The True Colours of an Empire_Ch:1_Dragonborn 6

“Welcome to the Iron Possum. I am Wall Art.” After greeting Meadow, he turns towards Eliel, “Never seen the fairy before, Eliel. BTW, how is that new job of yours?”

Before Eliel could speak, Meadow interrupts “I’m Meadow, and we are here to question you about the recent attack by that rogue mage that happened here some time ago. We were told that you are the one who knows a lot of what goes on around here.”

Wall Art lets out a tired exhale and pulls a chair. Jumping on it, he sits down, “That incident took place at Marcy’s Magic Tool Shop. They’re still rebuilding it. The Foreign Prince was attacked by that person and he somehow managed to fight the 'mage' off. Rather insane magic was used, and the two people caused some property damage. That foreign prince was crashed into the store’s walls. Taleus arrived there, but by that time the ‘mage’ was gone.” Lighting his pipe and blowing the colored smoke through his lips, Wall Art speaks again, “Later on, I saw the prince leaving for the capital. I even gave him some food and clothes for the journey ahead before he left.”

“Did you, by any chance, talk to the prince? And, who did he leave with?” Eliel asks.

“He left with some friends. A red panda girl, a rather short Vedalken, and a moody dream walker. Two very uncommon species, but in this business, people who don’t stay here long enough tend to just come and go.”

Meadow takes notes of every single detail.

“Hey, Wall Art, perhaps you know someone who would know a bit more about the other people you saw?” Meadow raises his eyebrows.

“I know a guy. He has been down in the dumps nowadays. And although had a meet-up with one of his old flames, he seems a bit down recently.”

A loud crash distracts them from the conversation. Darting their eyes on the road, they see that the mechanical server of the tavern has bumped into a cloaked man. He pulls the hood back and reveals a fair-complexioned man with ginger facial hair. He draws the darkened circles out on his face and wipes the spilled drink off his cloak. A large Orc woman stepped out to help him clean.

“Seems like he came to us.” Wall Art remarks.

The man walks over to the bar counter, cleans off his clothes, then bends over and sits on a stool and starts mumbling to himself every now and then while taking a sip from his glass. 

“The tools sure have changed since the last time I was here. Would’ve had burn marks on the palms of those, who had to hold the nets. But thank the divine, the Eeldwish House makes better tools for the job.” Drachma laughs as he touts the net.

Drachma and Iriel walk towards the police station presuming that they will find the captain-general there. While walking through the town, the stares of the town’s people sink deep into Iriel’s bones, but Drachma, on the other hand, ignores it all. A shop even places its 'close' sign on as they see Drachma walking close to a broken and patched-up window of that shop.

While walking, Drachma suddenly starts sniffing in the air. He suddenly pauses as a scent catches his attention and starts to walk towards it. Iriel could barely hear his footsteps behind her now. 

Drachma stops in front of an old bunker and bends down to touch its broken lock as he sniffs the air, “Partially melted rock. But, there’s ash from weeds around it too.” He picks up some kind of animal’s fur that was lying on the ground, “We’ve got a potent user of magic to deal with. This looks a lot stronger than anything that I’ve seen before. These electro-lizards have gotten some more pop-pep in their hands since the last time I was outside.” Seeing some ash on the ground he touches it, then, grabbing tight onto his glaive, Drachma says, “Quick hiding location. Due to the bunker’s placement, there is only one way in or out. These pests!”

Iriel walks beside Drachma. They swing open the door.

T.B.C.

Writer: Alejandro Faverzani.

Artist: Nayeli Zelaya.

Co-writer and art editor: adifferentway.