TheAssassinationofCathakAziel
Today would be a day that would stick in the minds of people and the pages of history books. Today is the day that Cathak Aziel will commence his campaign to destroy the Bull of the North and end the deadliest threat the Realm has faced since the disappearance of the Empress. A large crowd has gathered in the central square of Harperston, home to Aziel’s campaign headquarters. The festivities and ceremonies had been going on for two days, and they are going to reach their culmination today with Aziel’s speech and the call to mobilize.
Aziel peeks out from within his palanquin to gaze at the burbling crowd as he passes by on his way to the dais. He had been training and waiting for this moment ever since the remains of Tepet’s legions sulked home after being routed by the Anathema’s forces. His campaign would not fail. He had the resources, the support, and the mandate of the Dragons . He wished he could do without the speech, but protocol demanded he make an appearance, and so he would. He would give his prepared speech, smile and wave to the bureaucrats, even attend their silly ball. Then he could get back to his war. He felt his litter being set down and he quickly finished his wine. Extricating himself from the confines of his conveyance he stretches and allows his attendants to straighten his sashes and provide a final buff to his armor. As he ascends the platform, he calls upon the graces of Hesiesh and a faint nimbus of flaming essence radiates outwards. Already his charm causes ripples of awe to move through crowd. He smiles. He waves. He clears his throat and prepares to speak, and then hesitates. Finally honed combat instincts scream a warning to him, but it is too late.
Jedjre, like all the other residents, attended the festivities as a break from the daily routine. Although that wasn’t all of it, he sheepishly admitted to himself. He also came because it made him feel like he was a part of the cause, like he was helping to battle the Anathema menace. He munches on a chicken leg while he waits for the Cathak Commander to make his speech. He stands up on tip-toe to get a clear look at the dais. The image of Aziel, glorious in his shining red jade armor, stirs something deep within Jedjre. There is awe of course, and that feeling of insignificance that the Princes engender in their lessers, but there is also pride. He adds his voice to the cheering, throbbing crowd as Aziel waves. And that’s when something terribly wrong chose to happen. There is a flash of intense, golden light; shining rays spiral outward like a blooming flower and race towards the dais. Faster they travel, their edges traced in coruscating purple light which sears itself into Jedjre’s mind. The beams arc into Aziel and pass through him before dissipating into the air. The crowd is silent. Jedjre, mouth agape, let's the chicken slide from his hand as he stares at the dais. Aziel is standing there, smiling as if nothing out of the oridnary had occured. The crowd lets out a sigh and a ragged cheer, whatever had happened, it was nothing compared to the might of a Prince of the Earth. The cheers die down and everyone waits expectantly for Aziel to say something. He stands there for a few more moments before neatly sliding down into a dozen separate pieces, blood fountaining everywhere. Panic ensues as hundreds of people run for cover, desperately trying to hide from mysterious golden rays which appear from thin air.
Four blocks away, Vesper Gallowglass pauses to pick a piece of jerky from his teeth with a shining golden knife. Looking up at the sun he channels its power and grows lambent in faintly glowing motes. When the light dies down, there is only an ordinary citizen standing there, secreting away a golden knife into his tunic. He presses on, confidant that Aziel’s assassination will provide the distraction his circle mates need to burn down the headquarters and destroy the armory.
