A few more days pass, with each morning, the war draws closer. Those who do not wish to sign the mages register, or are destined for other lands, not wishing to be trapped in the city when the time comes, have all been preparing to move out. The free people have been awarded unhindered movement around the outer district of the City, giving them access to traders of all manner, allowing them to restock and prepare for the journey.
On the morning of the fourth day, after meeting the King. There is a bellow of a horn, and the rush of troops moving to the outer walls. Citizens make their way into their homes and all that can be heard is the clattering of armour and the shouts of men and women giving orders. Only the odd word can be made out. Those listening can hear the cry of ‘‘Miiiist Waaalkers” Within a few moments a member of the ACPD comes crashing into the camp, looking around to the different awnings, the ferret-kin calls out.
“The walkers want to speak to you, comm’on, they are gonna close the gates otherwise.”
Any that would follow the beastkin will be lead to the main gate. Beside this, waiting are plated warriors garbed in the stark black and white robes of the church. Behind these troops, the old man, who carried away the chalice upon the hero’s arrival, glares at those that pass and gives a slight shake of his head.
Stood some distance away, the free peoples can see familiar shapes. White robed and hooded figures stand. A group of six, mist rolling around their feet coating a tiny area. They are stood completely motionless. Silver lines start upon their brow and travel down their cheek. The one that steps forward, many can recognise, five silver streaks mark this one’s face.
The moment there is movement there are additional shouts across the great walls of Afacia City. The priests fill the gap in the gate, hatred in their eyes as they stare at these otherworldly beings. The free people stride out to the no-mans-land between. Five calls out at the top of its voice to those in attendance.
“ War is nearly here. You have an invitation to decide the terms of this war moving forward, we may be fighting, but we are not uncivilised. If you do not attend we will assume that any method of warfare is on the table. The meeting will be held in Darkwood. You will not be harried on the paths there by our troops. Bring actual terms, we have no time for posturing or arrogance. She knows what each of you are capable of.”
Five takes a step back into the group. And they turn as one, walking back across the plains, slowly fading out of existence with each step until eventually a strong gust blows away the remaining mists. The world becomes a little duller, as clouds begin to move across the sun. There is the gentle patter of rain as the free people move back to into the City. The gates slamming behind them. No one shares a word, as the City holds its breath.
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