Age of Conan
Chapter I:
A white-cloaked figure moved easily through Khemi’s twisting maze of streets and alleys, even in the oppressive darkness derived from the night’s moonless sky. Any thoughts of besetting this traveler quickly slipped away from the minds of those who would attempt it, as the coiled strength hidden in the movements of the figure identified the stranger as more than capable of wielding the large two-handed sword strapped across the figure’s back. The cloaked figure walked up the short set of wide stairs towards the entrance of a relatively large building and continued past the two guards and through the main archway.
“The cabal continues to grow increasingly careless,” thought the cloaked figure, as she drew back the hood revealing a woman with piercing amber eyes, set in a tanned face marked with the Kiss of Set, and framed by wavy, silvery-white shoulder-length hair. “The guards no longer even stop to question those that enter. I must raise this issue during the council.” Vanelli stepped through the entranceway into a large circular shaped room. Several rows of sturdy wooden benches were arrayed in semicircles along the side walls, leaving a large area free in the middle of the room.
“Hail, Vanelli!” shouted a member of the cabal from across the hall. Vanelli nodded, crossed the hall and sat down to the left of him. “How goes it this night, Riban?” asked Vanelli. “All goes well, Vanelli,” replied Riban. “Where is that old fool Tola? He is the only one who has not yet arrived!” shouted a younger member of the cabal. “Except this growing animosity within the cabal,” muttered Vanelli. “Those in favor of starting the meeting without To…” the shout became a gurgling as the young Herald grasped at the crossbow bolt protruding from his throat.
The thwack, thwack, thwack of bolts being loosed from their crossbows echoed through the hall. Vanelli instinctively ducked to the right as a dagger aimed at the base of her neck missed its target but succeeded in drawing a red line of blood across her left shoulder. In her duck to the right she noticed that her companion was dead, slumped forward with a crossbow bolt protruding through the middle of his back and out the front. Turning the duck into a roll, Vanelli drew Riban’s dagger from his left hip and with a twist of the body, aimed a vicious backhand strike towards the face of the assassin. The assassin staggered back, barely getting his right blade up in time to parry her backhand, causing him to drop the blade. Vanelli pushed the attack, knowing that her opponent had lost his element of surprise, as well as one of his blades. Vanelli pushed aggressively forcing the assassin to defend high to the right and then low to the left. “This kill is yours Riban,” thought Vanelli , as she lunged, aiming a jab at the assassins’ chest. The assassin moved to parry, but in mid thrust, Vanelli altered the path of the dagger, aiming high and to the right; she turned the blade to the left, into the right side of the assassin’s neck. The assassin slumped dead and Vanelli withdrew her blade.
Vanelli quickly surveyed the macabre scene. The screams of the dying and the smell of blood and fear permeated the air. Dozens of her fellow heralds lay dead from the initial surprise attack and several more would soon join them in their immediate fights. The remaining heralds were quickly losing ground to overwhelming numbers, each herald fighting two or more assassins. “Heralds to me!” shouted one of the surviving elders, in the midst of dodging a dagger thrust. Vanelli raised her dagger and heaved it across the hall catching the assassin in the chest as the elder brought his two-handed sword across the assassin’s neck, cleaving the head off in a spray of crimson. Vanelli drew the two-hander from her back and raced towards the elder trying to avoid slipping on the blood-slick floor. Three other heralds joined them, the other heralds unable to disengage and rapidly losing ground. “Fall back to the inner sanctum, the battle is lost,” said the elder resignedly. “I’ll hold them off.” The heralds ran for the opposite wall as the elder began chanting, calling upon the powers of his god Xotli. The heralds pushed open the door to the passageway leading into the inner sanctum of the brotherhood. The remaining heralds closed the door behind them and ran down the dimly lit corridor as the elder fully transformed into an avatar of Xotli.
The four surviving heralds emerged in a small dark chamber with a large altar devoted to Xotli at its center. A relief carving of Xotli appeared on each of the altar’s four faces. Vanelli placed two fingers into the mouth of the carving on the front face of the altar and flipped the hidden switch. A short grinding of stone revealed a set of stairs set into the ground behind the altar. “We split up the instant we come out of the other end of this tunnel; we now go into hiding.” said Vanelli as the heralds descended into the darkness of the tunnel.
End of Chapter I.
Tags:
backstory, roleplaying
