Spawn of the Outworlder

Chapter 4-I Won't See You Tonight

"One of the most primitive emotions in the heart of all creatures is fear. From the moment we open our eyes, it is forever ingrained into our minds. We are born into a world we do not understand and so many of the simple minded take this to mean that we must always fear that which we do not understand.

"It is only natural, therefore, that the nonbelievers feared Abbadon and the new world he envisioned for us all. They could not comprehend a world free from the tyranny of the crown.  They feared to learn that their leaders had failed to better the world and created barriers to ensure they would never have to confront this truth. Look no further than their greatest masquerade, the Laws of Deception.

"A series of codes and legislation enforced by Truthseekers,  illusionists and the Capital Inquisitors, the Laws of Deception are little more than a security blanket. A constitutional body that Dukes, Kings and even the False Emperor himself must follow, the Laws are regulations governed by forces outside of the Emperor's influence. Applied through rituals that allege to verify a leader's testimony that they have always worked towards the betterment of the Empire, rather than to amass power in their own self interests.

"Tell me, child. Do you know of any man who would wish to lead, but not rule? The Laws are a farce, enforced only when a leader has been foolish enough to act by his own hand, rather than a proxy.

"Make no mistake: the nonbelievers are aware the Laws are an illusion, but they will not tolerate anyone attempting to shatter it. They would prefer the work of amassing power be done by independent agents of the Emperor. Those who would know of how to best serve his interests while never doing so on his behalf. Agents such as the Umbral Hand..."

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"This one was my son's first try at smithing."

The blacksmith Peter carried with him a harshly warped shoulderpiece of armor. The man carried the same ginger red hair as his son, Thomas, although these days, he seemed to keep more on his face than his head, his thick beard and mustache grown out to the base of his neck.

"Didn't 'ave a handle on how to properly shape the thing, so it came out far too flat. Should fit along one a your arms," he said to the young man standing in his shop. He then turned to pick up another piece of steel he'd swore he'd find a use for. Would be better off as scrap metal than covering his fat gut, Peter thought to himself, careful not to let his resentment show. Ruins our fun and then expects free armor at a moment's notice? Days like this I wish Abbadon 'ad fully razed the Capital.

Peter then pulled out the large armor piece, the steel taller than the man himself. The armor piece was covered in dents and burns along it, warped in an inward curve with a burned in groove in the center. A pair of leather straps sloppily attached to the sides of it. "'This one was s'pposed to be a shield. But mayor got in the client's ear and told 'im to shove off. We tried to--stop squirming boy!" Peter bellowed as he attempted to strap the armor to the young man. "We tried to change it into a logsplitter, but we just ended up ruinin' the damn thing. Should keep your front safe from most swords. Just keep eyes on your backside. As trying as that may be," he muttered the final sentence silently to himself.

As he placed the armor on the man, Peter looked to the side of his shop where the Emperor's Herald stood. She waited against the wall of the shop, with a look that could cut through solid rock. Think you're too good for all this, eh, Peter assumed. I swear, if they wouldn't 'ang me for it, I'd teach you a thing or two about a woman's place. The Herald's gaze turned to Peter and for a moment, he felt a shiver run down his spine. She 'ear me? One of those capital witches? 'eard talk they can read minds and the like. If the Herald had read his mind, she chose to ignore his thought.