Shadow of the Ivory Citadel - Chapter I

CHAPTER I: At the Gates of Yol'gan

Ayas'yasti Xyrrai'zestu Sharen rode through the streets of the underground city of Yol'gan upon her dragon, accompanied by a tattooed, dark haired male behind her. The sight of the foreign nobility drew out onlookers, surprised to see a dragon walking through the streets of their own city. Ayas'yasti herself possessed a tall, shapely frame which caught the eyes of male and female alike. Her long wavy grey hair contrasted with her lambent almond shaped red eyes. To complete her regal appearance, she wore the fine attire of a Sharen noblewoman,  her gown and cloak composed of brocaded silks and elaborate weaving. Her rich clothing did little to distract from the sheathed tulwar and dagger held in her girdle, each weapon shimmering with gold chasings and gems.

The Sharen noblewoman inwardly fumed over her assignment given to her by her grandmother. Being sent to discuss terms of trade and alliance with some uncultured outlander who had happened to stumble upon something of worth to the clan was hardly a task Ayas'yasti looked forward to. The warlord of Yol'gan, a certain Skol'kasai Val'Najial, was said to be the possessor of a library which held a great deal of information that would be of worth to the Sharen clan. Ayas'yasti's orders had been somewhat vague, as usual, but she knew that these manuscripts or artifacts were not just mere trinkets or writings of sentimental value. Ahead of her in the distance, amongst the rose-tinted spires of Yol'gan, stood the marble walls and towers of the Ivory Citadel of the Val'Najial atop a tall hill dominating the city. A single paved road led up the steep hill up to the bastion's heavy iron gates.

Ayas'yasti scowled as her red eyes took in the filthy streets before her. A gaunt, fungus infected male youth dressed in rags squatted beside an alleyway, begging for mere slivers of adamantium. The gutters of the streets flowed with effluent, and occasionally a band of ragged youths would run past, looking for easy marks. All stayed well enough away from the mounted Sharen, bowing their heads and remaining quiet as they passed the foreign nobles. Strength had the ability to speak for itself. The ruling Val'Najial clan cared only for their gain and that of their allies, and they said that the merchants and lesser clans suffered under the yoke of Ill'haress Skol'kasai. If this was representative of the land as a whole, Ayas'yasti saw no reason to doubt what she had heard.

“It's not all bad, Ayas'yasti. At least we're away from Chel...” mused the Sharen's male companion. The war had not been going well, but word had it Zala'ess had just arrived with allies from the west by the time the Sharen had set out. The tattooed male's blue skin showed ancestry from the Earth Tribe. He was of medium height, with stylishly wild dark blue hair, rings in his pierced ears, and bright green eyes. He carried a battle axe over his shoulder, riding on a dragon beside Ayas'yasti.

“Don't remind me of that, Lov'or'larl...” replied Ayas'yasti with a sigh. She had wanted to help stay and fight, but duty had called her and Lov'or'larl elsewhere. There was little point for her in resisting the wishes of her elders.

Finally, she thought to herself as she rode into a cleaner section of the city where the small Sharen delegation to the city had set up camp. This particular area had been granted  to the Illhar'dro clan to be used as a trading post for the merchant clan to sell their wares. The Sharen were allowed to set up in this area for foreign traders in their negotiations with the Val'najial clan. With a wave of her arm to the Sharen gate guard, Ayas'yasti and Lov'or'larl were allowed inside. Servants and slaves rushed about in the small encampment, the east and west sides clearly demarcated into Illhar'dro and Sharen areas. The buildings occupied by the Illhar'dro merchants and performers faced outwards to accommodate locals who wished to conduct business, whilst the Sharen occupied buildings faced inward to the Chelian section, as to keep commoners and unwanted outsiders away.

The duo handed off their dragon to servants at the stable before heading off towards the merchant's stalls. Perhaps there would be some goods here that were rare or non-existent in Chel'el'sussoloth? The market was indeed exotic, as drow in flamboyantly hued dress milled around carts and shops selling all manner of wares. Many natives of the area came here to shop for imported goods and to enjoy entertainment from afar. Artificial gardens were set up around the stores, giving the appearance of a surface forest surrounding the market. Fruit trees and flowers of all sorts hung over and beside shoppers as they made their way through the market, and fountains and streams murmured over the speech and sounds of the open market.

The sound of loud speech and laughter emanated from the open deck outside a pub, accompanied by the delicate sound of lyre strings coming from a stage within the establishment, as well as the sound of bone dice rattling on tables followed by curses and cheers. Ayas'yasti smiled despite the smell of cheap alcohol and lotus smoke; a good drink and music would prove to be an excellent relaxant after the long trip. The Vel'sharen had hardly taken two steps towards the pub before she saw something which caused her eyes to narrow and her fists to clench involuntarily. 

“Looks like we've got some trouble,” muttered Lov'or'larl. An emissary dressed in the markings of the Sarghress clan rode into view of the two Sharen. The emissary was a common-looking female dressed in what passed for finery among those associated with the Sarghress, and the sullen-eyed giants who accompanied her undoubtedly had to be Gimirri tribes-drow of some kind. A female and a male, quite clearly, with great swords hanging from their girdles and dressed in red dyed hides, cloaks, and armor. Both rode a great light grey furred wolf each while the emissary rode a common dawmere. No, it wasn't enough that they had to be Sarghress, composed of the roughest scum and mercenaries Chel had to offer, they had to bring some of those barbarians too. Likely they were those savage Am'saag from the wilderness that the Sarghress had seen fit to include among their common rabble of an army. The Gimirri tribes, of which the Am'saag were one, were infamous for their immense strength, ferocity, and brutality. Those uncouth brutes had to feel right at home with that rude, uncultured lout of a Ill'haress, Quain'tana.  At least Lov'or'larl had the common decency to dress as a civilized drow and to fight for the just side.

“You think they're here for the same thing we are?” asked Lov'or'larl. Before Ayas'yasti could speak her mind, the two Am'saag looked over in their direction, taking clear note of the Sharen on the street across from them. They appeared to converse amongst each other for a moment before heading on with their charge in tow.

“The Sharen followed us in. I wager they're interested in the Val'najial too,” grunted Tur'geis to his mate Die'tra and Sattrin, the ambassador who had accompanied them. He rested the palm of his right hand on the shagreen-bound hilt of his broadsword currently at his waist. The giant of a male's broad chest and powerful limbs set him apart from his surroundings, as did his lion-like mane of braided and red dyed hair and deep-set volcanic blue eyes. His mount, Bodark, sniffed the air in the Sharen's direction and growled.

“The male doesn't look that much like a Sharen, wonder what he's doing with her?” replied Die'tra, tossing her head to get her long white mane out of the way of her bronze colored face. Piercing green eyes stared out from the tall female dokkalvar's high cheekbones. Asena, Die'tra's loyal wolf, stayed close to Bodark. Both wolves had taken a liking to each other much as their riders had with each other.

“Let's stay clear of them. If they don't know we're here we can get on with our task,” muttered Sattrin, her purple eyes looking over the armed Sharen. Sattrin's voice trailed off as her bodyguards proceeded closer to the two Sharen. With an oath she followed them closely.

Ayas'yasti's red eyes narrowed as she turned to face the newcomers. Perhaps it'd be better to let them pass without any comment. But she couldn't let such an incident pass her by.

“Sharess, now we're in for it!” muttered Sattrin. Lov'or'larl would have shared her apprehension, but he managed to keep a steady face. His eyes did take in the voluptuous form of the female dokkalvar approaching him and his lover though. The former Black Sun did appreciate pretty sights, after all.

“They seem to be rather progressive in Yol'gan. It's not many places that let in barbarians much less Sarghress,” stated Ayas'yasti with mock incredulity.

Die'tra shrugged. “We don't ask if we want to go in or not, we simply go where we please. I'm certain you realize that!” she spoke with a clever smile, green eyes flashing as she pursed her thick red lips bemusedly. Without warning, she leaned in close towards Lov'or'larl, taking in his smell as if she was a blood hound. “So Yol'gans aren't the only ones with such views,” spoke the female Am'saag. Both of the war wolves growled as they nudged the two Sharen with their noses.

Lov'or'larl paid no heed to Die'tra's riposte. He had never bothered to hide his Black Sun heritage. He rested his hand on his axe by his side as he quickly thought of a retort. "C'mon, Ayas, your beast enemies have at least a little wit." It was at least better than nothing.

“Better a wild beast than a tamed pet,” spoke Tur'geis.

Ayas'yasti groaned internally. Just how many of these barbarians did the Sarghress hire?

“I am no more a pet than you are. We both serve other masters, do we not?” retorted Lov'or'larl, easily managing to keep his composure.

“I am Tur'geis of the Am'saag tribe. I serve no one,” Tur'geis uttered with confidence.

“One with no lady or clan to serve cannot be trusted,” shot back Ayas'yasti. What good was one who fought only for money and their personal honor?

“I trust him. That's enough,” spoke Die'tra, putting a final point on the argument.

“Come on...we've better things to do,” said Lov'or'larl, taking hold of Ayas'yasti's hand to pull her away from the two Am'saag. Ayas'yasti decided it was best to follow the former Earth Tribe member's advice and departed, halting only to say “Just stay out of our way” to the three Sarghress present.

“Getting sent here was a mistake,” grumbled Ayas'yasti, not bothering to look behind her at the Sarghress.

“You know better than I do that you should trust the clan leaders,” reminded Lov'or'larl, gently gripping the female's hand.

Ayas'yasti nodded, smiling a bit as she quickly recovered her composure. “Of course. It's not every day one gets to speak on your clan's behalf to a foreign ruler. I came here to negotiate on a position of strength.”

“Ah, and can the Sarghress do that as well as you can? Especially on an intellectual level?” said Lov'or'larl, raising a finger to his temples as they walked towards the castle.

“I don't know why they sent some Gimirri. Quain'tana or whoever made that decision must think Queen Skol'kasai is as low-class as they are...” mused the Sharen noblewoman.

“Well, Skol'kasai was just a common thief before she became Ill'haress.”

“That may be so. But her clan came to us, not the Sarghress. And I doubt she has any desire to see the Sarghress come here in force.” Power had a tendency to make ideology irrelevant.

“Do you think she could be playing us and the Sarghress off of each other?”

“Perhaps. But I doubt it. If we can make a better deal we could find ourselves with a strong ally, and with the library too. I know of a few back home who are interested in it...”

*

Sattrin rolled her eyes as she watched the Sharen depart. “Do you two do this often?” asked the diplomat nonchalantly.

“Very much so,” was Die'tra's quick reply.

“Felt like I could have a drink before then, doubly so now!” grunted Tur'geis, placing an arm about Die'tra's waist.

“You'll have to have mine too, remember?” reminded Die'tra, placing her hand over his and maneuvering it over her belly.

The male laughed. “Then I'll give it a pass this time around. Wouldn't be good for morale if I was the only one drinking,” Tur'geis spoke in a low rumble to Die'tra as he leaned in and kissed her, squeezing her hand firmly. That morning in Ys when Die'tra discovered she was pregnant was the happiest the couple had in a long while, despite the perceived ill omens of the airship and the obstinacy of the clan heir.

“Don't bother yourself all because of me!” chuckled Die'tra, resting her head on Tur'geis' shoulder. “How about we check out this market to pick something up for Aisha?”

“Good idea. Maybe we'll find something for the rest of the squad there too,” replied Tur'geis, holding his mate close. Both their mounts were taking the opportunity to enjoy their respective closeness as well.

“It might have to wait, you two,” reminded Sattrin. “We have someone to meet, remember?” She spurred her dawmere into action, going off ahead of the two Am'saag.

“It is still early in the day! We have time for a little shopping, don't we?” said Die'tra to her mate and squad leader, already knowing his answer.

“Aye, give the queen some time to wake up first, Sattrin, and in return we don't give the merchants a chance to clear their stock before we arrive! We won't be long,” spoke Tur'geis.

Sattrin considered objecting at first, but relented. After all, the markets here should have things rare back in her home of Chel'el'sussoloth. “Very well then. But let's not take too long!”