RE: The Rise of Domrius (Full Version)

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Bastet -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (2/26/2015 10:33:13)

After talking with his disciple, the man moved towards the command tent. He was wearing nothing but a grey shirt and stained, brown pants. His work required him to wear disposable clothes, as they could be damaged at any time. He towered over many of the man he walked by, though he didn’t stop for anyone. His toned muscles were highly visible due to his light clothing, and his white beard and hair mixed nicely with the golden colour of his skin. His appearance posed a stark contrast against the northmen he walked among to reach his destination.

He stepped past the entrance of the tent, and listened as Ishia’s partner began recounting the mission. He didn’t pay much attention to Ytha, as he had already heard the story in much greater detail, and stood in the background. When Ytha changed the subject from the infiltration to her personal considerations about Ishia, though, the man felt compelled to intervene. He walked to a more central position, and spoke for his pupil. His jovial voice echoed from one corner of the tent to another.

“Greetings, commanders of the Alliance. I am Ishia’s master, and I will take her place for the duration of this meeting. I’ll only speak for matters concerning the actions of my pupil, and leave the strategizing to those who command our main force on the battlefield.”

He turned to Je’s infiltrator, giving her a quick stare before talking directly to her. Ishia’s description of the girl fit her perfectly, though her unusual appearance still surprised the mysterious man.

“About matters directly concerning the last infiltration, I’d invite you all to speak directly with Ishia. She is currently resting in the Zaran camp, but she will be available for private conversations after she has slept. Though the high degree of effectiveness of our cooperating covert groups has been proven, some missions are best carried out individually. It is best if each mission is evaluted on a case-by-case basis.”

As the man finished talking, he backed off to leave space for the other commanders. If he could convince Ytha to stay out of Ishia’s way unless cooperation was required, he was certain that his pupil would’ve had a much easier life.




TJByrum -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (2/26/2015 17:56:19)

As the last fledgling members of Alquen's forces retreated back into their newly-constructed gates Volrun was reassured the battle was over. Victories cries could be heard from all across the field as the Alliance's soldiers pulled away and disengaged entirely. The Varan were quick to round up their dead men and retrieve their Ki'gars to, once again, send off to their families. Another victory well-earned, but at what cost? Volrun recalled the daring Thanisgard charge and wondered what casualties it may have brought. But it soon became evident when the commanding officer of Thanisgard cried out in painful emotion. Trevor Minx was bent over the deceased body of one of his officers, Thomas. Volrun could not help but feel sorry for the man, but that's when his thoughts became dark.

The commander of Thanisgard mourned over his fallen officer, and not even an hour ago Volrun killed his own commander. It was a sick and twisted irony. It was necessary, Volrun told himself, I did what had to be done.




The Varan soldiers returned to their makeshift camp blotted across the southern flank of the Alliance's camp. They would be drinking and celebrating tonight, as the Varan always did after a battle, and tell great stories of the conflict at hand.

A few of the Alliance's officers, including Ishia's 'master' and Ytha herself, recounted their exploits within the Alquen camp. While the information was indeed valuable and left some open questions, Volrun was most concerned about the large army. If Alquen's forces were indeed as large as Ytha said, then what was the real purpose behind this mission? An experienced general would have used the variety of soldiers and advantageous size of Domrius' forces to easily crush the Alliance the day before. But Domrius was an experienced general, so why was he hesitating? The question begged to be answered, but Volrun chose to ignore it; if anyone could find an answer to that, it would be the infiltration teams - not the Varan.

Deeper down in his gut Volrun felt another premonition arise. What would come on the day Domrius did use his advantage? It became quite evident to Volrun that his goal was not simply to defend Gripclaw Pass... this was a suicide mission.




There was still the question with Koros Jarn and his absence. Volrun fiddled in his mind about how to deal with the situation. He had thought of informing the Alliance Koros was killed in battle, but that was dishonest, and Volrun was a man of honor. No... Volrun had to tell the truth. He personally dueled and slew his superior, Koros Jarn of Asgeir, and proceeded to take his place shortly afterwards. It had to be done. It was necessary.

On his way back to the camp he caught up with Aesa, the up-and-coming shieldmaiden who had once again proven herself in the defense of the pass. "Aesa, it is good to see you alive still. Good job in the battle, as brief as we were in it. It is good to know I have someone I can trust."

Aesa was quick to respond with a smile and stand at attention, "of course, sir. I'm trying my best. We are lucky we survived another day, though I'm certain the Alliance could have suceeded without us."

"At ease, Aesa," Volrun said. "Now, I'll ask you to attend to the camp. Make sure things are in order, collect the Ki'gars of our fallen warriors and prepare them to be sent home." Aesa nodded and was about to head off before Volrun stopped her, "and one more thing. Prepare a funeral pyre... Koros was a hero and we should honor his passing, as disappointing as the ordeal was."

Aesa looked down at the dirt before finally looking back up at Volrun, "yes sir. And you? Will you be returning to your tent?"

Volrun shook his head. "No, I uh.... I think I'll pay my respects to the Thanisgardian commander. Trevor Minx, I think his name is. He lost a valuable officer in today's battle, and he was mourning heavily it seemed. I can't help but feel the absence of our own forces may have played a role in his death, and I feel the need to apologize."

"I... I understand." The guilt hit Aesa again. What good was war when it all it brought was chaos and death? She would need to question Volrun later, on why war was so glorified by a culture such as the Varan. Volrun put his hand on her shoulder, nodded, and then turned in the direction of the Thanisgard camp, intending to find Trevor and offer his condolences.




Dragonnightwolf -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (2/27/2015 11:50:41)

Thanisgard: By all that falls, so too must rise the light: Trevor "By the storms of my ancestors." Trevor stated, warily, as the fresh horse drew close to Ytha. He listened to the report and his face was grim, angered, perhaps it was a mixture of many things. Trevor left without saying a single word to any of the allies. His eyes were haunted and his face was drawn. His mind was distant, his movements were automatic. The man could recall to his thoughts, days where war and bloodshed did not take it's toll. Where the crisp, green meadows lurked. The billowing winds and the wings of the Golden Eagles soaring in the skies above Thanisgard. The landscape of mountains in the hills, the many times they defended the castle walls. The sounds of horses wailing and people screaming. Storms that would cause a man to shake in his boots from fear that some ungodly deity from above. The torrential rains that would pour down causing muck and mud to spring up, endangering the lives of men and the lives of horses alike. What madness would possibly send a man to the very brink of doom such as this?

And yet, here he was. Clad, proud, rallying troops. A man born to fight. A man born to lead. Yet what did he truly have to show for it? What was the purpose of maintaining the pass? Trevor couldn't help but feel something with the terrible news that Ytha had brought. He was hoping for something more. And yet. He had a gut instinct. Something about Ytha's posture and eyes. Something about the way she said what she had said, made him have doubts. Something that perhaps she withheld? But Trevor passed this off currently as perhaps his nerves being rattled, or his body being struck by that blooming bolt of blazing hot energy. Which lead back to the flashback of battle. Retrieving the information of battle. The mage had grown way too confident in his abilities and power. Power was only good when someone welded it properly. When someone used it wisely.
Trevor had already known in the pit of his stomach, in his very gut, that when he had seen the mages of Alquen he did not like the looks of it. Surely the Oramus collective had known something would happen.

The fact that the enemy was so very prepared in just one days time for both the collective of mages, and the collective of horsemen of Thanisgard suggested a sudden thought to Trevor. "Are we being betrayed?" he thought to himself. A betrayal in the ranks could very well explain why the enemy was suddenly so very prepared for them. It was one thing to be able to go up against the south and take them all out. But here? and now? at the pass? Trevor frowned as the horse made it's way to the campsite. his thoughts turning over this new possibility in his mind. "But who could it be? Whom among the allies is betraying the lot of us?" Trevor wasn't at all sure about this. There was, after all no evidence to support the theory, except for the fact that the enemy was so very prepared in just one day for the alliance's tactics. And that really bothered the man the most. "Am I going mad? Have I completely lost it?" Perhaps the leading soldier was just tired. Perhaps this was all a bad dream and Trevor would wake up to find none of this had happened. Perhaps he was stuck in some kind of alternate universe where black was white, and light was darkness and everything that was supposedly good in this world, was wrong and blind.

"But what if it isn't a dream? What if I'm not going crazy? What then? Can I truly believe there is a spy among us, giving away our secrets and our plans?" It seemed so very, very far fetched. And yet his gut and his intelligence were observing the battlefield and saying "There is something terribly wrong with this picture." But again, there was no proof of any kind that any sort of wrongdoing was afoot. "Maybe I'm just tired from the bloodshed we've been exposed to." the commander thought. Perhaps it was as simple as that. Or perhaps it wasn't. Which brought his mind back to Thanisgard. He missed the landscape. The beauty. Sure he had soldiers, but that's not the same as being among the people. Around the countless horses. Here, all he had were the war-steeds. They weren't exactly, precisely, friendly company. His thoughts drifted again to the grasslands and the meadows. The flowers and the fields and the people.

The cascading rains that fell as if all of the heavens had opened up and had cast upon everybody, the drenching feel of a good, soaking, pleasant rain. He remembered all the laughter of children, the hushed whispers of goodnights in the darkness during patrols. The kindly face of the king and queen.

So too was it that he missed the smell of homely baked muffins, or a good, hard, mead. Here, the stuff they had barely passed as adequate and wasn't even so fit as to be drunk by the likes of him. It wasn't strong enough at all.

The war steed he was on stopped moving, but Trevor had not noticed. His mind was still recalling the beautiful weather, the rainbows, the butterflies. Was that why he was here? Was that why he had chosen to undertake the Thanisgardian army to this point and time?

"Sir?" A voice said from nearby. But Trevor completely acted like there was nobody there. "But what of today?" he thought again, his flashback returning to the battlefield and playing out in his brain again. "What about the fact they had been so well prepared from our very first encounter, surely, Domrius isn't that good." So there again, did the thoughts trouble his mind. He'd keep this all to himself for the time being. Observe tomorrow's battle and see what really transpired. He knew one thing. Something about all this, about how so well prepared the enemy was, about how the South had fallen to the enemy, it all felt terribly, terribly wrong. He didn't know why. He just had a feeling.

"Sir?!" The voice again. A hand clapped onto his elbow and Trevor instinctively swung his hand towards his blade. "Sir, at ease. It's me. Harry!" Trevor's brain returned to the here and now. He gave a clear stare at his sub-commander. "Sorry Harry, Instinct took over."

"Aye sir I understand! If you'd like, there's food, water and a pillow with your name on it." Trevor slid off the horse and wavered weakly, catching the creature around the neck with his arms. "Sir!" Harry said with concern. "Leave it Harry, I'll be fine. I just. I had a long trek back, and I was lost in thought."

The horse snorted softly and stared deeply at the commanders eyes. He held the gaze of the beast until it finally turned it's eyes away. Trevor gave the war steed a gentle rub on the chin and left.

Upon entering the tent, the man practically went flying headfirst towards his map table, having tripped over a footstool someone had carelessly left right in the pathway, catching himself at only the very last moment to stop his momentum. One of the men came in laughing only to be shocked to see the look of anger on Trevor's face.

"Oh. Sir. It's. It's you. I. I thought it was Ullery returning from the." Trevor glared at the man and slowly pushed the footstool out of the way. "Did you not realize, that this was my quarters?" "I.. I'm sorry sir I." Trevor raised his hand slowly to stop the man's explanations.

"Just. be more careful in the future, if you please." Trevor stated with a friendly smile. "Yes sir." The man left without another word.

Trevor looked over the maps while he ate. He drank of the stuff that was weak and groaned. "Ugh. if this is all we have. We're really in trouble."

Trevor laid his head down to rest for perhaps a few hours, but sleep would not come. His mind was too haunted by thoughts. It was only slightly later in the evening when Harry entered. "Yes?" Trevor asked without looking at his sub commander.

"We're. Ready. sir. You know." Harry quieted down and Trevor looked toward the man. It suddenly dawned on him what Harry was referring to. Bolting straight up out of bed, the crazed look of grief in his eyes as the commander grasped up his blade and headed for the entry-way.

Harry followed as Trevor made his way to the gathering. The leading soldier nodded and a few drums along with a make-shift flute played a tune. The entire alliance could hear the song, if they so chose to listen. Those who chose not to listen, were also entitled to their decision. But the music itself, compelled to listen with just it's melody. A melody of honoring the dead.

"Hai ha ho hey." The soldiers sang solemnly. "Hai ha ho hey, Hai ha ho ah. Hai ha ho hey." "Hai ha ho hey, Hai ha ho hey, Hai ha hey ha. Hai ha ho hey."

Trevor himself sang amongst the Hai ha ho hey-s. "Deep in the dawn, my blood is drawn. Deep in the pain, my blade draws rain droplets of the same. Thy heart has gone, so long so long, Yes I must remain, steadfast with the pain."

"As if the skies would open, gods above me, do you even know I'm here." "Shedding these tears."

"Yes draw the lines, a bitter fight to the nights, ancestors guide my way." "Let me know. When the winds begin to blow. For mine and my friends."

"The battle never ends."

Trevor removes his helmet now and places it on the ground as he picks up Thomas's corpse. "Dearly brother, battle another, hear the skies ring out with pain. No battle, no rain."

The man walks forward, a line of pain on his face as he brings Thomas's body up to the fire pit that has been erected for the man.

"Before we break, we must make a stand, we must take, we must honor who we can. Remember who fell. Remember who fell in this day."

The commander tosses Thomas's body into the fire, salutes and says "Good-bye Thomas."

"We are released at the end of our terms, we stand before, those who journeyed alone, gods help us. Light save us. What is going on?!"

At this next verse the group follows his lead.

"What is going ON! We must be strong! We must carry on. Beyond the break of the clouds. Ride him home NOW! Ride him home safe and sound. Ride my brother, my fellow comrade. Ride him home! Feel the thunder of our hooves! As we crack as we grieve. Beyond the break of the chains. What has transpired this day. Hey listen to the sounds, hear the voices now and know we will have our day."

At this last verse Trevor alone sings. "As the last rays of the sun, go down beyond the skies. We wish you farewell, we wish you goodbye. As the flames burn in the night, the darkness the light, the pain and the fright, ride into the skies, bleed into the night. Goodbye, good bye."

Trevor watches the body burn to ash, then orders the fires be put out (there were three of them).

By the time Volrun would have arrived to the quarters of Trevor Minx, he would find it vacant and unused. One of the nearby Thanisgard soldiers would inform him that Trevor had gone off in the direction of the Strategy tent right after the procession was over.

It is still very late at night and he pours over the maps again, and again, looking for some small strategy, trying to come up with his next thoughts for tomorrow.

Around one in the morning, his head slumps down onto the map he was reading. Asleep. Harry comes in around seven in the morning, before any of the other commanders have arrived, and puts a hand gently upon Trevor's shoulder. The commander snaps awake grasping at the man’s throat. He realizes it's Harry and releases him. "Will you stop doing that? What are you trying to do, get yourself killed?" Harry offers him a morning biscuit for breakfast and leaves.

Trevor sits with a chair facing the entranceway. His eyes close again. Has he dozed off again? Surely he couldn't be that tired.

It isn't until the supreme Mage walks in that Trevor speaks. "you." his voice is full of anger and his eyes snap open and narrow. "You. Do you have any idea, what your strategy cost my army? Do you have any idea what harm you did to me personally?" Trevor stands up and approaches the mage getting as close as he possibly can without invading that personal boundary of space.

Trevor's hand reaches down to his sword. "Do you have any idea of what your overconfidence has brought?!" He draws the blade free but leaves it pointing at the ground, forcing his hand to remain still. "YOU BLOODY NEARLY COST US THE PASS with your overconfidence in your powers."

"If you ever. And I do mean, EVER, strike my mind like you did on the battlefield, EVER, again like that. I will not hesitate next time. Understand? And the lightning? Really? Did you not realize how close I came to death because of your attack?"

Trevor forces his hand to put the sword back in it's sheathe and stares at the mage. "Seriously mage. Get yourself under control!" The commander then looks the mage dead in the eyes and says in a low enough voice for only the supreme mage to hear. "By the way. I saw your face on the battlefield. I saw how much effect that took on you. So I ask with allied concern. Do I need to start worrying about you? And please, do not insult my intelligence by denying the fact there’s something wrong.”

Trevor moves his hand away from the sword hilt entirely and that returning composure of calm washes over his face. “Sorry, I’m just. That last battle cost me Thomas. One of my sub-commanders.” The commanders face is drawn with pain for but a moment. “How bad is it really?” He finally asks the mage, looking at the ally with genuine respect and concern.




Draycos777 -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (2/27/2015 13:24:28)

Night before the meeting

After Articis was giving a full account of Ytha's infiltration from Hyden, he made his way back to his tent. The flaps of the tent's entrance were pinned open and Rayna was sitting next to the fire pit. As he entered, Rayna turned her head his way and frowned when she noticed and lack of a second person with him. She had been relieved when she had seen her sister had returned safely, but it soon turned to disbelief when Ytha had proposed to joining that 'infiltrators' unit with her own. Articis instantly read Rayna's thoughts and laughed.

"Worried about that care-free sister of your's?"

Rayna turned her head back to the fire and used her right hand as a head rest. More as a way to block her blushing face from her Papa's view then anything else. "Not really." Was all she could mumble as a reply.

"Ytha parted ways before coming back to the camp. She said she wanted to have a little 'fun' before the fight tomorrow."

"So she went out hunting?" Rayna took her eyes off the fire and placed them on Articis who smiled slightly at her question.

"Who knows? Maybe."

Rayna was a little annoyed at this answer, however, a look of remembrance appeared across her face.

"Oh, that's right! A letter arrived for you." Rayna pointed to the desk, where a white envelope was laying in wait.

"Hmm, is that so?"

Picking up the envelope, Articis opening it up a read the contents inside. Articis' face quickly became much more serious and lost it's normal smile. After finishing the letter, he dropped both the letter and the envelope into the fire. Rayna caught a quick glimpse of the letter, but said nothing; Rayna only continued her staring of the fire.

After awhile, Articis broke the silence.

"It seems like we got our new orders."

"Ya" Rayna said in agreement, still watching the fire.




"Oh? So this Ishia's camp huh? A little to noisy for my taste though."

Ytha was standing in front of Ishia's tent. She had taken up her master's offer to 'speak directly with Ishia', of course it was more along the lines of bothering the girl rather then speaking of the mission. Ytha had, however changed her clothing, so she was being introduced as 'a weird, short, witch girl that's asking for Ishia.' Ytha closed her eyes for a moment and pretended that she didn't hear the word 'short'.

"Ahh, so slow. Do your introductions take as long as your troops walking speed too?" Ytha stood outside the tent with her arms folded.




Zephyrial -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (2/27/2015 17:17:51)

Every contingent who had fought had lost men to arrow and pike. Easily two hundred had fallen this day - a number that was dwarfed by the Alquen army's losses but which was still too many, too many... Of the Collective forces, five Sentinels had lost their lives shielding their charges from the hail of arrows. Four mages had likewise fallen, pierced. Drained entirely by the efforts of their spellmaking, all but a few of the mages lay motionless on the ground, unconscious - another four of those would never awaken. Oblivious to the celebratory cries of the warrior divisions, the men and women of the Oramus Collective left the battlefield in sombre silence. Scooping up the stricken mages, the Sentinels carried them gently to their tents, ensuring their safety; only then did they return to retrieve their own dead. Despite their rough backgrounds, the rogues had adopted the role of Sentinel with touching vigour, and Sayden found that he had warmed to them considerably.

He wandered slowly back to his tent, visions of the battle and the words of the returned scouts tumbling around in his head. He was certain, now - Domrius was toying with them. If the scouts' reports were accurate - and he saw no reason to assume that they were not - then the Pass already belonged to the Alquen Empire. At any time, at any place, they could overrun them completely. What, then, was he waiting for? No matter how much he racked his brains, he could not reach a conclusion. Lying in his bed, he cursed his helplessness, his foolishness, the situation they found themselves in, and the name of Domrius. He cursed until he could curse no more.



The sun rose, and Sayden, clad now in black robes of mourning, walked steadily towards the command tent. Behind him, the dwindling smoke of the funeral pyres - one in the Sentinel camp, one his his - cast eerie shadows upon the ground. The mages slept long and deep after their ordeal, and when all but four rose from their beds, they were engulfed in sorrow. As was their way, the mages had conveyed their eight fallen comrades to the top of the funeral pyre themselves, before arranging themselves in a circle around it, and engulfing it in a beautiful sphere of fire. It lacked something of the naturalness of the standard pyre, perhaps, but to them it represented the act of returning the spirits of their fallen comrades to Lore's mana core, there to mingle with the essences of magic in perpetuity. Sayden himself had contributed no flame, but had spoken with genuine pride of their brave sacrifices, and shed tears that evaporated instantly in the heat.

He entered the tent. Several commanders were already present, including the one whom he dreaded most - Trevor, the commander of the Thanisgardian cavalry. As expected - and deserved - Sayden was forced to weather his expressions of wrath and sorrow. The man roared with fury, cursed him, thrust his sword into the earth. He did not, however, attempt to strike him. As he raved, Sayden watched impassively, back as straight as he could make it. He bore no enmity towards this man - his every word was coloured true, and he shared his frustration. He felt the strain of battle, the effort of maintaining a strong exterior in the face of horror and death. This was the life of a soldier, he realised.

At the man's final words, Sayden sighed, his face softened somewhat, and he ran his fingers through his thin hair in an exhausted manner. With a sombre expression, he addressed the whole tent, his tone conciliatory.

"Commanders. At this crucial juncture, I would offer you my deepest condolences for all who have lost men in this last battle. I had confidence in my strategy, but I was unprepared for the possibility of Domrius possessing an artifact as powerful as that which he fielded. The fault for this failure rests on my shoulders alone, and I can only apologise."

He steeled himself.

"I know that some among you may consider myself and my men to be typical mages - arrogant, cruel, aloof. Certainly there are many like that among the ranks of the Collective. But they have not come to aid you. Instead you have us, and though we wield magic, not steel, we are still soldiers. We will stand with you, fight with you and die with you, and we will make mistakes and suffer defeats just as you do. I will make no secret of it anymore - my health is failing. Even as my power grows, my spirit falters - it is the consequence of a path I willingly chose long ago. But a soldier does not abandon his country, his realm, while he still has the will to fight. I will see the last battle of this war, Thanisgard commander, I promise you that. I will not need to live any longer."

"Now, he intoned, turning his attention to the campaign table, "let us ensure that the final battle comes later, not sooner."




Bastet -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (2/27/2015 18:11:43)

Ytha really had picked just the right time to visit the Zaran camp. If only Ishia had been in her tent, that night, she would’ve sighed just as soon as she recognized her previous partner. The girl’s whereabouts were an information closely guarded by her master, and a guard had been placed in front of the entrance of his apprentice’s private quarters. Anybody who tried to force their way inside without permission would quickly have tested the efficiency of the Zaran crossbows on themselves: the infiltrators’ etiquette imposed that any potentially dangerous subjects should always be closely observed.

The soldier standing guard in front of Ishia’s tent stood still as a statue as Ytha approached, only talking to her when she made it clear that she wanted to see his commander. The girl’s tent didn’t excel in size or style, being made of simple, black-painted leather. The only relevant detail was an insignia of a golden snake painted sightly above the entrance. Similar tents adorned the grounds the Zarans had taken as their own, though there weren’t more than a few. Those placed under Ishia’s command shared living areas while staying at the Pass. Noises commonly associated with a working blacksmith were coming from a yellow pavilion, which posed a stark contrast from the other Zaran tents.

The face-cover the man wore made what he said sound more like a growl than a greeting, but that didn’t matter. The girl’s fancy dressing didn’t impress him, nor did her impatient manners. He was there to bar the way to his commander’s tent, and only two people could override his order to do so. Still, the Zaran culture imposed a deep respect for welcome guests, and the man avoided turning away the would-be visitor rudely.

“Greetings, honourable guest. I am afraid that I’ll have to inform you that Ishia Rinchen does not currently wish to be disturbed. If you are seeking to speak privately with my commander, you’ll have to come back at a later time.”

On the other side of the camp, one of the Zaran sentries readied her crossbow. She made sure to stay hidden while keeping an eye on the guest from Je, ready to intervene if the girl made any bold moves.




black knight 1234567 -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/1/2015 15:34:03)

13 men and women died that day. 13 men and women who put their utmost trust in Sayden of the Ormaus collective, only to end up being counted within the ranks of the dead.
7 of their brothers were dispatched to the field, along with their commander, to pick up the bodies. Garin looked upon the battlefield as he and his men proceeded to bring the bodies towards Garin, laying them down on the floor.
''They died a clean death'' is all the commander could muster to say, for most of his fallen me where pierced. Fellwalker tended to all their bodies, and removed every single arrow by hand, discarding them all but one, as they hitched the bodies on their horses, 2 and 2 each.

They arrived at the camp once more, the entirety of the encampment had a different feel and mood around it. Despite this being considered a victory for the Alliance and the men of Gilrade, it was their first true brush with mortality as the previously laid down plan all but broke down, the winning play was an all out act of desperation by the men of Thanisgard, that wasn't the most encouraging of thoughts.

The men knew what to anticipate, as the pyres were set up and the flag of Gilrade flew once more, the men laid their departing words towards the deceased as they threw their torches unto the wood, the Viscount included this time. He just...stared, a cold blank expression on his face, soon all his soldiers went to rest, only he remained besides the burning fire....

The next morning

The sun creeped through the fabric of the tents, an indication of a new day on the horizon. Viscount Fellwalker made his way out of his very tent, a stack full of letters in hand as the nearest soldier walked up to his commander, quickly retrieving said stack before bowing out. And now, his attention was directed towards the base of command for the Alliance troops.

Slowly and at a deliberate pace, he made his way towards the the commanders, just as he was about to enter, he could overhear those words:
''arrogant, cruel, aloof. Certainly there are many like that among the ranks of the Collective. But they have not come to aid you. Instead you have us, and though we wield magic, not steel, we are still soldiers. We will stand with you, fight with you and die with you, and we will make mistakes and suffer defeats just as you do. I will make no secret of it anymore - my health is failing. Even as my power grows, my spirit falters - it is the consequence of a path I willingly chose long ago. But a soldier does not abandon his country, his realm, while he still has the will to fight. I will see the last battle of this war, Thanisgard commander, I promise you that. I will not need to live any longer."
The sound was indistinguishable, it was the man of the hour.

''That's a nice sob story, Sayden.'' and thus Fellwalker entered the tent, as he circled the war table.
''But it does not answer for the lives of 13 men who were lost in the battle. 13 men and women with families, hopes and aspirations, lost because of your incompetence.'' his voice calm but with a tint of anger underneath, bubbling and begging to burst.
''I will not press this matter further, but you will find no sympathy here.''

''Domrius knew exactly how to pull our strings and outsmart us. There is something very, very wrong here. Somehow he's 1 step ahead of us and I don't believe in coincidences. He must be getting his information from somewhere.''
''I'd be willing to lend a few of my men to set up check points within the camp, so nothing gets in and out without our knowledge. It may of course simply be strategical genius on our enemies part, but we mustn't left as tone unturned.''




Draycos777 -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/1/2015 16:45:28)

“Greetings, honorable guest. I am afraid that I’ll have to inform you that Ishia Rinchen does not currently wish to be disturbed. If you are seeking to speak privately with my commander, you’ll have to come back at a later time.”

The guard infront of Ishia's tent denied Ytha's request to meet her.

This was a little annoying. Wasn't she the one who had said to meet with her earlier if people had questions? It doesn't really look good if you say one thing but do another. Another sound pricked Ytha's ear. A sound that made the girl ever more annoyed. In such a small camp, it was impossible to hide the sound of stretching bowstrings from her ears.

"Oh well, guess I'll just bother her later then. However your commander has something of mine I'd like back."

With that, Ytha turned around a whispered so that only the guard could hear her.

"Oh, and if your going to aim a crossbow at someone, at least make sure they aren't familiar with a bow and arrow. Or at least aim a the spot you know they'll be standing at before the show up. Okay?"

Walking back to her own camp, Ytha took the time to clap her hands to the candles that glowed outside of Je's camp; twenty for each member that died on the battlefield.




As the commanders of Je waited for everyone else to enter the camp, they were giving quite the shock. The Thanisgard commander went after Collective's commander as soon as he saw him. When he drew his sword, Articis stood up just in case he needed to draw them apart. Ytha and Rayna mistaking the situation drew they're own weapons in case they had to protect their papa.
Thankfully neither event unfolded, as the Thanisgard resheathed his sword. Breathing out a sigh of relief, the two girls did likewise.

When asked, the Collective's commander revealed the truth behind poor heath.

"I know that some among you may consider myself and my men to be typical mages - arrogant, cruel, aloof. Certainly there are many like that among the ranks of the Collective. But they have not come to aid you. Instead you have us, and though we wield magic, not steel, we are still soldiers. We will stand with you, fight with you and die with you, and we will make mistakes and suffer defeats just as you do. I will make no secret of it anymore - my health is failing. Even as my power grows, my spirit falters - it is the consequence of a path I willingly chose long ago. But a soldier does not abandon his country, his realm, while he still has the will to fight. I will see the last battle of this war, Thanisgard commander, I promise you that. I will not need to live any longer."

It was at this moment that his biggest fan entered the tent.

''That's a nice sob story, Sayden. But it does not answer for the lives of 13 men who were lost in the battle. 13 men and women with families, hopes and aspirations, lost because of your incompetence. I will not press this matter further, but you will find no sympathy here.''

Articis eye narrowed at this and his smile faded slightly. "Quiet, Sir. Fellwalker. No one was asking for your sympathy to begin with. Maybe you failed to notice, but the archers of last day's battle were highly skilled." Articis greatly disliked willful rudeness, and he planed on letting this man know. "What was your plan again? Ah yes, a charge right into the hail of arrows. I'm sorry, but I'd rather take an incompetent plan that failed because of the off chance of a highly powerful artifact then the incompetent plan that fails on it's own with no help at all. We no doubt would have lost even more then those thirteen men of your's with a full frontal charge, so what right do you have to speak of one's incompetence? None."

With his words to the Viscount done with, Articis turned to the rest of the commanders, he face soften a bit. "In terms with the artifact, I doubt this is the last time we'll see one. In fact we might even see other today. If Domrius has no problem using, and in this case losing, such a strong item this early, then either it's nothing to him, or he has many more from which he can chose to use."




Dragonnightwolf -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/1/2015 18:15:29)

Thanisgard: An arousal of suspicion: Chapter 5: Trevor Trevor looked to his right when ''That's a nice sob story, Sayden.'' and thus Fellwalker entered the tent, as he circled the war table.
''But it does not answer for the lives of 13 men who were lost in the battle. 13 men and women with families, hopes and aspirations, lost because of your incompetence.'' his voice calm but with a tint of anger underneath, bubbling and begging to burst.
''I will not press this matter further, but you will find no sympathy here.''

''Domrius knew exactly how to pull our strings and outsmart us. There is something very, very wrong here. Somehow he's 1 step ahead of us and I don't believe in coincidences. He must be getting his information from somewhere.''
''I'd be willing to lend a few of my men to set up check points within the camp, so nothing gets in and out without our knowledge. It may of course simply be strategical genius on our enemies part, but we mustn't left as tone unturned.''


The man's face frowned as a fellow commander echoed, what he himself had thought just last night. That there was something very wrong with the looks of the battlefield.

The Thanisgardian also noted Articis reply and an eyebrow rose slowly. "Articis. If that were indeed such a case, then why did they try so valiantly to defend the artifact? To say it was no real heavy loss, seems questionable at best. Considering what measures they actually took in order to try to guarantee it's survival. In fact as I recall, the mages tossed themselves at my men and the wagon took off at a leading speed to indicate it would be of great value to them."

The commander of Thanisgard gave a steady look at Arctis. Was the man hiding something? And what to say of the matter involving the thoughts on that sense of wrongness on the battlefield?

Trevor for whatever reason it was, chose not to mention his own concerns at the present time. If there indeed was a person divulging information to the enemy, they'd either be outside the tent, or they would be in this room right now.

But again Trevor had no proof whatsoever of anybody doing anything wrong. Something about Arctis's replies didn't quite sit well with the commander. He couldn't place his finger on it just yet. But explaining away and completely ignoring what Fellwalker had said concerning the wrongness, bothered the man greatly.

Something was indeed amiss. But without any factual proof. It was difficult to make any sort of accusation.

"In any case, we should talk about what plan of action to make today. Anybody have any ideas?"




TJByrum -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/1/2015 21:06:43)

Volrun did not have the pleasure of finding the Thanisgardian commander, Trevor, in his tent. He was told Commander Minx had reported to the strategy tent, and so Volrun decided it best to wait until morning. It was past dusk and the Varan encampment seemed to be quietening down as the jeers and cheers slowly faded. The drunken men and women who had been celebrating the battle drifted off into slumber, awaiting the challenges that would most assuredly come the next day.




The next morning was off to a somewhat tumultuous start. Trevor seemed angry, and rightfully so, at Sayden - the commander of the Oramus Collective. Once Sayden explained himself, Garin Fellwalker of Gilrade spoke up, similarly disappointed with the previous battle. Articis of Je was the next to speak up, standing up for Sayden. Trevor spoke up again and said some words with a mighty accusatory tone. Things were getting tense and so Volrun decided it best to speak up now.

"Now hold on there, Trevor," Volrun began, raising his hand up at the commanding officer of Thanisgard. "Let's not throw out wild accusations that will surely lead our forces to shambles. We all lost men yesterday, and the day before, just as I am sure we will lose men today - until this conflict is done and over with. If there is a traitor, we will deal with it in due time." Volrun made a slight nod at Trevor, to subtle for the other commanders to nice. The nod was a heads-up to Trevor - to let him know he was equally concerned about the current situation. While the thought of a traitor never passed his mind, he began to reconsider everything and it almost seemed to add up. But it was still to early. Hopefully Trevor would drop it, as it was not wise to point out the traitor just yet. At least, not until they had concrete evidence; trying to accuse someone risked the entire defense of the pass, and may cause the traitor to act sooner rather than later. It was all about timing.

"Now," Volrun continued, "I must say that I am deeply sorry for the loss of your sub-commander... Thomas, was it? His name will be remembered and he will be revered as a hero - this I swear." Returning to a more calm and relaxed state, Volrun looked over at Sayden, "do not beat yourself up Sayden, and don't let anyone else talk down to you. Your magical prowess is a much-needed asset in our plans, and yesterday's assault was a surprise. You've lost no respect from me, sir - and I must congratulate you on your courage for assuming the title of commander in yesterday's defense."

Now there was only one more thing to finish up: Koros. But how did that color Volrun? Trevor growing suspicious of a traitor in the Alliance, and Volrun just now having killed his own commander. Looking at each commander, Volrun began. "Koros Jarn was... killed yesterday... during the battle. However, he was killed within the encampment." Volrun allowed the news to sink in for a moment. "He was senile and unfit to lead the Varan, and I could not take the risk of him being the voice of Asgeir. I challenged him in single combat - which is tradition in Asgeir. I have broken no laws and no vows, so I cannot be punished. As a result I have assumed absolute control of the Varan, obtained the loyalty of the Thanes, and I have personally promoted Aesa Jojora as my chief adviser. If one cannot find me, then report any and all news to her. I hope you will understand my actions and not think me some villain."




Draycos777 -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/3/2015 17:10:34)

"Articis. If that were indeed such a case, then why did they try so valiantly to defend the artifact? To say it was no real heavy loss, seems questionable at best. Considering what measures they actually took in order to try to guarantee it's survival. In fact as I recall, the mages tossed themselves at my men and the wagon took off at a leading speed to indicate it would be of great value to them."

Before Articis could respond to Trevor, the sub-commander of the Varan, Volrun spoke up.

"Now hold on there, Trevor. Let's not throw out wild accusations that will surely lead our forces to shambles. We all lost men yesterday, and the day before, just as I am sure we will lose men today - until this conflict is done and over with. If there is a traitor, we will deal with it in due time." Next Volrun gave his condolences to Trevor for his lost and assured Sayden that yesterday's losses were not his fault.

It wasn't until Volrun spoke about the reason for the absent of his commander that Articis responded once more.

"Koros Jarn was... killed yesterday... during the battle. However, he was killed within the encampment. He was senile and unfit to lead the Varan, and I could not take the risk of him being the voice of Asgeir. I challenged him in single combat - which is tradition in Asgeir. I have broken no laws and no vows, so I cannot be punished. As a result I have assumed absolute control of the Varan, obtained the loyalty of the Thanes, and I have personally promoted Aesa Jojora as my chief adviser. If one cannot find me, then report any and all news to her. I hope you will understand my actions and not think me some villain."

"Well then," Articis waved his right hand in the air, as if it and his smile made the matter meaningless. "let me be the first to congratulate you on your new position."

Ytha gave a slight smirk of approval after remembering the first day's battle, while Rayna gave no reaction to the new at all. If you believe your leader is no longer fit for his role, you can get majority rule and challenge him. Such is the way in Je, so the cause of Koros Jarn's death, and Volrun rise was hardly shocking; in fact it was quite pleasant to the three.

Articis then turned back to Trevor. "Sir. Minx, remember, Domrius' army is made of many nations. The artifact could may have well been valuable to the mages, but not to Domrius himself. If that is indeed the case, would it not be founded that we could expect him to use other artifacts that a valuable to other nations much in the same way as our last battle? We should always be prepared for the worst."

Rayna shifted her eyes to her sister's. Ytha and Hyden had been filled in on the contents of the letter when Ytha had returned last night. It didn't really feel right to her, but the three Fons didn't really have a say since the letter was beyond them.

"However, speaking of worst case scenarios. We should have had one yesterday yet, thankfully, luck was on our side." Articis' right hand now rubbed his chin, mulling over something in his mind.

"It's odd. Domrius doesn't strike me as a man that would have any incompetent captains and leaders. So why didn't his pikeman captain order that your cavalry to be crushed by having their pikes and spears come together? ...Well I guess this stroke of luck was the counter balance for all the bad that happened on that day."




Dragonnightwolf -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/3/2015 20:29:52)

The sons of Thordenor: Thanisgard Chapter 5: Trevor

When Volrun interjected on Articis behalf. Trevor turned in surprise to see the man standing before them. "Vol-" He was cut off when the condolences were offered. "Th. Thank you." Trevor's keen eyes caught the ever so slight indication from Volrun concerning the thoughts and he acknowledged the movement with a very, very, slight movement of his own, a single finger of acknowledgement aimed in Vol's general direction while manually scratching at his face. Something that would be extremely difficult for other commanders to pick up.

After this, Trevor walked over to one of the maps again looking it over while Articis commented about luck. But something else had just dawned on Trevor all of a sudden. He looked back up at Volrun, having just realized the man had told them, that the commander was killed in a duel of combat.

An eyebrow slowly lifted upon his face while he gave a good measured stare at Volrun. "That reminds me." Trevor finally said looking seriously at the Varan. "Did you get word from that substitute they'd sent here yesterday, that I had wished to speak with you? Obviously now is not the time, but perhaps we can arrange to have some time after today's battle, or failing that, sometime in the near future?"

Trevor thought about something else too. "I do hope that Thanisgard sends word to me soon."





Kellehendros -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/4/2015 12:25:49)

"That's almost suicidal, my pupil. What if they don't listen to you?"

As the saviour spoke to Ishia, he couldn't hide the hint of amusement his voice carried with it. He knew that his pupil wouldn't change her mind, and he agreed that something had to be done. The Alliance was likely to lose, and how well the commanders worked together would only determine when. The girl picked up this amusement, and answered accordingly. The man was probably more of a paternal figure to her than her own father ever was.

"Even if I didn't plan on leaving the Alliance, I want to see more of the Alquen fortress. And if I don't come back, there's you. As much of an icon as I may be, you still are the one behind it all. I see the same burning determination I possess in my fellow soldiers' eyes, and you could lead them just as well as me."

The man laughed heartily, as he always did. Such jovial manners only confused Ishia even more on the man's true identity. He had saved her country from a ruinous dictatorship, and no citizen knew his name. Even the contraptions he built retained mysterious until he explained their purposes to the Zarans. The man was like a book written in a language that nobody in the world had seen until then.

"I'll just ask you to go to the strategizing tent in my place; I trust your excuse for my absence will be convincing enough."

The man replied, smiling. He silently approved of how confident Ishia had become. She had gone a long way since her childhood.

"Aye, my pupil. I'd tell you to be careful, but your plan is reckless in its very nature. Make sure to come back on your own legs."

Ishia stood from her chair, picked up her headgear, and bowed to her master one last time before she left. "Inform the men as to my whereabouts. If anyone disagrees with the fact that Zara will join the Imperium's side, change their mind or make sure they keep their mouth shut. Permanently, if you have to."

The girl's behaviour might've seemed cruel to an outside observer, but the truth was that Zara had been a fragmented country until recently. Many connected regions lost almost all contact with each other, and the various communities remained isolated until the nation was unified again. Ishia's troops were from every corner of the small nation, since her teacher had traveled all over the country, recruiting whoever accepted his training. While he knew every single infiltrator under Ishia's command personally, his apprentice only had the chance to meet them when they met to travel to Gripclaw Pass. Ishia warmed up to people that she had the time to get to know properly, and that hadn’t been the case with her subordinates.

The red-haired prodigy stopped by her tent to stash her weapons and headgear, as carrying any of those would've only made Domrius' sentries sure that she wasn't approaching the enemy camp peacefully. She wore nothing but her armor and a tattered cloak. Her head was left exposed, making her easily recognizable.

As she exited her tent, she whistled a recognizable call. But a few seconds later, one of Ishia's soldiers approached her. She talked at him in a stern voice, giving a simple order.

"Make sure that nobody enters this tent until I'm back. Our saviour will give you further orders if needed, but do not let anybody that isn't a Zaran inside my tent."

Ishia turned and briskly began walking towards the path she and Ytha had taken but a few hours earlier, fully conscious of the fact that this could be her last day.

***

Daylight had waned since the infiltrators had first attempted scouting Domrius' camp, making it even easier for Ishia to find her way back to the Imperium's fortress. Surrendering herself at the outpost would've been entirely pointless, and she snuck past it. Reaching the vantage point on the camp again, she took the path that would've led her down to a gate on the side of the camp. She walked until the sentries on the walls took notice of her, and then raised her hands to the side of her head to indicate she was unarmed.

"I come in peace, to speak with your leader."



Somewhat surprisingly, after a short conference between the men she had presented herself to and the captain of the guard, Ishia was taken not to the bailey in the midst of the timber fortress, but rather to one of the anonymous tents in the sea of crimson fabric that filled the interior space of the makeshift fortress. The tent was the same as all the rest, with nothing to set it apart from any other soldier’s dwelling in the camp. It was no larger, no more elaborate, it did not even have a guard outside.

Within, seated at a camp table on a folding stool, a man she could only conclude was Domrius, scratching away at a stack of parchments with a quill pen. A step behind him waited a man in armor, helmet tucked under one arm, staring balefully at Ishia as the guards explained what had happened. Through it all, Domrius continued to write, seeming to ignore the entire explanation being offered. At length the armored man nodded, and then looked to Domrius, awaiting some indication or word on his part. Nothing was forthcoming, and the man huffed a sigh, waving the guards out. “I’ll watch her, back to your posts.”

The guards took their leave, leaving Ishia alone with Domrius and the armored man. Silence reigned, broken only by the scratching of quill across paper. Eventually, Domrius returned the quill to the inkwell, sprinkling sand over the ink to dry it, and carefully setting the parchment aside. If Ishia had hopes that this might mean it was, at last, time for her audience, her hopes were likely dashed. Domrius simply lifted another parchment from the clean stack before him, placing it in the center of the table, taking up the quill, and beginning to write again.

This continued through one parchment, and then another, as the minutes wore on interminably, and the armored man continued to glare at Ishia. When Domrius finally spoke, without looking up from his work, it may have come almost as a surprise. “They’re notifications to the families of the fallen. Those from Alquen, at least,” he explained without being asked. “Rapheel is of the opinion I should delegate the task.” He is silent for a moment, and then continues, “but I have sent these men to their deaths, and I owe it to their memories to tell those they have left behind how it happened, even if I cannot tell them the why of it.”

More silence then, punctuated only by the scratching of the quill. “The Lion has sixteen Claws,” Domrius said suddenly, a statement that likely holds no meaning for Ishia. “I know them all, by their bearing, the manner in which they speak, the way that they move, no matter how they should try to disguise themselves. That is my gift. You are not one of them.” It would seem the man was watching, for all that he seemed to be intent on his work. At long last, he set the quill aside, looking up at Ishia, his mismatched blue and green eyes startling. “And if you are not a Claw sent to censure me, and you are not one of my men, and you are not of the auxiliaries, then you are from the Alliance.”

The armored man, Rapheel perhaps, drew his sword, though he made no move towards Ishia. Domrius gave no notice to the gesture, though the ring of steel was audible enough. “Tell me, what do you hope to accomplish here?



Under any other circumstance, Ishia would’ve furiously rebelled against being handled by enemy soldiers. Though she appreciated unarmed contact with enemy soldiers rather little, she was glad that she hadn’t been immediately killed off. She was rather surprised by the fact that she was being led to an anonymous tent, but perhaps it was a particular that helped her find out more about Domrius before she met him in person.

She walked silently as the guards escorted her, the feeling of being left weaponless among potential enemies never ceasing to cause her discomfort. This left her absent-minded when the guards finally turned to a particular tent, and she almost walked past where she needed to stop. Two men were already inside the tent, though it was obvious which one was the subordinate. Assuming that Domrius was the blond-haired man, she began observing him closely. Externally, he seemed rather unfit for combat, and the armored man behind him served as his protection.

Ishia was rather surprised by what followed: Domrius’ quill never stopped while he listened to the guard captain’s tale, though it was the other man who answered for him. The girl quickly discarded the idea of the general being deaf, else the guards wouldn’t have wasted their time talking to him.

“I’ll watch her, back to your posts.”

Confident. If I was carrying a hidden weapon, I would have ample time to kill Domrius before he would have the time to react. Am I allying myself with fools?

The infiltrator didn’t dare break the silence that took over the tent after the wall sentries left, and didn’t want to. There was something strangely relaxing in the atmosphere, though she wasn’t in the least dangerous of places. Domrius, if it really was him, already turned out to be quite an interesting figure.

The girl hoped that the man in the background would be held in check by his superior, as he seemed a peril to her life, even if she approached the camp peacefully. Ishia had never been known for her patience, but she didn’t mind waiting for as long as she did in her enemy’s company. Domrius’ mesmerizing pen really was greater than the man’s holstered sword.

The quiet was finally broken when Domrius himself spoke, explaining his work. The armed man’s baleful gaze was cast off by Ishia after she briefly returned the stare: the figure was merely doing his job as the guard to his superior.

Domrius charmed Ishia more and more as he continued revealing himself as a character to the girl. She felt drawn to him, even going as far as questioning if she had been on the wrong side of the fight since the very beginning. As the breeze gently moved her braid, she still restrained herself from speaking unless she was given permission by the writer. Domrius finally set his quill aside and addressed Ishia directly, looking up at her. His heterochromia momentarily startled Ishia, but it became to her just another interesting detail about the man shortly after.

“And if you are not a Claw sent to censure me, and you are not one of my men, and you are not of the auxiliaries, then you are from the Alliance.” The armed figure drew his sword as his commander finished talking, an action that left Ishia confused. She avoided reacting, as it could’ve caused the man to attack her directly. “Tell me, what do you hope to accomplish here?”

Ishia finally did what she had come to do: make her offer to Domrius. The fate of Zara would be decided that fateful night. “Your deduction is correct, Domrius. I’m Ishia Rinchen, and I represent the consortium of my country, Zara. Though we have begun this confrontation on opposite sides, I have determined that the Alliance won’t benefit my nation’s interests. I am the head of a team of fourteen, myself included, elite infiltrators.”

With the basic introduction out of the way, Ishia was free to speak in greater detail about the terms of the pact she was looking to establish with Domrius. Her thoughts briefly moved over to the fact that just a few hours earlier she thought she would be cut down before having a chance to speak. “I have come to offer you and the Alquen empire my country’s allegiance, both on this battlefield and outside of it, that my country be regarded as an ally and spared from military invasion. Should you accept, I will act on your orders alone: whether you would want me to join this camp or act as a spy among the forces of the Alliance. A more complete agreement could be established after my allies’ inevitable defeat.”

The girl paused, briefly considering what else had to be said. There really was something that attracted her to the man she was speaking to, though she couldn’t explain it even to herself. “Accept these terms, and I will be loyally sworn to your command. I promise that nothing inside your enemies’ camp shall remain a secret to you. Me and my troops will be your eyes, your ears, and an extension of your will.”

The infiltrator spoke her last words, and awaited an answer from the writer.



Domrius gave no outward sign of emotion as Ishia spoke, watching the young woman with resumed silence as she laid out her request. He shifted back slightly, hands resting palms down on the table before him as he considered Ishia. The silence stretched, nowhere near so long as it had previously, but it was perhaps more uncomfortable for Ishia due to the quiet scrutiny of Domrius’ mismatched eyes.

“You have the gift of patience.” He picked up the quill, twirling it once in what seemed a habitual gesture before drawing another parchment onto the table before himself. “I find it often comes with the gift of silence, and the wisdom of silence is discretion.” Dipping his quill into the inkwell, Domrius applied it to the paper, starting to write again. “It shall be as you wish, but know this: I shall show no mercy to you and yours upon the field. To do so would reveal our agreement, and then I think your erstwhile Allies should make short work of you and your fourteen infiltrators. I will take the Pass, one way or another. You can provide your assessment of the Alliance’s current disposition and capabilities to Rapheel.” The armored man grimaced, sheathing his sword and moving forward to escort Ishia from the tent, though he paused as Domrius spoke again. “Oh, and Lady Rinchen, the next time you want a uniform, I would suggest pilfering the laundress’ pile. Bodies are so messy to dispose of.”



Ishia found the wait before Domrius’ decision far more unsettling than his examining gaze. Her heart was beating strongly, something she hated. No matter how it went, though, Domrius would have gained an advantage over the Alliance: if he accepted, he would gain a new ally among the ranks of his enemy, and if he refused he still would’ve had a perfect chance to eliminate one of the opposing commanders.

As the man’s quill gracefully began moving again, he finally gave his answer. Ishia was anxious to know her and her country’s fate.

“You have the gift of patience. I find it often comes with the gift of silence. The wisdom of silence is discretion.”

Thanks for the compliment, but I’d rather hear what you’ve decided. I didn’t put my life in your hands just to have my patience praised.

Still, once Domrius continued, Ishia was overjoyed, though she tried her best not to show it. The man still proved to be cold in her regards, but she hoped to change that by proving herself useful to his cause. Though she wouldn’t immediately admit it to herself, she wanted to get closer to Domrius. Other than for personal interest, it would also be a way to make sure she wouldn’t be discarded after the Alliance was dealt with.

Rapheel finally sheathed his weapon and moved towards the girl, though his movement was interrupted by a remark Domrius made. Ishia answered in a tone of voice that betrayed how pleased she was that Domrius had agreed to forge a secret alliance with her, and nodded sarcastically. “I will keep that in mind, milord. You won’t regret accepting my offer.”

The infiltrator allowed herself to be led outside, staying by Rapheel’s side as he moved. She would have rather revealed the ins and outs of the Alliance’s camp directly to Domrius, but he was understandably busy. Two of the men he would have to write a letter for were killed by a direct order of hers. Nevertheless, she’d begin to prove her usefulness to Alquen’s cause immediately that night.

Ishia asked a question to her escort just as they both left Domrius’ tent. Her voice went back to a more neutral tone, as she had no feelings for the man. Both the infiltrator and the commander were now just intent on carrying out their duty. “Before I begin sharing information, may I ask if there are others among the Alliance who secretly serve Alquen? My efficiency would no doubt increase if I could coordinate my efforts with them. I also suggest that you take us some place shielded from the night’s cold breeze, as I have a great amount of information to share.”



Rapheel escorted Ishia out of the tent, pausing for a moment and scrutinizing the young woman. His eyes were devoid of emotion, but for a faint thread of buried suspicion. At length he grunted, leading Ishia down several rows of tents and conducting her into another, his own, presumably, judging by the empty armor stand and weapon rack. There was little to commend the space but for a cot, a small trunk, and a camp stool.

The soldier motioned Ishia to the stool, taking a seat on the trunk and looking at her. “I am sure that it would, were there one.” He said in answer to the question she had voiced earlier. “My Lord Domrius could take the pass if he wished, but desires to undermine the Alliance’s defense to prevent losses to his own force. He knows that once he wins the pass he will have to face whatever army the Alliance can field.” That it was a lie, perhaps Ishia could tell, but there was wisdom in keeping that conclusion to herself, seeing as she was in the middle of Alquen’s camp and unarmed.



Ishia wished that Rapheel had immediately answered her question, rather than simply scrutinizing her further and then leading her to another tent among the crimson sea. The suspicion the young woman saw in his eyes was expected and accepted. It was obvious she still had to earn trust from her new allies. She couldn’t help but think that any would-be assassins would have their work cut out for them to go and find a target among such a number of tents. The girl loyally followed the armored man as he moved to a different tent.

The infiltrator had no doubt that the living area she was led to belonged to the man she followed, as it fit his characters so well. There was nothing more than two racks, one for weapons and the other for armor, and the most basic furniture. Ishia sat on the stool she was motioned to, sitting with her arms crossed. The man found his own seat and answered her previous question, while Ishia thought of any useful secrets about the Alliance she could reveal to Alquen. Her memory was well practiced after the numberless reconnaissance missions she had undertaken. She was trained at remembering even the slightest of details if they could somehow prove useful.

While the man’s answer wasn’t what Ishia wanted to hear, she nodded, making it look as best as she could that she sincerely believed the man. Of course you wouldn’t immediately reveal things like that to me. For all you know, I could just feed you lies and then escape with in-depth information about this camp. I wonder just how hard earning your trust will be? I’ll just have to learn if there are any other traitors myself, until you deem me “worthy.” You are smarter than you look, Rapheel.

Confident that the wealth of information she could provide was enough for the day, Ishia spoke. It was the first step towards earning Domrius’ trust. “My troops officially joined the Alliance after the first day of fighting, somewhat limiting my knowledge of the events of that day. Regardless, I studied who I would be siding with before I reached the Pass myself.”

Ishia paused and took a deep breath, as she would be talking for quite a long while. She hoped that the man’s memory was capable enough to not forget anything she told him; the girl hated repeating herself. “The Alliance holds a council between commanders the morning before a fight, daily. I’ll begin from what I’ve learned since the first assembly I joined. First of all, the Alliance still is a very much a fragmented coalition: the commanders often contradict each other during the assemblies, leading to infighting. Namely, just half the commanders agreed to giving me freedom of action.”

Ishia had no problem recalling the first council. Mindless brutes comprised most of the Alliance’s forces, and she despised that kind of man. They were all brawn and no brains, completely unable to work with others efficiently. “A shining example are the Varan: they didn’t take part in the most recent battle because of an internal power struggle. I don’t yet know the outcome, but they merely sent a low-ranking man to represent them at the council. The Thanisgardian commander also revealed the exact number of troops he was granted by his kingdom: three hundred, specializing in almost every kind of cavalry. He even lamented that he was given half as many troops as he requested, and has sent a letter to his commanding authorities to ask for more reinforcements. I do not know how many casualties he has suffered, but he has, by far, the largest number of troops in the Alliance. All the other commanders range from fifty to about a hundred and fifty troops.”

My early observation of the Alliance’s camp really has turned out to be profitable. If I didn’t have this much precious information to share, earning Alquen’s trust would be much harder.

“A group of artisans representing Galvain, Elan and Tinsal also joined the Alliance at the same time as I did. They probably are the only group in the Pass that has assumed a supporting role, as they have offered to set up repair depots for weapons and armors. Also, the only other team capable of performing stealth missions, other than my own, belongs to Je.”

With ample background details regarding the Alliance revealed, Ishia felt that it was time to move over to strategic advice. “Regarding weaknesses as a whole, the Alliance has a problem defending against concentrated ranged attacks. The only group providing consistent protection from arrows and magic are Sayden’s mages, from the Oramus Collective. With a large part of their forces being made of infantry, and half of them not even being equipped with shields, the Alliance’s options when defending from ranged barrages are extremely limited, provided the mages are out of the picture. I can safely say that keeping the Alliance’s almost purely offensive melee forces at bay while bombarding them from afar would effectively slaughter them. The artisans might be building ranged artillery to counter such a strategy, but I haven’t had any reports regarding their activity.”

Ishia briefly paused, having said all she had planned to reveal. Next, she planned secure a way for herself to be able to reliably return to Alquen’s camp. Without being enabled to do so, her life would be at great risk should her former allies gain a measure of awareness.

“This is all I have to say, currently, though I have to ask that you let me move to Alquen’s camp should staying in the Alliance’s camp become too dangerous for me. I won’t work without a safety net. Also, when would you like me to report again? At the earliest, I could visit this camp again after tomorrow’s pre-battle council to unveil the Alliance’s strategy for the day.”

The girl shifted on her seat, hoping that Rapheel would grant her the safe escape she desired. She wasn’t expecting to bring the commanders’ attention down on herself any time soon, but she didn’t plan on dying at the Pass because some were wiser than they looked.



Rapheel sat through Ishia’s report unmoving, listening silently, nodding once or twice as she spoke. “If the Alliance discovers your actions, I think that you’ll be hard pressed to get out of the Pass. That being said, if you and your men can escape, we can find a place for you here. As for when you should return, it would, perhaps, be best to wait until the day after tomorrow. If you leave so soon again, these Je may take notice.”

He rose, turning to the trunk he had been sitting on and opening it, rummaging through it until he found a sack that clinked softly as he drew it from the chest. Opening the sack, Rapheel extracted a small bronze disc from it, not much larger than a gold piece. Etched into the surface of the disc was the Lion of Alquen, while the reverse bore what appeared to be an open book. “This token will allow you to bypass the sentries. I suggest you do not lose it.” Moving past Ishia, the soldier opened the flap of the tent, calling another nearby soldier and instructing him to escort Ishia out of the camp. “There is more at stake here than you know, Ishia Rinchen. I pray you do not play us false in this.”




Dragonnightwolf -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/4/2015 21:43:21)

The ivory tower of Gilgamest Reach: Thanisgard: chapter 5: Harry It was becoming quite an ordeal as of late. Sub-commander Thomas dead, Cory and the commander having taken some injury themselves though Cory from what Harry could tell now, was on the mend quite nicely.

The processional tune was to take a later timeframe and Harry mentally reminded himself to wake the commander for it. He went and brushed and combed down some of the war horses. As the sun began to retire itself for the night, Harry decided to take a brief, walk to clear his head and get rid of some of the stress he felt inside. The alliance was not working. The man realized this now. The alliance was not actually unified under one full command. Should they all perish, and it was highly likely they would, it would not help matters if they could not co-operate with one another.

Yet something was unusually strange about the whole ordeal. Why would the kingdom all of a sudden decide it wanted to take grip claw pass? What was so special about this place that it made countries go to war? While he was walking, Harry did not watch where he was going and thus he tripped over a rock, tumbling downwards from the hill he'd been on. His body pulled upward as he saw Ishia the commander of the infiltration squadron, leaving her tent. He was about to call out a friendly hello, when the man saw the path she took.

He recalled having seen Ytha coming up from that same pathway earlier today when they gave their report. Strange. He watched Ishia disappear down the pathway and he glanced slowly over to the general direction those paths could take. There were mountains, and there was..

Harry put a hand quickly to his mouth to maintain his silence. Domrius was the only other area where such a direction could lead.

Harry frowned and quietly lifted himself up and returned to the Thanisgardian area. He felt he had to warn his commander. But how? Upon waking Trevor for the procession, Harry decided now was not a good time for talk.

Unfortunately for him, the time never actually came for them to talk. For the commander soon after the whole ceremony, was gone. He'd headed for the strategy tent. The sub-commander had to make a decision for himself. He decided to hide a note in the banana he brought along with the breakfast sandwich for the commander.

The note read: "Keep eye on Ishia" Upon the next morning, Harry acted completely naturally, humming a tune he always hummed around that time of morning, and brought breakfast to the commander.

Trevor woke with a start "What are you trying to do? get yourself killed?" Harry smiled kindly and offered the fruit and the sandwich. Trevor had set the banana aside for the moment but ate the sandwich.

Harry left it at that. The man had done his duty and he knew how to mask his face from all those games of poker. Most people blew away their lucky hand, or their dangerous bluff. But Harry won 88 percent of the games he played in because of how skilled he kept his face maintained.

The Ivory Tower of Gilgamest Reach: Thanisgard: Chapter 5: Trevor Trevor absently reached for the banana he'd put aside and peeled it. Within he caught a glimpse of paper and pulled it out carefully. Obviously, Harry, had placed it there. Trevor looked at what it said, raising an eyebrow slightly before tucking the paper away. The commander of Thanisgard returned his eyes to Volrun. But he did not speak of what the note had said. There would be a time. But it was not now. Now Trevor had another person to keep an eye on. Ishia. The lady he himself had voiced opinion openly for. But why would Harry write such a thing? Trevor sensed in his gut, there was more to this than he realized. And he did not like it one bit.





Bastet -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/5/2015 8:52:27)

Ishia woke up when the commanders' assembly was well under-way, though she didn't accept simply waiting for her master to report to her after it was concluded. An incense burner was hanging from the ceiling of her tent, filling the environment with an enticing perfume. Zaran incense was of an especially high quality, but its production had almost come to a complete halt after the country plunged into chaos: what little was left was extremely expensive to purchase.

The girl chewed on the breakfast that was brought to her by one of her soldiers: the last units of easy-to-pack military rations that the infiltrators brought with them. Unless some other army groups were willing to share supplies with them, the Zarans would've soon had to go hunting for food to sustain themselves with. The girl slid a hand in one of the pockets of her suit; the one that contained the token that Rapheel had gifted her. The Lion of Alquen she now served was carved on one side, a clear indication of her betrayal if anyone happened to find it and trace it to her possession. Ishia had no idea what the open book on the other side represented.

After making sure that her armor was clean enough to wear and finishing her ration, Ishia extinguished the incense burner's flame and walked outside. Her soldiers were still having their first meal of the day, and Ishia let them be: they deserved to rest after carrying out such a successful mission. The commander left her camp and walked towards the main tent, where her master already was. Morale among the Alliance's troops was definitely not as high as it had been the previous day: there were many more casualties among the army she had betrayed. As she walked, she made sure that the token would've stayed in its pocket.

For most, Ishia's entrance was unexpected; her master had just reported that she was still resting. The girl calmly walked towards her master, nodding at those who had turned to watch her. The man smiled, standing next to her and speaking quietly.

"Nothing much has happened yet, though there are suspicions of a betrayer among the Alliance. They suspect you, my pupil, but they should be smart enough to see that those suspicions arose before you made your move. There is more than one spy among these commanders."

Ishia nodded again: she knew that Rapheel hadn't been honest to her. Rightfully so, as for all he knew she could have immediately reported back in the Alliance's camp and informed her allies about what she had observed inside Alquen's base.

"I expected as much. I'll try not to make myself too much of a target, I wouldn't want to immediately report a failure to.. him. Transferring our camp so early could make me look incompetent in his eyes. Still, merely standing in a corner will only accentuate their suspicion towards me. Let me go talk to the commanders briefly, go back to the camp if you will."

The man smiled and began moving back to his workshop, while Ishia drew closer to the center of the tent. She waited a bit to make sure that the attention was on her, and spoke evoking the friendliest tone of voice she could muster. Just like last time, she had to watch what she said as to not send her plans into ruin. She was aware that she was considered by many the foremost suspect of betrayal.

"Commanders, I'm sure you've already been informed, but I wanted to confirm that the infiltration was a success... and that it also confirmed our worst fears. Small-scale sabotaging operations would be little more than a mild nuisance to such a large army: we have to find and hit crucial targets. We should also work out how to defend ourselves even without relying on Sayden's support, after the results of yesterday's battle. That said, I am more than willing to organize more covert missions with the infiltration team from Je."

Ishia backed off again, though she remained closer to the centre to show that she didn't refuse contact with the other commanders. If she didn't want to mark herself as an obvious target, she would have to show no fear in talking with the other armies' representatives.




Dragonnightwolf -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/5/2015 23:12:40)

By the will of gods and men: Thanisgard Chapter 5: Trevor It had already been a surprise when Ishia's master had entered the tent. Trevor had given a good long stare without saying a word. What could he say? There were those kingdoms among the alliance that were worse off than Thanisgard. There were rumors he had heard as some of his men walked outside the strategy tent headed for their campsite, stating that some of the alliance was worse for wear then one could possibly imagine. But of what consequence was it to the commander of Thanisgard? Yes, Thanisgard had land. But it was a place where war had come knocking more times then he could count.

When Ishia herself entered the tent, however, Trevor arched an eyebrow. They had just been informed she would not be attending, and yet here she was. Then there was the note he'd received from Harry. Trevor kept his eyes on her the entire time that Lady Ishia spoke. His once-time founded faith in her success; was overshadowed by the message he'd received today.

There was indeed something amiss. But once more, would Thanisgard betray the alliance? Of course not. These men fought for a purpose.

But Trevor wasn't one to trifle with either. He didn't like these mind games that were going on in the alliance. Though the displeasure wasn't written on his face at all, the representative Volrun would likely note the way Trevor was looking at Ishia.

"Yes, we did hear of the success of the infiltration. We also lost quite a bit in this last battle too." Trevor let the last word hang in the air, keeping his eyes only on Ishia.

"Since they indeed have such a large force, why then, should we consider sending you out onto the enemy’s doorstep once more? Your success has brought us a serious reminder of what it is we face. Do you truly think that it is so wise to go back a second time?"

Trevor's brow raised slowly, his posture and demeanor presenting the impression that he was, at the very least, displeased with the war thus far. Clearly, he allowed the frustration of this last battle to show itself upon his face.

He had given her his faith and honor. If she truly had betrayed that, there would be hell to pay.

"Also, following that train of thought for a moment my lady," Trevor added with a tone of respect. "Which targets do you truly speak of? All that we were told is that the enemy has a larger force than what we initially thought. I'd assume there are indeed structures to sabotage, but so far as we know, neither your team, nor those of the Je, and," at this point the commander paused, and if the Je were in the room looked in their direction. "I say this with the utmost respect, have not yet even remotely drawn us at the very least a map indicating where such things might, or might not lay."

He looked back at Ishia after saying this. It was in fact a truth. No real information other than a confirmation had been provided to the alliance as a whole. He didn't want anyone to feel he was disrespecting them, but he did bring up a very good point. Infiltration was indeed important, but as of yet, neither of the groups had presented any kind of visual data, to provide the armies of the alliance with something extremely important; Details about where structures might be.

Trevor gave Ishia a smile. He had given her his honor and his faith. "Don't get me wrong, I'm glad the mission was a success and I congratulate you upon the success." Trevor stepped somewhat closer to her and gave Ishia another of his hard-earned cheerful smiles. "So show me that my honor and my faith in you have not been misplaced." He let the words sink in

Trevor had never been so serious, and yet at the same time, he had never been quite so sincere. To betray that, to dash those two principles to the rocks in sake of whatever calamity might be, would be extremely dangerous. Because Honor and Faith were the only things that this commander had left.

He'd lost much in past wars, though he never shared much information about Thanisgard. The kingdom, while thriving had its own faults: Children that would go missing inside the mines of Mervaria. Faint echoes of horses and men who'd died in battle. The castle itself was often perceived as a place where blood ran.

"I," the commander took a breath to speak, "have something I'd like to tell you all. Well, two things really. The first is this: every single man in my army I have known for at least three years, if not more." He looked around the room at everybody. "I personally write letters to their families to tell them that their son or husband or father died in the protection and honor of Thanisgard."

He looked back at Ishia. "Second: This alliance of ours is not working. We are not." He broke his gaze with her and turned to look at all the other commanders. "We are not actually united. I am as much to blame for this with my own," Trevor struggled for a moment to find the word he was looking for, "temper."

"If we really wish to make a stand, we must first stop this in-fighting among ourselves." He stared at them all. "I cannot ignore this any longer, gentlemen and ladies. We are no alliance as it currently stands. We are a bunch of different kingdoms and viewpoints all with a common cause, but with many voices and many decisions."

Trevor gave each man and woman in that room a good, long, measured look. "We are not a united front here. We're losing this war, not because our enemy has stronger numbers not because they have more fabulous equipment, we are losing this war because we, as peoples of the lands, as those who fight with honor and blood and sweat and tears and pain and all the other things that make a heart grow stronger, are not truly aligned with one another."

He allowed that all to sink in. Then he drew his sword, not in war, not in anger, but in honor. "Well, I say that this is the last straw. With the numbers we are facing, we must become one. We must put aside our differences and our dislikes."

"Do we want to fall as fools who struggle one day at a time?" He placed the tip of his sword upon the table. "Or do we want to show that we are not like the South? That those of the West can do what the South could not? Perhaps we will die. But I say we die as warriors and tacticians. Let us rise up as one true allied front to show those of Alquen that we are no longer going to stand idly by while our brothers, while our sisters and mothers, while our fathers and our close kin from the farther lands, die."

"I say that this time we show Domrius that despite the superior numbers, We shall become one true cause, one true group."

"WE ARE THE ALLIANCE!" Trevor yelled heartily. "And it is time, ladies and gentlemen, that we truly act like it. Who will stand with me? We have all faced hardships." His gaze again turned to Ishia. "Some hardships are difficult to overcome."

"But we," the commander looked at the group, his voice lost to him for but a moment, "but we must truly unite as one. Every person in this room has had a hard time. Our kingdoms have distrusted one another, our pathways have all been different."

Trevor closed his other fist and slammed it heavily on the table. "We cannot continue like this. I ask you all, from the bottom of my heart, not as a general or a commander, but as a person. Join with me, truly. We CAN make a difference. But we can only truly make a difference together."




TJByrum -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/6/2015 18:55:15)

20 Years Aago, Asgeir...

The boy heaved in and out, desperate to claim the air that surrounded him. Despite his wanting for it, it betrayed him - filling his lungs with a frigid and unwelcomed air. His chest ached with pain, and his legs could barely keep him pushing forward. He was bare-naked in the snow, with nothing to keep him warm but the hair atop his head. His arms strained against the weight of the burden bound behind him. It was a man, and he had seen maybe thirty or more years pass; he was bound with rope, tied tightly around his upper body and keeping his arms restrained. Around his face, covering his mouth, was a bloody cloth that had once been white as cotton. His face was obviously beaten to some degree, as if he had been engaged in a small scuffle, and one of his legs was twisted in an unnatural position, no doubt fractured. Light whimpering could be heard coming through the gag that covered his mouth. Such was the force pulling on the boy's shoulders that the rope had sliced into his skin and the scarlet blood dripped down onto the white snow beneath him. Both the boy and the man left a blood-stained trail behind as he struggled to pull the prisoner up the mountain path. A wild and furious wind whipped around both individuals, and the constant snowfall made it hard to see just a few feet ahead. Nevertheless, he pulled on with all his might.

The crunching of snow sounded out as the boy began to make out the silhouette of a much larger man. When he got closer, his blonde hair waved wildly in the wind and the boy instantly recognized the return of his father. Thrown over his shoulder was yet another man, also bound by rope and in similar condition as the first prisoner. "I found the other thief, Volrun," the father said, tossing his unconscious captive onto the ground beside the young Volrun. Volrun could hear the increased whimpers of the man who was still awake, crying as he saw his partner-in-crime was similarly-beaten and bound like himself. Then Volrun's father continued to speak. "Tie him up, quickly."

Volrun collapsed to his knees, unable to keep going forward. "But... fath-" Before Volrun could finish his sentence the large, cold, and powerful backhand of his father was slammed across his bruised face. Volrun fell over on the ground, limp as the two prisoner-thieves. Tears streamed from the boy's eyes; his bare-naked body shivering in the freezing snow as he fell upon it.

"Get up, boy!" His father yelled, barking orders at him. Volrun could barely stand, but he made an effort to pull himself up. "Now!" The father yelled out furiously above the snowstorm before kicking Volrun in the stomach. The pain erupted throughout his entire body, but his gut felt ruptured from the kick. "Get up or you'll share the same fate!"

Letting out a desperate heave, Volrun pulled himself with more effort. There... he had made it! Back on his feet!

Within seconds his father's balled fist slammed into his jaw, throwing him on the ground once again. "I said tie him up!" This was it. He just couldn't do it. Volrun was finished. "Hah! And you're suppose to the son of Tarro Valgard... you're a shame... I regret the day I ever produced your seed." Tarro pulled his waraxe from the looped holster on his belt. "Over a decade ago I held this pass with a handful of troops. Just me, my adviser Koros Jarn, and a handful of men who volunteered to come with us." Volrun's head hurt with exhaustion and blunt force, his father's words barely audible to him. "The soldiers who refused to come? We killed them. They were Varan, and they refused to come with us. It was dishonorable! Wrong! So we killed them. They wanted us to die in their place, so they could go back home to their families. They should have fought. Because the ones who did fight either died as heroes or did get to go back and see their families. The ones who didn't fight? We left their bodies in the dirt, and they never saw there families again."

Tarro waited a moment as Volrun heaved his little body back up, twirling his waraxe around as if it was part of his own body. "I don't even know who we fought that day," he said, laughing. Then he laughed some more, this time more louder and with pride in it. "But I don't guess they got to see their family that day either, huh?" Tarro then bent down to his knees, looking his son in the eye. "Thing is Volrun, they were the enemy. Not just the invaders, but the Varan we butchered too. They abandoned hope and honor and resorted to cowardice and selfishness. And they all died. Who was left standing? Me. And Koros. And some of the men who was with us. Why? Because we did what we had to do, when the time called for it, and we met it head on, with no fear and no dishonor. If we died, then we died with dignity and honor and would be remembered as heroes for all time. Don't you think I wanted to see my family? Don't you think that perhaps I wanted to find your mother and you in her womb? Don;t you think Koros wanted to see his family? What about my other men? Yes. We all wanted to see our families. But we did what we needed to do."

Tarro stood back up, handing his waraxe to the young Varan boy. Volrun slowly cocked his head sideways, acknowledging the motion. "Now," Tarro continued. "Be a man. Take this axe and do what needs to be done." Volrun reached up for the axe and took it in his little hands. The weight of the head made it top-heavy, so he used both heads to hold the shaft's top-end. Tarro slammed his hand on Volrun's neck, gripping it and clutching it with tremdnous grip. The pain was unreal. "That's not how you hold a waraxe, son," Tarro said ina fierce tone. Tears rolled down Volrun's face, but he mustered the strength to hold the axe more properly. "These men stole from our home. They said they was hungry. And they stole from our home. You let them go. And they stole from out home. They may have been Varan once, but they refused to work. They may have been Varan once, but they became thieves. They may have been Varan once, but they shed their Ki'gar and disowned all honor and tradition. These boys are not Varan, they're not even men! Now, Volrun. Do what needs to be done."

To this day Volrun was never sure what he felt inside of him. It was a sort of rage that he could not withstand. A sudden burst of energy and power. Mixed emotions of pride, guilt, fright, perseverance, anger, and selflessness coursed through his body. Suddenly it was not cold. Suddenly there was no pain. Suddenly... he became a Varan!

"Yes father," the boy said, turning slowly and looking at his captives. "I will do... what must be done..." Raising the waraxe high above his head, and then waiting a few moments, the boy brought it down with tremendous strength - beyond that of any normal nine year old child. His first victim was of the unconscious man. Volrun wanted the other thief, who was still awake, to see his friend pay the price for dishonor. Again, and again, and again! Volrun brought the axe up and slammed it down repeatedly, crushing the man's face, wedging it apart, and slicing it into nothing but a pile of bloody, gory, mess. Relishing in the satisfaction it brought him, the boy removed the gag on the other prisoner, who began to yell at the top of his lungs, crying for help and pleading for mercy.

"Please! Don't do this! I was hungry! I-I-I'm weak! I needed food! I-" Volrun hacked downwards at the thieve's face, opening it up between the eyes and on the nose. Gurgling noises could be heard, but it only further enhanced Volrun's actions. Again! Again! Again! Another pile of bloody fragments littered the ground!

And not two feet away, as stoic as ever, looking proudly down at the boy, stood the father: Tarro Valgard.




Draycos777 -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/6/2015 22:00:15)

Ytha, raised an eyebrow and grinned when Ishia entered the commander's tent and gave her report. Raising her hand she teased the girl once more.

"Ah, mind telling me one thing? Just where were you last night? It defeats the purpose of your master saying that we could come talk to you if we had any questions if you're not there to talk to. Also your troops should really work on their people skills, ehhhehe, it's bad."

It was then that Trevor spoke again.

"Yes, we did hear of the success of the infiltration. We also lost quite a bit in this last battle too. Since they indeed have such a large force, why then, should we consider sending you out onto the enemy’s doorstep once more? Your success has brought us a serious reminder of what it is we face. Do you truly think that it is so wise to go back a second time?"

At first this was just towards Ishia's report, but, his gaze soon turned toward Je's commanders.

"Also, following that train of thought for a moment my lady, which targets do you truly speak of? All that we were told is that the enemy has a larger force than what we initially thought. I'd assume there are indeed structures to sabotage, but so far as we know, neither your team, nor those of the Je, and, I say this with the utmost respect, have not yet even remotely drawn us at the very least a map indicating where such things might, or might not lay."

Ytha frown and whispered to herself. "I don't recall you having ever asked for that information either."

The commander of Thanisgard continued speaking, however, Articis ignored most of it. It wasn't until the end of Trevor's speech that he reacted.

"Second: This alliance of ours is not working. We are not. We are not actually united. I am as much to blame for this with my own, temper. If we really wish to make a stand, we must first stop this in-fighting among ourselves. I cannot ignore this any longer, gentlemen and ladies. We are no alliance as it currently stands. We are a bunch of different kingdoms and viewpoints all with a common cause, but with many voices and many decisions. We are not a united front here. We're losing this war, not because our enemy has stronger numbers not because they have more fabulous equipment, we are losing this war because we, as peoples of the lands, as those who fight with honor and blood and sweat and tears and pain and all the other things that make a heart grow stronger, are not truly aligned with one another."

Trevor drew his sword and stabbed the tip into the table.

"Well, I say that this is the last straw. With the numbers we are facing, we must become one. We must put aside our differences and our dislikes. Do we want to fall as fools who struggle one day at a time? Or do we want to show that we are not like the South? That those of the West can do what the South could not? Perhaps we will die. But I say we die as warriors and tacticians. Let us rise up as one true allied front to show those of Alquen that we are no longer going to stand idly by while our brothers, while our sisters and mothers, while our fathers and our close kin from the farther lands, die. I say that this time we show Domrius that despite the superior numbers, We shall become one true cause, one true group."

A loud yell sounded from the commanders mouth.

"WE ARE THE ALLIANCE! And it is time, ladies and gentlemen, that we truly act like it. Who will stand with me? We have all faced hardships. Some hardships are difficult to overcome. But we, but we must truly unite as one. Every person in this room has had a hard time. Our kingdoms have distrusted one another, our pathways have all been different."

A heavy fist slammed into the table next. "We cannot continue like this. I ask you all, from the bottom of my heart, not as a general or a commander, but as a person. Join with me, truly. We CAN make a difference. But we can only truly make a difference together."

Articis also raised his weapon, however, it was not placed on the ground or on the table. Faster then what a normal soldier would have been able to register, Articis left his sit and stood infront of Trevor, Kuroyasha pointed at his neck; Articis' intent-to-kill poured throughout the tent.

"Tineho...." The smile had faded completely from Articis' face and his yellow eyes glowed with anger. Ytha and Rayna also showed the same glow in their own eye and also drew their weapons, ready to strike out at Trevor's sub commander. "Don't even think about moving." Ytha warned him in a low voice. "By the time your even able to draw your weapon my darts will already be flying to end your life. Even if your able to dodge or block them, my sister will cut you down before you can counter."

Articis looked Trevor in the eye. "you, what exactly do you know about unity? A hundred and fifty years ago, my people opened up their borders for such said unity and peace. What we got in return was ridicule and distrust simply because of the we looked and lived. Even now that same ridicule exist, even if it is to a lesser extent in some of the other kingdoms. Do you want to know why we're know as the best guerrilla tactic users and ninjutsu users in the west?"

Articis questioned the man then spat out the answer. "Because we had to be. In order to protect ourself we became the best at what we could naturally do. Are you suggesting that we simply turn a blind eye to everything that has happened in the past one-hundred and fifty years? What naive thinking. Something like that won't ever happen. Not now, not in the next one-hundred years."

Articis took a deep breath then remove Kuroyasha away from the man's neck. "Don't misunderstand, Me and my man will work with the alliance, be don't see us as allies because we don't see you as allies either. Even if we do or don't succeed here, what will that change between our people? Nothing, you all will go back to harassing us and we'll go back to defending ourselves. I'm fighting here only to save my people, nothing more. That's the only reason I'll cooperate with you."

Articis turned, and sat back down in his sit. Articis' face was still plastered with the glow of anger though, he was clearly still mad at the commander from Thanisgard. The man had stepped on a cultural landmine; one that could not simply be smoothed over. "Je has nothing more to say on this topic or conversation. I'll speak once more when we start discussion one which strategy we'll be using today instead of asking meaningless questions. Oh by the way," Articis nonchalantly continued. "I've known most of my men for more then twice the amount of three years. And I'm sure other have as well. What does us knowing how long you've known your troops have do with anything?"

Ytha and Rayna both released a bit of tension, but kept hold of their weapons, as did Articis.

"Also why are you so creepily close to Ishia?" Ytha had been watching how the man was acting towards the first rival she has ever had, and her distrust was finally seeping through. "Ever since she's gotten here, I've seen you look her way and smile multiple times now. What, are you trying to court her or something? Why are you being overly nice for no reason?"

Articis paid Ytha no mind this time and mulled over the maps on the table. For the first time, he couldn't wait for the end of the day.




Kellehendros -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/7/2015 0:52:16)

Morning dawned over the Alquen encampment and found Domrius still at work, quill scratching away at a stack of parchments that was, in not completed, at least notably decreased from what it had been when Ishia had paid her visit. Rapheel had returned after Ishia was escorted from the camp, and the soldier and commander had had a brief conversation regarding the young woman’s revelations concerning the Alliance. For his part, Rapheel was disinclined to trust the turncoat. He had a soldier’s ingrained distrust of too much good fortune, though he deferred to Domrius, who was both in command and a better judge of character.

The nighttime vigil had passed in silence after that. The pair had served together long enough, and knew each other well enough, that neither felt the need to carry on a conversation when there were other tasks at hand. Whatever Rapheel may have thought of the work Domrius dedicated himself to, the soldier held his peace.

Such vigils were actually rather common. Domrius had never slept well, and Rapheel had taken it upon himself a long time ago to keep Domrius company when the insomnia plagued him. Still, as dawn’s light flowed over the crimson tent, Rapheel at last broken the long silence. “Pleyr was killed yesterday.”

Domrius’ quill paused, and after a moment he set it aside, staring down at the parchment before him. “Yes, I know. I had hoped that the Urn would be enough.”

The soldier shook his head. “Dom, he was one of us.”

Sighing, the Alquen commander rubbed his leg. “I know, Raph, but I didn’t have any choice in the matter. Things are delicate, and we can’t overplay our hand.”

“Overplay? Dom he was with us! You told him th-”

“I know what I told him!” Domrius thundered, eyes flashing as he looked up at his old friend. “I told him the same thing I told each and every one of you: that I would do whatever I could, but that we would not come through unharrowed!” Rapheel flinched at his friend’s tone, but Domrius continued implacably. “We agreed, all of us, to the risks. Things do not always go to plan. I told you this was a game of thrones. I told you the cost would be high, nigh unbearable, but I told you, and I tell you again, it is our only choice.”

“He was one of us, Domrius.” Rapheel said again, his expression pained.

“I know, Raph, I know.” Domrius sighed, running his fingers through his hair and rubbing his temples. “He was one of us, but some of the others have doubts, suspicions. Sacrifices need to be made.” He looked up at his friend, smiling tiredly. “I know that goes against your heart, Raph, and I know you don’t want to hear this, but I did what I could to protect Pleyr, and if one of us had to be sacrificed so that the rest of us might stand a hope of succeeding, it is for the best it was him.”

The soldier looked away, unable to hold Domrius’ gaze. “He had a family.”

“I do hope that I’m not interrupting a touching moment.” Whatever Domrius’ reply might have been to Rapheel’s final comment, it was preempted by the arrival of the speaker. Both Domrius and Rapheel looked towards the entrance of the tent. Holding back the flap was a tall, well-built man of middle age. He might have been considered handsome, but for the scar that started at his hairline, slicing through one ruined eye and down his cheek. His hair was trimmed short in the same manner as Rapheel, and his remaining blue eye moved back and forth between Domrius and Rapheel with a sneer of disdain. “I thought I might find the pair of you in here. Commiserating over your failures?”

“My Lord Cardus,” Domrius returned diplomatically, placing a faintly detectable hint of sarcasm on the epithet, “I cannot but notice that you are wearing your armor.”

“Rather so. I thought that, since you have, heretofore, demonstrated an astonishing lack of your supposed famed tactical prowess, that I would resolve the matter for you.”

“My Lord Cardus, I must protest,” interjected Rapheel, stepping forward. “The command has been given to milord Domrius.”

“Yes,” Cardus drawled, “a farmboy with dreams of glory.”

“You go too far, milord!” Rapheel cried out. “It was Domrius’ strategies and leadership that put an end to the Vendreti rebellion.”

Cardus snorted. “The Vendreti, a band of pig-hunting barbarians who mutilate dogs for sport. These western riffraff appear to be giving you rather more issue.”

Domrius had borne the altercation in silence, but finally spoke, his mismatched eyes resting on Cardus emotionlessly. “What is it that you propose, my Lord?”

“It is quite simple, really. I will take the fourth column up into the pass and put this rabble to rout.”

“No.”

Cardus’ eye widened, and he took an incredulous step towards Domrius, his tone dark. “Excuse me?”

“I said no, my Lord Cardus,” Domrius replied unflappably, though Rapheel made a point to move between the two men. “You may take your command into the pass if you wish, but I will not countenance you risking the lives of men not under your power. Whether you wish it or not, the command of this expedition was given to me. If you believe that you are better suited than I to the task of taking the Pass, I will stand aside and let you make the attempt. However, you will have only the men under your direct command.”

“That choice is no choice, farmboy, and you know it. The mages will slaughter us.”

“If you wish surety against the mages, I would be willing to send a detachment of our own magic users with you, Dreben’s men, perhaps.”

Cardus looked back and forth between Domrius and Rapheel, and then tilted his head haughtily. “I will be with my men, ‘Lord’ Domrius. I will bring you the heads of the Alliance commanders by the end of the day.”

With that, he turned and stormed off, leaving Domrius and Rapheel in a silence that stretched for nearly a minute before the Alquen commander spoke, his voice soft. “Perhaps you shall, one way or another. Raph, tell Jebrel that I would speak with him.”



Enric Artos, commander of Daret, held his peace. He was used to doing so in the meetings between the commanders of the Alliance. He had fewer men than any of the others here, and he was content to serve the defense in the Daret’s fashion, enduring that which came, and responding once the enemy had exhausted himself.

Still, he could not but feel some trepidation as matters within the strategy tent escalated, even to the point where Fon and his daughters drew their weapons upon Minx and his men. Enric rose, his voice whipcracking into the silence that followed Ytha’s poisonous questions. “Enough! My lords and ladies, this behavior is unseemly. We have been charged with a heavy task, and the burden will not grow lighter by backbiting and in-fighting.”

He swept a hand about the assembly, indicating all of the commanders. “We are all here for the same reason: to defend our homelands from the depredations of Alquen, who seek to steal our lands and enslave our people.” Enric might have continued, but for the interruption of a messenger, entering the tent and handing him a scroll before hurrying out.

The Daret commander opened the scroll, his eyes darting over the contents swiftly, the blood draining from his face. “We must set this matter aside,” he said after a moment, closing the scroll and looking around the tent solemnly. “The scouts report movement at the foot of the pass. Domrius sends Alquen regulars against us today. My lords and ladies, now is not the time for us to battle amongst ourselves.”




black knight 1234567 -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/7/2015 12:15:08)

"Quiet, Sir. Fellwalker. No one was asking for your sympathy to begin with. Maybe you failed to notice, but the archers of last day's battle were highly skilled." Articis greatly disliked willful rudeness, and he planed on letting this man know. "What was your plan again? Ah yes, a charge right into the hail of arrows. I'm sorry, but I'd rather take an incompetent plan that failed because of the off chance of a highly powerful artifact then the incompetent plan that fails on it's own with no help at all. We no doubt would have lost even more then those thirteen men of your's with a full frontal charge, so what right do you have to speak of one's incompetence? None."

Garin's gaze fell right upon Articis as he talked down the commander of Gilrade, he held his hand from touching his blade, using his tongue as a weapon in its stead:
''A frontal charge is what we ended with here, if your selective memory happens to fail you. A properly organized offense would have shattered Domrius' formation with less casualties, not more. Our forces are optimized for offense. Kulak's berserkers, my swordsmen and the natural force of the mages of the collective along with the Cavalry of Thanisgard would have all played a part in wiping the opposition. The next time you decide to call someone on incompetence my dear Articis, make sure you can back up your claims.'' he stared down the man long and hard before letting loose.

It was then that the Varan's new representative started speaking. He tried to soothe the mood with your typical talk of the toll and lose of war. Garin knew this very well. He did not expect to leave the pass without a scratch, but that doesn't mean they should throw the life of their soldiers to the wolves in misguided sacrificial tactics.
But then, he addressed the elephant in the room: what happened to Koros.
"Koros Jarn was... killed yesterday... during the battle. However, he was killed within the encampment. He was senile and unfit to lead the Varan, and I could not take the risk of him being the voice of Asgeir. I challenged him in single combat - which is tradition in Asgeir. I have broken no laws and no vows, so I cannot be punished. As a result I have assumed absolute control of the Varan, obtained the loyalty of the Thanes, and I have personally promoted Aesa Jojora as my chief adviser. If one cannot find me, then report any and all news to her. I hope you will understand my actions and not think me some villain."

''I would like to congratulate you on your new position, Volrun. I am in agreement that Koros outgrew leadership.''
However, this is was not the event of such an eventful day. Words flew across the tent, be it Articis or Trevor Minx, each word getting heavier with insinuation. It was a time bomb ready to explode. But it was then that the Alliance' infiltrator, Ishia, entered the tent.

She informed them of the massive numbers that could force the pass at any given moments, and how small scale sabotage was no longer on the table.

Trevor however, was not done.
''I have something I'd like to tell you all. Well, two things really. The first is this: every single man in my army I have known for at least three years, if not more. I personally write letters to their families to tell them that their son or husband or father died in the protection and honor of Thanisgard."
"

The Sword of the Voiceless could relate to the Thanisgardian commander. He knew most of his men on an intimate basis and also shared the sorrow of writing letters of condolences each and every time a man passed away unto the unknown.
He continued on, speaking about the extremely apparent split within the ranks of the alliance. Each and every man and woman acting on their own agenda, and not for the benefit of the whole, as it all came together with a shout from the commander, inviting them to unite, the tip of his blade on the war table.

It was not a moment sooner than blades were raised by the daughters of Je's commander, all pointed at commander Minx. Articis proceeded to talk down the man's speech about Je's troubled past and its diplomatic issues with other countries. Garin did not care much, it was when Articis challenged the bond Trevor shared with his men that got to Fellwalker.

The Alliance's diplomatic front, Enric, tried once again to hold the peace, reminding them of the danger at hand, but Garin had enough of Je and just blocked out the man. He gripped his fist as he rushed towards the daughters of Articis, element of surprise being his friend as he flat out punched one of the women straight in the face, sending her tumbling down, one of his hands founds its way towards his sheathe in anticipation. Garin no doubt knew that he just doomed diplomatic relations between Gilrade and Je, but it didn't matter, it was worth it.




TJByrum -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/7/2015 12:24:02)

There was a certain tension in the strategy tent that was obviously felt by everyone. This 'Alliance' was nothing more than a band of bickering commanders. After a surprisingly and righteous speech given by Trevor of Thanisgard, one would have thought the commanders to rally, but it did not. After his brief introduction, Volrun remained mostly quiet. This was a very similar ordeal to what he and Koros had just went through, and he silently hoped that this particular event would not go the same way - what with the potential death of some of the commanders. It was then that Enric of Daret spoke and tried to calmed things down:

“Enough! My lords and ladies, this behavior is unseemly. We have been charged with a heavy task, and the burden will not grow lighter by backbiting and in-fighting. We are all here for the same reason: to defend our homelands from the depredations of Alquen, who seek to steal our lands and enslave our people. We must set this matter aside, the scouts report movement at the foot of the pass. Domrius sends Alquen regulars against us today. My lords and ladies, now is not the time for us to battle amongst ourselves.”

Out of sheer surprise, Volrun witnessed Garin Fellwalker slam his fist into one of Articis' daughters. For a moment he smiled sarcastically, completely disappointed at how things were going.

Stepping into the scene and blurting out in an assertive tone, Volrun freely announced, "none of you are fit to hold this pass. If this is the way allies of Asgeir behave, then allies to Asgeir you are no longer. Come find in my tent when you finally decide to get your act together." Their was wrath and anger mixed in Volrun's tone. "I'm not going to stand here and be a part of this. If you can't steel yourselves and cooperate, then I am not risking my men in these careless incursions, and the Varan will not participate in this battle - again. If you've anything smart or ignorant to say to me, then we will leave this pass as soon as we can. When the Lion of Alquen comes marching over the horizons of your homelands, you will not have the support of the Varan of Asgeir."

With that, Volrun turned away from the commanders, stepped out of the tent, and walked back to the Varan encampment. If the commanders refused to cooperate, then the Varan would not act.




Draycos777 -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/7/2015 13:56:18)

“Enough! My lords and ladies, this behavior is unseemly. We have been charged with a heavy task, and the burden will not grow lighter by backbiting and in-fighting.”

Enric tried to keep the peace within the tent. “We are all here for the same reason: to defend our homelands from the depredations of Alquen, who seek to steal our lands and enslave our people.”

Articis was busying looking at the map, trying to decide which guerrilla tactic would be best to use against this new treat when he realized something. Today's march was totally off compared to what he has seen of Domrius. Most of his attacks so have have simply been to break their spirits with the Alquen regulars to the back, but today was a full frontal charge. Why was that? Was this really Domrius command, or was someone different leading the troops this time? There was something he needed to confirm first before he made and decision.

"Sir. Ar-" Articis was cut off as Garin Fellwalker hit is daughter, Rayna, in the cheek and she fell over. Ytha, calling out her name, rushed over to her sister's side to help her back up. Articis looked down, his eyes covered by his black hair. Volrun said something before running away, but Articis didn't hear him; didn't care to hear him.

"Ah, I shouldn't. I shouldn't do it, but I can stop myself now..." Articis quickly brought Kuroyasha down on the table, only inches away from the commander of Gilrade's face. If he had moved forward or parry the attack, it would surely crush the man or broken something, as the strength of the blow made the blade rip through the map and table as if it was nothing.

"........You know well that your actions could certainly lead to your death right?" Articis paused, the anger in his eyes boiling as he stared at Garin. "Very well then. I had received a letter last night from my King. It said that I could withdraw at my discretion. I had planned on staying around for a little longer in order to buy as much time...however, it seems as though this is unnecessary, as I am not needed or wanted here. I also refuse to work with those that blatantly disrespect cultural history." Articis paused once more in order to keep from swinging Kuroyasha in a mad rage. "As well as cowards that attack the daughters of those they have problems with, instead of facing them with dignity."

The table made a small hop as Articis wrenched Kuroyasha out of it, and moaned as it fell back to the ground. "From here on out, the Kingdom of Je shall henceforth no long be apart of this Alliance. The one-hundred and thirty men under my commander will pull out a return to our kingdom, where we should have stayed. It seems we were once again foolhardy to believe we could have place a small amount of trust in outsiders when we're all fighting for our lives."

Helping Rayna walk right, Articis slung his scythe over his shoulder and the three walked out of the commander's tent. It was as Articis said. Before the battle had even began that morning, the campsite of Je had been cleared and abandoned. Whether it was simply luck or an ill omen, the blow from Articis' scythe, completely tore a hole where the Alliance's camp should have been on the map.




TJByrum -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/7/2015 14:54:32)

Aesa finished folding the Ki'gar and placed it on the cart. She closed her eyes and a tear formed, breaching her eyelid and rolling down her cheek. Over a dozen Ki'gars, neatly folded, lie on the cart. They would be sent to Asgeir at the conflict's end and returned to their respective families and clans. The death of so many good men and women pained Aesa. Not just the Varan, but the others as well. War was such a terrible plague. She felt so compelled to prove herself to battle, to prove that she was a Varan, but at the end of the day she hated it. There was nothing glorious about killing men, women, daughters, sons, fathers, and mothers.

Her concentration was broken when the other Varan around her stopped their chatter. Turning to see the reason why, she spotted a frustrated Volrun storming to his tent. "Volrun?" Aesa attempted to place her hand on his shoulder, but he shrugged her off aggressively. Nothing was wrong, as this was not how this man acted. As Volrun swatted the curtains aside and entered the tent, Aesa sighed and quickly followed. "Volrun," she called out, entering the tent. "Volrun, what's wrong?"

"This mission, that's what's wrong!" Volrun was breathing hard. He was tense, angry, and frustrated, and it clearly showed. "The Alliance bickers and argues, complains and fights, and it's getting us nowhere! Aesa, I had hope our stand here would be valiant and worthy, but historians will chuckle as they write of our final days."

Aesa swallowed a lump of anxiety, walking slowly over to the distressed commander. "So, what do you propose?"

"I intended to leave the pass altogether... let these other commanders deal with the efense... but I can't do that. It's just not in me. My father would not have done it, and so I will not do it." Volrun was a little more calmed down now and so sat down in a chair. "But I don't know what to do."

Aesa walked ever closer to him and stood behind the chair, placing both hands on either of Volrun's shoulders. "What does your heart tell you to do?"

"It tells me to... defend the pass, like I was told. It tells me I have a duty..." Volrun stood up slowly and thought for a moment. "It tells me that I need to do what must be done. Aesa, prepare the men. We shall march on the battlefield and prepare for the inevitable conflict."




Daret. Kulak. Vorfather. Every soldier within the camp watched as a line of eighty-seven Varan marched through the camp, equipped with heavy armor, shields, and melee weapons. They didn't bother to look around, they didn't bother to speak. They were quiet, diligent, and disciplined - ready for anything. At the forefront marched Volrun Valgard, and at his side stood Aesa Jojora. The soldiers of Je were preparing to leave the camp and abandon the pass, heading back west. The Varan, on the otherhand, was prepared to leave the camp, but marched east - directly to the battlefield.

They would take up a defensive position. A column that was twenty-men long and four men wide. The other seven Varan, which included Volrun, Aesa, and his five Thanes, stood at the forefront. They had idea what was awaiting them that day. And they had no idea if the other Allies would come to their aid. But there they waited, rested, and prepared for the coming battle. Alone, but defiant.




Dragonnightwolf -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/7/2015 16:59:20)

Chaos among the forces: Chapter 5: Thanisgard: Trevor It had been a brief hope. A hope to rally the forces. A hope to have the conflict between them all resolve itself by a commander who'd seen enough death as of late. When Articis drew his blade and threatened Trevor with the weapon and likewise the daughters did the same to Harry, Minx was no longer amused and his patience and respect for people was running out quickly. Having given his own say, the commander of Je retreated and Ytha dared to ask Trevor why he was approaching Ishia. Yet, Ytha confirmed something important. That Ishia had not been at her quarters last night. That confirmed with the message Harry had given about the woman and now Trevor was starting to put pieces together. Harry's message briefly stated keep an eye on her, which meant that Harry had seen something important concerning her. The fact that Ytha had just stated Ishia was not in her quarters last night, begged the question just where the woman could possibly go. It was dark, the alliance was full of remorse and mourning and perhaps celebration. Surely if she were among her people, the Je daughter would have found her easily. So where than could she have gone? And what of the note from Harry?

Before Trevor could put a voice to anything, Garin Fellwalker struck Rayna in the face. The Thanisgardian commander could clearly see this situation of rally was vastly turning into a chaotic scene of doom. Articis informed the commanders they would be retreating back to their lands and wanted nothing more to do with this alliance. This was not what Minx had wanted but he didn't have a chance to say a single word before the man marched out with his daughters. The damage to the table and the map was ominous and Trevor's sword tip remained where it had been. If he'd truly wanted to. He could have counter-attacked but he'd chosen to wait and let the Je speak their mind. Indeed, it was hard to forget years worth of challenges. But he'd hoped that the Je, that everyone assembled would make some effort to unite together here. It was as Trevor had said. They were not united. Enric before Garin Fellwalker's strike, had made an attempt to maintain the peace among them and had come to Trevor's aid, trying to lessen the quarrels. Shortly after the Je left, Volrun informed the lot of them that he too was displeased and that his forces would not join the alliance if they did not get their acts together.

Trevor sighed softly as the Valgard commander left. He realized the man hadn't even answered his question and after all that transpired the Thanisgardian was beginning to question the ominous words he'd just spoken.

Trevor sheathed his sword a few moments after the tension grew less. Serious. He looked at the mage with concern for the mans well being. Then he looked back at Ishia. His face held a genuine pain. Not of the physical kind. His face held an emotional kind of pain, one that was hard to determine.

The commander's gaze found its way to Garin Fellwalker. "Thank you, Garin. I shall remember your aid this day." He looked at Enric. "And yours Enric." Trevor still was waiting word on his request for more men from the kingdom of Thanisgard. Cory, of all people showed up to inform him briefly that Volrun was marching to the battlefield and that the Je had abandoned camp.

Trevor let out another sigh. "This was not how I expected us to react. Yes. We all have history and distrust of one another. Some histories going back generations upon generations. But I had hoped, nay I had tried, to rally us all as a single force. We are many, but our hearts beat as one."

"For the record I am not looking to court Ishia." His face was still with emotional pain. "We can't keep. We can't keep acting like this. Like our alliance between each other doesn't matter. Maybe our kingdoms don't get along, maybe our peoples in the past haven't gotten along. True, we all have burdens and those of our lands and our people to bare. But we can't keep going on like this. This alliance is going to tear itself apart if we don't learn to adapt to one another. If we don't learn to put our pasts behind us. We are warriors. We are people. We breathe and we live and we struggle to survive." He slowly looked at the others with pain in his voice. "We cannot keep allowing the hundreds of years and thousands of years of history to dictate who we are presently and what our fight is all about."

"I cannot do this alone." the man said with a softness and a heart full of grief in his voice. "I cannot keep fighting this battle like this. The time of war among ourselves needs to come to an end. We." He looked up and a single tear leaked out of his eye and drew down upon his cheek before landing on the ground. "We can't keep battling each other like this. We need to look at one another as we are. As soldiers, as commanders, as people who are fighting the enemy with a purpose. A purpose of freedom and independence."

"To keep what we have. All I was trying to do was rally us to unite. To stop letting the bad blood between our kingdoms and our centuries to invade itself here. We have to work together, not because we have to, but because we desire to. I speak for the kingdom of Thanisgard." Trevor slowly looked at the rest assembled here. "And I say this. I don't give a frigging hogs hell what my kingdom believes to be right. I am in command of my army and I am speaking for the people and the land of Thanisgard at this battle." He placed his hand upon his heart slowly. "And I say this to all of you. I am tired of the bad blood between our peoples. The distrust, the in-fighting, the bloodshed. I want to fix it. Here. and now. I want this battle between ourselves as an alliance to stop. We have to stop or the alliance will fall quickly against the enemy. Perhaps this is what happened with the Southern Rebellion. Maybe that is why they fell. Because they could not find the strength and the will power to put aside their common differences for the good of all of them."

Trevor's body was shaking now, not from cold, but from the remembrance of wars in the past, of bloodshed needlessly spilled, of the fact that his fiancé had actually passed on from this world because of bad blood between kingdoms. "No more." The Thanisgardian said with the effort to talk, the grief of Thomas's death starting to take its toll on his heart. "No. more. I don't want us at war with each other. Can we not look at each other as brothers, can we not look at each other as friend? Are our ways and our histories so demanding that WE as a people cannot take the first step in saying Let's be friends for real."

"Yes there is history among us, bad blood, war, But it doesn't have to be all that there is among us. We can make a difference. We can learn to change. We can be friends, to be brothers in arms." Trevor looked at the rest of them.

He gently placed a hand upon Sayden's shoulder. "To you i say this. I am very sorry for how I acted to you. You did not deserve my temper and I thank you for your aid on the battlefield." "Come find me this evening at my tent, good mage. I'll wish to talk."

He gazed at Ishia seriously. "I would like a word with you at my tent when you are finished here." Trevor looked at the others, the fact that his body was trembling was still so visible. "I'll see you all upon the battlefield. I know. what to do." His eyes held those of a warrior.

Trevor stopped, and looked at one of the maps gazing at it seriously and intensely. Today the enemy was in for a few surprises of their own.

Trevor left the strategy tent and headed for his quarters to suit up for the days battle.

Chaos among the forces: Chapter 5: Thanisgard: Harry Harry was silent during the speech and when Articis drew his blade upon the man, Harry's hand reached instinctively for his own blade. Only to find the daughter's of Je with their own weapons drawn upon him. It was a dire situation and Harry was sure he could out master one, but not two of the daughters.

When they retreated the sub commander removed his hand from his hilt and at just that time Enric had stepped in to calm things down. Informing them that the enemy was marching on the pass. Shortly thereafter Garin Fellwalker struck one of the daughters in the face. An action that took guts. and earned the man a note of respect from Harry's thoughts. After that the Je declared no more and left the alliance, withdrawing their troops. The Vangardian also displeased announced his own decision and left.

Harry looked at one of the maps when Trevor spoke about the bad blood and the histories and everything else that was going on. The man could tell there was something else happening. The entire strategy tent had fallen into utter chaos. It was exactly as Minx had said. They were not an alliance until they got their act together and started respecting and becoming friends with one another.

Harry took a moment after Trevor had left and looked at the others. "Aren't you all tired of the bloodshed between our nations? Wouldn't you rather see what he sees? That the world can become a better place, for you and for me, if we just would take the time and effort to reach a hand across in friendship? Is it truly so wrong to want a friend?" the sub commander gave them all a bow of respect and honor before leaving.

Harry frowned once he got back to camp. As he geared for war today, he felt that something about all this was seriously amiss. The fact that the Je had just abandoned the alliance and the fact the Vanguard were ready to do the same. Gods above, why was everyone acting like this? Why was there so much awful blood between the united kingdoms that were here? At least the Je had not outright declared war on Thanisgard, but still, that could have gone much better.





Bastet -> RE: The Rise of Domrius (3/7/2015 20:39:18)

Everyone’s attention was soon diverted from Ishia’s nightly disappearance to an attempt by the Thanisgardian commander to rally the others under the Alliance’s banner. Ishia herself paid rather little attention to Trevor’s moralistic speech, seeing as she didn’t belong among the Allies anymore. That said, she made it look as best as she could that she was simply listening to what was being said: looking suspicious was not among her top priorities.

Articis was, in his own monologue, right about one thing. None of the commanders currently in the tent could’ve truly said that they knew their allies: a great amount of different cultures had temporarily united to defend the pass against Alquen… or pretended to. While she didn’t show it, she also appreciated Ytha intervening to question Trevor’s seeming attachment for her: Ishia didn’t have any sympathies for the man, and Ytha was doing her a favor she hadn’t asked for.

Ishia had originally replaced her master to see for herself what useful information she could’ve revealed to Domrius the day after, but her erstwhile allies were doing nothing but bickering between each other. She was about to turn and leave, but it was then that the Sword of the Voiceless moved: after congratulating Volrun for his new position of command in the Varan army, he ignored Enric’s pleads and simply punched Ytha’s sister. Ishia was left entirely speechless by the act, even as those from Je retaliated against Garin’s aggressive act. She knew that most other commanders within the Alliance preferred brawn over brains, but not even in the most remote corner of her mind she would imagine that one would go as far as committing such a… dumb act of aggression.

Volrun announcing his leave until the situation stabilized was little more than background noise to Ishia, though she also noted that: it was one more thing she could report to Domrius the day after. Truth was that she was almost tempted to immediately leave the Alliance’s camp and just join Alquen in their attempt to finish off the Allied forces, but she realized rather quickly that she was more useful to the one she served by acting as a spy among his enemy’s ranks.

Though the Zaran girl expected the harsh counter-attack Articis employed, she hadn’t quite imagined that he would simply pack up his camp and immediately leave the fight. Ishia was quite surprised by the fact that Je’s leave left her slightly saddened: as troublesome as Ytha was, she wouldn’t have been against getting to know her better. The prodigy retook control of her emotions shortly after, focusing again on the events inside of the council: she had no time to feel regret over those she had betrayed anyway. If anything, the explosives she had managed to take a hold of were naught but an advantage to her.

Ishia wasn’t surprised when Trevor attempted rallying the Alliance once again, defending himself from the accusations of Je’s commanders. Though, when the Thanisgardian leader thanked Garin for his “aid”, Ishia was left entirely disgusted. The man had just punched more than a tenth of the Alliance’s forces out of the fight, and he was thanking him?

What? You’re thanking him for that? Have you had too much alcohol last night or are you merely insane?

Though Ishia had actually felt the slightest of regrets for betraying the Alliance after seeing the pained looks in the eyes of the men around her, her resolve was steeled again after she witnessed dumb acts such as Garin’s… and Trevor thanking him for it. In the girl’s eyes, the remaining commanders were turning more into fools with each second that passed. That was why, when Trevor met her look with a sincerely pained expression, she merely replied with a cold stare: she had no compassion for those who acted so irrationally. If only she could have overpowered them single-handedly, she would have simply killed every other man in the tent and saved Domrius the effort of conquering them through conventional means.

When Trevor personally asked her, once again, to visit his camp, Ishia brushed the request off without even replying. She had no time for such buffoons, and it was obvious that he wanted to know just why she had left her camp the previous night. Without a ready excuse, she would only have made herself look like the traitor she was. She made a mental note to think of one, and left the Alliance’s tent in utter silence.




Ishia was greeted by the pair of soldiers that were still resting by an extinguished campfire in the middle of her camp, though it was obvious that they knew to expect orders from her shortly. They immediately stood up, and approached their commander.

“I want you two to communicate my orders for the day to the others: five of you will spend the day hunting game in the woods near this camp, though pay attention not to draw too close to Domrius’ forces. We will need supplies if we are to stay in this Pass any longer. The remaining infiltrators will be split between observing the oncoming battle and our former allies. If I am to make a report tomorrow, I want to be able to provide the one with serve with as much information as possible. Prioritize the largest armies within the Alliance, and the Warsmiths. I want to know every useful detail that would provide Alquen with further tactical advantages.”

Ishia paused briefly, observing her two subordinates. Their determination was evident, even though they were wearing their headgear. Perhaps she could trust those from regions she hadn’t had a chance to visit until Zara was liberated, though it was obvious that her master wouldn’t simply recruit those unfit to fulfill an elite infiltrator’s role.

“As a general guideline, avoid making yourselves much too suspicious. Remove your head covers if you have to, but make sure to avoid making me look like even more of a traitor in the other commanders’ eyes. Defending myself will become incredibly difficult if my erstwhile allies are provided with clues as to my betrayal. I trust you to be able to organize yourselves, but make sure not to fail me. Disperse.”

Ishia returned to her tent, pondering if she shold actually pay the Thanisgardian camp a visit. She could very easily have been cornered if Trevor suspected her betrayal enough to put her under arrest, and she couldn’t afford to have that happen. On the other side, she would likely increase his level of suspicion if she simply ignored his request.




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