said from the back of his mount, “Lord Reginald has called for an emergency meeting.”
“May I inquire as to the nature of this meeting, Sir Damien?” Countess Beaumont asked.
Sir Damien frowned slightly, as if wondering why she had asked about something obvious. After a glance at their surroundings, his expression grew contrite.
“A series of dire incidents occurred last night,” he said. “Has nothing out of sorts happened in your jurisdiction, my lady?”
“Nothing worth reporting, as far as I can tell,” Lady Beaumont replied. “We made sure that our men understood the importance of their vigilance for this task.”
“I see. Well, at least we have that much. Lord Reginald expects the leaders of each faction to be present at the castle’s great hall within the hour.”
“I will be there, Sir Damien. Will anything be required for this meeting?”
“An account from the night’s watch will do, my lady. While nothing seems to have happened here, the information may still be useful.”
With that, the Knight wheeled his mount around and returned to the upper city. Baron Lepin rubbed his jaw thoughtfully.
“This must be serious indeed,” he said. “That man is usually all about observing proper decorum in the presence of highborn ladies. I suppose I should have our men examine the streets more closely if it’s come to this.”
“Please do, Lord Lepin,” the Countess said. “Illerand, will you be alright taking care of the gate without me?”
The Baroness nodded. Lady Beaumont smiled and turned to face Liam.
“Well,” she said, “shall we?”
A bit under an hour later, Liam found himself in front of Castle Blumrush with Lady Beaumont and Claire. The Countess had spent most of that hour getting into a new spring dress she had ordered from a local Tailor. Liam couldn’t decide whether it was an excessive purchase or not: she had gotten the thing in exchange for two weeks of food for the Tailor and his family, which was far cheaper than it would have been in normal circumstances.
“Everyone’s sure up in arms,” Claire said. “I wonder what’s happened.”
Lord Reginald’s reaction to the night’s occurrences was plain for all to see. There were twice as many men on the wall as usual, and every one of them was fully armed and armoured. This came at the expense of the inner city wall, which had lost as many men as the castle had gained.
Once the armsmen at the gate made extra sure that no one dangerous would be entering, Liam followed the Countess as she was led by a footman through the courtyard and into the keep. Lord Reginald awaited at the head of a heavy cedar table, at which were also seated the leaders of the other factions. Additionally, the Masters of both the Merchant and Adventurer Guilds were present. The Countess lowered her head in a deep curtsey.
“Good morning, my lords. Am I the last to arrive?”
Lord Reginald snorted.
“If only that were the case, my lady,” he said. “That Vicar is still nowhere to be seen.”
“The Vicar has yet to show his face today,” Count Laval grumbled.
Why do they keep asking for the Vicar?
Just like the Temple of the Six, a Vicar was a deputy of a senior office in the Temple of the Four. Since he was serving in a major city’s cathedral, there should have been a Bishop he was working for.
“Regrettably,” Lady Beaumont said, “I must inform you that the chance that he will be present is slim. Vicar Emberson rarely, if ever, appears in public before noon.”
“Worthless!” Lord Reginald threw up his hands, “What is the point of the Temples if they don’t show up when they’re needed? The fault lies squarely on their shoulders if the city is overrun by Demons.”
“Demons?” The Countess frowned.
Lord Reginald gestured for Lady Beaumont to take her seat, which was the least among the High Nobles assembled, but above the representatives of the city. Aside from Lord Reginald’s place at the head of the table, the most prominent position was filled by Count Forbin, whose faction policed the inner part of the city’s common area. Count Laval and Count Monfort, who were responsible for the northeast and western quarters respectively, came after him.
“Lady Beaumont,” Lord Reginald said, “Sir Damien has informed me that nothing undue has occurred under your watch. Can you be certain of this?”
“Baron Lepin is in the process of examining our jurisdiction more closely, Lord Reginald,” Lady Beaumont said. “Barring any findings on his part, we have no reason to believe that anything has happened.”
“Then I can only hope that this remains the case,” Lord Reginald said. “A series of incidents has occurred along the wharf and in the western portions of the city. More than a score of armsmen have been slain.”
The young noblewoman raised a hand to cover her lips, her eyes widening in shock.
“May the gods watch over their unfortunate souls,” she intoned. “Have the fiends responsible for these foul deeds been apprehended?”
“Fiends have nothing to do with what occurred on the wharf,” Count Monfort said. “It was merely a gang of Rogues breaking into the warehouse row and adding the unprovoked murder of good men to their acts of larceny. What happened on the west end of the city, on the other hand…”
Count Laval visibly bristled as Count Monfort shifted the discussion to him.
“Rumours of Fiends are nothing more than that: rumours.” He said, “While certainly abhorrent, there exists little to suggest that what occurred last night was the doing of a Demon.”
“My sources say otherwise, Lord Laval,” Lord Monfort said. “I have it on good word that the plaza was turned into the site of a demonic ritual: one that was successful, judging by the damage done to the area.”
“It seems that Lord Monfort’s sources count among their number a disturbed child with an overactive imagination,” Lord Laval said. “Have you any real evidence to support these insane suppositions? If a Demon had truly been unleashed upon the city, we would be having this discussion atop a pile of flaming rubble right now.”
“Not if this Demon has greater designs upon the region,” Lord Monfort said. “One does not need to look far back to understand where the source of our troubles lies. I would not be in the least surprised if a profane temple has been raised in Laval: one where cultists sacrifice dozens of women and children daily upon its dark altar.”
Count Forbin slammed his palms on the table.
“Enough! Can you not see that you are distressing the Countess? You must forgive these two old boars, my lady. They’ve been absent the company of the gentler sex for so long that they’ve entirely forgotten how to conduct themselves in a lady’s presence.”
Count Laval and Count Monfort stared daggers at Count Forbin. Lord Reginald cleared his throat.
“At present, my only concern is to keep the situation in the city under control. How have the night’s events affected your ability to maintain order?”
“There is no change with my men, of course,” Lord Forbin said. “At least insofar as our ability to police our own jurisdiction.”
Lord Forbin’s subtle insinuation was not lost on the others.
“Those responsible for the heinous crimes committed along the wharf will be brought to justice,” Lord Monfort said. “A suitable demonstration will keep the peons in line.”
“I do not foresee any issues arising in the west,” Lord Laval said.
“Aside from the ones caused by Demons,” Lord Monfort muttered under his breath.
The Master of the Merchant Guild raised his hand.
“Speak, Guildmaster Rivard,” Lord Reginald said.
“Thank you, Lord Reginald,” the stout middle-aged man said as he rose to his feet. “Many of our members have voiced concerns over how the city has been policed over the past day or so. They are doing their best to accommodate things in these admittedly strange circumstances, but the demands being placed on them often ask for too much. Warehouses and their inventories have been seized. Family members, particularly girls and young women, have been abducted. Those who have returned…”
Guildmaster Rivard glanced at Lady Beaumont, letting his words trail off with a sad shake of his head.
“Would you say that the crimes committed in Lord Monfort’s jurisdiction were incited by these troubling acts?” Count Laval asked.
“I cannot say for certain, my lord,” the Guildmaster answered. “Due to the hardships endured over the winter, the citizens as a whole are desperate enough to turn to thievery for survival. As for the dead armsmen…many of our members face ruin because what little is left of their inventories was seized. Their wives and daughters were kidnapped and assaulted. Two of the girls who were rescued drowned themselves in the river shortly after–”
“Silence!” Lord Monfort roared, “I will no longer suffer this insidious slander! Our men have treated the citizens under our care no less preciously than our very own subjects, yet all we receive in thanks are these vicious accusations! Lord Reginald, I see no purpose in the presence of this man if all he seeks is to spew falsehoods against loyal vassals of House Blumrush.”
Lord Reginald rose from his seat, gesturing for calm.
“It’s clear that this affair has been taxing for everyone,” he said. “The confusion created in its aftermath is also apparent. We will reconvene in the evening for dinner. I trust that your reports will be more coherent once you’ve had the time to straighten things out.”
With that, the all-too-short and none-too-useful meeting was adjourned. Countess Beaumont was escorted back out to the castle gate, where they boarded her carriage. The young noblewoman kept stealing furtive glances at him once they were underway.
“What?” Liam asked.
“Does Lady Albedo have a dark altar?”
“She has a desk,” Liam told her. “A brown one.”
Was that what she had been thinking about the entire time? While it was true that she wasn’t accustomed to being around Demons, Devils, and other beings that people usually feared, the ramblings of Count Monfort seemed far too silly to take seriously.
“I’d be more concerned about what the other Nobles are doing,” Liam said. “It’s like they’re ignoring their problems.”
“I doubt that they are,” Lady Beaumont said. “It’s just that there is little profit in appearing weak in court.”
“Is this really the time to be politicking?” Liam asked, “They’re in enough trouble as it is.”
“It’s to be expected, isn’t it?”
Liam shook his head in disbelief. Not that the behaviour in itself was unbelievable. People did stupid things all the time, but he expected better out of someone who was entrusted with the task of governance. Even the evil and corrupt had to have some sense of self-preservation.
Was it because they believed themselves immune to the consequences? As far as he knew, the Nobles ruled as they pleased and only their peers were considered threats. They had come out of the annual battles with the Empire unscathed, even if their levies hadn’t. Famine ravaged the realm, displacing countless people, yet they remained strangers to hunger and homelessness.
Not that it would matter for long. King Ramposa might have been too weak to enforce his crown laws, and the people too weak, divided, and insular to affect any change, but with the Sorcerous Kingdom would come the justice that was long due. As he saw it, it was not an ultimatum that spurred the rebellion in the Azerlisian Marches, but an act of mercy: one last chance for the people to reject their heresy before judgement was passed upon Re-Estize.
Galvanised by his realisation, he walked out into the city rather than waiting for Lady Beaumont to change back into her previous outfit. The scene just outside the upper city gate seemed normal enough, but as his steps brought him westward, the streets grew quieter. By the time he reached the western quarter of the city, not a single citizen could be seen.
“Is there something I can do for you, footman?”
Liam made his way across the intersection to where a single armsman sporting Laval colours stood watch over the surroundings.
“Our men reported, well…this,” Liam said with a gesture to the empty surroundings. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing to be concerned about,” the armsman said. “The citizens heard what happened in Monfort’s jurisdiction, and now they’ve gone into hiding.”
“Was it that bad?” Liam asked.
“It gets worse the more I hear about it,” the armsman answered. “Some cultists came up the river and kidnapped a bunch of girls to sacrifice in some dark ritual. Monfort’s men didn’t do anything about it. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were in on whatever evil those guys were up to.”
“That’s crazy,” Liam said, wide-eyed.
“Monfort and his followers have always been a vile lot. If I were you, I’d station my men in the east just in case those fiends try something else.”
Liam nodded and thanked the man before retreating to the Beaumont faction’s jurisdiction. Count Laval couldn’t have possibly beaten him back to the lower city, so were his men just making things up on a whim? Maybe they had been instructed to spread their misinformation before the meeting in Blumrush Castle.
He returned to the southern gate to find out what the men had heard while he had been away. He found Baron Lepin on the wall near the gatehouse, warming himself in front of a nearly spent brazier. The Baron nodded to Liam as he approached.
“Mister Liam,” he said. “How did the meeting go?”
“It wasn’t much of a meeting, Lord Lepin,” Liam replied. “The highlight was probably Count Laval and Count Monfort hurling accusations across the table at one another. Lord Reginald decided to resume the meeting in the evening.”
“Is that so?” The Baron seemed to deflate slightly, “I suppose my anticipation over the results was a bit too optimistic.”
“Optimistic, my lord? About what?”
The young nobleman’s gaze went to the distant pass in the south.
“Oh, you know. Just our situation in general. Our faction has never before reached this level of prominence. We may rule over the southern third of the March, but our economic and political clout is nearly inconsequential compared to the lowland factions. Trouble for them could only be a boon for us, or so I thought.”
Maybe Nobles were always like that. Even in times of crisis, their heads were seemingly filled with political calculations.
“What did our men hear from theirs?” Liam asked, “The way that the meeting went, I couldn’t figure out who was telling the truth.”
“I’m sure at least a tiny bit of the truth was mixed in,” Lord Lepin said, “but only enough of it to support their respective positions. What did they say?”
“Well, Count Laval basically accused Count Monfort of being unfit for taking care of his part of the city. Count Monfort said some crazy things about Demons being summoned and House Laval being in league with evil cultists. Guildmaster Rivard reported his members’ findings, and they seemed to support Count Laval’s accusations.”
“I see. That seems to be about the right level of antagonism one would expect between Laval and Monfort. As for the Guildmaster…I’m afraid that was a severe misplay on his part. He should have known better.”
They both turned at the sound of a carriage approaching from the inner city. Baroness Illerand came out of the customs office to greet Countess Beaumont as she disembarked, after which the both of them ascended the stairs of the gatehouse to join Liam and Baron Lepin on the wall.
“Welcome back, Countess Beaumont,” Lord Lepin bowed slightly. “I’ve heard from Mister Liam that the meeting wasn’t a very productive one.”
“I suppose that would about sum things up, yes,” Lady Beaumont replied. “But we can at least be thankful that the problems they were attempting to address had nothing to do with us…”
A frown marred the young noblewoman’s expression as she looked past them. Further along the wall, one of her armsmen was sprinting their way.
“We’ve got trouble!” He said before coming to a full stop in front of them, “Monfort’s hung Guildmaster Rivard at the docks. The citizens’re startin’ to riot!”
To the east, wisps of black smoke started to rise from beyond the nearby rooftops. Baron Lepin took in the sight with a wry smile.
“There, now, what did I say? A severe misplay indeed.”
Comments
Valguris
Creating a scene meant to spread fear may be useful for Assasins. Will Liam learn from the Shadow Demon and do these kinds of jobs himself in the future, or will he remain reliant on the Shadow Demon? Will he always be accompanied by a Shadow Demon?
Blink Dog 1999
While it has definitely been true for our world that by pure numbers the lower 99% would overrun the top 1%, the New World is a nightmare for the weak and paradise for the strong or „elite“. While places with VERY LOW levels like Re-Estize are the most like Earth in that enough numbers can overwhelm stronger opponents, even in those places seasoned and talented Knights and Warriors can be level 20 or higher and at that point they can slaughter a hundred or even several hundred level 1 starving peasants by themselves. A level 30 Warrior like Gazef is the equivalent of 5,000 level 1 peasants. While the peasantry COULD perhaps win, it would be suicide as the country would be massively depopulated and subsequently conquered by their neighbors.
John E vanidestine
Doesn't matter if it's modern Russia, or fantasy world the people have their breaking point. Everyday always talks about the top 1% of the population. Unfortunately the top 1% keep forgetting about the other 99%. Buy pure numbers they should know better.
