Steel of Blood [Ceaden]

[Itailian Maifias]

Pelesar, Avalon
Mai 7th, 657


" Father, can you hear me?"

The young Prince Eothodil bent his head upward as he attempted to look into his father's eyes, the young proud brown eyes that adorned the King's now slumped over head. Within a few seconds, the guards at the door parted their spears and a middle aged physician rushed in, obviously being hurried by the Knight of Lion that was walking a mere few feet behind him. The physician ran right up over to the King, whose head was slumped over and was being held up from falling onto the crowd by Eothodil. He put his hand on the Prince's shoulder and motioned for him to get the King out of the throne and onto the floor, Asur's crown letting out a clang as the King's head was let onto the floor with the rest of his body. The physician took out a small disc and placed it over the King's mouth, held it there for a few seconds and then removed it and examined it. As a frown began to form in the crease lines on his face, he put his ears over the King's chest and after prolonged moments, he slowly brought his head up, shaking slightly, his hands at the same time sliding down the eyelids on the King's face. Afterwards, he gave a long, sad look to the Prince, who bore a look of confusion, and pronounced " The King is dead Your Highness. Heart finally gave out after all these years. The throne is now yours."

The physician then left the room and scurried on out, the Knight who escorted him walking up to Eothodil and then getting on his knee. " I long served your father, and I will continue my oaths under you, until my last breath. "

Eothodil walked over to the knight and placed his hand on the man's shoulder, gesturing for him to rise. He then handed him a paper document and put his hand on his back, walking towards the exit of the Great Hall " Ride my General, and go and inform our little Kingdom of their new King."

[Itailian Maifias]

Pinedale, Southern Avalon
2 weeks after the King's Death

" Archer's fire!"

" Left Wing, Infantry Advance, Spears Forward!"

Sila pulled in his mount's rein's sharply, causing it to turn left and run about the back of his forces a bit. Before him, he watched the pathetic fyrd of the town of Pinedale attempt to fend off his 7th Bull Standard, their mighty red standard with a white bull found in numerous spots over the assembled force of eight hundred and twenty men. Just about ten days ago, a rider coming in from Pelesar had informed him of King Asur's death, and Sila dictated it was time. Time to show Eothodil he was not his older brother Aera, and that he would not allow him to have the throne. No, it was time for a hard working soldier to have it, not some sniveling weakling.

His archers were assembled behind the rows and columns of infantry and at his command, their white feathered munitions were flung into the air and within seconds, buried themselves deep into the chests of the enemy soldiers, bypassing their leather or chainmail armor, some even going through shields. After two volleys, the first line of red platearmoured soldiers lowered their wide tipped spears to a horizontal level and began marching swiftly, with the archers behind them firing one more volley just moments before the first of their spears came in contact with the fyrd's inards. After a few moments of fighting, Sila ordered his second and third lines of infantry in, with their swords drawn, while having the archers pick off the flanks of the enemy, moving them in and in. After nearly an hour of this procedure, there was just a box of about fifty fyrd troops left and that's when Sila order a charge of his cavalry onto their right flank, smashing right through the battered soldiers and their wooden shields, casting them all down and within moments, all were dead. Upon the moment of victory, Sila cantered over on his horse to the five catapults that were lined up just about two hundred yards from the town walls. He approached the officer and gave him a grin and said " I want everyone in that blasted town to learn the true meaning of blasted."

Within seconds, a loose order was given and all five engines hurled fiery balls of stone at the town. Two smashed right through the town's walls, sending timbers everywhere, while the other three crashed down into the town. For two hours the barrage went on, with no returning fire, just the screams of the dying and the silence of the dead. At the end of the hour, Sila ordered all the dead soldiers to be piled in front of what remained of the front gate and then had his banner driven through it. His host then turned north, with their eye sent upon Pelesar, their final goal.

Four Days Later
Pelesar

Smoke drifted up and over to Eothodil, who sat hunched over a map on a great oaken table in the middle of the room. The room was moderately sized, dominated by the table in the middle that bore a map of Avalon, with numerous chairs around it. A fireplace was in the far back of the room and various banners of the clans hung throughout the room. Around the table with the new King was Knight General Adel, and two other men. Both were up in age, however one was truly elderly with his entire head composed of white hair, from the top down to his locks, and his scruffy beard dominated his facial features almost as much as his face. The younger man was around his mid forties and often bore a grim look on his face, something besides the station that he and the elder shared that was in common with them. The young man looked over the map with it's figures and then looked at the elder " So Marshall Tylia, what do you think we should take for a course of action?"

The elder looked over and then dropped a leaden figure of a hawk down onto the map, near the city of Alägcisc in the western parts of the Kingdom. " My lands can gather the Standard together, but it would take more than a week and at Sila's pace, that would be too late. And I know you Ithello can not muster more then three hundred fryd with such short notice. That just leaves the Royal Standard, and despite it's size, it will need reinforcements."

Adel looked over from the fire where he was seated and spoke up " I ride for Aeser Nor tomorrow, see if I can gather the centaurs other races there. Once I arm them, I'll ride for Pelesar with all due haste.

Ithello let out a cough and then chuckled " As good as you are my old friend, I do not believe even you can draw the centaurs out of their self-imposed exile. The last time they were seen was the Moot more then seventy years ago."

Adel brought himself out of the chair and walked over to the map. He leaned over and looked at Ithello " You focus on getting the clans Ithello. Ride out with Eothodil and muster the Marshalls. Aesir will worry about fielding up the Royal Standard and then leave the centaurs to me. Understood?"

Eothodil stood up, previously remaining silent in the whole conversation, and brought a letter and placed it in front of Adel. " Send this to Sabeyma on your way to Nor. We'll need every hand we can get, and if what we've heard about them is true, they'll be a very valueble asset."

[Tuthina]

Eastern Rim, Gsergling, Sabyeman Territory

It took the small envoy of three to cross the uncharted lands between Avalon and the mysterious land of Sabyema and reached their destination - or at least, the most obvious signs of their destination. Beyond the mountain ridge was an endless sea of sands, covering several hundred miles in every directions, with only few bare rocks exposed on the surface to serve as the only thing that resembled any habitable land. If not for their knowledge about the desert dwellers - or even with that - they would not believe any meaningful assistance could be found in such scorching land.

As the hot air from the giant sun boiled the sea of sand, hot air steamed between the sand grains, taking away the water of the riders. It seemed that the water they carried along with them was nothing near enough for them to survive long, thus making them wanting to reach their destination even faster.

It did not take them long, though, to see the first signs of civilisation, as the sound of gallops upon the sand could be heard behind them. Behind the curtain of sand, several figures slowly emerged and presented themselves to the small envoy. It was a small unit of cavalry, with less than ten people riding some kind of yellow horse and galloping towards them and surrounded them. However, they seemed not to be hostile, although it was hard to tell anything since they were wearing some kind of bronze mask that only showed their eyes staring at them, and the extended white silk cloth covered their head and upper body. Beneath that was the sign of civilisation - and more importantly - strength. They were wearing some kind of laminar armour made mostly with silk, and reinforced with plates of metal and leather. Several more extra armour plates were hold onto their body with leather straps too, so that the limbs of bronze skin could be shielded from attack. On the other hand, the large scimitar made of some strange steel, as well as the bronze crossbow on their back, was more than enough to showed that they knew of the arts of war too.

After stopping their mounts, one of the riders slowly emerged from the rank and looked at them silently, as if it was waiting for them to introduce themselves.