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Post by Sovereign on Feb 12, 2013 21:12:09 GMT -5
Ben After walking for a while and getting turned around a few times, Ben finally made it back to the tracks he followed into the camp. He saw, off in the distance a cloud of dust and heard horses. Running towards the sounds, Ben saw an impending line of horses with Malphas at the head.
“My Lord!” he called out. “My Lord! I need to speak with you!”
Malphas
They had ridden hard over the past few days, and based on reports they should be coming within range of the Hawk camp. Malphas looked back, his army of Crows ready to descend upon the lesser Hawks. He smiled, it would be a glorious battle with much gained.
“My Lord!” a voice called out. “My Lord! I need to speak with you!” Malphas looked toward the voice, holding up his hand for the advance to halt. “Who are you?” He asked the boy.
Ben “Ben,” replied Ben quickly, a little surprised the King didn’t notice him after how they had parted last, with the King almost strangling him. “Ben Allet, Sir. I was the one who scouted the Hawk camp in advanced, and I need to talk to you about what I found out before you attack!”
Malphas
“What is it? Do you have a route that will ensure us victory? A flaw in their strategy? Come on, Allet, out with it,” he said. With no intention of letting the boy live after he spoke, he motioned once for Zai to draw one of her throwing blades.
Samson Blake
The march had been a long and forced march, he worried about Beryl, not being accustomed to this kind of travel. Then there was a sudden abrupt stop to the forces. “Beryl, be ready,” he whispered as he nudged his black stallion forward, slowly getting within earshot of the king.
Zai The woman recognized Malphas’ sign and slowly, inconspicuously began to draw one of her poisoned throwing blades. She knew she was only going to have one shot at this, so she had to make it count but also be discreet about it.
Ben “Well, no sir, not exactly,” Ben replied. He had to think of a lie or something to slow down the advance of the King. Then it dawned on him. “It’s just that at the camp there are civilians as well. If you storm the place and kill everyone, you’ll be taking hundreds of innocent lives. I’m sure if you send a few of your men down there, you can talk to the Hawks. Show them our force. If they know how many people we have, they will surrender without any bloodshed!”
Beryl Not knowing what Samson meant by being ready, Beryl took this as an excuse to slip off her horse. She was tired of sitting on it and her legs were cramping. She wasn’t sure what was going on, but she was very glad for the pause. Once she was off the horse, she heard the young soldier begging for Malphas to stop his advance. Beryl just shook her head, asking herself, Who is this poor fool and does he even value his life at all?
Malphas
“No one who flies under the banner of the Hawks is innocent, and here I see one of my own speaking for the enemy.” He looked down at this Ben Allet. The one he had already sentenced to death. “You are a traitor and nothing more, and the only thing a traitor deserves is death.” He signaled for Zai to kill him.
Shadow Blade
“Beryl, follow me when no one is looking.” And with those words he kicked his horse forward, he had to save this boy.
Beryl Beryl nodded and followed Shadow Blade, wondering what he could be thinking. Surely he wasn’t going to try to save this boy. This child had forfeit his life when he stopped Malphas’s bloody charge.
Zai Nodding, Zai silently and swiftly threw her dagger at the boy. She knew it would hit a vital mark on the boy. Even if she was physically exhausted from lack of sleep and wounds that she could not rest enough to heal, she knew she could hit a stationary target this close.
Ben A sinking feeling balled up in Ben’s stomach. This was not going as he had hoped. He never expected to have a death sentence levied against him for being a traitor. Taking a gulp, Ben called out saying, “Please! Talk to Lucas, your strategist! He knows this is important. You need to listen!” At this point, Ben saw the blade flying at him, but he knew there was nothing he could do to run from the King, so he accepted his fate to die trying to save lives.
Shadow Blade
He had no time to deflect the blade so he did the only thing he could do, kicked his horse into a full gallop and leaned over the side reaching his hand out for the boy, as the blade sunk into his shoulder, he grasped the boy’s hand and lifted him up in front of him. Only thing that kept him going was the tolerance to poisons he had gained in working with them. “FOR THE LINE OF YOLOWN!” And with that he ripped out the blade from it’s place and sent it toward Malphas. Then without looking he picked up Beryl and headed toward the woods. He’d make it to the Hawks and warn them.
Malphas
He smiled as Zai threw her knife but the smile was soon erased and replaced with a scowl as Shadow Blade betrayed him with the words “For the line of Yolown!” then sent the knife that had embedded itself in his shoulder right toward Malphas himself, barely missing him but hitting one of the men behind him, between the eyes.
If he had been a few feet more accurate, Malphas knew he’d be dead. And that angered him. “Daray! Follow them!” And with that he began the march anew.
Zai Zai couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Shadow Blade rushed his horse out to block the blade with his own body then, yelling a declaration of treason, he charged into the forest with the boy and Beryl. Although, Zai was stunned, she wasn’t so stunned that she completely forgot her training. She was able to draw another throwing blade and got the horse in his behind. “At least the poison should get them off that horse soon,” she muttered to herself.
The assassin was about to turn her horse to follow the trio when Malphas ordered another Crow to follow them. She looked at him with questioning eyes. Zai wanted to prove herself, to make up for her mistake, but she did not dare voice what she was wondering for Malphas was always right in his orders and commands.
Ben While the solider braced for the impact of the blade, something astounding happened. The Shadow Blade, the Crow’s most dangerous killer, stepped in and saved Ben’s life. Then he lifted Ben up onto the horse in front of him, yell about the Yolown line that Ben had just recently learned about. Finally Shadow Blade scooped up none other than Lady Beryl, the King’s most favored consort, and they started to ride away.
“What- what is going on here?!” Ben demanded confused.
Beryl Beryl realized what was going to happen moments before it did. That fool she thought to herself. It’s not enough that he wants to protect me. Does he need to defend everyone of noble heart or something? Does he have no sense of preservation?
The woman could do nothing but sigh and allow herself to be lifted onto the horse after Ben. She knew she would be safe because she was with Shadow Blade, but she cast one last longing look back at Malphas as she rode off.
That’s a life I’ll never have anymore she thought. I’ll never see my daughter or son ever again.
Shadow Blade
“I’m saving your life and taking you back to the Hawks were you haven’t been declared a traitor. No Crow will give you safe haven, Malphas declared you a traitor before we left the capital.” He kicked the horse further knowing that it had been poisoned.
Ben “But what about Lucas?” Ben asked in a depressed voice. “I couldn’t fight against him. He’s the only reason I’m not with the Hawks right now. You should’ve let me die and slit Malphas’ throat in his sleep instead.”
Shadow Blade
“Lucas was there when your death was ordered, he gave no objections.” Samson looked down as the Horse was slowing down. “We walk from here.”
Ben Feeling a twinge of pain in his heart, Ben knew that was true. There was no way Lucas wouldn’t be with the main body of forces. Ben had even called out for him in his last moments. Sliding off his horse, Ben said sadly, “I’ll go, but I’ll take care of the wounded. I can’t- I just can’t fight right now.”
Beryl The woman also got off the horse. She realized it was poisoned and that Samson was most likely poisoned as well. “Samson,” she said softly as she walked up to him. “Is there any way we can treat your injuries?”
Samson
“If we find a creak, we can wash it out. I don’t know the type of poison she used. It’s not the Yolown poison or I would already be paralyzed but that doesn’t mean it can’t kill me.” He walked on. “And we don’t have time for proper treatment. This battle will seem like Wasteland itself by the end of the day.”
Beryl “Samson!” she cried out. “There’s no way you’re in any condition to fight right now. We need to get you to a place where you can heal and recover.” Ben Shaking his head, Ben said, “We don’t have time for that Miss. Really, this whole place is about to become a battle field. We need to either join up with the Hawks or we’ll be killed as bystanders.”
Samson
“Beryl, Ben is right. Plus, I’ve worked with poison for most of my adult life. I’ve tested every kind on myself, and I’ve slowly gained defenses against them.” He rolled his shoulder were he had been hit. “She’s never been that good of an assassin, I would be more afraid if Toma had been the one who tried to kill you, Ben.”
Ben Seeing how Shadow Blade was injured, Ben offered his shoulder to the man and said, “Lean on me if you get weak.” And he began to walk, as much as he could remember towards the Hawk camp.
Beryl At this point, Beryl just wanted to go back to the castle. She wanted to undo all these days. Her only friend, the man she was starting to come to love, might not be there for long. She became quiet and just walked slowly behind the boys.
Samson
“I should be fine,” He looked back at Beryl who had grown silent. Elhanan grant her strength and protection in the days to come. He feel silent and kept walking as well, praying that they would reach the battlefield before Malphas’ force.
In about an hours time, Samson stared down at the Hawk camp. He could hear the hooves of the Crow army heading this way, they didn’t have much time.
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Post by atlantis on Feb 12, 2013 22:45:34 GMT -5
Just honestly all my characters at the same time Melzikiah
He looked to Alaric and before he could say two separate scouts ran up to him, both speaking at the same time. “Crows spotted to the southeast! Sir.” “A huge army of Crows spotted to the northeast! Sir.” His eyes could hide the shock or the dread that came over him. “So soon? Alaric, escort miss?” He looked toward the young girl who had suggested traps.
Bethany spoke up, “Her name is Shyahwyn.”
“Please escort miss Shyahwyn to the training grounds and give her anything she needs to set as many traps as possible,” Looking back at Toma, Eve, and Bethany, Eve showing her distrust of Toma by standing by Bethany and as far away from him as possible. “You three, and” and he looked back to his scouts. “You two.You will be our Shadow team, I want you to head southeast, keeping to the shadows and forests. Attack swiftly and silently. Do not engage in prolonged fights. If possible Shyahwyn will join you at this point.” He pointed to a regular meeting spot the Hawks used. “Eve will know it.” They all gave a nod of affirmation. “NOW!”
As Toma lead the group away, he turned away, walking as fast as he could. “Locke follow me.”
Locke
He was as surprised as anyone that Melzikiah had not only heard him, but accepted his idea. Though, he was learning quickly that the Hawk leader was a surprising man. Locke watched as Bethany left with the one called Toma before following Melzikiah obediently. As they walked, reality began to set in. There was going to be a battle. A bloody one. And he would be caught right in the middle of it. He said a quick prayer under his breath, seeking guidance, courage and protection and tried to keep his breathing normal. He knew he had to fight-- and come out alive-- not just for himself, but for everyone. For all the people he had vowed his life to.
“What will you have me do, sir?” he asked with curiosity.
Melzikiah
“You will be with the southern forces.” He said scanning the area looking for his son. “You’ll be with my son Benaiah,” He looked back. “You met him when he thrashed your former commanding officer if I’ve heard correctly.”
“I need you to know that while this seems to be the smaller force, it will still be dangerous.” He saw his son and started walking toward him. “They will probably throw all they have against you and their attacks will be relentless. They will want to breakthrough and make it to my forces. I need you and Benaiah to make sure that doesn’t happen.”
Locke
He remembered Benaiah, and began connecting the name to a face at last. Locke listened carefully as Melzikiah spoke, clinging to each word. He realized his hands were starting to shake and he shut his eyes and called to memory Bethany’s laugh. He tried to remember the courage he’d found earlier on the training grounds with Melzikiah and steeled himself. “Yes, sir. We won’t let you down,” he said a bit more confidently than he felt.
Melzikiah
“I know you won’t,” He turned toward his son and shouted for him to come over to them. “Benaiah, this is worse than I thought. There are two forces coming from the southeast and northeast. The largest to the North. I’m going to take the bulk of our forces and draw them to the training grounds where we have a ‘specialist’ setting traps at this moment.” He saw the confusion in his son’s face.
“You will stay here at the camp, were the smaller force is heading. You will be the one to Command in my absence, Locke here will be at your side.” He turned to head toward the training grounds but then turned embraced his son. “I love you, son.”
He left Locke and Benaiah standing there as he climbed box nearby, he shouted out orders for the majority of the Hawks to head toward the training grounds on the double and for the Talon regiment to stay behind with Benaiah.
Then headed toward the training grounds himself.
Benaiah
“Locke, are you ready for this? This battle will have enemies stronger than bushes.” Benaiah said with a worried look on his face. It wasn’t really Locke that made him worry, it was the fact that he’d never commanded a group in battle this size. His father had put him in charge of making sure this group didn’t break through and flank the group fighting the larger force. He didn’t know if he could do it.
Locke
He exhaled loudly, finding a calm at last. “I trust your father. And he’s trusted us with this. So I’m ready,” he answered. “What do you suppose is the best way to dig in? I’ll do what you need and help send word to everyone else.”
Benaiah
“Will need to place some pikemen in the front, take the horses out of action as soon as possible. Then take the fight to them, archers behind the mainlines. Set some of those supply boxes as a wall for the Archers to hide behind and climb atop when needed.” He started walking toward the box his father was just on.
Locke
He was impressed as Benaiah stepped directly into his role. The plan seemed fairly solid. He tried to remember the stories of battle and war he'd read when he was home, searching for any ideas that might help. "Should we conceal some archers in the trees as well?" he asked, remembering Bethany firing from above at Madoc in the forest. "And if there's time, dig some small holes on the far end of the camp, covered with leaves to disguise them. When they make their charge, the horses will fall and hopefully trample their rider as well."
Benaiah
“That’s perfect.” Benaiah says as he jumps up on the box. “Men, I know that I am younger that all of you here. I know that it may be hard for some of you to follow my command, but I ask that you put that aside and fight by my side and not under me.” He looked out across the men under his command. “We are the shield of this battle, we are here to protect the main force from this arrow being sent at them. We make our stand here, we stop the Crows here, and then we join the main force and end the reign of the false king.” He looked down and offered his hand to Locke.
Locke
The speech was rousing. Or at least it gave him a little spirit. He was shocked, however, to find Benaiah extending a hand toward him. Up there? But I'm nobody, he thought, wanting to creep into the crowd and disappear. Nevertheless, he climbed up on top of the box, clearing his throat. "My name is Fendras and Melzikiah has asked me to help his son." He paused a minute, a little fazed by all the faces looking back at him. "So, we need to start building a wall here with those boxes. Archers, some of you will be behind it. Others will be in the trees, plucking off the enemy from above. We need to dig small, but fairly deep holes in the far end over there. Disguise the ground. Make it look untouched. This will take out some horses. Those that still come through will be stopped by pikemen-- you’ll be in the forefront, so be prepared.”
Speaking was getting a little easier as he went on. He stopped to take a breath and remembered what Melzikiah had said from the beginning. “The enemy will be strong but we are stronger. Remember that the power you wield and the life you hold was given to you by the King of Asezerah. We must hold this position. We cannot fall. And we won’t.”
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Post by atlantis on Feb 13, 2013 1:18:11 GMT -5
AvanIt was obvious they were close now. Lucien had slowed the pace and a hush fell over the entire force as they crept along the mountainsides, surrounded by trees. With every fiber of his being, Avan was looking for an exit strategy, but he had been surrounded by Crows on all sides for the last hour or so. He knew he had to warn the Hawks before the battle began. Hopefully they would already know and be prepared. He was completely caught off guard when his father motioned for him to come to the front of the line, while ordering the rest of the men to stop. Avan followed him to the edge of a clearing, far enough away from the group that they could no longer be seen. “You’ve been looking for your escape,” Lucien began. “Go.” “What?” “You heard me,” the strategist replied with a nod toward the clearing. Avan didn’t know whether or not to trust him. It was just as likely, he thought, that Lucien would fire an arrow through his heart as soon as he turned away. Still, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity. He leapt through the brush and broke out into a run. MadocMadoc was thankful to Wylder for releasing him more than anything else. He had hoped he would find Warren with Ackbar and Novorus, but apparently Wylder had sent their scouting crew to the King’s forces. Even so, both of his brothers would be present in the battle somewhere. If all went well, they could meet up and abandon the military for good. He wished now more than ever that he had listened to Locke and not decided to follow Ballack after all. He knew this mess was his fault and he could only hope his brothers would forgive him. A creeping feeling began to crawl down his spine, like he were being watched, and he scanned the surrounding area for anything out of the usual but found nothing.... Then, out of nowhere, a man next to him fell off his horse, spraying blood everywhere. Madoc leapt off his horse and drew his sword, ready for whoever came his way. LucienHe watched his son leave, a twinge of worry somewhere in the back of his mind. If we meet on the battlefield, I will have to kill you... Suddenly he heard a slight noise somewhere above him; hidden on the edge of a stone he saw a hint of golden hair and a silver edge pointing out of the leaves. His heart stopped as he understood what was about to happen. He wanted to shout, to call Avan back, but before his voice would come to him, the arrow was already loosed. He saw it fly, and land hard on the ground as Avan leapt out of the way and continued on. Lucien whirled around and ran back to where he had left his men, only to find one of them had already been taken down. “Archers!” he yelled, but they already knew what to do. He was kicking himself for not seeing this coming. Of course the Hawks would send out men to fight in the shadows. AvanHe still couldn’t believe his father had released him, nor could he forget his own promise of revenge, though this act of kindness did make him question it. He dodged an arrow as it landed by his feet, taking a glance back in the direction it had come. I’m still wearing Crow armor... The Hawks must think I’m the enemy. Then an awful thought occurred to him. What if Lucien had only released him so he would find any traps the Hawks had set before his army trampled through to their camp? There was hardly a doubt in his mind this was the case. With a frown he began to un-strap the armor that covered him. I can’t look like one of them or he’ll find out where everyone’s stationed. Besides, no one will believe I’m not a Crow if I show up looking like this. He came to a tree and rested beside it, pulling off the remainder of his armor, feeling foolish as he did so, and hoping he could find new armor and a new weapon on the battlefield. OT: the group attacking the Crows is not Benaiah/Locke’s group, but Toma/Eve/Bethany’s group.
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Ambassador
Full Member
Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidance of things not seen.
Posts: 130
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Post by Ambassador on Feb 13, 2013 16:18:17 GMT -5
Alaric
Melzikiah looked to Alaric but before he could say anything two separate scouts ran up to him, both speaking at the same time.
“Crows spotted to the southeast! Sir.”
“A huge army of Crows spotted to the northeast! Sir.”
“So soon?" Melzikiah answered. "Alaric, escort miss?” He looked toward the young archer girl from the woods, who was standing next to Bethany and Eve girl.
Bethany spoke up, “Her name is Shyahwyn.”
Shyahwyn...So that is her name. It is strange how much she resembles...
“Please escort miss Shyahwyn to the training grounds and give her anything she needs to set as many traps as possible.”
Alaric nodded. "Sir." He turned toward Shyahwyn. "Whenever you're ready, miss: to the weponry!"
Eve
Melzikiah looked turned his attention toward her, Bethany and his new favorite, Toma. “You three, and” and he looked back to the two scouts. “You two.You will be our Shadow team, I want you to head southeast, keeping to the shadows and forests. Attack swiftly and silently. Do not engage in prolonged fights. If possible Shyahwyn will join you at this point.” He pointed to a regular meeting spot the Hawks used. “Eve will know it.” Eve gave a curt nodd of affermation. “NOW!”
After one swift glance at Alaric for luck, Eve nudge Bethany and bounded off, gesturing toward the two scouts. She ignored Toma.
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Post by Sovereign on Feb 14, 2013 1:25:56 GMT -5
Garidan & Gideon
The name sent a shock down Garidan’s spine. Not her first name but her last name. “Galen? I met a man named Galen before. He was the husband of my fiancee’s sister. I met him at her funeral. Tell me please, was your mother’s original name ‘Astra’?” He asks almost in disbelief that the niece of the woman he loved to this very day despite her death.
And he almost didn’t ask the question because this woman who now could barely stand in front of him was the spitting image of his rose, his love Vivian Astra. Before she answered he turned to his son. “Gideon please go and get her something to eat immediately.”
Gideon couldn’t deny that she looked just like his adoptive mother, sharing the kindness in her eyes that his mother had, the same hair, and the same beauty. When his father asked him to go get her something to eat he obeyed hurriedly.
He left the room and headed toward the kitchen. Lord, Elhanan what is happening here? To see the very image of the one I lost many years ago is almost heartbreaking but somehow it warms my core. Please....don’t let this end the same way. But no matter what....I will serve you. He ended his prayer as he entered the kitchen and asked the cook for some leftovers from the days lunch. She handed him a bowl of venison stew, and a small piece of bread. He bowed and thanked her for her kindness before heading back to the room.
On the way, he grabbed a spare blanket from one of the closets. Thank you Elhanan for father, who has used his power to make this more than just an orphanage but a place of refuge. He finally entered into the room. Walking over to Samara, he placed her bowl on the table in front of her, he pulled her a seat out, took her hand and led her into the chair, and finally wrapped the blanket around her. “You’re safe now.”
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Post by purplemunster94 on Feb 14, 2013 2:01:54 GMT -5
Samara
Samara's eyes widened when the man said he knew of her father. Then he asked about her mothers name prior to marrying her father, and surprisingly knew it. The woman he loved had been her aunt Vivian, she had never met the woman, seeing as she had died before Samara was born, but her mother had talked about her. Her mother told her how they had once worked together healing the injured. They were an unstoppable team. "Yes Sir, that was my mother's name. I never met Vivian myself, but, my mother told be wonderful things about her."
The mention of her father, however, fell heavily on her. She realized then she hadn't seen him in over 2 years. So much had changed in that time. She was glad when the man, Gideon, led her to the table and gave her food, to distract her from thoughts of her father. She leaned into the chair and pulled the blanket tightly around her. "Thank you, this looks wonderful." She managed a smile toward Gideon. "The kindness I've experienced in the last few minutes is more than I've seen in too long. It means the world to me, but I refuse to be a burden, so if there is anything that I can do to help, I will." She took a bite of the stew feeling the warm liquid slide down her throat, relaxing every muscle it touched. "I don't know if you have need for one, but I have been told that I am a pretty good healer, it runs in my family, or at least I've been told."
OT: I will post for Daray soon.
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Post by atlantis on Feb 15, 2013 1:33:57 GMT -5
Novorus
He was still furious at losing his second chance to murder that prison rat (OT: Samara). What’s more, when he and Ballack had rejoined Wylder’s forces to travel into battle, he found Lucien’s boy there, healing from his fall. Though, this would work out for him, in the end. If Lucien ever asked him to do anything that didn’t sound preferable in the future, he could use the detail against him by reporting him as a traitor to the King. Yes, he’d hold onto that for a while, until the perfect opportunity arose.
Ballack, on the other hand, hardly seemed to notice the captain’s son’s presence. All he had done since they joined forces was squawk about how Lucien had released the man he’d put in prison before they left (OT: Madoc).
Novorus watched as Lucien led his son into the forest alone. You’re less of a man than I thought you were, Wylder, if you can’t even give up that boy of yours. He prided himself on his ability to stand alone, without attachments to others, as his Master had taught him. Only a fool would endanger himself like that for another.
He froze abruptly, sensing that someone was watching them in secret. It didn’t take him long to pinpoint the position of at least one of their stalkers. Just then, a dagger flew down toward one of Lucien’s men, killing him instantly. Many of the soldiers took up their weapons, spooked by the surprise attack, including the fool Ballack had imprisoned.
Novorus, however, didn’t move. Instead, he studied the kill, soaking in every gory detail to get a better idea of who they were dealing with. Lucien returned from the forest, shouting to the archers to fire and breaking Novorus’s concentration.
“Idiot!” Ashlock shouted. “My men will handle this. You head to battle and try not to get killed on the way.”
Lucien gave him a glare for the history books before leading his men onward, leaving Novorus behind. Above them, he could just detect the movement of an assassin headed after them. He leapt into action, slipping into the shadows of the bushes and trees after the enemy until he had caught up to him (OT: one of the scouts). A young man, slight yet clearly trained, the Hawk was looking for the next opportunity to strike when Novorus sneaked up behind him. He pulled his dagger silently and slit the boy’s throat before he could make a sound, letting the body fall onto the ground.
Up ahead, he caught sight of the tail of another cloak, black as night and easily concealed. With a small grin, he continued after it, trailing closely.
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Logos
Full Member
Posts: 172
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Post by Logos on Feb 19, 2013 3:51:02 GMT -5
Cerys:
Cerys checked herself in the mirror. Her tiara was on straight, the pleats of her finest gown creased perfectly, the folds falling as they should. The servants were attending her again, now that she seemed to be in charge of the City. A pair of soldiers entered carrying a roll of velvet. They set it on a table and unrolled it, revealing a selection of swords. Quickly they arranged them for her examination, and backed away with a bow. A hurried search of the armory produced only a handful of weapons that were small enough for the Princess to wear without looking preposterous, and potentially elegant enough not to look too much out of place.
Cerys looked the weapons over, test-hefting a couple of them. Even the smaller swords felt awkwardly weighty. She picked up a slender blade with a swept hilt and fittings of silver, with a wire-wrapped black grip. It was someone's over-long main gauche rather than a proper sword, but she drew it from its scabbard and gave it a few un-practiced test swings.
"This one will serve quite well. Thank you," she said, slipping it back into its scabbard. She handed it over and raised her arms so the servants could wrap its hastily re-sized belt around her narrow waist. Fussily, they adjusted the way the scabbard hung, until they judged its appearance flawless. Cerys gave a nod. Of course she did not expect to actually fight with the weapon. She was about to hold a Council of War, so it was only proper that she bear a sword. "Let us be going," she said, and started toward the council chamber. The guards formed up around her. Now they were in full battle dress, with long shields, broadswords, and quivers of javelins on their backs. Their heavy footfalls completely obscured the sound of hers as they marched, watching every corridor warily.
Entering the King's council chamber, she was surprised to find less then half the chairs filled.
"Her Royal Highness, Cerys adi-Tzyona of the House of Azezel, Princess of the Realm, Daughter of the King!" a guard said in a stentorian voice. The counselors who had come rose for her, but she could see nervousness on their faces, a certain reluctant stiffness in their movements. Inwardly struggling to hold on to a regal persona, she strode to the chair set beside Malphas' throne and took her seat, briefly fumbling with the sword she was unaccustomed to wearing.
"Why are there so few here? Has my father the King taken his advisers with him? Do they not have sons, or others who take their place when they are away or, heaven forbid, prevented from attending by illness or other reason?"
"Your Highness...there is...some concern," Andraias of Aposynne said, "His Majesty, may he live forever, might not smile upon your enterprise. He is known to be...jealous for his throne. It is likely that they fear his wrath upon his return, for appearing to show support to...someone else."
Cerys' heart pounded. She gripped the armrests of her chair so that the nobles would not see her hands tremble. How can I do anything if most of my own advisers won't even show up? It would have been so easy to break and run, to just flee the room in tears, run to her bedroom, throw herself on her bed and wish all of this would just go away. But the eyes of the parishioners of the Temple, and the dead gaze of Captain Kreiss welded her to her seat.
A thought came to her mind: Make them. It was a frightening thing to contemplate. To potentially make enemies of powerful lords, lords who would be the ones to get the last word when her father returned. Yet, if she didn't, she was sure the ones who had come would not do so again. Please, Lord Elhanan, give me words to say, Cerys thought, trying to remember everything she'd been taught about speech and rhetoric.
"Our King faces enemies across a battlefield. Should he be forced to yield to them so that he can come scurrying back to attend to things here because he cannot trust his lords to fulfill their duty in his absence? Do they think they show loyalty to him by openly disrespecting his blood? As you can all see, I am not in my father's throne, so he may be as jealous of it as he likes. It is his. I am not the threat his throne needs to be defended from. This very day, an assassin killed the Realm's master strategist Captain Kreiss, only a few paces from our King's throne.
"You," Cerys said, picking out a guard, "go and gather a detail and bring the rest of the lords here. Tell them what I have said here, and if they will not come willingly, bring them in irons if you must!"
"Milady, you are too young for the responsibility you seek. Your reach exceeds your grasp," Odoacer of Kodorma said. "You should not dragoon the lords of the Realm about. These things will keep until His Majesty returns. If it were otherwise, he would surely have appointed someone to administer in his absence."
"I know that I am young. That is why I need my advisers. My father is confident of a quick victory. And if it be Elhanan's will, he will have one. But what if his victory is not quick? If my father cannot stay at the head of his armies as long as necessary to defeat his enemies, but must hurry back here to run the City before things fall apart, then he is not a King of all Aquitas, he is a mayor of Tirh Ciaradh. It is our duty, to him as our King, and to Elhanan our God, to uphold order and justice in the Kingdom while he fights. Now go," she said to the guard.
"Yes, Your Highness," the guard said with a salute before about-facing to leave. Cerys turned to another guard.
"Our master strategist is dead. We will need someone to advise us on military matters. Can you think of someone, an experienced soldier and leader of men? The sort of person that war stories are told about? Someone who lives here in the Capital?"
The guards looked at each other. "Captain Gars?" one of the guards said. Smiles slowly spread across the faces of the others.
"A Captain? Is there no one of higher rank?" Cerys asked.
"Ah...he was actually a General, Your Highness. General Savoyar. He is an old man now, served under King Yetzek'yah, King Minkah's father. He was a great general in his time. Famous for leading from the front. Sometimes, when he wanted to have a small force go on some especially dangerous mission, he'd lead it himself. Now, as General of the whole army, he wasn't supposed to do that sort of thing. So, he would give himself a...I guess you could call it a temporary demotion. He'd go as 'Captain Gars'--General Aleksandr Rufus Savoyar. As long as he wore 'Captain Gars' ranking insignia, the men would go along with it, treating him as a Captain instead of as a General. He insisted on it. So, he could lead the mission--on orders from General Savoyar, or sometimes from King Yetzek'yah."
"And this...worked?" Cerys said. It sounded a bit daft to her, but what did she know?
"Yes...well, most of the time. It cost him a lot, the last time he did it. But it meant a lot to the men, that he'd take whatever risks he ordered them to."
"Your Highness, General Savoyar had a reputation for rash action. In his role as 'Captain Gars,' it arguably crossed the border into insanity. An unstable man and by all accounts, a drunkard," Odoacer said. "I have been in more than a few battles in my time, serving your father in the Royal War. I would be pleased to serve as your military adviser."
Cerys glanced around at the guards. They were trying to hide it, but she could see that they were not happy with the way the lord of Kodorma was talking about their General Savoyar. He must have been really good, if soldiers too young to have ever fought under him still remember him as a hero, right?
"We will be grateful for your advice, Lord Odoacer," she said, giving the lord a respectful nod. "But we would also like to hear from this General Savoyar, if he may be found. You, go and fetch a detail and bring him if you can."
"Yes, Your Highness!" the guard said, brightening.
"Your Highness, why would you drag this man here in his dotage?" Odoacer huffed. "He should be left to his cups."
"My lord, as we have said, we will greatly appreciate whatever advice you have to offer. But it seems like you and General Savoyar are likely to have very different ways of seeing things. If we have the both of you, it is our hope that we will see with two eyes instead of only one. If he has nothing of value to offer, he may be sent away as easily as summoned."
"As you wish, Your Highness," Odoacer said, but his face had hardened against her. Uh-oh. Did I just make a mistake? But I can't have people lie to me anymore! I have to know the truth! Cerys took a breath to restore her calm.
"Now, we would have each of you tell us what things you are most expert in," she said, turning to the nearest courtier. By the time they finished, the first guard and his detail returned with the rest of the courtiers, all scowling and looking affronted.
"What do you think you're playing at, Princess?" Varus of Odith Liet snapped. He was a tall, slender man with steel-gray hair pulled back into a ponytail. "Do you expect to find support for this...coup?"
"My lord. When our King returns to his City, do you think it would be better for him to find it running smoothly, or in chaos? You have been told about the assassin? If my father's enemies can strike in his very throne room, what else might they do? When he returns, you may protest to him if you wish. But perhaps you should not be so sure he would have preferred that you neglect your service to the Realm in its hour of peril. Please be seated."
"As you wish, Your Highness," he said stiffly, then took his seat.
"Now. On to business. Does the City have enough stores of food and other necessities to be ready in the event of a crisis?"
"Are you expecting King Malphas to be defeated and the City forced to stand for a siege, Your Highness?" Varus said.
"We do not know what to expect, my lord. That is why this Council has been convened. I trust that you all listened to my father's speech to his legions?" The lords and courtiers all nodded. "When word spreads of his armies doing as he ordered them to, to the women among the enemy, doesn't that mean people might flee here for safety?"
"You...want to give shelter to enemy women who are under our King's condemnation?"
"My lord. Pretend for a moment that you are a girl living in a loyal village in the path of the army. Would you fully trust men who have been stoked to rage and violence, to hear your assurances of loyalty to the King? Might you, or your parents not decide that getting away from the battle area was the sensible thing to do?
"Aside from that, the enemy might have allies that have not yet revealed themselves, enemies who might try to attack Tirh Ciaradh while my father and the bulk of our fighting force is away. Or maybe something else could happen that we're not expecting. We should try to be prepared, shouldn't we?"
After a couple hours spent wrangling over stores of bread and cheese and patrols to keep the roads free of highwaymen, the second guard she'd sent away returned, accompanied by a barrel-chested man in an ill-fitting guard uniform who looked like he'd been hastily cleaned up. He had a mop of scraggly white hair that fell past his shoulders, a horribly-scarred face, and an eye patch over one eye. He stumped in clumsily on a peg leg and cane, weaving slightly in his steps.
"Your Highness...General Savoyar."
"Please be seated, General," Cerys said. The old man fixed her with his one good eye, ice blue beneath a bushy eyebrow. Cerys tried not to shrink under that piercing gaze.
"So...His Majesty--LONG MAY HE LIVE!" Savoyar bellowed, as if he was shouting it out in a tavern to call for a toast, but with a hint of sarcasm in his voice, "went an' left th' kingdom in th' hands of a little girl that plays with dollies."
"You are not here to critique the King's actions, General. You are here to help guide ours. Please be seated."
"Your Highness, you need not tolerate disrespect from this...relic," Odoacer snapped. "Your father would have him flogged for speaking thus! If he was feeling merciful."
"General Savoyar is not the only one who has disrespected us today. It is our hope that that this very bluntness means that he will speak his mind honestly. We would wish the same of all of you. Please be seated General, and let us move on to the military situation. First, who are these enemies that our King goes to war against?"
"They call themselves 'Hawks,' Your Highness," Odoacer said.
"Humph. So it's come to that, has it?" Savoyar grumbled.
"So they call themselves 'Hawks,' but who are they?"
"They're a secret society that claims the right to remove a king from his throne and replace him with one that is presumably better, by their standards at least," Odoacer said.
"You're not tellin' her the whole truth, Sunbeam," the General replied. "The Hawks were established by the last heirs of the Falconer royal line a hundred fifty years ago, when they enthroned Tilion Yalown the First as King. They served through the entire Yalown Dynasty, watching to make sure that no evil king or usurper seized the throne. With that Dynasty's support, I might add. All the way down to King Minkah the Just." By now the entire Council was scowling at General Savoyar.
"So, these 'Hawks' decided that King Malphas is the sort of King they're supposed to remove? Does anyone know anything about them, or who they want to have as King? Who watches them?"
"No, Your Highness, your father only recently discovered that they still existed, and were starting to gather their forces for an uprising. He decided to strike swiftly, while they are still weak. They will be a solved problem soon," Odoacer said. "As for who they'd want to rule Aquitas in the exceedingly unlikely event that they should prevail, I can say with complete certainty that it would not be you. They will want to eliminate your father's blood line so that you or your descendants would not be a threat to their new Dynasty."
"Hawks wouldn't kill a little girl. At least...not...the Hawks as they were in th' old days. Can't make any guarantees 'bout who's runnin' 'em now though."
Cerys fretted for a moment. What if they're right? What if they're the good guys? Did their leader tell their army to show no mercy and ravish women? If they're the good guys, and they want me dead...does that make me a bad guy? Here I am trying to hold Father's kingdom together... And that just makes him stronger. But I still have to 'do justice' for the people, don't I?
"They did send an assassin to murder Captain Kreiss--barely more than a boy, I might add--right here in the Palace. They aim to cause chaos. And now that you are the center of order in Tirh Ciaradh Your Highness, there is no guarantee they will not strike at you. They are not white knights from fairy tales, no matter how much they might wish to wear the mantle. They ravaged their share of villages in the Royal War. Ask any of the survivors, and they could tell you horrors your ears should not have to hear. Rosewood Village, for example. Your father's harsh measures are meant to serve as a brutal but necessary deterrent, to remind them of the consequences should they repeat the atrocities of the past."
"But you agree that Father's confidence is justified?" she asked Odoacer.
"Yes, of course. He is Elhanan's anointed. He has the finest soldiers and knights in the Realm, and Lucien, his strategist is at least as brilliant if not more so, than the late Captain Kreiss. You need not worry about the Hawks, Your Highness. They will fall by your father's sword."
"Thank you," she said to Odoacer, then turned toward General Savoyar for his opinion.
"Well Your Highness, I don't know how many men-at-arms the Hawks have, or what leadership they have. That battle is your father's to win or lose, by the will of Elhanan."
"What about foreign invaders? Is there anyone who might come to the Hawks' aid, or just decide to invade because we're fighting each other?"
"By the time any of the major foreign powers finds out about this war, it is almost certain to be over. It would be a grave mistake for them to try and launch an invasion across the ocean."
"It's not foreign kingdoms like t' be the biggest threat. The Northmen keep good tabs on what's afoot in Aquitas, an' they plan their raids accordingly."
"Northmen...the pirates and brigands that attack our northern cities? How much of a threat are they?" Cerys asked.
"I wouldn't worry about them, Your Highness. Our northern garrisons are under a man named Commander Garidan. He's a good, solid man. He's renowned as 'the Shield,' and for good reason. He won't let neither pirate nor barbarian set foot on our shores without paying for it in blood and ignominious defeat."
"Maybe a good man's just the kind King Malphas can't trust," Savoyar muttered.
"What do you mean?" Savoyar's eye scrutinized Cerys again, a hawk's gaze.
"Don't think you need me to answer that for you, Your Highness."
Odoacer laughed. "Guderian would never throw in with the pirates, I assure you. They killed the woman he loved, right in front of his eyes. The woman he loves to this day. He will shield the Realm from the Northmen. Of that I have no doubt."
"Does he have enough men to beat them if all their clans unite?" Savoyar asked. "They might just do that, if they think the King won't be able to meet them in force." Cerys turned to Odoacer.
"Does he have enough men? Are there any forces we could send to reinforce his position? What about supplies?"
"The nearest regular army troops that aren't already in the northern coastal cities are in Aldarra, about a legion of garrison troops."
"Is there any chance that the King might need them?"
"His Majesty already has overwhelming force compared to the Hawks. I would not recommend moving them without the King's permission though."
"If the Northmen attack in force, your Commander Garidan might not be able to wait as long as it will take for messengers to reach the King and return," Savoyar said. "He's the man on the ground. If you want to know if he needs reinforcements or supplies, he's the man to ask."
"Wouldn't that take even longer? To send a messenger to him, get a reply and then ask the King?"
"You can reach Garidan faster, by pigeon. The King is in the field, moving with his armies, so a pigeon couldn't find him to deliver a message," Savoyar explained. "But we have pigeons trained to fly to all the cities of the Realm, and they've got pigeons trained to fly here. You could send one to Garidan asking him about his situation, and one to Aldarra telling the men there to be ready to march north. Then if the Northmen attack, Garidan only has to hold out until they can arrive to reinforce him in about four days at a fast march."
"Does he have pigeons trained to go to Aldarra? Could we give him the authority to summon the troops directly so they can get going as soon as possible?" Cerys asked. The thought of actually moving an army, especially without waiting for Father's permission was something she wasn't sure she dared to do. But if it was the only way to stop an attack from destroying one of the northern coastal cities...
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Post by Zabby on Feb 27, 2013 0:45:32 GMT -5
Baruch Sitting at his desk, Baruch was thumbing through some papers. New priests appointments, financial records, and complaints were littered across his desk. Letting out a large sigh, Baruch stared at the paper in front of him.
"Politics," muttered Baruch to himself. "I hate politics. All I do is try to please people or clean up after their messes." Rubbing his temples with his hands he tried to think of a solution to the town who's appointed priest had a drinking problem. Normally, he'd just send someone else there, but they didn't have any priests to spare and they weren't close enough to have anyone close by pull double duty. Malphas' reign had not been good for the Church. They were seeing the lowest number of incoming priests in record.
Frustrated, Baruch rose from his chair. He needed to go for a walk. Being outside among nature and people always clears his mind. His feet took him on the familiar path from his office to the royal gardens. While Baruch hated most things about his job, the gardens were one of the few benefits. They had some of the most beautiful, rare plants of the country. As he stopped to admire one breath taking plant when he overheard two female servants passing through the garden whispering.
"Can you believe that the Princess has called a war meeting?" one asked.
"No," the other servant replied with a giggle. "I wonder why? Maybe she just needs to play at war while the King is off doing it. You know, while he's away she can play pretend leader in his throne room as much as she wants."
Baruch's heart leaped into his throat. Cerys, he thought to himself. In the throne room? Leading? This can't be good. Baruch understood exactly the kind of man Malphas was. If the king hears about this when he comes back from battle, Cerys may not make it out with her life, and after his sister had been disgraced and sent away from the court Cerys life was still in flux. I have to do something! he thought to himself as he started to head for the throne room.
As he walked to the throne room, Baruch tried to think of a good excuse for barging in on a royal war meeting. Honestly, there were old customs about a priest being present to start the meeting in prayer, but as far as Baruch knew, Malphas did not keep the old customs, so his nobles would not have heard of it. Racking his brain for a solution while he walked, Baruch overheard a gossiping servant boy whispering to his friend in an excited tone, "Yeah, I saw it! I swear there was a dead body wrapped up in there! They were bringing it right out of the throne room!"
A dead body?Baruch thought. Lord Elhanan please don't let that have been Cerys! Please I beg you. Give me a way to get into that meeting. Let me serve you to keep my innocent niece alive.
Then Baruch had a flash of inspiration. He arrived quickly at the throne room.
"Halt!" a guard said. "No one may enter now."
The priest smiled at the young solider and said, "I'm simply a humble priest who needs to purify the throne room after the tragedy that happened here today."
The guard looked skeptical at first, but then he recognized Baruch from the temple. He realized Baruch was a high ranking priest, and nodded, stepping aside to allow Baruch to pass.
"Thank you," replied Baruch with a smile. He took a deep breath and walked calmly into the room, but his eyes were searching frantically to see what was happening. Thank Elhanan! Cerys is still alive. She seemed to be at the head of a table with a few nobles and old solider General Savoyar around her.
Not sure how to approach the situation, Baruch decided to go for broke. He approached the table, bowed and said, "My Lady Cerys. I was called for to ask the Lord to come and bless this room to pray for forgiveness and healing to counteract the evil right where the atrocity happened."
Baruch humphed to himself in his mind. I am sure the Crow King has killed many men in here. No prayer I could formulate would ever be able to lift the evil from this room. Only getting Malphas off his throne would. He is not the chosen of Elhanan. he thought as he looked at the young princess to await her response.
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Logos
Full Member
Posts: 172
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Post by Logos on Feb 28, 2013 21:34:05 GMT -5
Shyahwyn:"Alright, I'll need caltrops if you got 'em, an' any spare arrowheads that haven't been fitted to arrows, please. Some wooden stakes..." Shyahwyn said as she surveyed the training field. "Rope...some men who know how to build things if you can spare 'em, and a lumberman's saw. A sturdy burlap sack an' some rocks. Put the big things over there," she said, pointing to the far side of a large clump of shrubbery, "where they won't be seen. Don't know how much time we'll have." Once her equipment started coming in, Shyahwyn hefted five of the rocks into a tall, narrow 'W' pattern (skewed somewhat so the pattern would not be obvious) with the two points aimed toward the archers' redoubt, the openings facing the Crows' probable approach. "I don't think there's time to cover the whole field, so I'll be putting caltrops into these areas," she said, gesturing to the ground surrounding the 'W'. "That'll slow the charge of the knights that ride into those areas an' break their charge. It'll also cause more of 'em to bunch up into the clear areas, with space gettin' tighter for 'em as they cross the field. That's where we'll be concentrating our fire. If we could station a formation of archers there," she said, pointing to the opposite end of the field, "they could fire long range to entice a charge. Then as soon as the Crows charge, they disappear into the forest and come around to flank." She picked out a couple men and waved them over. "We don't have enough caltrops here, so I'd like you to help me improvise some more." Planting a stake into the ground, she got out her small hatchet and used it to split the top end. Then she crammed an arrowhead into the slot, and used a piece of one of the willow fronds she'd harvested earlier to wrap it tight and tie it off. "Plant these in the ground an' cover 'em with leaves an' grass. Start over there and work this way, so you don't step on your own work. "Alright, who's a lumberjack?" A couple men raised their hands. "See that tree?" she said, pointing to a towering oak with a wide canopy of spreading branches. "I want to be able to make that fall straight thataway," she said, swinging her right arm down in a chopping motion across the narrow points of the 'W', "when we want it to. See that sack an' those rocks? That's gonna be the counterweight, so you'll need to cut the tree so it'll be enough to bring it down, but not so much that a breeze'll do the trick before we're ready. Think you can do that before the Crows get here?" "Yes ma'am," one of them said. "Good. Thanks. With luck we'll be able to hold 'em off until you can get back to the rest of your army." Shyahwyn measured out the rope she'd been provided and set to work camouflaging part of it with willow fronds, tying big leaves to it by their stems to make it look like a vine from a distance. While the loggers started making a cut in the big tree, Shyahwyn clambered up into its heights with her rope looped over her shoulder. Picking out the right branch, she climbed out onto it, then tied one end of of the rope to it securely, camouflaging the loop and knot as well as she could in a hurry. She pursed her lips, not quite satisfied with her work, but knowing she didn't have time to perfect it. She edged further out onto the branch, carefully stringing the rope out on top of it, using twigs and knots in the bark to brace it where she could. She looped a bit of extra length back and forth to get to the part of the rope she'd disguised. She fed that out and let it hang free. Teetering on the gently swaying branch, heart pounding, she looked across to the nearby branch of another tree she'd planned to jump to. Somehow it looked a lot further away than it had from the ground. This better work... she thought, checking to see that there was enough free rope to cross the distance. What did I go an' get myself into? Alright...can't stand 'round here all day... She took a couple careful steps back along the branch, then ran, and leaped... One hand brushed the bark of the other branch and slipped away. The other grabbed on, and pain shot through her right arm as her whole weight suddenly pulled against her desperate grip. The branch sagged and creaked. Shyahwyn's heart leaped as she thought she heard cracking sounds. Rough bark dug into her right hand as her left hand flailed, and finally seized the branch. Her feet were swinging like a pendulum now, threatening to pull her from her precarious position. "Nnnnnnnngh!" she groaned, pulling herself up until, at last, she could flop her body over the branch. Another menacing crack. Hurriedly, she belly-crawled down the branch, past the crack. Blood seeped from cuts in her right hand. She dabbed it off onto the back of her skirt, where the bloody smears wouldn't affect her camouflage...until she had to turn and run anyway. She gritted her teeth at the sight of a couple blots along the branch. I'll just have to hope none of 'em notices. She carefully pulled the rope more taut, so that the "vine" part hung in a lazy arc between the two trees. Feeding more rope out, she made her way to the trunk of the tree and chose a groin where a branch emerged from it. Drawing her knife, she shaved off the bark and smoothed out the area with some gentle whittling. She tested the slide of the rope against it, then dropped the rest to the ground. She scrambled down the tree and ran to grab the burlap sack. "Could somebody please help me with these rocks?" she said, shouldering her bows. Finally, she had the sack filled and tied securely to the rope with a few feet of end left free. She climbed back up the tree, and with the help of a couple of men, hoisted the sack up, hidden from the Crows' approach by the trunk, and perched it on a branch. She balanced it precariously and tied it in place with a bowline knot. Shouts and the sounds of horses and men moving through forest in the distance. Shyahwyn gave a quick salute to the men who'd helped her and hand-signaled them to get clear. Then she climbed up to the next cluster of branches to make her own nest. She secured her backpack, un-slung her longbow, and adjusted her quiver for easy reach. She looked to Bethany and gave her what she hoped was an encouraging nod. She wished she'd had time for some pits and stakes and noose traps. As it was, this was the biggest trap field she'd ever attempted. Shyahwyn suddenly felt a pang of regret: next time, if there was a next time, she'd be on her own again, without anyone to make it possible for her to work at this scale in a hurry. Whelp. This is either gonna be my best day, or my worst.Cerys:Cerys was fretting about the Aldarran garrison when one of the guards at the door shouted "Halt!" She startled, then kicked herself for the lapse in dignity. Her mind conjured the image of a hulking black-cloaked assassin, breaking the guards like twigs the bursting into the throne room to massacre all inside... "I'm simply a humble priest who needs to purify the throne room after the tragedy that happened here today." Koh'aan Baruch! Cerys thought, glad to hear his voice. "Send him in," she said, so the guards would know he was welcome. The man came in and bowed to her. Strangely, in the slanting light from the throne room's leaded-glass windows, he reminded her of her father. With a pang, she wished he was her father. Then he would be a good king, and maybe the 'Hawks' wouldn't even be rebelling. He'd hate it though, she thought. He'd never burdened her with his problems, but she could read between the lines of their many conversations: he despised Church politics. Royal politics was surely worse. That was why it had never occurred to her to summon him to the Council. "My Lady Cerys. I was called for to ask the Lord to come and bless this room to pray for forgiveness and healing to counteract the evil right where the atrocity happened." "Of course! You would have our gratitude," Cerys said, cringing inwardly from shame, for having forgotten to have a spiritual cleansing and B'aruukhah before the start of the meeting. "You are welcome to stay and offer us spiritual guidance when you are finished if you wish, Koh'aan," she said, nodding respectfully. Some of the lords frowned. One or two scowled outright. "Your Highness, if it is spiritual advice you seek, why settle for a priest from the provinces when the High Priest himself is available at your call?" Varus of Odith Liet said. The High Priest was a King's man, naturally, and known even to Cerys for his venality. "I had not thought to disturb His Holiness, as his priestly duties to the whole Realm must be even more pressing in these times. Koh'aan Baruch is already here, so he may serve if he is willing." The look in Varus' eyes said he was on the brink of open defiance. It was everything Cerys could do to meet those eyes with a level gaze and not look away. "Oh aye, His 'Holiness' is busy alright!" Savoyar said, swaying slightly in his seat. "Runnin' his pudgy fingers through the Korban," he said with a cynical chuckle. The Korban was the Temple's fund for the support of the poor, the sick, and the injured, though most of it never reached them. Varus turned, reached across, and slapped Savoyar, whose eyes turned deadly. "How dare you speak ill of the High Priest!" the lord snapped. "Enough!" Cerys shouted, striking the butt of her delicate ivory and mother-of-pearl princess scepter on the table. "Koh'aan, please favor us with prayers for cleansing, and a B'aruukhah for Elhanan's presence and guidance," she said, then bowed her head. OOC: "B'aruukhah" is "blessing" in the Tzaddikim language.
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Post by Sovereign on Mar 1, 2013 21:45:12 GMT -5
Toma
Toma listened carefully and took in everything Melzikiah was saying making plans and adjustments to those plans on the fly as different scenarios presented themselves in his mind. One thing was certain though, they were only five; if they had any chance of surviving they would need to be fast and silent, more than that they would need to be invisible. Like the Melzikiah had pointed out, “A prolonged fight would mean death.” Those weren’t the words he used but Toma knew enough from his training as a Shadow to pick up on this implication.
With a stern order they were sent off, Eve still hated and did not trust him. That in itself was not something they needed in this type of fighting, they had to trust each other. Five against hundreds? They were an insect stinging a full grown man, but if Toma had anything to say about it...they would be a wasp.
He kept to the back allowing distance between him and the woman who probably would put an arrow in his skull if he didn’t watch out.
After they had gone aways into the forest and he could hear the sounds of the approaching unit of Crows he took the lead and signaled for them to stop. He didn’t like his plan but it was the only one he could truly sleep with if he had too. “Bethany, you take the other two guys and hit the front of the unit, Eve and I will wait for you to cause panic in their ranks and we’ll will head to the back.” He looked around at the four people with him. “I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but we need to work together or we are as good as dead.” And with that he turned and began to walk away.
Bethany
She could cut the tension between Eve and this Toma fellow with a butter, and that didn’t help the feeling of dread she had in the bottom of her soul. She didn’t like that she’d be away from Shy or Locke during this battle. She felt responsible for anything that happened to either.
But she had a job to do and she would do it no matter what.
After Toma gave them orders she took the lead of her group and made her way into a tree and waited, arrow drawn and focused.
She didn’t pay attention to anything really happening in the group of Crows just aimed and fired and jumped down from the tree and ran to another shooting arrows from behind tree’s and in tree’s whenever possible.
It didn’t take her long to stumble upon the dead body of one of the scouts. Someone was hunting them.
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Post by atlantis on Mar 2, 2013 22:24:01 GMT -5
Novorus
He was close now. He could feel it. For the majority of his hunt he hadn’t wanted to speak, knowing any voice in his head would keep him from hearing important movements of his prey-- he could stroll up with the confidence of a proud young soldier only to find his opponent behind him. But now he was sure. He knew where the rodent was hiding and he couldn’t help but want to tease it. “Come out, little lamb. You’ve nothing to fear.” His voice was still low, slithering like a snake through the branches and bushes around them.
He crept further up onto the rock where he was perched, just enough so he could see down below. The target was a young, dark-haired woman and a man, a few years older than himself, with tousled brown hair and cloaked all in black, eyes searching the surrounding area to find Novorus’s voice. His heart stopped a moment as he realized he knew the Hawk. The memory came first as a whisper, then as a devouring rage: this was the man his Master had always praised more highly than any of his students. The one to whom his Master had hoped to pass his title. The one who abandoned Shadow Blade to fight for the Hawks, who still held onto the emotions that tied him to the past. Novorus was a novice when they first met, but the memory of him would taunt him to the end of his days. Unless... unless I end it now, he thought darkly. Shadow Blade will think me far more worthy if I kill him.
He forgot himself momentarily, leaping from his perch into the open. “Do you remember me?” he asked poisonously. “Do you at least remember your Master?”
OT: just gonna say I'm thoroughly engrossed in Cerys's storyline. ^.^
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Post by Zabby on Mar 10, 2013 1:27:33 GMT -5
Baruch Listening to the conversation, hearing the nobles argue, it reminded Baruch of how much he hated nobles and politics. Taking a few seconds to pause and prevent his temper from rising, Baruch put on his persona of being an uninformed, non-wordly priest.
"Yes, Princess," Baruch said with a bow. Then he turned to Varus and said with earnest, "I wish the High Lord could be here as well, but he is in intense prayer and fasting now. He enters into this ritual this time every week. We are under strict orders to not disturb him. I will be sure to report everything to him later."
Of course, Baruch knew that the High Priest suffered from many of the deadly sins. It was not prayer and fasting he entered into once a week, but rather he satisfied his libido with a group of women. It was common knowledge around the capital, but playing at ignorance was Barch's best weapon right now.
"Excuse me," he said to the group and walked to the center of the room. Here, Baruch pulled out a small book containing prayers. He flipped through the book until he found the one he was looking for. Then he began to read aloud.
O heavenly Father, Almighty Elhanan, we humbly beseech you to bless and sanctify this room and all who dwell therein and everything else in it, and fill it with all good things; grant to the inhabitants, O Lord, the abundance of heavenly blessings and from the richness of the earth every substance necessary for life, and finally direct their desires to the fruits of your mercy. Incline, O Lord, your ear to our prayers as we ask that you would place the soul of your servant, which you have caused to depart from this world, into the region of peace and light; and unite him with all our ancestors past. Through Elhanan our Lord.
Then turning back to the group, Baruch said obviously embarrassed, "I'm sorry, my Lady, I can not lead you in a B'aruukhah at this moment. I do not happen to have an appropriate one in my book. I seem to have not adjusted to my life in the capital very well and still only carry a book of basic prayers, more suited to country life, and I have not memorized the appropriate B'aruukhah for a war council because I have not said it often enough. I could run and get the book that contains it, but I'm sure that would be very rude to our esteemed guests here. Their time is so very important. I would would hate to waste even a second of it."
Baruch's shame turned into a beaming smile towards the nobles. Hopefully, they would be lured in by his trap. As long as Baruch played the part of an nonthreatening fool, he could easily double talk his way around these arrogant nobles. Hopefully, he could also cool some tempers to make it easier for Cerys to get her way. Baruch only hoped that Cerys caught on to what he was doing and did not blow his cover.
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Post by atlantis on Aug 4, 2013 18:25:44 GMT -5
AvanBereft of his armor and without a weapon, he continued to sprint through the forest. Behind him, he heard a loud commotion, his father shouting and then the stampede of hooves as the army fled whatever was attacking them. They seemed to be taking another direction, however. Avan sped up, eager to get away from the danger that was after the Crows. Up ahead, he saw a place where the trees stopped and people were working diligently. He realized quickly that he must have found part of the Hawk camp Lucien had mentioned. He slowed down, creeping up to the edge of a tent in hopes of figuring out how best to approach them, unsure of how they would receive him. A pair of rough hands grabbed him from behind, lifting him up and pinning his arms in place as though he weighed nothing (though, after years in prison and having not eaten much since his escape, he probably didn't weigh much). "I found one!" his captor shouted loudly in his ear. Avan was carried a few feet into the camp and shoved onto the ground in front of two men much younger than himself. "I found one of their scouts," the man who caught him said proudly. "He was spying on us; probably gonna take the info back to Wylder." Avan couldn't do much but gape for several moments, taking in his surroundings. He could never have imagined that the Hawks would still be this strong, this organized after a decade in hiding. Then the accusation hit his ear. "I would never!" he argued. "I came to join you. And to warn you. Lucien Wylder is headed this direction. He'll be here any minute." OT: It feels so good to post in this thread again.
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