A Tale of a Kingdom (IC/OPEN)

[Nuridia]

Chloe rode alongside Jon and a blush appeared over her dark skin as the people looked at her. Nearly everybody turned out to see this new foreigner riding along with their king. Now that they were safe in the city, Chloe unbraided her hair and let it hang free, then she started to smile and wave to the people, a few wave back but all of them had friendly smiles. She was happy that she could do something to ease the stress off of the continent's people.

[Tomia]

Jon looked over at his wife to be and said. "They will love you Chloe. I promise give them but a few days and they will sing your name in the streets." As they walked through the city Jon showed Chloe the buildings and monuments that made the city special. There was the Bell Tower which was one of the tallest buildings in the city. Then there was the massive monument of Jorn Torren the hero of the city. They walked through the market place which was also bustling with sales of food and drink. As he spoke to her Jon hoped Chloe liked the city.

[Adventus Secundus]

'The Crown of Kings is Wisdom'...Elvish proverb

Mrakh'Di, Mrakh'Tar, Arr'Luk

The mountains of the place men called Elfhame were bleak, forbidding. Without pass or passageway through the frowning walls of granite and tumbled boulders, the peaks perennially crowned with snow. The lower forests were temperate and lush, inviting, but few men ventured there. Even fewer sought to breach the high mountains above timberline. Of those, none returned. The Hunters of the King knew their business, and no bumbling mortal was their match. Not in the mountain fastnesses. In over two milennia, no human had made contact with elfkind.

Until now Alta'Ahm the seventh, Mrak of All-World, thought, and frowned where he sat on the Throne of Vision in the high halls of the Crown of Kings, a place worlds away from humanity and the feeble struggles of the Sun People. Now I must see what I must do about it

A bedraggled figure in dirty robes, manacles clanging around her, rune-inscribed against magic and eldritch powers, was escorted into the vast and echoing throne room by two robed and hooded guards, faces inscrutable behind their fierce war-masks, free hands on the hilts of their swords. They chained her between the two ancient statues that dominated the further limits, nearer the great stone doors than the throne proper. Kings of yore, his ancestors. She stood, arms outstretched, head hanging, refusing to look up at the great throne of petrified wood, or the Crown of Seeing, from whose empty sockets his eyes stared.

"You have singlehandedly allowed the work of millennia to be undone." His voice echoed in the stillness of centuries that dwelt in this place. "How is it that you, a mage, a Hunter, were surprised by a mere human, who escaped, his memory unchanged, his mind unbroken, his life intact?"

The figure looked up. She was a woman, her face aquiline and beautiful beneath the dirty cascade of blond hair. A face marked by despair, sorrow, and...something else.
"I could not break him. His mind would only bend. I have never encountered anything like it. Now..." She drew a deep breath. "We have linked. His mind is connected to the race-consciousness of the Arr'Valk, of the entire people. The spells went awry, or he had wards...I don't know. I cannot undo it." She straightened, baring her throat. "I am ready to accept death."

One of the guards stepped forward, his sword drawn and bared to grant her request. Alt'Ahm waved him off.

"You shall not die." He stood from the throne. "Since we cannot avoid contact with them, we will prepare. You will escort me to the Frontier, even as our armies mobilize. These human creatures are stupid, but naturally inquisitive. They will come. We will be ready."

Six Days Later, Frontier. Mount Hoarhight

The rain pattered down in slanting sheets, battering the leaves of the forest and smashing into the undergrowth with a soft rushing sound.

The seventy Hunters were invisible as they huddled in their cloaks against the trees, or under bushes, occasionally shifting ever so slightly to stretch tight muscles or sluice condensation from the insides of the dun masks that covered their upper faces. Their watch, however, was absolutely vigilant. Human activity had been reported in these woods. Alt'Ahm allowed himself a slight grin. He had set aside the armor and panoply of his position for the clothing of one of his men. Sometimes, it was refreshing to get away from the throne, and to force himself to keep up with his own warriors.
It will be soon

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

'Lord Raughin, the Great, and Duke of Vystara! Lord Taemires of Snowforge has promised to join us!'
The courier walked through the hall, and kneeled before Raughin, who sat on his throne, carved out in obsidian long ago.
'Good. Treat yourself to a pint in one of the inns. Dismissed.'
His wife turned to him.
'Surely you do not believe him? He wants the throne for himself. He will betray us.'
'Ofcourse he will betray us. We will just have to make sure we are a bit earlied in betraying him. But for now, it will make everything easier if we work together.'
Their conversation was interrupted by someone else, this time a soldier.
'Lord, the roads have been spiked with the heads of King Edgard's men.'
'Good. A message to those that do not yet know of their fate, and our decision. Anything else?'
'No sir!'
Raughin looked at the man. He was simple. Raughin could tell by the way he looked. Mouth open, not paying that much attention. His uniform was in a good state though. Clean, carefully looked after. They wouldn't send a recruit to bring him a message, so the soldir was a veteran, and one proud of both his job and allegiance. Raughim gave a smile.
'You may go now.'
'Thank you, sir!'
The man stomped outside of the throne room, his steel boots making quite a lot of noise, the sound echoing across the hallway.

In every city and town in Vystara, signs were being placed, some even along the roads.

FOLLOWING IS A MESSAGE TO ALL CRIMINALS, BANDITS AND OUTLAWS.

Your noble Lord and Duke, Raughin the Great, hereby calls upon YOU to join the Vystaran army! Be you man or woman, you are summoned to the city of Kurgan to take up arms, and to join your Duke on the path to greatness! Any that do so will be given amnesty for their crimes!

LONG LIVE VYSTARA

At the training grounds in the Citadel of Kurgan,many had meen armed with the traditional Vystaran wargear. Expensive, but very effective. Full heavy armour with a coat, to protect against the cold, made out of fur, spiked on the back of the armour, hanging behind a greatsword. Each had a shield, just a feet or two smaller then a man. On their belts hung a longsword and two knives.
The forges had indeed been working day and night.
The voice of the training master roared, and echoed across the field.
'What is your craft?!'
'My craft is death!'
'What is your pledge?!'
'My pledge is eternal service!'
'Know no fear!'
'For for a Warrior the only crime is cowardice!'

'You really didn't save any expense, did you? They're all armed like knights.'
'Want to know where the money came from?'
'Obviously.'
'It may have just been the money that those tax collectors that went missing around here for the last couple of years.'
'Really?'
'Yes.'

Two hours later, Throne Room, Kurgan, Vystara

Two armoured men walked towards the throne, a chained prisoner being pushed forward. The soldiers had pure black armour. They were from Eagle's Redoubt. And the man they had with them, well, he was familiar. The Mad Traveller. He seemed exhausted, too.
'Why did you bring him here?'
The guards remained silent, while the Mad Traveller knelt.
'They are coming..'



The guards: http://25.media.tumblr.com/848233f19555 ... 1_1280.jpg

[Dragonic Outland]

Dalan, Capital City of Mandorgan
Castle Diana

"Lords will rise against lords. Provinces will go against provinces. Survival of the fittest will occur and blood will be spilt. Mistress of the Horse, hear me! I am the Soothsayer."

The image changed and soon, images of Elves, Dwarves and fellow Humans were fighting each other. Dead corpses littered the land and the battlefield had developed into a sea of blood. Someone was laughing. Before she could take a good look, the image changed once again.

This time, it was the Soothsayer once again. The Soothsayer was holding onto a sword and advanced towards her. He raised his sword and plunged it into her heart ...

Alleria awoke abruptly, droplets of sweat dripping from her head. Her slumber was ruined by a nightmare. She was sure that there were tensions of a civil war arising but she was unsure whether provinces would fight against each other. If that should occur, a large amount of deaths would be imminent. Then, she decided to put that thought aside first. What was important was that she did her job as Mistress of the Horse.

She stretched herself, in an attempt to freshen up herself. She took her formal clothings and walked into the bathroom that was situated near to her bedroom. Having a bath, she pondered over her dream. It was certainly a weird dream, of unknown certainty. The fact that the self-proclaimed Soothsayer knew that she was Mistress of the Horse disturbed her. Then, she left the bathroom, fully dressed in her formal clothing. Two servants attended to Alleria as Alleria walked out of her room, towards the dining hall. The dining hall was adorned with emeralds, boasting a beautiful green scenery for all who eat or rest here. She ambled towards a seat as another servant placed the chair for her. She sat onto her seat and looked upon the table, knowing that the chefs would have cooked her meal for her. With her emerald spoon, she began to nibble at her food gracefully. It was a must for nobles like her to be able to commit any actions with grace.

Finishing her meal, she walked around her castle, appreciating the beauty. The land was given to her by the now deceased king as a reward for serving him. It was a gift so that she would continue to train royal calvary into powerful warhorses to prepare for any sudden declaration of war or perhaps even a war that was already declared. On the land given to her, she built her own castle as her offical residence. There had not been much calling of nobles to the court so she had been staying in her castle, oftenly going to the royal stables to train the horses. As Mistress of the Horse, it was her job after all.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

The lone warrior knelt down, his cloak touching the snow. He pulled ofc his glove, and brought it to the splash of blood that lay among the snow. He dipped his finger in it, and brought it to his mouth. Not human blood. More that of an animal. Feral. He followed the trial of blood, and found a dead wolf, cut open with a sword. He saw a man, not that far away. Was it that time of year again? Hehe. Seriously? A tax collector? He walked over to the man.
'Hello. I believe we haven't met?'


The Mad Traveller had been escorted to a room in the castle, wich would function as his new prison. He had promised to join Lord Raughin in his cause, and to aid him. Mainly with information about them. The Elves. How he swore that him surviving was somehow a huge mistake. And how he would kill them all when he would see them. The Mad Traveller wanted revenge, and if the Elves were to openly attack the provinces, Raughin promisef him that he would give him his revenge.
(I had a longer post. Phone said 'no!', did weird and deleted it. Ah well.)

[Dragonic Outland]

Dalan, Capital City of Mandorgan
Northern Entrance of Dalan

Alleria had exited her castle with two of her servants following her. Her emerald green dress gave her distinct identity from the two servants beside her. The servants were trained to defend their master, who was Alleria, as Alleria took a stroll around Dalan. While she was walking around casually, she found a foreign courier mounted outside the northern entrance of Dalan. The entrance guards were preventing him from passing.

When the entrance guards noticed her presence, they bowed, saying "Lady Alleria." She nodded to them as they regained their posture. She found it weird that a messenger would come to Dalan, the Capital City of Mandorgan. Curiosity in her made her gesture to one of the guard using her right index finger.

The guard walked towards Alleria politely and asked "How may I help you, Milady."
Alleria replied "What does that messenger from afar seeks?"
The guard replied "The messenger bears news. He demands the presence of one of the members of the Royal Court to hear him and would not state which province he was from nor would he say what news he have brought forth. We had tried to demand him to tell us but he would not. I would not trouble you milady, but if you would."
Alleria nodded in approval as the guard returned back to the entrance, shouting "Milady Alleria, Mistress of the Horse, had abide to your request. Speak to her."

Alleria walked calmly towards the messenger and asked politely "You have seeked the presence of a member of the Royal Court. I, as Mistress of the Horse, as a member of the Royal Court, hereby hears what you have brought with you from afar. What is it that you wish to say and which province do you represent."

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

The messenger sat on his horse, and looked at the woman. A member of the Royal Court. Good. Time to bring the news.
'I represent the province of Vystara, led by the mighty Lord Raughin the Great! The Province of Vystara has been neglected for too long, and now is the time that we rise to claim what is rightfully ours! Vystara has claimed it's independence, and has declared war on any that remain loyal to the now deceased incompetent king Edgard! Any that can see the truth about Edgard, and the return of both Elf and Dwarf, is called upon to join Vystara's rightfull revolution!'
He grabbed a rugged sack from the back of his horse, and threw it forward. He knew what the bag contained. Heads. Lots of 'em.
He awaited the response, hand on his sword, and ready to turn around and return back to Vystara as soon as possible.

[Dragonic Outland]

Dalan, Capital City of Mandorgan
Northern Entrance of Dalan

Alleria observed as the rugged sack falls onto the ground. The entrance guards stood in front of her and unsheathed their swords, pointing it at the messenger. They found that such a way to treat a member of the Royal Court was rude enough and the items in the rugged sack appeared to be suspicious. Alleria spoke to the guards "It is alright. However, your actions do not depict the good behaviour of an entrance guard. After you unsheathe your swords, open the sack."

The entrance guards apologised and unsheathed their sword as Alleria requested and opened the sack. When the sack was torn upon, many heads rolled out of the sack. Alleria's eyes widened, but was able to conceal her shock quickly. She calmed herself quickly and replied to the messenger, "How dare the Province of Vystara show such disrespect to Dalan, the Capital City. You, a mere messenger, have no rights to mock King Edgard as incompetent. Since Vystara have declared independence, the betrayer Lord Raughin will expect retaliation. Now, return to your master. You shall be spared for the message that you bear, but from today, any men of Vystara that dare sat foot within one mile from Dalan shall be mercilessly tortured and executed. Go."

One of the entrance guard cleared away the heads as the other three entrance guards sheathed their swords and pointed them at the foreign messenger. They showed their disapproval of him to continue staying and wanted the messenger to return immediately.

Alleria called one of her servant to pass the message that the Province of Vystara had declared independence and Lord Raughin intended to claim the throne for himself to the rest of the members of the Royal Court. They would be informed promptly of this incident as she headed back to her castle with the other servant. When her anger had simmered down, she remembered about her dream. The nightmare had an obvious link to the declaration of independence. She whispered softly to herself "Provinces will go against provinces."

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

'Well, as you may note, I am from our beloved capital city.'
'I can see. The king is dead. Why are you here?'
'I know, it is grave news to us all, friend. But still, I must do my job. I'm the tax collector.'
'Oh, really?'
'Yes. I am to meet up with the royal guard, outside Kurgan.'
The grizzled warrior looked at the tax collector. The man had no idea of the revolution. Heh.
'I can take you there, I'm on my way there myself...'

'The heads causrd quite the stir, lord. The lady very shocked. Especially when I called Edgard incompetent.'
The messenger pulled a fake sad face.
'Oh, how sad. Good job. You may leave.'
Another man approached the giant obsidian throne of the Duke of Vystara.
'Lord, it seems that we have a new prisoner on Eagle's Redoubt.'
'Oh, who?'
'Another tax collector..'
'Heh, they never learn to stop.. Anyways, I want you to contact Snowforge. Tell them that we will support their claim to the throne and that we only wish our independence.'
'Yes lord!'
The man walked out of the throne room to write a letter to the Lord of Snowforge and to send a messeger to deliver it.
'Not that that's true. Anyways, have there been any replies from other provinces yet?'
'No, lord.'
'Then I want increased border patrols on all sides. Even navy patrols. Spare no expense, after all, the tax collector has just paid a visit, meaning we're a bit richer again! Hehehe'

[Dragonic Outland]

Dalan, Capital City of Mandorgan
Castle Diana

Alleria sat in her seat at the far end of the main hall in her castle. The seat was made of emerald, the green surface shining brightly. She had been thinking about the sudden declaration of independence of the Province of Vystara. It was as if the prophecy of the Soothsayer in her dream was going to be true. She was reluctant to believe the words that came out of the Soothsayer but it was too real to be dismissed away easily.

She changed into normal clothings and walked to the royal stables while having a troubled expression on her face.
Just then, her personal adviser asked "Milady, sorry for disturbing you but you seemed troubled. May I be of any aid to you?"
Alleria replied "Maybe not, but I thank you for your offer. The Province of Vystara had declared independence, why may lead to other Provinces rebelling against the royal throne. A civil war may arise in the Mandorgan, in our beloved kingdom."
The adviser replied "Perhaps you could ally with the rest of the Royal Court in order to destroy this outrageous rebellion. Show them who are the real rulers of the great Kingdom. You have the respect of all the horse trainers throughout the Kingdom. You are the best horse trainer throughout the Kingdom, which afterall allowed you to rise to the position of Mistress of the Horse. Every member of the Royal Court has the respect of a part of the residents in the Kingdom. Together, the Royal Court would be able to destroy all who oppose them."
Alleria replied "Indeed, I may do so but I do not seek the throne. I seek peace and prosperity to the great Kingdom, so would our former leader who had deceased recently."
The adviser replied "But-"
Alleria replied "I understand you care for my survival and my power, but enough my dearest adviser. We have arrived at the royal stables."

The royal stables were filled with well-disciplined horses, with the horses kept up in huge, well-maintained cages. Alleria released one of the horses from its cage and mounted onto it. She was going to let the horse undergo discipline-specific trainings. She rode out of the stables towards the open field where the horse could be trained ...

After the completion of the training, she returned the horse back to its cage and ordered servants to send for food. Food were given to all the horses in the royal stables. Sweat was already trickling down her long hair and her clothes were totally drenched. She headed back to her castle and went for a bath, before changing back to her formal clothing. Most probably, she would be visiting Lord Raughin to clarify the reliability of the message passed to her by the messager from Vystara soon. Furthermore, several of the tax collectors sent out by the Royal Court had walked out of Dalan and never returned. It was most likely the doing of a particular Province. She suspected it was the Province of Vystara as it was the first Province to openly declare its independence. However, accusations without solid evidence were useless, and thus, she should and would visit the Province of Vystara.

She sat in her seat at the far end of the main hall in her castle, taking a break after training the horse for quite some time.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

The men looked at the ancient ruins built against the mountain.
'Seriously, you're not suggesting we actually in there?'
'Any better ideas for not freezing?'
'I swear, those burrows are haunted! Ghosts, walking dead - that kind of stuff!'
'Oh come now, surely that ain't true. Anyways, I wasn't planning to enter it and sleep and sit along rotting dead bodies of our ancestors, I was referring to that ruin next to it.'
'The house?'
'Yeah. It still stands, has a roof, a fireplace, and we got a brilliant view from out there to the coast.'
'Well, okay then..'
The border patrol entered the ruins, and set up a small camp in the house.

Eagle's Redoubt

The man screamed as he was dragged inside the dungeon, bound by chains.
'But what have I done wrong? I am merely a tax collector and representive of the court!'
'Congrats mate, you just answered your own question.'
After that, he was thrown in a small room, locked behind iron bars, never to come out again. Like everyone else locked inside. The man knew this very well. This place was where the worst criminals of the Kingdom were held. Nobody ever came out.

[Costa Cookies]

The sharp knife flicked across her throat with practiced grace, she brought the wooden cup up to her throat with the same finesse. The cup quickly filled with the dark, almost black blood. All of her movements were precise, perfected from years practice. But this time it was different, there was excitment in the air, something about it seemed different from when she usually performed the blood ritual. The chalk dust pattern seemed so much more more intricate, so... alive.
The cup was full with her too dark blood and the bleeding had stopped, and with what seemed like relish she brought the cup to her lips, the metallic taste of blood flooded her senses, and then, quite suddenly, she wasn't in the highest tower of her castle. Images flashed before her eyes, dwarves working on their furnaces, swords and armour being finely crafted. The heat was overwhelming. The image quickly changed though, she was now in a forest, the rain was falling heavily all around. She could see about seventy elvish hunters lying in wait. She knew of the location they were in.
A strong jerk pushed her backwards, and with a final glimpse of the rainy forest and the firey hot forges she was back in her tower. She know knew what she had to do. She had gotten the message from Vystara a few day ago, she hated the idea of following them. And the rumors that had sprung up of increased dwarf activity and actual sightings of elves, she had waited till full moon to do the blood ritual so the magic will be at its' most powerful, the elves would have obviously protected themselves from prying eyes. There was no reason to take any uneeded risks.
She sat at her writing desk, and carefully penned a message back to Vystara. She wrote each word with care, she didn't want Vystara attacking her anytime soon.

Lord Raughin,
While we believe there is need for a king or queen we do not approve of you hasty claims.
I do not want to go to war with you, if you attack my people or my allies I'll be forced to take up arms against you.
I regret it very much and do not want a bloody war between our two great kingdoms.

Yours regretfully,
Talfrynn Remord

- 2 Days later -
She had reached the spot where her vision had taken her, she had left her horse just outside the forest. There was no need to take it into danger. She walked confidently into where she estimated she would be most seen, raising her hands she called out over the sounds of the forest,
"Elves! I come in peace, I have need to speak with our ruler!"

[Dragonic Outland]

After Alleria had enough rest, she walked down several dim-lit hallways towards the entrance of the castle. Together with her personal horse, two servants and two bodyguards, she exited the castle. She mounted on her horse and she began riding out of Dalan. Behind her were the two servants and two bodyguards trying to ride as fast as Alleria. However, they could not for an obvious reason.

As she exited the entrance of Dalan, a gentle breeze made her long hair flow freely. She would be going on a long journey, to reach Vystara but she just could not trust anyone else to finish the job. With her quiver filled with arrows behind her back and the bow on her hand, she set out towards her destination. Along the way, she met several bandits but their hearts were pierced through by arrows. The bodyguards sometimes had to hop down from their horses to confront the obstructers.

Alas, after a long ride, she had reached the Province of Vystara. At the gates, she said politely to the entrance guards, "Allow me in. I am Alleria, Mistress of the Horse. I seek a meeting with your leader, Lord Raughin."

While she was waiting, she looked around. She was surprised that the Province of Vystara had a great increase in the amount of patrols. The Province of Vystara might be rich but it would be hard to afford such a great increase unless some incidents occured. The Province of Vystara appeared to be much more powerful than when the King was alive. For some reason, the place stank of treachery. Indeed, the loyalty that the Province of Vystara had for the recently deceased King seemed to be fake. No matter what, she had to meet Lord Raughin to understand the situation first. A formal meeting was most defintely desirable.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

'Hoohoo! A letter! Seriously though. A letter. Would be rude not to write a response.'
Raughin walked over to a desk as the courier left the room. He sat down, grabbed a feather and dipped it in the ink.

Lady Talfrynn Remord,
We have no plans to invade you, but be carefull who you choose as your allies. Actually, I suggest you claim your independence too. The Royal Court has nearly no influence here, and what have they ever done to the north? All they ever sent to us were tax collectors and criminals. Ofcourse, I can not speak for you, but do question your loyalties again.

Lord Raughin,
Duke of Vystara, Lord of Eagle's Redoubt.

He stood up, and walked back to the throne room, where he sat down on his obsidian throne. A guard ran towards him. He seemed to have run up to the Citadel as fast as he could.
'Yes?'
The man knelt.
'My lord! There is someone from Dalan here! The Royal Court, she''s at the gate!'
'Another tax collector? Throw her in Eagle's Red-'
'She claims to be a member of the royal court, Lord!'
'Ah, that makes it all the more interesting.'
He stood up, the chainmail clinging under the steel plates.
'Bring me to her.'
The guard brought his Duke to the gate, followed by Lady Elegil and four members of the Crimson Path, Raughin's sworn guard, all clad in bloodied armour. They followed the men through the streets, past the forges, smelters, docks and fisheries. Snow was once again beginning to fall.
Very fitting for the days ahead, Raughin thought.

[Dragonic Outland]

Alleria dismounted from her horse when she saw Lord Raughin. She bowed, before returning to her usual posture. "Lord Raughin, a pleasure to meet you. I presume you still remember me since I had trained several of the horses in your stables into powerful warhorses. However, I do not consider the situation I am in to be as pleasant perhaps." Her servants and bodyguards dismounted and was staying behind her, bowing to Lord Raughin and his wife, Lady Elegil. Alleria continued "You have came to meet me, despite your busy schedule, for that I have to thank you. Now that the formalities had been completed, I am afraid I have questions and I seek answers from you." Alleria used her hands to tie her long hair to the back before saying "May I speak to you without ..."

Alleria was anxious to receive answers but she was defintely not foolish enough to leak such informations. Irrelevant people who could not provide answers. The entrance guards, servants of the Duke, and other unneccessary people who need not hear what she was going to say to Lord Raughin. Unless Lord Raughin did not realise that, he would most likely agree to her request.

Then, she realised snow was beginning to fall. Luckily for her, her thick formal clothing was able to keep her warm but her servants were not that lucky. The bodyguards were trained to endure the absence of heat but the servants would not be able to endure the chilling cold of winter.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

Raughin smiled.
'Ofcourse, a pleasure indeed.'
He was tall, and stood above two meters, as did his guards.
'Yes, ofcourse, ofcourse. A place more.... private. If you all just follow us.'
The Duke, his wife and the Crimson Path began walking their way up to the Citadel, through the streets. Everywhere people were working. Merchants selling their wares, fishermen unloading their payload, smiths crafting weapons.
At last, they arrived at the Citadel, and proceeded to the throne room, where Raughin and Lady Elegil each sat down on their respective thrones. The room had been empty before their arrival, so it seemed private enough to him.
'So, you had questions?'

[Dragonic Outland]

Alleria followed the hosts quietly, silently observing the busy lifestyles of the residents in Vystara. When she finally arrived in the throne room of Vystara, she felt that reciprocal courtesy was required and sat at one of the seats before replying with a smile, "Indeed. I have heard from a messenger that the Province you control have declared independence. Could you clarify if this is true?"

Her servants gave a look of gratitude to Alleria while her bodyguards stayed close to Alleria, their hands close to their weapons in case of an emergency. The tension in the room was unpleasant, the treachery in the atmosphere almost too overwhelming to the state that Alleria could suffocate. She hoped that the declaration of independence was just a joke or a lie from the messenger but she knew the chances were small.

Alleria continued "Also, if you do not mind, have your guards seen tax collectors passing by? Several of our tax collectors had disappeared when they were doing their job."

Alleria did not make her question sound as accusations but instead, innocent questions. She had to sound like it as she had no solid evidence that it was in fact, the Province of Vystara who had locked up the tax collectors.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

The Crimson Path positioned themselves next to the thrones.
'No, ofcourse not.. That's why we are preparing for war and are increasing border patrols. What do you think? Yes, we have declared our independence, as is our rightfull claim. For too long have we been neglected. So, yes, we have declared our independence.'
Do not mistake that from a claim to the throne, since it is not.'
At the notifying about the tax collectors, he smiled.
'Yes, indeed. For some reason they never wanted to leave. Spending tax payers money and all. They've decided to live on an island not far away. I can show it to you, if you like..?'

[Dragonic Outland]

Alleria started to analyze what Lord Raughin had said a statement by a statement. She was certainly not surprised to hear that they had declared independence. They were really never loyal to the throne anyway. This despicable traitor, no wonder the place stank of treachery. She kept her anger to herself, while still maintaining her calm expression towards Raughin. Then, she continued to understand the statements "They never wanted to leave." and "They've decided to live on an island not far away." They sounded more like "They never wanted to stay." and "They've been forced to live in < > not far away."

She started to think ... Where could there be a place for so many tax collectors to stay in. The only place possible near the castle that the Duke lived in was ...

She whispered to herself "Eagle's Redoubt."

The god-forsaken land where all the worse criminals residing in the great Kingdom were sent here, never to be released ever again. She said softly but filled with anger "How could you?"

[Principality of Gheb]

"My liege it has begun.", a messenger reported.

Lucius was in the stable tending to his draught horse; t was his preferred was to spend his time, other than training. He contemplated on what the messenger had said, and simply waved him off, "Wait.", the messenger stopped, "Send word to Serrenfield that I request a meeting with Lord Remord.", the messenger nodded, and begun to walk to the courtyard, "Immediately!", Lucius ordered.

The messenger jumped at the sudden order, saddled up one of the scouting horses, ordered a flag bearer to join him, and they departed for Serrenfield.

Lucius knew where his loyalty lie, to his people. He had enough land to provide for his people, and he was not power-hungry like Vystara or Snowforge; he was hoping that Serrenfield felt the same way, because the new threat of the elves were ever present.

[The Armed Republic of Dutch Coolness]

'How? Its not that hard, really. You just throw 'em into it. Why? That's your question I think. Well, I may have accidentally mistaken them all for one of the hundreds of criminals that get sent here every year. Then again, tax collectors are all criminals, hmm? Well, you can pick then up from their holiday I guess. If you insist.'

[Adventus Secundus]

The sharp knife flicked across her throat with practiced grace, she brought the wooden cup up to her throat with the same finesse. The cup quickly filled with the dark, almost black blood. All of her movements were precise, perfected from years practice. But this time it was different, there was excitment in the air, something about it seemed different from when she usually performed the blood ritual. The chalk dust pattern seemed so much more more intricate, so... alive.
The cup was full with her too dark blood and the bleeding had stopped, and with what seemed like relish she brought the cup to her lips, the metallic taste of blood flooded her senses, and then, quite suddenly, she wasn't in the highest tower of her castle. Images flashed before her eyes, dwarves working on their furnaces, swords and armour being finely crafted. The heat was overwhelming. The image quickly changed though, she was now in a forest, the rain was falling heavily all around. She could see about seventy elvish hunters lying in wait. She knew of the location they were in.
A strong jerk pushed her backwards, and with a final glimpse of the rainy forest and the firey hot forges she was back in her tower. She know knew what she had to do. She had gotten the message from Vystara a few day ago, she hated the idea of following them. And the rumors that had sprung up of increased dwarf activity and actual sightings of elves, she had waited till full moon to do the blood ritual so the magic will be at its' most powerful, the elves would have obviously protected themselves from prying eyes. There was no reason to take any uneeded risks.
She sat at her writing desk, and carefully penned a message back to Vystara. She wrote each word with care, she didn't want Vystara attacking her anytime soon.

Lord Raughin,
While we believe there is need for a king or queen we do not approve of you hasty claims.
I do not want to go to war with you, if you attack my people or my allies I'll be forced to take up arms against you.
I regret it very much and do not want a bloody war between our two great kingdoms.

Yours regretfully,
Talfrynn Remord

- 2 Days later -
She had reached the spot where her vision had taken her, she had left her horse just outside the forest. There was no need to take it into danger. She walked confidently into where she estimated she would be most seen, raising her hands she called out over the sounds of the forest,
"Elves! I come in peace, I have need to speak with our ruler!"

The Hunters stood, and the forest itself seemed to move and come alive. Men in green and gray, men faceless behind their masks, the long darkened blades of their glaives a bristling wall facing the intruder, a row of archers behind, arrows nocked on their bowstrings.

He stood himself, leaning on the long haft of his war axe, hand pushing the hood with its mask back, grey-blue eyes blinking in the sunlight as the stormclouds broke and the light poured through. Somewhere, a hawk screamed as it stooped upon its prey.

"I am Alta'Ahm, King of the Elven-folk. What brings you into our domain?"

[Nuridia]

Jon looked over at his wife to be and said. "They will love you Chloe. I promise give them but a few days and they will sing your name in the streets." As they walked through the city Jon showed Chloe the buildings and monuments that made the city special. There was the Bell Tower which was one of the tallest buildings in the city. Then there was the massive monument of Jorn Torren the hero of the city. They walked through the market place which was also bustling with sales of food and drink. As he spoke to her Jon hoped Chloe liked the city.

"This city is very grand, and very lovely." "So this is your capital?" "I've never seen anything so lovely as this before." "So you have informed the lords?" "If it's not too much trouble I should like to meet them."

[Tomia]

"Yes, Storren is the seat of power in Tamlar. I sent a letter to my brother and the lords I left in charge of the city before we left. I have not told them of our engagement yet though. All the lords of the provience have come to greet us. I will call a meeting in the Great Hall of my lords and my brothers. We will tell them together. Now let us head to the castle.