Heir of Cinders [FADING EMBERS #1] - ON HOLD

5.1 - Devil's Chord

The moon's pale light spread over the city, illuminating the cobbled streets and negating any purpose the streetlamps once had. No civilian dared to step outside once the sun had set, not in this part of the city. They said Lierris was a free city, but the slums were notorious for being so free that they were utterly lawless. Only fools, foreigners, and unsavory folks would dare lurk around at this time of day. None were in sight, leaving the streets in a silent and lifeless state.

The silence was a welcome reprieve as Fealtanis made his way through the narrow alleys and winding streets of the slums. The silence filled him with a peculiar bliss. Feal took a moment to bask in the silence of the slums, letting the serene stillness wash over him after the... exciting events of the evening. He had taken off his bloodstained mask and had hidden it underneath the folds of his dark cape, allowing him to walk to his destination without needing to worry about the glances that some people might give him. Not that there was anyone around to observe his actions in the first place.

He kept on walking through the desolate cobblestone streets, stepping over the muddy puddles that had formed within cracks and shallow pits in the road. Empty stores and dilapidated houses surrounded him like the stony walls of a fortress. The winding maze-like streets seemed to grow narrower as he walked, pressing in from both sides.

Eventually, after traipsing through the narrow winding streets, he reached his destination: a shoddy lower-class bar in the edge of the slums. A battered sign hung lopsided above the doorway, so weathered that Feal could barely make out the words "The Devil's Chord" etched on its wooden surface. Loud noises and music could be heard from within. He took a moment to readjust his hair and clothes before finally entering the building.

The dim lighting of the building's interior barely fazed him as his eyes were better adjusted to the dark. It was the stench that bothered him. The moment Feal had stepped into the bar, his nostrils were immediately greeted with the repulsive smell of concentrated alcohol. The yildean reeled instinctively from the scent, scrunching up his face. The music was not helping matters, if it could even be called music. It grated at his ears, due to the fact that it was played on an out-of-tune piano tucked away in a dark corner of the tavern by someone who was clearly a novice. This, coupled with the rambunctious chatters of the bar's patrons, only served to provide the place with a highly unpleasant ambience. Feal's scarlet eyes quickly scanned the place, looking for the other members of the Scarlet Masks.

Outside of their missions, the Scarlet Masks were neither masked nor scarlet. In fact, they looked perfectly normal outside of their foreboding masks and striking red raiments, albeit ethnically diverse. This was part of the reason why Feal particularly found missions in Roditerre to be convenient. It might have been the "nation of the rodents", but in reality, it was a melting pot of many different races from all over Jordarys. After all, it was situated in the middle of the continent, serving as the crossroads between many different nations.

Feal spotted Magni, an old one-armed hyrrean, conversing with a newcomer orkhus named Michael near the fireplace. Nadrien, a yildean nobleborn, was sitting on a rotting table. Her head was bent over a firearm as her pale, clawed fingers fiddled with it. Her light caramel brown hair was tied messily into a bushy ponytail to keep it out of her eyes.

One of their members did attract more attention than the rest, although Feal could not blame those who would shoot him furtive glances. The murky-skinned stygenian, looking like a frog with the body of a man, was fiddling with a strange ragdoll in a dark corner of the tavern with his webbed fingers. Stygenians were certainly an uncommon sight in the heart of civilization. The amphibious people were mostly reclusive and tribal in nature, preferring to stay in their small swampy settlements spread all over Jordarys. Even to this day Feal did not know why this particular stygenian decided to join their ranks.