Chapter Seven:
Ser Drakonsarius felt rather uncomfortable landing in Vorantis. The technocratic region could not be more different than his home.
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Journal Entry – V: The Technologist
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The fifth can be found in the Technocratic region of Vorantis. Know this: the method employed to unveil the Warper will not serve thou well against the Technologist. He hides among the technocrats, and attempting to discern him from their ranks is akin to searching for a needle in a vast, metallic haystack. The Technologist is keenly aware that he is thy next target. Your best course of action is to track down his assassin. Capture them and extract the information thou seek, for they hold the key to the Technologist’s whereabouts. Be relentless in thy pursuit, for time is of the essence.
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Do not underestimate the Technologist; he is a skilled inventor and likely has something to defend himself from attack. Approach with caution, and may thy quest be guided by both valour and cunning.
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The Ninth
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The assassin had moved unsuspectingly through the alley. Drakonsarius was prepared for the decisive moment. His gauntleted hand grasped the hilt of his sheathed sword, ready to strike when the timing was perfect. The knight revealed his presence, swiftly and silently incapacitating the assassin before any alarm could be raised. The subdued figure lay at his feet, now a captive of his mission to unveil the secrets leading to the Technologist’s doorstep.
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The assassin was dressed in black. The mask had been removed to reveal a dark-haired female underneath. The only thing that gave away her profession was her eyes, the cold, sad looking eyes of a seasoned killer. Her neck had a tattoo, a silver gear. She looked at him with disgust, scorn very much evident to the knight. It had taken a vast quantity of effort to coax the answers he needed out of her, but eventually, he got them.
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He had arrived at the private workshop of Technocrat Alistar Ashton, and silently creeped throughout the room until he found himself in a lit room with machines quietly humming, a man stood wearing purple tails, tinkering with some sort of gadget at a workbench. It would seem that the ninth had been right, the Technologist was aware of his presence, for when the knight stepped into the room, the inventor spun on his heels and raised a complicated looking bow, covered in a myriad of gears and mechanisms with elusive purposes. The fifth had it pointed directly at his helmet.
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“Hold right there, knight. I crafted this bow specifically to pierce through the resilient plate armour worn by Knights of the Order, as well as those ridiculous sheild. Step no closer unless thou seek the pointy end of innovation."
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As the knight maintained his distance, the Technologist continued, his voice tinged with a mixture of pride and arrogance. "I knew thou would come for me eventually.”
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“Why doth thou do this?” asked the Dragoon carefully.
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“Vorantis deserves to reclaim its pride, lost in the shameful defeat of the Coalition War. The Covenant promises the means to restore Vorantis to its former glory” the technocrat replied.
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The knight had a note of shock in his reply “So thou chose to work to bring malignant entities into the world?”
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“I bring progress, advancement, and a future where Vorantis stands tall. The Coalition’s defeat will be forgotten in the wake of our achievements, and the smirks will have been finally wiped off the faces of those preening Narcissians!’
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There was a crash. The assassin had entered the room surprisingly clumsily, and in the brief distraction, Drakonsarius seized the moment, launching himself forward. His fist connected with the Technologist’s face, causing the bow to clatter to the floor. Stumbling backwards, he spat blood as he struggled to regain composure.
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He drew out his sword, in a tone filled with righteousness, spoke, “Thy gadgets won’t save thou.”
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The Technologist, recognizing the danger close-quarters combat, would present retreats swiftly, utilising his gadgets to maintain a safe distance. He employs a barrage of ranged attacks, launching small explosive devices and firing projectiles from his bow with precision.
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Despite the relentless assault, Ser Drakonsarius advances steadily, deflecting projectiles with his shield and dodging the electrified bursts. The Technologist, realizing he’s running out of space, manoeuvres towards a large worktable covered in half-finished gadgets and inventions.
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Ser Drakonsarius steadily closes the distance, the Technologist has run out of those small explosive devices, and draws a firearm familiar to the knight from the Citadels armouries as a dragon – a shortened version of a blunderbuss.
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The Technologist levelled the weapon at the Dragoon. The sword sent it spiralling away, the fifth slumped against a cabinet near the worktable, slumped over with a tired expression in his face – the look of defeat. “Tell me, knight of the Order, why dost thou do it?” The defeated technocrat queries.
Ser Drakonsarius responds firmly, "I am bound by a sacred oath to protect the realm”
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“The Æther Era promises of unimaginable rewards, why dost thou really do it?” The Technologist asks. The response is simple, “Duty, not desires.”
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The Voranti utters, “Duty...?”
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The Dragoon picks up Technocrat Ashton's weapon, shoots him dead, and walks away.
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