A Tightening Grip

[SotU]

The evening rubescent air illuminating the city of Port Revarine stops at the waters in the harborside. Danger lurks in the alley-ways as sailors, drunks, and ruffians wander the streets here, each with an agenda of ill-intentions. The Rusty Naill Tavern bustles with activity, seen from outside as they turn on candle lights. Ships pull in and out of the port every day, all day, leaving this evening to no exception as a merchant and his men are seen moving merchandise into the market square not too far away.

As night approaches at the harborside, numerous ships approach, large ones at that. Perhaps it's an ambassador sent to deliver a message? Privateers with a large find? Not often does the port see such a sight unless if they come bringing something of great importance from the rest of the world, particularly from the Empire's mainland. They sail into the docks, one by one in the night light. The banners now clearly resemble the Empire's mark, their insignia.

The ships remain there for the rest of the night and sail off on the following morning with little notice. People are left wondering. Questions are left unanswered. Who were these people? What did they bring? What did they take with them? And above all, why?

[SotU]

Months have passed since the dismissed encounter, and Revarine's streets continue to thrive til the sun sets. It's a cold night this late spring. A light shines brightly onto the dark cobble at the Black Cat's back door while Jessa is seen moving rubbish outside. She was left behind to close for the night. She stops for a moment to gaze down the unlit street going around the corner. A figure stood there. Her eyes caught the glimpse of something metallic on his person, reflecting light. He stands there in the shadows, watching, listening, waiting. Jessa squints to try and make him out but fails.

She calls, "Hello?" But no answer. He stands there, unmoving. Jessa's heart picks up. She's afraid yet unsure. Instinctively, she backs up a little towards the light, her eyes glued to the man. "Is somebody out there?" She calls again, shaking in the chilly night air.

"What is your name?" The man in darkness barks in a raspy yet soothing voice.

"What?" She hesitates, tilting her head. She's confused by the question, but responds anyways. "Oh. Jessa. Who... who are you?" He doesn't answer her. "It's freezing out tonight. Would you like to come in?" But he just stands. Frustrated, she continues on with her work, deciding to ignore him.

Clink! Clink! Clink! The metallic object on the man moves with him as he steps forward into the light. His figure is covered from head to toe in a long coat, his face shrouded in a hood. Jessa looks up to him as he approaches, standing up straight. He's very tall. She isn't sure if whether to smile or run inside. Either way, she again lets her instincts take a hold and she takes a few steps back towards the lit doorway.

The man slows for but a moment, holding up a gloved hand towards her as though to calm her. It doesn't work and Jessa instantly bolts inside, the man following her in with great haste. He catches up with little effort and grabs a hold of her arm. Using his momentum, he swings her around into the wall on the inside, holding her up against it. She shrieks but nobody can hear her cries for help.

With her pinned to the wall, he reaches up to her face and grabs hold of her lower jaw, moving it from side to side as though to take a good look at her face. She gazes under his hood as he does, unsure and afraid of his intentions, but his eyes are calm and his demeanor emotionless. He could only be a madman.

The following day, her employer found her dead in the kitchen. Jessa's intestines had been spilled onto the floor with a blade of some sort, and her tail had been severed. It's missing from the scene.

[SotU]

It's afternoon, two days after the murder. A single file of rugged citizens drags through the market square, shackled together. They're escorted to the Northern city gates by oddly armored guardsmen, and they stop to face the guillotine. The guards shove them into a line and a noble-looking man steps forward, holding a scroll. He paces back and forth in front, making eye contact with each one, and he smiles.

These people have homes. They have families. The scars they bare are a result of being torn from their homes and thrown out onto the public streets, and beaten by guardsmen and townsfolk alike. These people have given up on fighting back. They all know what is ahead of them now.

The nobleman steps to the side, and unravels the scroll, holding it up to read. He takes one last look at the prisoners but they stare at the cracks in the cobble.

He reads aloud to them and the following crowd, "By order of the Imperial Inquisition, in the name of the Emperor, a Reform of Faith has been declared. The reforms are as follows: The Erodemian army shall be directly dissolved into the Imperial Legions and fall into the command of the Inquisition itself. The city of Port Revarine and the province it inhabits shall have its defenses laid in the hands of the Baron only to the extent that it does not conflict with the will of the Inquisition. Those found practicing the magic of or worshiping the forces of Khaos shall be deemed treasonous and put to death post-haste." He pauses to look at the prisoners. Their fates are now sealed.