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Rank: Knight
Groups: Administrator
Joined: 7/4/2008
Posts: 317
Location: Sao Paulo, Brazil
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The old man leaned against his gnarled cane and slowly placed himself upon one of the square's benches, heaving a long sigh once that movement was over, as if it had cost him most of his energy to perform it. He adjusted his worn and tattered robe with lethargic strokes of his shaking hands, seemingly lost in his own thoughts.
A couple of curious children that were playing around the fountain approached him, beaming with vivacity. Their mere presence seemed to endow the elder with life, or at least provide him with a reason to smile.
"Why are you sitting all alone, mister?" said a girl dressed in a yellow dress and whose wide brown eyes inspected the old man full of curiosity.
The old man slowly cast a look at both his sides before turning back to the girl to answer her question.
"All my friends and beloved ones are gone, young one. All because I was too curious at a certain point in my life."
"How is it that being curious can make people go away?" asked one of the older boys, with a look that would indicate doubt toward the old man's wisdom or even sanity.
"Ahh..." the old man said with a muffled chuckle. "I can see you don't believe me, lad. But may the gods strike me down if what I'll tell you isn't but the truth."
The children gathered around him and sat down wherever they could to hear the old man's tale.
"Many years ago, when I was still young and brave, much like you young fellows, I traveled the lands in search of treasure and fame with a group of associates."
"So you were an adventurer?", questioned one of the girls.
"Yes, I suppose you could say so. I was an adventurer and my last adventure took me to the heart of evil itself."
"Ooh..." said the children in unison.
With a grin that would definitely attest a macabre fulfillment for scaring those kids, the old man continued.
"We were sailing with a crew of Tyrean..." he looked around for a moment and, noticing a guard standing nearby, he said "merchants, yes, I suppose you could call them merchants."
"That doesn't sound very exciting" said one of the kids.
"Well, boy, how exciting would it be if I told you that we were boarded by Insularii privateers?"
"Wow..." chanted the children, quite surprised by the revelation.
"Wow, indeed. They attacked us in the middle of the night. Most of us were asleep, with the sea rocking the ship and a cold breeze blowing softly as if it were a lullaby. I was one of the men standing guard and only noticed their boat approaching us too late. I called out for my companions and drew my sword!" the old man gesticulated intensively while telling the tale, keeping the children completely hypnotized by his every word.
"What happened then?!" they demanded to know.
"We fought for hours, until every last of them was lying dead or lost in the sea. All except one, from whom we discovered the location of their island, Insula Magna."
"You don't expect us to believe you actually got there, right?" doubted one of the boys.
"Not only was I there, son, but I also defeated dozens of their soldiers, fighting my way with my comrades through the cave that leads to their fortress in the center of a man-made valley. We returned them the favour so eagerly done by their privateers and attacked them in the ninth night after the sea battle. They were caught off-guard, not expecting a group so small to reach them undetected and anchor just before their main entrance."
The old man paused for a moment to clear his throat. The children awaited in silence, as if savouring their expectations for the next part of the tale.
"The island was not at all as guarded as one would have expected and we, in our blindness, rejoiced without questioning why and darted inward to the core of their city. From tall towers, a few mages appeared and started casting their sorcery upon us. Their magic was strong and merciless. Some of my friends perished there, consumed by a spell-induced plague that took over their bodies. There weren't many of those mages, however, and we managed to escape the reach of those that didn't fall by our arrows."
Suddenly, the old man's excitement about the combat seemed to have reached an end and he displayed a darkened expression on his visage.
"What happened next? Please, tell us!" begged one of the girls.
"What happened, lass, is that we plundered everything we could, laughing at their demise, but only until a loud voice echoed in the moonless air. A deep voice whose commanding tone was enough to shatter all the thoughtless hopes we had so vainly nourished so far. It came from a tall figure, clad in reddened armour. Upon his head sat a mighty horned helm that gave us a hint of what was to come."
Another pause was made by the man before he stated bluntly the reason of his party's destruction: "Minotaurs".
"The gates from a nearby cave opened and creatures the size of a small building came out thirsty for our blood. Their dark hooves clacked loudly on the stone pavement as they marched toward us carrying weapons bigger than ourselves."
The children seemed completely lost at the thought of such incredibly large creatures, a feeling that was only made more poignant by the expansive gestures the old man used to describe them.
"We had no doubt in our hearts as to what to do. Grabbing whatever was at hand, we ran for our lives, trying to reach the main gate before the minotaurs caught us."
The old man chuckled dryly with that thought before continuing.
"What foolishness! Thinking that a group of adventurers could attack the fortress of such warmongering bastards!... Yet, there we were, before the main gate, where we could see our ship in the distance. However, it was full of soldiers... Soldiers that had just returned from a raiding expedition. A whole fleet was docked in front of us, bearing the loot from prosperous Tyrean ships, exotic Azhuran farms and rich Khemetar mines."
"And how did you escape?" asked one of the boys quite skeptically.
"I never said I did, lad..." answered the old man with a saddened smile. "They captured us, tortured us and killed all my companions. I was chosen to live and spread a word of warning as to what happens to those that get on the way of the Insularii."
"Yeah, well, we're not dumb, old man. We wouldn't go about poking bee hives like you did."
A crooked smile slowly crossed the old man's features before he replied to the boy. "Sometimes, you don't know you are messing with a bee hive before it bursts before your eyes, lad. The Insularii aren't different to us. They are men and women from all the nations on Khaeros who have joined maddened mages in their quest for power. Moreover, they have eyes and ears in every city of this world, carefully spying on our every move."
The old man stood up, leaning on his cane for support and, just before he left, he said: "And that's why, dear children, this old man prefers to be all alone."
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Rank: Knight
Groups: Administrator
Joined: 7/4/2008
Posts: 317
Location: Sao Paulo, Brazil
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A crowd of people gathered around the two tall, mysterious figures that had recently arrived in Vhaluran by the break of dawn. Most workers had just gotten out of bed, but, instead of heading to work as usual, they joined a few people that were talking to the foreigners in front of the Cathedral.
"Did you understand a thing they said?", asked one of the peasants in the crowd.
"No idea... They were talking in some crazy language!" a miner replied. "The man seemed nice enough. Huge fellow he was, taller even than Sir Andrei, but not as bulky, ye know?"
"I heard something about them Insularii fellers", added the local baker. "Not sure what they were saying exactly, but it seems that they got attacked by them these days, or something."
"Yeah, seems like the feller wanted to talk to the King about it", said the miner.
"Wow... That tall man was just.. sooooo handsome!" uttered a teenager to her friend, regarding Draenen's almost inhuman good looks.
"I'll be dreaming about those toned arms tonight!", her friend said. "But that woman... Ugh... Worst personality I've ever seen!".
"But what legs!", said Marcus, a somewhat renowned smith among his community, to which most men present promptly agreed.
"I wish our women would wear clothes like that!", one of the men replied. "But, again, they probably wouldn't look half as good as that broad. All full of attitude and angry. That's how I like 'em! Makes it more rewarding once you get 'em all docile!".
Much to the local women's aggravation, all men burst into laughter and walked away exchanging other sexist remarks about Fionna's womanly traits.
Regardless of all the fuss they created, the two Alyrians failed to find anyone who could help them seek an audience with the king. But with the help of Selene, a very helpful woman from the local community, they were able to get some information as to how they could find the Captain of the guard.
With that in mind, they would return soon and hopefully warn King Falcourt about the impending danger that was about to befall his nation.
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Rank: Peasant
Groups: Player
Joined: 7/10/2008
Posts: 13
Location: England
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Rob awoke painfully, his head splitting. Pulling his head off of the table and out of the pool of his own drool he fought the rising tide of nausea, struggling to keep whatever was in his belly in there. Slowly he began to piece together his memories of the night before, his head sinking further and further into his hands as events unfolded.
His memory was foggy, blurred, unclear; drowned beneath a lake of alcohol.
He remembered staggering out of the Dragon’s Kneecap, panicked, his vision hazy. It’d been a bad day with the goblin ambush and all, and drowning his sorrows while he gazed at the entertainers had gone far too well. Now he was late. Late to see the damned king for the godssake! He glanced at the sky, wincing at the glare, trying desperately to work out what time it was. He tried to run faster but stumbled and wisely slowed down; better to arrive at the keep a little late then covered in mud.
He remembered standing outside the barracks struggling to stay upright, addressing the captain as “lordship” sinking down into a bench and he’d managed to focus his blurred vision on the man. More people arrived.
None of this mattered.
He remembered standing in front of the King himself. They’d been lead in by the Captain and flanked by a Knight. Now he was struggling to manage a bow without falling over or emptying his stomach all over the carpet. The King had talked at length describing how the Insularii had attacked the Alyrians and had been driven back, how they now threatened Vhaluran.
He remembered with a groan, shouting too loudly as the King had called for people to defend the Kingdom. His blood was up by then and he’d lost the inclination to try and avoid embarrassing himself. He’d cheered and shouted his support for Vhaluran. His fist was in the air as the King spoke inspirational words of Vhaluran faith and valour. The haze in his mind cleared as it was focused with the thought of a fight ahead; they thought they could invade his home, they thought wrong! He’d send them to the Gods, one at a time, bleeding, limping, crying out for mercy.
He remembered cheering louder and louder.
His memories snapped into focus; every blurred face clear, the previously blindingly bright lights now illuminating ever detail of the room.
“For the Insularii!” The man had cried.
He remembered running forward, the crowd around him, he grabbed the traitor’s throat, raw rage flooding his mind, blanking out the people around him, the king and the guards clamouring to get between him and his assailant. None of that mattered now. He gripped tighter, shaking the man, his own vision blurring again under the weight of his rage, the alcohol still in him magnifying his every feeling. Then things snapped into focus again. The traitor was on the brink of loosing consciousness and being firmly pulled away from him by a Knight and someone he recognised from the crowd.
He remembered helping bring the prisoner to his cell, pushing the bastard along to keep him moving he remembered spitting into the cell, the faces of the men around him now perfectly clear; the Captain of the guard and the First Knight, watching as he spat at the traitor. Then all he could think of was his rage and disgust that this man who would call himself a Vhalurian would turn be a traitor to his nation. Now his head sunk back to the table as he remembered the men around him, powerful and noble watching as he spat at a semi-conscious man. The man had refused to move back into the cell and attacked the Captain but that’d been dealt with easily enough, he’d kicked the man’s legs out from under him as the Captain had knocked him back with the butt of his mace. That, at least was a moment to be proud of, helping the Captain of the Vhalurian guards fight a traitor.
He remembered being outside the cells, in the barracks, shouting loudly for the right to beat some information out of the prisoner when they heard the screams. Running back in they found the man running around in his cell, screaming with his every breath; his clothes were already burned to ash and he was ablaze. Rob remembered pushing the burning man to the floor as he’d dived at the Captain. There had been shouts for water but it was too late.
The burning man swam before his vision and once again he contended with the urge to vomit. But the night wasn’t over yet, one final memory dislodged itself from the foggy recesses of the night.
He remembered sitting in a comfortable chair, at a table. Telling the Captain how he’d do anything to see the bastards pay, his rage boiling up again as he pounded on the table. He’d asked the best way to defend the Kingdom, pounded on the table and given the Captain his name.
After that the fog closed back in, he must have made it back to the Dragon’s Kneecap and began drinking, he wasn’t sure.
Then it hit him.
“Oh merciful Gods!” Rob waved for the bartender to come over, waiting while the man stopped cleaning glasses and ambled over, tray in hand. “Get me a stiff drink mate; I think I’ve become a guard! And someone tried to kill the king.”
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Rank: Squire
Groups: Player
Joined: 7/16/2008
Posts: 40
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- You look like a guard, are you a guard boy? – Asked the man dressed in red and black, his companion behind him, changed his aim from the big drunk fighter to Christopher. “This is getting dangerous” thought the guard before answering
- Yes I am a guard, now say who you are and what is your business in our lands – The young guard replied in a stern way not showing any fear to the imminent threat ahead of him.
- Indeed we have some business with your country, now come with us guard boy, and your companion will be able to leave unharmed. – The man replied, his tone threatening, his voice deep, a voice that would scare any weaker man. Christopher could feel the hair on his neck lifting, he swallowed hard before answering.
- You have not introduced yourself yet, and I am sure my friends are not afraid of being harmed – The young man replied, only to regret his words later, knowing that perhaps it was wiser not to involve the commoners on official issues. But what’s done cannot be undone. The reaction of the man in front of him was odd to the least, for he burst out in laughter, an inhuman laughter the young man thought.
- Ho Ho, if it is so important to you lad, I am Barnabus, and the man behind me is Tercius, and fear us, for we are the Insulari – The man gave a crooked grin, looking around thinking he would flavor the look of fear in the eyes of the men gathered there, but for his surprise, his grin was met with more grins. For a second he was confused with the reaction… Christopher looked around to every of his companions, and before he could reply, the bulky drunk man spoke
- Insularii? Hmm, I think I heard tha name before.
- Insularii, the ones that got beaten by the Alyrian? Hah… if that’s so, than we got nothing to fear – Christopher took over the conversation again taking only a look with the corner of his eyes to Malcom due to his interruption. The Insularii reacted just as expected, their expression were a mist of anger and disgust.
- They didn’t beat us stupid boy, we took what we wanted from them, and that was why we retreated. Now come with us and do your job guard, isn’t your job protecting the citizenry? – The crooked grin returned to Barnabus’ face but the reply was again not what he expected
- Being you the Insularii, your threats don’t scare us, and why should I go with you?
- But I like threats, they sure be fun! – Interrupted Malcom once more, and again Chris frowned upon the interruption.
- Don’t test my patience boy, come with us and answer our question, and your friends will be unharmed… This is your last warning
- You don’t seem to see things correctly here, we outnumber you, so I advise you to return to wherever you came, but if it is just simple answers you seek perhaps I can help you… - The guard replied quickly before any other interruption, his eyes focused on the reaction of the Insularii, but the man was not scared, more of he smiled as if Christopher’s words were but a jest, his reply was sharp.
- You think we would fear a bunch of untrained boys like you? Now cutting to the chase, how many soldiers you have? – To that question the young guard looked around to every man, they all seemed willing to fight if it came to it… he counted the man he had in hand… Nathan, John and Malcom seemed to be those fist fighters that could defeat a man with bare hands, Adriam held a Gladius in hand, he knew he could trust those men to fight and not retreat, but could they really win, he himself was new to fighting. The Insularii men seemed to understand what was going inside the guard’s head, for the readied themselves, still waiting for the answer.
- We have enough soldiers to drive you back to whatever hole you came from with your tails between your legs. – The reply was not what the Insularii expected, and Malcom’s reaction was even less expected, even his allies didn’t expect him to jolt forward aiming his knuckles to Barnabus’ face, it had started, Barnabus easily dodged the punch, but Christopher only saw that of the fight, because, cursing the lack of strategy of his fellows, he noticed no one attacked the archer, everyone was concentrated on the Barnabus, who fought back using just his knuckles. Christopher knew the archer should be taken down first, but the archer seemed to expect that only the guard would be trained to have that vision, and from the start shot his bolts against Christopher, he dodged once, twice, and got close enough to hit the archer, for a second he thought he would make it, but it was also at that second, that the arrow struck him on the shoulder, a scream of pain escaped his lips as his hand lost grip on the sword that fell to the floor. His balance lost, he fell to the ground his head hitting a rock, and for a second he only felt cold and the blackness around him.
It was only after a few moments that Christopher regained his conscience, with Adrian screaming in his ears
- I drove them away, I drove them away, I hit the man with my sword and he ran away screaming like a girl. – Obviously no one took his words serious. Christopher prayed to the gods in thanks for their lives, but exactly as his prayer ended he felt a strong hand holding his arm
- You are coming with us now guard boy aren’t you? – Barnabus asked without even expecting an answer, he just drove the boy around by the arm. They walked for quite some time until they got to the woods, Tercius took a look around to make sure no one would surprise them, and then Barnabus motioned to rock.
- Sit down boy, now you are going to answer a few questions, starting with the numbers of your army. – The boy sat down on the rock and grinned before answering, he knew he was into a world of pain, but for sure he would not be a traitor.
- I already answered that question, enough to make you cower and run back home in fear. – Barnabus looked to his companion, he made a movement with his hand of slapping his forehead, than he slowly shook his head, while removing his glove and cracking his knuckles.
- Will be here for a long time it seems – he said before hitting the young man with a punch on the stomach, Chris felt the sting on his stomach, and the iron taste of blood on his mouth, as he felt some of that blood dripping from his mouth.
- Another question then… How many entrances there are to the castle?
- None, we find our way in by riding magical eagles. – Replied the guard with a mad glow in his eyes and a smile on his face, a smile that was quickly removed as a punch was sent across his jaw, Christopher’s head drew an arch in the air, as blood and a piece of teeth flew from his mouth. Barnabus seemed to be enjoying punishing the guard, as if he expected that to happen, but still he seemed at least annoyed that he was not getting the answers, behind Christopher, Tercius set on the floor wrapping his arms around his knees, just watching, as if bored.
- And where do you keep the kingdom’s treasury?
- Ho ho, we keep it in a room, but be careful because it is guarded by a veeeery big dragon. – Christopher laughed for but a second before he felt his ears being pulled, and a big shadow growing in front of his eyes, but it was not a shadow, it was the Insularii’s knee, he heard a cracking sound, and a moan of pain escaped his mouth, his nose was probably bronken, but for now, he didn’t care.
- This is your last chance boy, tell me something relevant or you will suffer
- Oh you want something relevant – The guard looked up to his assaulter in a defiant manner before answering – Very well, run as fast as you can, run home and cower, because we the Vhalurian are the chosen people of Elysia, and Drachus is already asking for a taste of your blood… - Those were his last words before unconsciousness came swiftly to him.
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Rank: Squire
Groups: Player
Joined: 7/16/2008
Posts: 40
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- Like I said everything is calm lately. – Christopher looked over to Selene and smiled, reassuring. His smile turned rapidly to a frown as he noticed a smoke coming from far in the woods northeast to the market district. – Can you see that Selene?
- Ye-yes Si… erm Sarge – Chris pointed to it, before mounting on Argent. – What should we do?
- You go look for Frank, I’ll scout ahead, if you can’t find him try to gather some numbers – The newly appointed sergeant rode off into the woods.
In the past Christopher would not be able to ride in a forest like that, but he got incredibly skilled in the last few days, so he rode with the maximum speed his tyrean horse allowed. From time to time, he would run outside the forest to find the place the smoke was coming from. Quickly he pinpointed the exact location and moved in that direction, as he got closed he started listening to rough voices talking in a language he could not understand. Christopher tried to walk away slowly, but he was never good at sneaking on people, specially clad in a full plate of iron. Barnabus quickly noticed him. The Insularii commander’s eyes widened for a brief second when he noticed they were not alone. Chris sighed he had been spotted no use trying to hide, so he moved into the open looking direct to Barnabus.
- Fancy we meet again. But I guess you don’t remember me, do you Barnabus?
- If I would remember everyone I’d given a beat or humped his mother… Oh I see you do know my name kid. – Barnabus replied looking at the man in front of him. – Hold down lads – He said to his men who were all ready for a fight
- I will give you the same warning I gave you last time, flee back to your island now before its too late Barnabus. – At those words Barnabus grabbed his horse’s reigns and smirked
- That is what I plan on doing lad. Kill him men – The Insularii ordered as he jumped on his horse, mounting it skillfully.
Christopher frowned and tried to ride after Barnabus, but he had to parry the bardiche one of the insularii wielded, with a small movement of his ankles he made his horse jump backwards, quickly enough to avoid the next attack, he raised his shield to parry a crossbow shot on his direction, before making his horse hit the closest enemy with its hoofs. He rode forward reaching the crossbowmen who tried to retreat, quickly he jumped from the horse falling on top of the enemy. The enemy wielding the bardiche saw the guard on the floor and smirked brandishing his weapon down as quickly as he could. But that was exactly what Christopher wanted, he rolled on the floor barely dodging the bardiche on its way down, sadly for the insularii that was under him. Blood splattered everywhere staining the sergeants new uniform, but he didn’t had enough time to think about it, the third insularii had recovered from the hit he took and was approaching. For a moment despair took over Christopher, he would never be able to stand quickly in the armor he was wearing, he swung his blade against the insularii whose polearm was still stuck on the floor hitting his ankle, the man screamed and fell getting in the way of his friend, it was the time Christopher needed to stand. He took a few steps backwards to regain his footing. The wounded Insularii started to limp away, but as Chris moved to stop him, the other one got in his way. The enemy brandished an odd weapon, Christopher had seen those double bladed staffs before so he knew how quick his opponent could be, he had to be as quick, so he changed his stance for a few seconds they exchanged quick blows, Christopher was having the upper hand and the Insularii seeing his friend fled decided to do the same. Christopher smirked, it seemed the poor bastard in his desperation forgot the Vhaluran had a horse, with a whistle Argent was near his owner again. It was not hard for him to chase and finish the coward. He frowned at the cowardice of his opponents and offered a prayer to Drachus thanking for his victory.
Slowly he approached the camp of the insularii searching for any evidence he could use to discover their plans. After some time of looking he found a scroll inside a small chest. With that in hands he rode back to town to warn the captain or the first knight, what was written in that scroll was of great importance to the future of the war.
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Rank: Squire
Groups: Player
Joined: 7/16/2008
Posts: 40
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Christopher woke up and rushed outdoors to get his horse ready, he didn’t even bother changing back to his uniform, quickly he mounted Argent and started riding slowly to the Barracks. At first he didn’t notice the reduced numbers of guards, and when he didn’t see Frank around he decided that the other sergeant must’ve rallied the men for a training drill. He was so absent minded that day he didn’t even notice the worried and frightened looks on the guards that he met on his way, but obviously he could not miss the bodies laid on a pool of their own blood by the door of the barracks. Without even wasting a second to look at the bodies he rushed in, the sight inside showed what must have been a manslaughter, he almost tripped at a pool of blood as he rushed in, but for his surprise, no body could be seen inside, only a note left on the floor, and what could have been a human eye. Christopher freaked out for a moment, not knowing what to do, run away trying to find the perpetrator, or read the note, after a brief moment he reached down to read the note. A frown crossed his features as he read the note, the first time the information didn’t seem to reach his brains, but after re-reading it, a deep sorrow took place in his heart, he quickly rushed outside and jumped on his horse’s back, he started riding on the direction of the woods, perhaps they hadn’t gone so far. Again he fought with himself to gain control of his actions, and again he managed to calm down. He turned the horse around and rode in the direction of the closest bridge.
- How could you not see anything? – He shouted nervously to the guard that was standing by the bridge guarding it.
- I am sorry sir, when we arrived it had ended already. – Replied the young guard looking at the man in front of him, for a second she thought about the ineptitude of the man that was her superior, but when she saw him calming down she thought that perhaps she’d be nervous in his place.
- Why didn’t you call me? Or Frank? Where is Frank? – Christopher shot successive questions not giving time for the guard to reply – Find all that can ride and tell them to come here, we need to go after the captain, and tell someone to bring the men back to their regular posts. – Christopher frowned thinking that perhaps it was indeed all his fault, but for now he had to keep his head cool and coordinate the actions.
The guard nodded and replied something Christopher completely ignored before going follow her orders. Christopher started reading the note again, when the approach of Brayda caught his attention, he quickly found a way to stop her from crossing the bridge, he could not allow anyone to find out what happened before he started the searches, as the tailor turned her back to leave, Sir Gabriel showed up by the bridge a serious stern look on his face as he stared at Christopher. For the young sergeant nothing else needed to be spoken, at least that was how Chris interpreted the look on Gabriel’s eyes.
- Is it true? – Asked Gabriel rather calmly this surprised Chris catching him off guard.
- Yes sir it is, I am afraid it was my fault sir. – Christopher looked down in shame, but the knight seemed to completely ignore that reaction of the guard.
He motioned for the sergeant to follow and they walked into the barracks, once inside Gabriel focused in the pool of blood and seemed to travel into his own world forgetting about anyone else. His expression was melancholic which just made Chris feel even worse. After five minutes have passed the knight seemed to return from his divagation and noticed the piece of paper Christopher was handing him. Quickly he read it and handed back to the guard, who just mumbled apologies once more.
- Where did they go Sergeant? – He asked calmly ignoring the apologies.
- South or Southeast sir, that’s what the guards that saw the incident said.
- Very well, you stay here and try to control the people, not let fear spread, I will talk with Andrei and we’ll go after them.
Shortly after Gabriel walked away the mob gathered by the door of the barracks, most of them screaming nonsense like “We are doomed.” “The insularii will kill us all.” And other things of that sort. Christopher turned to them with a frown, his feelings were an amalgam of fear, despair, and disgust. He fought his own mind to keep control.
- Calm down everyone, all has been settled there isn’t any danger anymore – He said trying to keep his voice calm, and thanking he was wearing a plate, otherwise the would notice him shaking.
- Lies! I heard the captain was abducted. If not even the guards are safe, imagine us. – Some member of the mob shouted, disgust took over Chris instantly drowning all the other feelings.
- We drove them back and the captain rode after them, they didn’t abduct the captain, now calm down. – Christopher never lied before, and this lie could be read in face.
- Liar, you are lying to us. What happened to this country, not even the Guards are honest anymore – Shouted another man. Christopher frowned as more people started gathering, a few that he knew like Brayda and Malcom. – We are doomed, look what they have done – The shouts kept coming more and more.
- Yes, we should go to Tyris, they will destroy us. – Shouted another one.
- What happened to you people of Vhaluran, we are not going to be defeated by someone that got beaten by the Alyrian. – Brayda spoke before Christopher even could reply.
- But they have mages, and Minotaurs – yet another man shouted which got Christopher’s feelings to change from disgust to anger, he clenched his fist before speaking.
- Are you all cowards, we have defeated them twice already. They may have attacked us, but we are in war and this is the toll of war. Do you think we could win without any losses? We are the chosen people of the gods.
- Chosen people for what? To take a beaten to them mages?
- Look around we live in the best lands, we have the best men. Each Vhaluran is worth at least 2 of them, there is no way we could be defeated. – Brayda nodded in agreement with Chris’ words.
- Yes and what about the Minotaurs? – The cowardice and lack of confidence of the people on their own kin was just getting the Sergeant angrier.
- Ye go back to yer momma if yer scared. Don’t say we’re going to get beaten, say we’re going to kick their arses. – Malcom said in a loud voice that got everyone to stop talking.
The argument kept going for a long time, Christopher not used to handling crowds kept getting in trouble. So much trouble that suddenly a watermelon was thrown on him splashing all around, the guard’s fist clenched he gritted his teeth. “Control yourself Christopher… One… Two… Three… yes much better.” He whipped his face and kicked the rests of the fruit away. It was when he was going to start talking again that he noticed the arrival of Sir Andrei. Chris sighed in relieve as he saw Andrei controlling the crowd and just as quickly as they appeared they all vanished, leaving Christopher to clean up the mess.
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Rank: Squire
Groups: Player
Joined: 7/16/2008
Posts: 40
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The air that filled the room was heavy, the smell was not of the best too. The sergeant sat heavily on the bed, burying his face on his hands. The man laid on the bed moaned, and the sound of the clanging metal hitting the wood floor could be heard outside the room where the knights that just left should be heading to the castle. The young man looked to his wounded friend. The captain was fiddling with the cork of the wine bottle not being able to open it. Seconds that seemed like hours passed before Chris words managed exit his mouth.
- I’m sorry Captain it is my entire fault sir.
- Could you ever be so good Chris? – Julian ignored the sergeant’s words and pushed the bottle to his hands.
- Yes sir – The boy grabbed the bottle from the captains hand and uncorked the bottle returning it to the captain.
- If I hadn’t moved the men out sir, this would not have happed. I failed your trust sir. – The sergeant gave a faint smile, more of sad smile then anything else.
- It is not your fault, you did nothing wrong, you led the men well, but both of us got fooled by them. But I am glad it was me. If I hadn’t been around, it could have been the King, or some innocent child or woman.
- You should rest now sir. – The guard was about to stand when Julian reached out to grab Chris’ hand squeezing it as hard as he could.
- Please, before you leave, tell me what was on that letter that seemed to affect Sir Gabriel so much? – Christopher took a deep breath at the question, he would have to lie one more time, so little time out of the Cathedral and he was already lying for the second time.
- Well sir, he found out that the Insularii have feelings sir. – The knock on the door came to his rescue, he quickly stood, not paying attention to the words of his captain. And as soon as the clerics started taking care of Julian, Chris left the room.
If it had happened a few hours earlier Chris would be more than happy to see the return of his captain. But not after the message he read, the same message that seemed to take a heavy toll on Sir Gabriel. It all started hours earlier, when Chris was enjoying himself watching Lisa work. The small building where the city had its forge was crowded, Beside Lisa, Marcus Loreman seemed to be working on making a chainmail. By the sounds of hammers clanging against metal, Christopher noticed a strange man walked in. He was dressed in odd clothes and carried a blade of Khemet. The guard slowly walked in the direction of the man. The man was member of the Brotherhood of Lucent and brought news on the location of an Insularii camp. Chris smiled thinking that perhaps the captain would be in that camp and he could rescue him. Shortly after the man left the sergeant started gathering men for an attack.
He decided he could not take many men, he had to make a surprise attack, otherwise the Insularii could run away by the sight of a large army. He got the best 3 warriors he could think of, Victor, Adrian and Damien, and two other men that were available. With that small group of Elite warriors they took of in the direction of the camp. It was odd that none of the city scouts managed to find that camp, they didn’t try to hide themselves, just lifted a camp in the open, and talking loudly, but there was a reason for them to not fear being found, in the distance Christopher could already spot at least 4 minotaurs. He looked at his companions and they all nodded in agreement, it would be a hell of a fight
Just as expected the fight took quite sometime. Christopher decision to make ride by attacks surprising the enemy at first became an utter failure when the foot soldiers decided they wanted to take a share at the attack. Not having speed to run away form the Insluarii soldiers, they would be easy prey, making Christopher stay behind to hold as many enemies he could. But the Vhalurian had dealt a strong blow against the Insularii, killing 3 minotaurs and both horse riders of the enemy. As they retreated, Chris managed to get some time to talk to his men, while there was still confusion on the enemy camp. His next plan was again deal an attack with the three riders attracting the enemy, while the foot soldiers could go around and attack the archers and the camp. The Insularii seeing his enemies where just three riders got over confident and rushed to attack, just like Chris planned, the riders retreated slowly enough to let the enemy approach, and than they launched their attack, Damien rode through trampling everyone on the way, and opening space for the other riders to ride by following him, and killing those that tried to stay on the way. Quickly the situation was under control, and the Vhalurian had taken the camp.
While the others rested and healed their wounds, Christopher and Damien searched the camp finding two notes. And it was one of those notes that brought the words that now echoed on Chris’ mind, while he walked his way back home.
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Rank: Squire
Groups: Player
Joined: 7/16/2008
Posts: 40
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Christopher rode back hastily into the city, cursing the gods for his unluckiness. Things just kept happening in a succession of miss happenings. Christopher didn’t enjoy his new place in the service of the country, he actually never wanted to be Captain, nor even felt he had the experience and ability to be in that place.
Not even a week ago the former captain Julian turned into a minoutar and killed everything on his way to the woodlands. The rank of Captain fell on his lap, more to hinder his dream of becoming a knight then anything else.
He seemed to arrive at the city right at the time the guards started fighting the first wave of Insularii guards. The newly appointed captain rode and struck down two enemies, ignoring the thankful looks of his men, he could see in the distance the mass of soldiers the Insularii brought to attack the city, he could also see right in the middle of them both Barnabus and Tercius. A number of things rushed in a whirlwind of thoughts, confusing his mind, but some rage hidden, something that even Chris was unaware he possessed took over him.
Barnabus was shouting orders getting his men ready for combat when one of his guards pointed to his back, he tugged the reign to make the horse turn around, for his luck, his eyes widened when he saw a man riding in the top speed his horse, the sword fell down cutting through flesh and stopping at the bone of Barnabus’ shoulder. The Insularii commander cried in agony moving his horse back trying to escape his attacker.
All the Insularii were struck in place mesmerized by the boldness of the enemy, rushing to the middle of an invading army alone. Perhaps that was the wish of Drachus, that the surprise and unlikeness of that attack would hold the enemy in place. But quickly they all awoke from their stillness by a bolt that flew low hitting the helmet of the enemy without doing any harm. Barnabus started his retreat as Chris rode after him, seeming to ignore the halberds that tried to hit him and take him down.
Instinctively Chris kicked an attacker down, and bashed another with the shield as he lifted his sword up and down hitting Barnabus in the back a couple of times before his tired horse was not able to keep with the speed of the enemy.
His attention turned back to the men attacking the city, only at that time he seemed to understand the madness he just did, he rode through the enemy army ending at their back. But it seemed Xhenos and Drachus were at his side, the army was assembled and he could see his men standing on both sides. For the first time in weeks he muttered an honest prayer in thanks to the gods. Selene and Lars stood by his side and he smiled as he noticed they had surrounded the enemy.
Screams of pain filled the air in the same amount as blood mixed with the dirt on the floor making it muddy as the Insularii army seemed to be slaughtered by the forces of Vhaluran. Christopher could not understand why the Insularii would send their own men to be murdered like that, but right now he was a god of death doing his job.
Tercius frowned darkly cursing in his mind as he shot two Vhalurian guards, even his archers were being butchered by the enemy forces, and the sign of Barnabus success had not reached his ears, could his friend be defeated by that insane rider? He shrugged the thoughts away, turning to seek his next target. But the sounds of hoofs hitting the ground just behind him made he turn around only to see a sword hitting him in the head.
Christopher spotted Tercius commanding with signs a small group of crossbowmen, he fought the urge of letting the rage take over, but it seemed the gods had graced him with the chance to revenge Julian. He rode around the archers and teased his horse with the ankles so it assumed full trotting speed. With quick and compact swings he took down the archers on his way approaching the unaware Tercius. Something seemed to warn the enemy as the guard Captain approached as the Insularii turned around only to see the sword moving down and hitting the side of his head removing an eye on the way.
Tercius vision was blurry as he tried to gain his footing, he took a few steps back and shot a bolt, the rider seemed to be expecting that to happen as he turned the horse to the side, blocking the bolt with his shield. A mist of horror and rage took over Tercius as he saw his own death approaching him, he was a man of courage and he would die fighting, he took a few steps backwards trying to reload his crossbow as the rider just watched him. How could that man be so calm, even allowing him to reload his crossbow?
Christopher tugged his reign and the horse moved forward, once more his sword made the up and down movement hitting the enemy on the shoulder piercing thru flesh and bone reaching the spine. But for his surprise the man was smiling as he was struck down. The sound that filled the air was the reason.
Christopher rode in the direction of the explosion reaching the bank, he saw the guards posted there for protection dead. He could not see Mia or Rachel and it worried him, but just as he moved to reach the door, the feminine voice of the banker reached his ear
- Oh Captain I am glad you are here sir… We… we… have been robbed sir. They took one third of the treasury money sir.
Christopher removed his gauntlet and rubbed his eyes at the bad news, when he focused again Selene, Lars, Victor and Gunther were by his side. He frowned and gave them orders, Selene was to talk with the Treasurer about what was taken and how much the repairs would cost, while the others would scout the area. With the orders given he rode to the barracks to fill his report, once more cursing everything he could for the path he has been forced to walk down.
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Rank: Soldier
Groups: Player
Joined: 7/20/2008
Posts: 128
Location: USA
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The tundra was especially frigid this night as the four crept towards the low burning fires. A full camp!
Hells...the one I killed earlier must have just been a scout, Ulrik mumbled.
The others nodded in agreement. It was those three horned scouts that had alerted the Tyrians to the camp to begin with. The bull-helmed men no doubt fought each other on who was the first to sodomize the cow they took the horns from.
A snarl seemed to roll to all of their lips in unison, their equal distaste for invaders shown across their faces. Thorunn gave a quick hand motion and the four split off into pairs. Iyvar nocked an arrow in his bow as he crept around, while Ulrik began breathing heavily forcing the blood through his cold veins.
It was a whole sale slaughter. The camp never saw them coming. Chaos ripped through the tent as the two on horseback charged through crushing the skulls of a few of the pirates. The other bull-heads tried to strap what pieces of armor they could to their bodies and readied their polearms. Only a few of the watch were ready for the reckoning that came...but not ready enough.
A roar ripped through the camp as body after body fell, Ulrik felt the life zing back into his muscles, his heart pumping in unison with every slash. Then, heavy hooves. A true bull-headed beast wielding two blades stamped out from the chains by the shore. This thing charged towards Ulrik, who caught off-guard flew a good few lengths before landing on the hard and icy earth. It stamped towards him, raising its hoof to finish the job.
Well mate, it was a good runhe thought.
Thorunn's hammer crushed the beasts skull just as the end was in sight. With a nod, Ulrik stood and surveyed the damage. Death. Not one survivor in the mix.
The supplies were stripped and the tents burned to the ground, the only worthwhile evidence being a note.
"Your duties are to scout the Tyrean landscape and city outskirts to give us basic information about their territory. Now that we got what we wanted from the Vhalurians, the tundra people are next!
Petronius Furius"
Ulrik finished the reading as the others barked out insults and curses to the attempted invaders.
War was on the horizon.
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Rank: Adventurer
Groups: Lore Writer
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Joined: 7/21/2008
Posts: 306
Location: the Tulgey Wood
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The severed head of a bull rolls to the ground. Snow is dyed red as the blood patch spreads, seeping from under the eyes of the bloated corpse. With a muffled thud, the body of a male approximately in his thirties, of Khemetar origin, covers the bull-head. Every moment, another body joins the pile. A bottle smashes. Broken glass covers the gruesome pile, dripping liquor mixing with dried blood in a smell that can't be described otherwise than "downright gruesome".
But the bottle-smashing man doesn't seem to mind. He might be used to the smell of fresh death, or he's got a cold, either way, he's oblivious to the stench. The camera zooms out. The pile of corpses sits in the middle of a tent-camp, full of war provisions. Everything seems to be soaked in cheap liquor. A war-party of bearded men flash torches in their hands. After moments, the whole camp is lit in a raging fire. The pile of corpses in the middle has caught the bulk of the flames.
As the men walk away (It is later revealed that they are in fact a party from Tyris), the fire behind them starts cooling down. Ashes, mixed with the rising smoke, provide for a cathartic smell. The crisp-burned corpses, on the other hand, provide for a feast-rallying call for the wildlife.
Back to the bearded men. They walk away, mumbling things to eachother, at times, erupting in a loud complaint, or maybe it's frustration, or perhaps just excitement. One of the men is holding a piece of parchment in his hand, a silent declaration of war, as the men see it.
One man, strapping his hammer to his back, is in his head already speaking with their leaders, one "Koen" and one "Jarl". He has a knack for leadership, and he sees this occasion as an important breaking point.
One man, dragging his axe behind him, is worried, and yet, excited. War was about to break out, and even though he could sense the danger, combat was in his very blood.
One man, patting his horse on the head to calm it down, was thinking about ale. And whores. War? War was just an everyday chore. Nothing could persuade him from enjoying himself.
The last man, the archer, was, simply put, scheming. Being of the blood of Tyris, honor was a very real value to him, however, he realized wars aren't won thanks to sheer power. Tactical ramifications, calculations and evaluations, and all the other -ations one can think of were running wildly across his mind.
As the group of men fades away into the tundra, obscured by the flakes heralding an oncoming blizzard, the camera abruptly shifts towards the sea. From the sea, the men of Tyris draw strength. Yet it is from that same sea that their new enemy will rise.
The rest is history.
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Rank: Adventurer
Groups: Lore Writer
, Map Developer, Overseer
Joined: 7/21/2008
Posts: 306
Location: the Tulgey Wood
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An explosion of blood and bones boomingly bellows throughout the shipyard. CRACK!
“Look out, it's an alliteration!“, one of the Insularii tries to warn his fellow swordsman, but it is too late, the letters fall right onto the unsuspecting man, breaking his neck in the process. The weight of the right words in the right time and place is often misjudged.
“FFFFFFFFFFUCK!“, the figure with the giant crossbow insightfully notes just as he is hit by the Insularii juggernaut, fully clad in plate and swishing around a gargantuan sword to boot. They had taken their time, slowly, stealthily advancing, lurking along the river, the makeshift task force hastily established at the Dragon's Kneecap, bent on foiling the Insularii's latest devious scheme to build new ships. Led by an “Alexander”, of the Lucent Brotherhood, whatever that is, the haphazard Vhalurian-Tyrean team manages to make their way right into the heart of the much-hated Insularii operation, right where the ships are still brand new, still smelling of fresh glue and all shiny with coating, just about perfect for a good day's torching.
And that is exactly what they do! Within moments, the ships are aflame, the Insularii are running around, trying to salvage as much provisions as they can before running away, eclipsing themselves, making a run for it, disappearing, escaping, vanishing, and so forth. The bearded man with the scythe is running behind them, still trying to mow them down, while the intrepid Vhalurian Sergeant is scouring the abandoned shipyard for clues as to what the next charade of the Insularii will be. Two happy-go-lucky chaps, the rogues of the group have meanwhile disappeared just as eagerly as the bull-shaggers, while some man clad in white is loitering around, looking for usable pieces of the dead Insularii soldiers' equipment. All in all, it's a chaotically successful mission, another testament to the unfortunate lack of alchemy between the two nations, Vhaluran and Tyris, another totem to their great incapability of collaboration.
Meanwhile, Alexander, the leader of the expedition is nowhere to be seen. Either dead to an Insularii blade or leaping away from the scene as skillfully as he leaped in, nobody will ever know. Or maybe someone will, but that is an entirely different story.
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