ARRIVAL
The Citadel was an immense structure - a black stone and marble tower, contrasting the white tundra at its base, the grey cliffs of Host at its back, like an immense throne. From the Citadel's highest keep, the Watchmen had an almost unbroken view of the three roads leading to the human Kingdom of Cleave, the many ballista and canon always eager to spew either poison or hot metal, yet continuously denied. However, the recent uprising of the Eastern Provinces against their Timbercrown Masters - the largest of the elven Kingdoms had drawn the humans into the conflict. It was this conflict and the need for rapid resolution that had summoned Lyra and her paige, Bris to the Citadel, before the whole continent was drenched in blood and fire.
Lyra and Bris were dressed in the black and silver chainmail tunics of their holy sect - Luna Sancta Virgo - the Mother Superior sending her best knight to assist Timbercorwn with intelligence gathering. These elven women had been trained in the arts of assassination and diplomacy, some said alchemy and propaganda - their voices never heard to those outside of the sect yet rumoured to be utterly destructive should they speak. Many times they were sent to breed with Timbercrown men of great standing or valour, it was the only way they could replenish their numbers. Male offspring were returned to their fathers, the daughters indoctrinated and honed into a new generation of holy warriors. Their chainmail tunics hid their true beauty - all one could see were their eyes - usually grey, green or violet - and their hair, worn in either long braids or short locks, matching the eye colour perfectly. Either way, this small glimpse of these women were enough to enchant most human men, many becoming hard upon receiving a fleeting gaze, the pinnacle of sexual conquest for most men, yet an abyss from which none had ever told tales.
The black gates of the Citadel remained closed as the two women stood in front of it, the flurries of snow gently falling around them. Lyra hated the cold, even through the under layers of fur, her body chilled and shivered, the extra warmth of her species' natural body heat the only thing keeping her from freezing. Bris was dressed similarly but the younger women had forgone some of the undergarments - not only was she extra cold but her nipples brushed against her armour in a painfully pleasant way, causing her to smile and her brown skin to be flush.
"Not the time to be horny, Bris. Focus. Remember not to speak to ANYONE - use the hand speak, the human and eleven generals understand it. And for the love of Luna, please do NOT make eye contact with the young human guards - they'll swoon and go into a trance. Last thing we need is paranoid human women saying we're bewitching their men" Luna's voice commanded.
Bris looked at her, eyes longing for more chances to speak about their mission. "Just one question. Have you ever done this before? I mean, actual combat missions? I know I'm not supposed to question you but this is not home, the place isn't warm and wet, it's cold and dry. How do we know we'll be of use?"
Lyra was annoyed with her paige's naivety. Yet, she did avoid all talk of the mission during the three week journey here. For the first time in those three weeks she made eye contact with her companion: "Yes, I have. Been in battle. Pray we don't have to draw weapons - it'll change you once you shed blood, be it man, elf, ogre, goblin. We succeed because we follow our Sect's Creed".
The gates slowly and nosily cracked open and a blonde, chirpy human female ushered them in.
SLIGHT EPXLORATION
"Wow! I have heard so much about you, well your Sect that is. Is it true that you have a vow of silence? Wait....you can't really answer that can you now. Oh! Is it true that you can coat any weapon in poison using a chant? Wait, again, you can't tell me directly....." The blonde girl kept on rambling, clearly star struck by Lyra and Bris, who themselves were observing the small town on the inside of the Citadel.
Lyra had expected it to be dirty and muddy, festering with disease and grimy men and creatures either wanting to fuck her or eat her - either option wasn't palatable. Bris expected the same, except that instead of grimy creatures, battle hardened soldiers and young recruits would be falling at her feet, waiting to do the bidding of their saviour special elven assassins. What they got instead was something in between, clean streets, bustling town, soldiers going about their business preparing for sorties into the east. Eventually, the blonde stopped in front of a large white building, all neat and with stained glass windows. A little brass sign in the shape of a chicken drinking beer hung next to the entrance.
