Silver Blades: Plate Male

Nine

Pertuli.

Advancing toward the heart of the city's power, I thundered down deceptively quiet alleys in Ginnilis' silver armor. Each calamitous step took me closer to the Roggarth Palace, and where shadows confronted me, I challenged them to disgorge a still living Riposte. Screams and clashes of steel echoed toward me, painting a landscape of hate and turmoil on the nightscape, and hung thickly in the fog like the very anticipation of doom.

I was an unwanted witness to ghastly revels as I emerged into the amber light of Palace Wall Street. Teams of ruffians and armed peasants were endeavoring to force entry into many of the ward's estates. The night's violence goes further than the weresaur outbreak. Looters and thieves, availing themselves of the chaos, no doubt. They threatened the private men-at-arms and pounded on the iron bound doors protecting rich palazzos and upscale town homes. Several buildings had been set to burn, and the hellish flames obscuring my radiance sight silhouetted gangs that danced in the street like clans of hunting goblins.

I could hardly reconcile the sheer numbers involved in the unrest with the peaceful city I knew, so I paid them no mind. Once the true threat was dealt with, these rioters would desist.

An inconsequential blow fell on my shoulder, but with a fierce glare that returned my assailant to the shadows, I ignored that too. Armored as I was, it would take a more determined foe to do aught but annoy me, and the untrained throng was wary of my gleaming blade.

The Ward Guard was clearly occupied elsewhere, and for some time, if they were leaving the town's gentry to fend for themselves. Red capes were everywhere; a fortune in dye clothing the raving minions of a hopeless revolt. Those red capes... could my initial assumptions be in error?

I rushed on, following the palace wall eastward, only to discover the gate open and breached.

The lookouts at the gate could be dealt with in a moment. Even with appropriated weapons and wearing discarded helms and shields, unprofessional human thugs were beneath my notice. The lizard, a slick black shape in the radiance shadows across the square, could pose a more significant problem. It paced like a bipedal menace, twenty four hands or more of hulking muscle and swishing scales. Even at range, I felt its crimson eyes bear down on me.

I charged the gate, avoiding eye contact with the beast. I'm here for my win, I thought at the "guards" with a grim smirk. I made enough noise to warn them I was coming.

The thin man on the left, whose oversized helm rattled as he went erect with surprise, gave a startled shriek and bolted at the sight of me. The thicker man on the right made a show of bravery, even leveling his stolen halberd to intercept my charge. Somewhere behind me, there was a hiss of movement.

I leaped into the attack, deflecting the axe point past my left arm and hooking my elbow around the man's neck. Though he was taller and heavier, my inertia brought his head back and forced his weapon up in time to impale the weresaur following me. It screamed hideously as its bulk was forced down the spear tip and onto the axe blade where its attack was necessarily halted. The ash staff of the halberd sagged under the weight, but planted against the palace wall as it was, the lizard could move no further toward me.

"Kalithra save me!" the guard screamed, finding himself prone and weaponless under the enraged monster. He left me holding the weapon and scurried away on his back, following his comrade into the courtyard within. I wasn't in much better straights. I desperately parried the beast's madly thrashing claws. Everywhere I cut, slapped or punched, the foul smoke of burning flesh wafted away, but as the lizard slowly sank further onto the axe blade, it was able to bring more of its muscle and claws to bear.