Gaea, A Fantasy Role Play (IC)

[Damak Var]

Between Ar-Ashalesh and Marshala

The long column of that was the Republic Army marched in step headed North. Drums beat and trumpets played cheerful tunes. Praetor Aetius rode near the front chewing on a loaf of bread. The heat of the day had left him sweating but he would not show discomfort before the men. Like the rest of them, he rode in full battle gear. From his helmet sprouted green horsehair plumes that looked regal enough. Though looking confident, the Praetor was still apprehensive about the battle to come.

In an effort to draw out the armies of the Northern barbarians, he had set the outriders to pillaging any villages they came across. Within the past week, at least a dozen had been put to the torch. Paletinian light riders swept in quickly to butcher the inhabitants, plunder the valuables and set fire to all the buildings. Faster galleys had been set to raiding the coastal fishing villages. In addition to drawing out the armies, such an effort served to destabilize their entire society. Food would not come into the cities yet hundreds of refugees would.

He decided on taking the load road to Marshala. Swinging inland to do more raiding then back west again towards the city where the rode forked when one traveled west from Melesah. So be it if the northern barbarians suddenly swept down to take back Ar-Ashalesh. They had sold the population as slaves and plundered every thing of value anyways. It would be an empty victory.

In an effort to stay further protected, the Republic Fleet shadowed the armies movements along the coast. With the sea on their west, the army had but one flank to protect. Plus a constant resupply by ship which was sorely needed. As the northerners heard word of the armies approach, they soon found the wells along the way poisoned. Water was needed in the scorching heat to keep the men from falling over. They suffered on the marches but nothing that was unexpected of a Republic soldier.

Along the road, Praetor Aetius examined the smoking ruin of what was once a village. The work of his auxiliary light cavalry. Charred remains of what could be burned were left behind. Along with piles of bodies strewn about. The women had been stripped naked and mutilated. Among the dead were also children. He had given orders not to leave the dead as they were so that the Northerners could be further enraged by the horror they witnessed. It was an ugly business but the Praetor approved. All the more reason for the these Northern cities to surrender and live as a client state of the Paletinian Republic. The sooner that happened, the sooner their enlightening civilization could be brought to these lands. As a military man he felt that he was an instrument used to spread the great gift of Paletinian culture across Gaea. Blood may be shed but within a generation these barbarians would be uplifted. Some would be doomed to slavery as would their children. Yet that was the order of things and it served to bring glory to the Republic and their Gods. In Aetius's mind, there was no calling more divine from its inception.

[New Armarzia]

"A fire burnt our hearts, but this fire did not harm, only comfort those it embraced. This fire was one of many signs that you were favored among our most beloved lady. A lady whose love and compassion knows no boundaries, her eyes and heart could not comprehend what an abomination was, besides one who needs love. But that fire was extinguished by the Gods and their servants when they struck down our fair lady. A new fire exists now, a hungry fire that requires us to consume or be consumed. It is the curse we bear for experiencing pure love and allowing it to die. Pledge your service to this council that knows no death and before this age ends we will extinguish this corrupt fire with your heart with the old fire of compassion."
-The First Assembly of Memories

Outside The Vault of Bound Passion
Kalzmere Mountains
Northern Wasteland

Drakysis stood in front of an archway just tall enough so the minotaur did not have to bend his head to enter. Around him were the bodies of human and elven knights bearing a symbol of some God that Drakysis did not worship. The snow-covered ground was soaked in the blood of these knights that Drakysis and his honor guard had slain. His honor guard, made up of minotaurs, a werewolf, and a giant were busy searching the bodies and looking around the exterior of the complex that was built into the mountain. Drakysis continued to stand before the entrance, staring into the blackness that it was. Fear continuously attempted to besiege his mind and he saw how the light of day refused to pierce the dark that was within this entrance.

The body of one of the knights began to stir at the feet of Drakysis. The large minotaur readied his axe, but soon the helmet and chain armor slipped oft knight and began to stand on its own. Smoke began to form in the armor and take a vaguely humanoid shape reinforced by the armor that the smoke wore. The shadowy figure stood before the leader of all the minotaur tribes in The Waste, unmoving save for the constant reshaping of the smoke. Drakysis began to hear whispers in his ears with all sorts of voices. "Leave your men behind, the light in their hearts is not strong enough to keep the darkness at bay," said the voice an old man.

Drakysis knew what the voices were, it was how the shadow spoke. This shadow, like Drakysis, was a servant of The Eternal Council. Though this shadow had failed its original charge long ago and that was why Drakysis was made a servant to The Council. "What is within this mountain?" asked Drakysis who looked past the being and continued to stare into the unnatural dark.

The voice of a very young girl whispered the answer, "A friend of yours, someone like me who has been hidden away for a long, long time." Drakysis's face began to express inquisitive excitement, but then the voice stopped his joy. It was once again the girl's voice, though it seemed choked up and sad, "No, only one is here. This one was too sad to return with me long ago and decided to hide away from the world he failed, but he was followed and trapped."

Drakysis let out a breath of disappointment, but he was still glad some kind of victory may be pulled from this. He began to walk forward to the entrance of the prison, walking straight past the possessed armor he spoke to. The captain of his guard looked to him and Drakysis said, "Stay here and await my return." Drakysis continued to walk purposely to the gateway and he passed through, all the snow and sunlight turned to black as he passed the threshold. "I cannot see, how am I suppose to find anything in this darkness?"

The whispers a young man who exuded confidence responded, "You do not to see, simply follow where the light within yourself leads. It will seek out light deeper within this unhallowed place." Drakysis closed his eyes and began to walk wherever his gut feeling told him, but after a few steps he heard the whispers of the young man again, "Do not let fear take your heart, Drakysis, or the dark were surely claim as its own and our friend may mistake you for the evil we face. You do not to need fear for I will be with you every step that you take." Drakysis took a deep breath and pressed onward into the darkness. Loud roaring began to bellow from deeper within the mountain, but the minotaur pressed on...

[Imperialisium]

Hashar Fortress

Suleyk Al-Hashim, from an impoverished noble family living near Jaffasha, was a member of the White Company. He was an officer, not high ranking but usually supervised the Fortress watchmen on duty. He was patrolling several levels down, his lamellar gloves hanging on his brown leather belt. His helm was also off, hanging from a hip loop. His scimitar, a family heirloom, was at his hip.

Stopping in the gloomy corridor and nodding at a passing guardsman as he made the rounds. He cupped his hands and blew hot breath into them. some of the corridors were very drafty, and cold winds at night frequently assailed his body heat. He had been with the White Company for a while, a skilled swordsman, and a veteran of a couple engagements under his belt. He could use a bow, but preferred a crossbow, as a quarrel at close range could do the same damage as an arrow at close range. That and a compact crossbow was easier to wield then a bow in confined spaces like the corridors of the Hashar Fortress.

Rounding up the steps he ascended several floors when he saw one of the guards before him grasp his sword. Suleyk instinctively grabbed the hilt of his scimitar and motioned to the guard, who, in turn motioned Suleyk over.

"I swear I heard something. A clang from up above."

"Smell that." replied Suleyk.

"Fire!"

"Sound the alarm!" shouted Suleyk and several men started shouting and grabbing the closest weapons, or anything that could be used as one, and began rushing in all directions. The alarm bells began to chime a minute later as Suleyk and several other men bolted up the stairs. Smelling smoke as it wafted from their Commanders study.

Suleyk felt the handle, it was hot, and he stepped back. A man handed him an axe, and Suleyk swung. The axe blade thudded into the thick door, then again, and again. The door was thick and well made, it took several swings for it to begin to splinter enough to make a hole. Some of the men where yelling things like, "Theo!"

"Commander!"

"Try to open the door!"

"Can you hear us!"

The smoke was bad, black and bellowing, causing all the men to cough and gag. Suleyk swung, a plank shattered and he stabbed an armored arm through the hole. Trying to grasp the wrought iron handle. He shot his hand back, realizing it was scorching hot due to the heat. He put on a lamellar glove, and snaked his arm through once more. Grasping the handle he turned the lock. The men ripped open the door and stormed in with hands, rags, and gloves covering their noses and mouths.

Smoke burned their throats, watered the eyes, and got into their clothing. Suleyk saw his commanding officer on the ground and in shear adrenaline grasped Theo by the collar. Dragging him from the room as men tore down burning tapestries, objects, and used anything to smother the flames. Feet up the stairs sounded and glancing back he saw men carrying heavy buckets.

The bucket brigade had arrived, he had not realized it had taken time to break open the heavy door. Men started throwing water on the flames, beat it with rolled up blankets, or through thick heavy carpets upon the flames. It was a frenzy of activity as outside men ran to their posts, and the gates double checked for a breach.

As the smoke began to die down Suleyk walked back into the room, and saw one of the men holding up what looked like an ostrich egg. Or something similar, though, in his gut he knew it was no ostrich egg. The man holding it was exclaiming how cool it felt. Odd, this place was an inferno just a minute before. Glancing back he saw his Commander slumped up by the wall where he had left him.

He shrieked, dropping the egg, and Suleyk saw it in slow motion slam onto the floor. But, it did not break.

"It moved!" said the man. The man was shocked and visibly shaken by some means Suleyk or anyone else could comprehend. Yet, rumors of their commanders more...secret practices was common place with the Company, and glancing about at the various objects Suleyk ordered everyone to vacate the room.

"Get our Commander some water!" added Suleyk as he bent down next to the egg inquisitively...

[Damak Var]

Hashar Fortress

A small coterie of light cavalry rode through the deserts from watering hole to watering hole. The locations of these places of sustenance having been provided by the Arcani. They had taken to the garb of the desert peoples wearing cloth that protected them from the sun. Although their leader, Prefect Khadorius, had insisted that they ride each day in full battle gear. For the light cavalry, that was either light chain mail or leather jerkins. Along with kettle helms whose brims served to help block out the sun. It was a long journey through the great desert which was why the Prefect had specifically brought along auxiliary units who were acquainted with the desert. They were as loyal to Paletine as any in the Republic Army and could be trusted for such an expedition.

Upon arrival the Prefect made sure the standards of the Republic Army were shown along with that of Paletine itself, a white rose on a green background. He saw the smoke in the distance, wondering what that could be. He also wondered why a mighty fortress had been built this far out in the desert. There were no major roads coming through here and it held little strategic value. Must have been difficult to maintain as there were no major sources of water around the land was not arable. Perhaps it served as a buffer for the Orc tribes southeast of here. The Prefect stopped the coterie before the gates and raised a hand.

"I come on behalf Praetor Kyros Aetius and the Paletine Republic!" He shouted.

[New Armarzia]

"...They stood there before us. We were set to defeat them, there was no way they could have won, but...their Gods must have interfered out of...spite? Jealously? Hatred for our dear lady? I do not know. But a single blow guided by their cruel Gods struck her and she vanished. They stole her life away from this flawed world and they took away the hope of our forces. Her guardian stood paralyzed in that moment for she had failed her duty. Half of the army witnessed that event and fell lifeless to the ground. The sole reason they fought on was stolen from them. Half of our lady's champions were slain, another three captured leaving only one besides myself. But that other one could not stand the loss of such a perfect being, he has left in exile with the few survivors of that battle to hide away from a world willing to kill such compassion and care. Only I remain to serve her in the aftermath of our most beloved's fall. You may be above me in rank, but I demand that you ensure her legacy, her memory, her purpose lives on and that those who serve the beings that brought about her fall be brought to justice. A devoted army of thousands fell today and only I remain, it is time for you to act and make amends for this folly.
-The Trial of the Fallen

The Vault of Bound Passion
Kalzmere Mountains
Northern Wasteland

"This place was originally intended as a tomb for the few survivors that witnessed the fall of the one you serve as champion to," whispered the familiar sad voice of the little girl into Drakysis's ears as he walked through the darkness. "They hid here from the world in this darkness so they would never have to see a world without the perfection of your fallen charge." The voice changed to that of an old man, though it sounded especially weary, "But as I have learned, the fallen champion's of our lady are still bound in duty to her even in death. Those who fled expected a quick fall, but have since faced a constant war against the darkness that has claimed this place since those followers of the cruel Gods have discovered it and changed it into a prison for the already defeated beings here. But their hearts are strong, hopefully none have succumbed to the darkness yet."

Drakysis continued to walk without saying a word, at first he was unsure walking blindly through the dark, but with each step he felt more sure of himself as he traversed this tomb that was void of light. The roaring the minotaur heard before grew louder as Drakysis journeyed deeper into the prison. He finally broke his silence and asked to what he assumed was the specter who constantly accompanied him as a mentor and advisor, "What is that which cries deep within?"

"That is who we seek," said the voice of the brave, young man. "Now is the time to steel your heart, if you show any fear the darkness might take hold. The one we seek has been battling this darkness for longer then you have lived, if it senses darkness in your heart you will be struck down."

"I thought the one I sought was like you, not some beast roaring in a dungeon," said Drakysis as he slowed his steps having a feeling that a descent was near.

"This is a place meant for death, not imprisoned life, it is a tomb. And he was..." answered the voice of the little girl. "The hearts and minds of our lady's former champions are strong of will and not easy to corrupt being so saturated in the pure light that was the presence of our beloved. But our bodies are just vessels for our souls, when that pure light was extinguished, the sudden change from light to dark was taxing on the bodies of her champions, so our forms were corrupted. And this champion has made the transition from pure light to pure dark and has been battling it for over a century. The form he takes is the product of that battle and it is no longer similar to the one he took long ago." The Drakysis finally felt himself descend down and step on a staircase, but as he did the sides erupted in light as torches along the staircase immediately lit up. "We are almost there," said the young man's voice.

Drakysis descended down the staircase, taking in the tomb that was just pure darkness sunlit his moment. It was a large, wide staircase made of carved stone and the walls of had spaces made for coffins that were all filled. Only a few of the few scores of coffins along the staircase were open and empty. "This battle against the dark has claimed many, this champion had a thousand devout under his command when he fled here, it seems most have fallen." Drakysis looked back and was comforted when he saw the armor possessed by smoke following him. After nearly ten minutes of walking down the stairs the pair came across a doorway with two metal doors in an arch that rose nearly twelve feet. Three scenes were etched into the door, at the top of the first scene was an orb with many rays coming out of it. Below it was a beautiful woman with a dragon standing behind her and many hideous beings that looked like deformed men kneeling at her feet. The next scene showed an orb, but with no rays. The woman lay dead at the feet of the dragon which was chained, but the chains weren't in the shape of links, but as symbols of the Gods. Throughout the scene the hideous creatures that praised the women were being slain by men with devilish features that bore the symbols of the Gods. The final scene had no orb, only a mountain of corpses and figures that were eerily similar to common depictions of the Gods, though their features were twisted and made to look sinister standing atop the pile. "A cryptic image, but it means we are here," said the voice of the brave man. "Prepare yourself, champion. You must stand strong so this fallen being's faith will not be tested. There were ten champions before you, not there is only you. Ten of us failed our lady, this fallen champion must sense with your heart that you are stronger then us all for you are all that remains to represent the legacy of perfection."

"Are you not still a champion of her?" asked Drakysis, who believed the shadow was a champion like himself as that is how the Eternal Council presented the specter.

"No, I...we were champions of her deeds in life, but she is dead, so we our purpose as champions is gone. You are the champion of her memories, and serve her in her absence," said the voice of the old man. The a solemn look fell upon Drakysis's face when he heard that he was alone in his duties. But then the voice of the young man said, "Do not be disheartened Champion of the Perfect Heart, especially in these corrupted halls. If she is ever restored to life or returns to us, then us fallen champions will retake our mantle and your duties will be complete. However, while we are no longer champions of her, we are still bound to her and will serve her beyond death. We will always support you as long as you serve her. But enough of this discussion, we must face this fallen being. I will speak to it, but you must be clear and strong in heart and mind or all will be for naught. Go ahead, open the door, champion." Drakysis put both of his hands on the doors, one on each. And pushed the heavy objects that slowly creaked open...

[Elerian]

Lord-Commandant Theomar Uldryden
Lord Commander’s Tower Hashar Fortress, The Great Desert
503 Al

Theo awoke and coughed. Midway through his cough he choked as the pain of being burned washed over his body. Theo did his best to stop the scream that shortly followed but had little success. Breathless, Theo looked around the room with watery eyes. Through the din he made out one of his guards leaning over something on the ground. Theo let out a croak from his dry throat. Theo waited a few moments for a response but got none. Theo shifted his body and tried again, this time he formed words.

“H-help!” Theo yelped.

As he waited for a response, Theo leaned forward to see what the man was looking at. He gulped when he saw that it was the dragon egg. A rush of relief and fear came over him. It didn’t seem to be damaged but he couldn’t tell which guard this was, and thus, whether he was trustworthy. Theo watched and waited for the man’s reaction.

---

The evening after the incident in the Commander’s tower a group of uninvited guests appeared. The guards had seen their column and had known of their approach for several hours, though only within a half hour before their arrival did they know where they were from. After it was common knowledge that there were Palatinians approaching, the walls and the courtyard began to get crowded with soldiers. Many of whom were natives of Palatine or the coastal city states. Furthermore, while it was a mercenary company with a wide number of ethnicities within its ranks, The White Company was almost a quarter Anotan.

And, while Hashar Fortress was quite isolated from civilization, they still had their own ways of getting information from all over the region. And thus, they had already heard about the barbaric sacking of Ar-Ashalesh and the subsequent invasion of Marshala.

Lieutenant Giso peered over the dry, windswept crenellations of the gatehouse. Giso, while not an Anotan himself, but having many Anotan friends, told one of his men to go and grab a captain, but to be extra slow about it. He was content to let the Palatinians swelter under the unforgiving desert sun, and to hell with the consequences. Several minutes later one of the captains, a pale Northman, materialized and bid them to open the gates after Giso had relayed to him what the Legionaries had said. The captain waved for them to open the gates as he strode down to the gate flanked by a dozen spearmen. Once in the courtyard, the captain yelled for the other soldiers to disperse. Many grumbled but left to go about their duties. The captain turned back to the weary horsemen and waved for them to cross the threshold into the fortress.

[Krugmar]

Dur-Karz
Kalzmere Mountains
High King Izzun I

Izzun talked with the King of Dur-Karz for several hours, they decided upon many issues facing their cities which were mainly trade routes. Eventually their talks came to an end, peace had been settled and treaties signed. Izzun could not help but feel pride, his dream of a united Durognarin Empire was finally being realised one city at a time. As they were leaving for the gates, shoulders almost touching, Izzun said the the King of Dur-Karz "I ask that you rally a large amount of your soldiers and send them with my force, I leave it up to you however many you send and I insist that you keep enough to garrison and secure this fine city". Izzun was mainly interested in Dur-Karz helping to fund his expedition, the soldiers they would give, while helpful, would not be of the quality he would expect.

A small and public ceremony occurred at the gate of Dur-Karz. The King handed Izzun his sceptre, Izzun then held the golden sceptre with a sapphire encrusted in its top up and showed it to his soldiers and the people of Dur-Karz. He then handed the sceptre back to the King of Dur-Karz and said "I accept you as my vassal, I welcome you to the fellowship of Durognarin. Glory to you, glory to your people, glory to us all!". His short speech was met with applause by his soldiers and most of the Dur-Karzian citizens, only the older citizens and the Lords did not join in as heartily.

Izzun returned to the remains of the siege camp, his army had packed up quickly and efficiently and had begun marching already. Izzun and his retinue mounted their small mountain horses and began riding towards his army, the Dur-Karzian troops could catch up within a few days. He had gained victory without spilling blood in Dur-Karz, he now had the gold to finance his expedition and he already had his army. Now was the time to face the greatest warriors among the Durognar, the proud sons of Drogul Zen.

Dur-Vezja Merchant Quarters
Palarin Mountains
Halzmar, Korzikuan, Bezzuli and companions

How long had they been running? He was out of breath and was panting heavily, but he had to carry on. He could just about see Korzikuan running next to him, holding Giles in his arms, behind Korzikuan was Bezzuli and the orcasi. Something had attacked Giles and he had injured it leaving a strange pool of blood oozing near the camp. They had heard screaming, shouting, inhuman roars around the city. They had seen torches flare up on higher levels only to be extinguished a few moments later. The only thing they had seen was tall and white creatures, faintly showing when the torches appeared. Halzmar knew that this expedition had been a mistake, there was a reason no-one had entered this city.

They were running up, towards the Palace where they had heard no screams. The screaming and shouting was growing louder from the depths below. Halzmar made the mistake of looking back to their campsite and was shocked to see the torches lit, a strange creature hunched over fiddling with his tent. It suddenly jerked its head, then turned around in a snap. It had no smile on its misshapen face, though Halzmar could not make it out very clearly. Then the torch snuffed out and he could see no more.

Eventually they reached the Palace, Korzikuan pushed open the rotting and broken doors and they piled in. Burguk and Korzikuan began barricading the door while Bezzuli began tending to Giles wound. Halzmar simply sat down and began sobbing quietly, he said "Father, help me, please" to himself. He simply did not know what to do.

[Damak Var]

Hashar

Prefect Khadorius sipped on his wine skin while waiting for the White Company behind to open the gate. He wondered if there were any Arcani behind those walls. The Order was very secretive about their operations which the Prefect disdained. They had autonomy from the military and only presented themselves when they chose to assist. If Praetor Aetius was given greater command of them, this war may go a bit faster. Khadorius noticed that it took some time for the inhabitants within to open the gate for them. The White Company should no better than to keep representatives of the Paletinian Republic waiting. If Hashar's locations were not so worthless being in the middle of the desert, perhaps the Republic Army would be marching on them next. Alas, it was not to be but the Prefect would enjoy showing these people who their betters were. This was a dwelling place for uncultured savages and it was the Republic's duty to bring them into the light. Drag them if need be.

He gave the signal for them to enter which they did at a trot. The fortress's architecture was impressive. Once in front of the Captain, the Prefect dismounted from his horse and raised a hand in greeting.

"Greetings. I have been sent with powers to conduct negotiations on behalf of the Republic Army. We seek to contract the White Company for its services in helping us wage war against the Republic's enemies North of our territory. May Lord Uldryden grant me audience?" Khadorius said to the point but politely.

[New Armarzia]

"Do not fear, there is no need for it here. And cry no longer for you have found your home, here with me. Until the day one of us falls you can take comfort in knowing we will always be here for each other. The light in your heart has suffered much, but be glad as your light has defeated all it has faced to this day so surely nothing can extinguish it."
-The Fallen Champion of Zeal to his men in The Vault of Bound Passion
or
-The Lady of Perfection to The Champion of Zeal when they first met

The Vault of Bound Passion
Kalzmere Mountains
Northern Wasteland

Drakysis looked into the room he had just revealed, there was no light within, but he could tell that it was a fairly large and open room. Drakysis pulled a torch off the wall of the staircase and proceeded deeper into the old tomb. As he walked for a minute he saw nothing, but the stone floor of the tomb. However, before he entered the room he heard monstrous sounds, but now there was only the echoes of his own footsteps as he walked. As he took more steps he started hearing sounds of movement off to his right and left, but Drakysis trusted the shadow and journeyed on.

Suddenly, the silence was broken as something large slithered across the floor and stopped before Drakysis. It remained outside of the light of the minotaur's torch only seeing the giant shadow of something before him and extending beyond Drakysis's view. A snake-like head, though it was as tall as Drakysis moved forward into the light so Drakysis could see. He looked down from he head to see that the long neck met with four other necks that led to four other heads remaining outside of the light. The shadow that accompanied Drakysis moved in front of Drakysis and spoke int he voice of the old man, "We have come to ensure you have not deserted our fair lady, her servants still work, so your oath still stands."

The head hissed at the two as the long body of the beast tightened and soon the serpentine body was in the light of the torch completely circling the pair. "You have hid away in pity for long enough, it is time you gather your followers and serve the memory of perfection," continued the voice of the old man. "The Eternal Council is intact and has delivered a new champion in the midst of our loss." The four other heads came into view all hissing as the body tightened causing only a radius of five feet to be between Drakysis and the body.

"A new army has formed and more flock to our beloved's cause then before. Do not abandon the world to hide in the dark, take strength in the light of our lady's message and help spread as we exact revenge on those who cause this. Do not let the existence of our lady be for nothing, if we do not continue her work then how can we consider ourselves to be better then the ones we fought long ago. There are still more of us captured by the servants of the cruel, I need your help if they are to be free. They have been imprisoned for a century, do not let them suffer at the hands of the cruel any longer, you owe them...you owe her that at least." The head retracted into the darkness and the body uncoiled as the great beast slithered into the darkness.

"Your heart is strong champion," whispered the voice of the young man. "Return to your guard and prepare the council of war. We may now have the strength to free the rest of the fallen, but we must act before our enemies learn of what transpired here today."

[Imperialisium]

Hashar Fortress
Lord Commanders Tower

Suleyk watched the egg, observed that something moved inside of it, and drew his curved dagger. The dagger was an exquisite piece, a khukri it was called by the tribes of the Savannah, a tribe he forgot the name of it. It was straight at the hilt, then bowed forward along a single edge before meeting at a sharp point, and then arcing back to the hilt smoothly. It was designed for slashing in mind, and he'd slit a mans throat like taunt paper with ease due to the curvature of the blade. A single swipe would kill whatever was in this egg should it be dangerous.

A crack sounded, and a visible split along one side of the thick egg could be seen. It spider webbed out from there as something forced its head through, then a tiny clawed limb, two wet folded leathery wings, and finally it wormed its way out. A four legged, winged, tailed, serpentine creature with an unusual cranial structure. It writhed in birthing with a screech unlike any animal Suleyk had ever heard, but he knew the legends, and thus he nearly dropped the dagger when the Dragon was born in front of him.

A dragon was a rare thing, and although there was quite a few named dragons of legend, all of those have either gone to hiding, vanished, been presumably killed, or possibly died of old age. Aye, he knew what was before him. Its scales glinted with moisture, and his warrior instinct knew that those scales were not yet fully developed. He could easily slice through them like cake, and that would be the end of it.

Wait...

Think of the money! This shot through Suleyks mind like an arrow to the skull. He could buy an entire palace with this dragon and then have some left over! But now was not the time, as the other men came to their wits and the fires where smothered.

"Everyone out! Take the Commander to the infirmary to dress his wounds!" said Suleyk and the men hurried to carry out the order. A pair of men moved to their commander as if to lift him up and bore him away to the healers.

"Aye. I know what you are. A Child of Fire, like the legends. Balerion the Black, whose shadow smothered the light of the Sun from entire villages, and whose breath melted stone. Valerion the Golden, his hatchling twin, whose golden scales dazzled in the Sun like the rays of Vaemidia. Ever the kindest of the Dragons. I could go on strange creature...do you understand me?"

Suleyk leaned forward to look closer at the dragon, and smiled with a smirk, "Of course you don't."

A Dwarven War

Drogul-Zen and the other Dwarven cities had not been idle at the news of Dur-Karz being put under the yoke of Durognarin. Dur-Targen had pledged aid to Drogul-Zen and vice versa, even now an army of 6,000 Dwarves, and dozens of golems marched to Drogul-Zen. The Messengers from Dur-Karz had confirmed their fears, as it was quite plain they all spied on one another anyways.

Dur-Targen knew that the fastest and safest route was to cross from the Kalzmere to the Ring Mountains along the Lesser Palendar. On the fringes of Oguin tribal territory. High King Izzun would undoubtedly want his army fresh and unbloodied when they reached Drogul-Zen. Or the Ring Mountains if they where challenged in advance. In addition Dur-Fulgrun had stated they would aid the other Dwarven cities, but did not state in what capacity they would participate. Being farthest away from Durognarin, Dur-Fulgrun could not be easily assailed for any long period of time without a great logistical supply train that would have to cross through wilderness and the borders of the Shadowlands.

The other Dwarven cities knew this, and they planned to use every advantage to leverage Izzun away from this potentially lengthy, bloody, and possibly ruining kin-strife.

[The Abel Imaginarium]

Sun's Wood
A Chance Meeting, Of an Elvenking

Sir Gregorian, tall and strong, clad in armor of polished steel and bearing the colors of sacred Vaemidia. Stopped at a respectful distance from Arduil and bowed on his horse. Taluria came up beside him, Gregorian could feel her radiance, and she too declined her fair head in respect. Gregorian knew some Adaenari, it was a beautifully complex language, but he best not try it himself with this regal company just yet. Lest he make an accidental infraction. So he motioned to Taluria and she translated back to Gregorian in Rythfaen, the language of Saerheastan Men.

"Tell him I am Sir Gregorian, of Vaemidia's Palaedic Order; Tell our regal guest, that the Fortress shall be preparing for his arrival, and that if he requires any assistance...as a servant of Vaemidia I will do what I can."

He smiled as Taluria said the words, her sing song voice like the elegant chirping of the birds, innocent and vibrant. Taluria, unlike Gregorian, had full access to her fathers private library in Raemaris, and thus by judging the heraldry of the Elves before her she could have a guess as to whom they where. The devices they carried betrayed their origins in a graceful manner.

So she added, "and I am Taluria of House Tamerian, Daughter of Azuryan, and Handmaiden to Queen Irithren Terembor. A pleasure to meet you Your Majesty."

Ardruil Illuvien

Intermission at a Midsummer's Pilgrimage - Sun's Wood

The Elvenking was alittle taken aback at this unexpected recognition of his rank and stature. Especially since he had thought himself well-disguised and hidden from all manner of royalty. Clutching the hem of his red cloak, he pulled it off and flung it away revealing the glorious shimmering attire he wore under it. His beautiful yet terrible and glorious appearance made him look like a god in the eyes of all who beheld him. Calmly, Ardruil said to the high elven maiden in the common tongue, "Indeed.....I've quite forgotten that our High Elven brethren had been gifted with the same keen intuitive perception as us. Forgive my belittling performance."

To the both of them he replied, "Your proper manners & courtesy towards one of the House Illuvien has been duly noted. So let me introduce myself likewise.........I am Ardruil Illuvien. XII Ruler of the Great Empire of Nargathror and the 6th High Father of The Woodland Realm. I am he whom they name Morning Flame for in a time of discord and despair I arose like the dawn and led my people into the light of peace, prosperity & greatness. I have found favour in the both of you, especially you Daughter of Azuryan. As a reward for your simple act of hospitality & politeness, you shall both ride with me as part of the royal retinue of this pilgrimage."

Reigning his horse around, the Elvenking continued as he trotted back to join the Queen Mother and the others who were still singing their hymns. "Come now the both of you and don't mind my soldiers. They have a very bad habit of disconcerting those who are not of The Wood Elven race. Taluria of House Tamerian......tell me about the recent affairs of your homeland and of your people. How is the Queen faring these days?"

[Razzgriz]

Great Savannah
503 AL
John Razgriz

The sky had began to blacken as John began setting up the last pieces of his camp. His eyes were vigilant, as he periodically scanned for predators on the horizon. He wasted not time taking off his bag and ripping a piece of cloth off his extra clothes and tossed it into the pit he had just made. It wasn't long before he began to hear movement headed towards his position and he know all to well who was headed for him. As he gazed upward he could see the first star had appeared signalling that it was almost time prompting him to quickly jump up and get into a firm stance , take a deep breath and get focused.

"Burn" he said lighting the cloth ablaze, watching it as the fire began to grow as it consumed the cloth and the logs he had tossed in with it.

However the fire alone wasn't enough to dissuade his pursuers as their movements became more and more rapid. First advancing toward him then backing away, repeating the pattern over and over again as if it were a dance. The sounds the crickets made which provided him comfort began to die down and as the fire began to burn brighter he began to see their eyes piercing through the night as if they were demons locked on their prey. John drew his sword slowly and placed it beside him as he ripped more pieces of cloth from his extra clothes and molded them into a ball. His heart began to race as the predators moved closer and closer until....Silence.

John halted his actions and gazed up only to see nothing until he looked behind him. A pair of those monstrous eyes stared at him as if they were trying to peer into his soul and steal it from his body, watching every movement John made. Their eyes were locked on one another as johns heart began to suddenly slow and with time along with it. With the silence John began to hear his own heartbeat as he kept his eyes locked on his enemy, slowly motioning his hand to grab his sword. Until... he merely took his eyes off his enemy for a second to make sure his cloth balls were near. The Saber toothed cat leaped out from the darkness prompting John to duck and swing his sword at its belly as it hopped over him. He tried to take a glance to make sure it was dead but yet another came leaping from the darkness. John jumped to his right barely dodging the cat's powerful claws only to turn around and have another leap on him. John struggled to keep its claws and teeth away from his face as he reached for his sword. inch by inch his hand grew closer until he could grab it again and stab it through the cat's head. He wasted no time pushing the dead weigh off him and swing his sword to cut down the cat that had missed him earlier, staining his mask with streaks of blood as i hung from a tree branch. John was given no time to rest as pack's assault picked up no full swing. One by one he slowly cut them down as he made his way back to the camp fire to retrieve his cloth balls. When he finally made it to the fire he quickly grabbed one and threw it into the darkness. And with a small stream of blood leaking from his head, he focused until the ball was set ablaze scattering his attackers as it landed. He helplessly repeated the process until he heard a roar and the cats began to flee. All seemed calm as to John despite the Pockets of fire an corpses that surrounded him. He barely even got time to fully stand before yet another cat leaped towards him. Caught in surprise John swung his sword once again cutting its throat and while still in a frenzy he lifted his sword high above his head and came down as if his arm was a guillotine splitting the cats head in two causing blood to splatter all over him.

Gasping, tired, and with one eye closed John dropped to his knees as the rest of the pack fled into the night. He continued to stay alert trying to predict where the next attack might come from until the comforting sounds of the crickets returned and he seethed his sword. " So its finally over." he said to himself as he took a deep breath and wiped the blood from his face as he stood up. He then began to drag the corpses away from the camp as he didn't want to be bothered with the crows and vultures who would be their in the morning, saving the biggest one to be skinned and salvaged. Once done he made his way to Esra's makeshift fence, which were just pikes put into a circle, to make sure Esra was safe, and after scanning the area one more time he changed clothes and made his way to his tent to finally get some sleep.

[Elerian]

Lord-Commandant Theomar Uldryden
Lord Commander’s Tower Hashar Fortress, The Great Desert
503 Al

Theomar had taken an apartment in another tower while his men labored at repairing his burnt out tower. While the fire hadn't touched much besides his study and the accompanying rooms, the raw heat of the flames had damaged some of the structure and melted some of the stone that held it together. In addition, because of the injuries that Theo sustained, he was in no position to entertain guests of any sort. And thus, that duty fell on the shoulders of the Lieutenant Commander, a stout, middle aged, Volyorian man of unquestionable loyalty to Theomar. Though, he didn’t have quite the morals of Theo, he made an effort to be chivalrous.

Captain Alessio took a few moments to study the prefect as he dismounted his horse and presented himself to the captain. While the troop had undoubtedly been riding for weeks to reach The White Company, they were all dressed immaculately. Their polished armor shone brightly in the beating sun, each strap, belt, and fastening was pulled snuggly in its rightful place, and hardly any folds could be seen in their clothing. It was as if they had been drilled endlessly on not only fighting, but also making their attire as impressive as possible. While Alessio respected the Palatinians for their notoriously strict discipline, he cared nothing for their people. The captain had only been graced by their presence for a matter of moments, but Alessio could already tell by the distasteful curl of the prefect’s lip, that he deemed them all nothing more than upstart savages.

And yet, Alessio gave a warm smile and a nod as the man dismounted, though his eyes held nothing but animosity. This man was a killer. And, while he felt nothing but enmity towards the pompous Palatinian. He respected the man, because Alessio knew that while they’d never met, nor had were they much alike. They shared one common aspect of their life. They had both witnessed the horrors of war, and they had both fought and sacrificed for something they believed in. Alessio listened to as the man dryly asked for the Commander.

“That will be difficult” Alessio responded.

Alessio motioned for his men to assist the other Palatinians and for the Prefect to follow him as he began walking towards the forward keep.
“The problem is,” Alessio pointed in the general direction of the black smoke “that the Commander is indisposed at the moment. An arsonist set the Commander’s tower alight last night and he is currently looking for those responsible, as well as working on repairing his apartments.”

Alessio gave the Prefect a less than convincing smile. Alessio stopped at the studded oaken doors to the forward keep’s hall. Opening the door, Alessio held out his hand, insisting that the Prefect go inside. “The Lieutenant Commander will be inside. I should hope this isn’t too much of an inconvenience,”

---

Theo awoke sweating. He nearly screamed at the searing pain running from his body to his torso. Had it been worth this? Theo thought as he looked at his bandaged arms. Beneath the stark white bandages he could see raw pink flesh and blood seeping into the cool fabric. Theo looked around the room and recognized his Lieutenant Commander’s apartments, though he saw no egg. Theo began to move and regretted it as pain shot through his body. Theo yelled for someone, anyone. Moments later a guard walked inside, his white surcoat emblazoned with the White Company sigil.

“Find me the night watch officer. Now.”

[New Armarzia]

Drakysis's Council
Grounds of Dol Guldaer
Northern Wastes

A couple dozen minotaurs along with a few beings that had the appearances of humans whispered amongst each other and sat on two long tables perpendicular to the entrance of the hall and running perpendicular to a long pit of fire in-between the tables. Past the ends of the tables opposite of the entrance the room was slightly elevated for the last twelve feet where four minotaurs along with the shadow known as The Memories of the Fallen all stood around a table with a map depicting the Northern Wastes and a bit of the area West of it. A number of small wooden figurines shaped like different kinds of warrior were spread throughout the map, though most of them, specifically the ones with horns like bulls, seemed to be concentrated along the Palendar River.

Drakysis was among the four minotaurs and said to the others who were all chiefs of the more powerful tribes that willingly joined Drakysis's confederation, "The hour of attack is nearing. The Memories of the Fallen has helped us secure another ally for our cause, our strength and the time to assault the hold of the cruel is near. Would such an attack be plausible given our strength?"

One of the other three chiefs responded, "Given the information we know, our current standing force would definitely have the upper hand and if we armed all the duty-bound soldiers of our army we would certainly be able to crush that fort. However, we don't actually know much about the fort, our scouts can't walk up to it. The only ones that can even get any details are the changelings that serve your shadow. But they can only view from the skies. My main concern is that the fort is built into the side of a mountain, there is no way to tell if there is a system of tunnels that may hide numerous men within. It is quite impossible to tell the true strength of that fort without attacking it first or essentially announcing that we are an organized force."

One of the remaining chiefs chimed in, "Would it be safe if we showed that we are an organized force now? We have the numbers to beat them in any kind of battle, a show of arms may cause them to simply retreat from their hold if they realize they have no chance."

The last of the minotaurs who was the captain of Drakysis's honor guard and also the chief of the largest clan to willingly join Drakysis responded, "It would be unwise to show our strength. No one besides ourselves scout the wastes so those knights probably believe we are stilling nothing, but small raiding tribes. We have no information on their strength in the West and if they allies there. When Drakysis stormed The Vault of Bound Passion less then half a dozen of those cruel knights stood guard, yet they did not show any sign of fear in that fight even though our strength was greater then theirs. Showing that we are a powerful, united force would merely give them time to prepare and call upon any allies in the West as they would not retreat. If we are to attack it must be immediate and all preparations must be made far from the eyes of that fort."

The familiar voice of the old man whispered in everyone's ears, "Even with the strength of our forces, we are still leaving out a crucial part. If that fort holds out for a significant amount of time, their allies and their own knights may be able to make a counter attack through a passage within the northern mountain range. My scouts have found a number of paths leading over and a few entrances leading through. It would be in our best interests to close these passages before any attack is made. Furthermore, my scouts have reported sightings of smaller settlements within the mountains of a smaller folk. If convinced they may be a potential ally and if not it may be in our best interests to exterminate them before we attack and leave our own lands open."

Drakysis looked at the map for a moment and grabbed three figurines; a minotaur, a wolf, and a snake; that were along the river and moved it to the mountains and then grabbed a few more pieces that were minotaurs off to the side of the map and placed them along the river. He looked up to the other chiefs and said, "I along with The Memories of The Fallen and his new ally will have our own men begin searching these mountain passages and will see to it that they are unusable." Drakysis looked to the captain of his personal guard and said, "Have your scouts focus on these settlements in the mountains, see what they are to us and then act accordingly." He turned his attention to the last two minotaurs and said, "Once these passages are closed and these new people dealt with, we will make an immediate attack on that fortress. Begin mustering additional forces and see to it that they are prepared to march on the river..."

Abandoned City
Northernmost Kalzmere Mountains
Northern Wastes

"This...passage was of particular interest when my scouts found it," whispered the voice of the young man as Drakysis walked along a stone bridge within the mountain followed by two beings in silver armor and a dozen minotaurs. "After further investigation my scouts found that this passage was in fact an abandoned city." Drakysis took in the sight of the city as he traversed across the bridge that led to what appeared to be a temple. The mountain they were in appeared to be hollow with a giant city within it. "The interesting part of this city is that there is no sign on conflict and nearly everything has been picked clean. It is as if everyone picked up everything they had and just left." The party got to the end of the bridge and entered the temple which supported the shadow's statement. The large building that appeared to be a temple was empty save for a stone pedestal built into the foundation at the far end of the room where a black, glass orb sat atop it. Two humans stood flanking the orb, motionless with a chest sitting behind one.

Drakysis approached the orb as his troop of minotaurs took up positions in the temple to watch the outside and generally have the whole space covered. As he neared the orb the young man's voice whispered into his ear, "Do not touch it, everything in this city has been picked clean except for that. And I lied when I said there were no signs of fighting, there were a few bodies found around that orb, but no where else in the city. Do not risk your own life to find out what it is, others are willing." When the shadow finished the two armored humanoids following them whose bodies and faces were completely covered by their armor approached the orb. One through a piece of fabric over the orb that covered it while the other armored being opened the chest that was padded on the inside. The first one proceeded to pick up the orb and place it in the chest while the second one closed it. The two humans standing still then proceeded to pick up the chest and started walking away with it out the temple. The voice of the old man spoke, "Come, gather your men, there is one more thing I would like to show you."

"Honor guard, to me!" roared Drakysis as he followed the shadow who moved past the pedestal to a strikes hidden away in the back. The shadow descended as did Drakysis, his guard, and the two armored beings. "So where is your friend?" asked Drakysis as they group descended down the staircase.

"He is on the other side of the city. A passage leading West was found and he seeks to find the easiest way to close it." The group reached the bottom which led to a hall where torches were along the wall and lit. At the end of the hall was a gate made of solid metal that could be raised by pulling chains that hung down it. "Being near that gate make me uneasy, something is within that must be conquered."

"Is not another passage?" asked Drakysis assuming that the gate was like any castle gate meant to keep people out.

"No, in this direction is just more of the city and there is no passage on that side. A chamber is behind that gate and something is or was trapped in that chamber intentionally," said the older voice. "You will have to leave some of your guard behind to open and close the gate as it can't remain open and I suspect there will be no way to open it from the other side." Drakysis pointed to four of his minotaurs who proceeded to grab the chains, two on each, and slowly pulled the gate open. The room inside was circular with a radius of about twenty feet. The walls were littered with torches that were somehow lit, but the center of the room was unnaturally dark. In the center a pedestal like that which held the glass orb above, but a black stone with some kind of design sat upon the pedestal and shadows seemed to spring forth from. Drakysis walked towards the shadow until the voice of the young man whispered, "No, let them. That is why they are here."

The two armored beings walked past the champion into the unnatural shadows of the stone. As they approached the pedestal one of the two reached out and touched it as Drakysis, the specter, and the eight other minotaurs in the room watched from the lit outer edge of the room...

[Imperialisium]

Intermission Midsummer's Pilgrimage- Sun's Wood

Sir Gregorian nodded and looked at Taluria, looks like she would be returning to Raemaris at a later date. Gregorian wheeled his mighty warhorse around and pulled up within the retinue of the Elvenking. Taluria put herself next to Ardruil so she may answer him without need of raising her voice.

"The Queen has done well, long has our realm prospered bountifully in harvest and wealth, and the High Elves have prospered your grace in recent years, however my father seems to grow weaker from his old wounds. Otherwise our lands seem to be in peaceful slumber, long has it been that grave danger has assailed us, but I fear that may change. In my recent travels to the Fortress I have seen strange...portents. A cold wind from the North is rising it seems, and I fear it may not be the winds of Winter."

Taluria had lost herself in thought, remembering the surreal visions that assailed her dreams of late. She had not told her dreams to anyone before, but she knew that having the same dream of cities burning, a stag shot by many black arrows, and fire spreading across green fields must mean something. Yet, she was no fool. The Histories of Eonwaris taught that dreams are...highly interpretive.

She looked up at Ardruil and all his earthly glory, his visage grasped her like the most gentle of gauntlets, and she felt secure in the presence of the Wood Elves. So she hazarded a question to the Elvenking.

"How...How goes your realm Your Grace. Nargothror has always proven to be a land of mystery to me, only my brother Valuryan and my Father on their ranging have ever pierced the veil of the Great Forest. Though, he seldom tells me anything."

Hashar Fortress

Suleyk walked towards his Commander, having been summoned, and he made himself presentable to Theomar. "Lord Commander Uldryden, Head Watchman Suleyk Al-Hashim as summoned Sir." He stood stock straight, helmet grasped in hand, and palm on the hilt of his scimitar. By the sound of the soldier that had summoned him it seemed the Lord Commander's tone was urgent. Perhaps he was going to ask about the Dragon. Yes, that undoubtedly was the linchpin of this summons. However, Lord Uldryden would be pleased to note that the Dragon was currently in a steel cage feasting on some pheasant. That idea was Suleyks, as he had no idea of what to do with the Dragon or what purposed it could pose for the White Company.

Abandoned City
The Shadows Live

The Stone upon being touched seemed to fade in malice, the purplish light etching strange designs faded into nothing. A sudden howl down the corridor erupted forth, like something was rocketing towards the party of intruders. It ripped into the room and died down faster than a flash of lightning. Silence.

Whispers, whispers in the dark began to be heard in tongues totally indecipherable to Darkysis and the party. Black wisps sprung from the stone and a black fog began to spread from the stone. Like the Void had entered this very room. The purplish etchings returned in blazing glory and a voice only Darkysis could hear burst into his psyche. So strong was its will that it seemed like the steel clad gauntlets of fate had grasped about his shoulders.

The two armored beings disintegrated, as if gripped by some unnatural force, and their disintegrating remains where drawn into the stone by some inconceivable means. Everything was wrong, the stone was wrong, and the malice from within was so perceptible. Yet, now to Darkysis and everyone in the room this sense of danger was replace by something else. Love, and want for the stone. It was like something was rearranging their subconscious desires on a whim? Was it? What was going on?

The truth was...they had awakened something that should have been left there alone for eternity.

Bayren

"Well Your Highness...who knew you'd be soo' gu'd at beddin' a lad-ey." The brunette laying on her back in the bed was nude, and the Prince was standing. Re-fastening his belt and shirt. Sure he had duties, but what was the fun in being a Prince if you couldn't have any fun? He turned to the whore in the bed, "A Prince has to master many arts."

At this the whore laughed and she sniggered. The Prince placed the coins in payment on the dresser as he smiled, bowed, and left. The Master of the Brothel, a small man by the name of Wilthelm Nugelburg, stopped the handsome Prince.

"Was everything satisfactory my lord?"

"Yes, yes it was. Um...She was quite enthusiastic. I left the payment on the dresser." replied Aalen.

Wilthelm opened the small ledger and spoke," Yes, Clara, from Windfall, quite the playful little sprite. Thank You for your patronage my lord."

"I imagine you paid a good price to ship her lovely pale ass up here?" said the Prince with a chuckle.

"47 Marks and a Guilden to be exact. But she has been quite profitable." stated Wilthelm as he read from another section of the Ledger. Which, he promptly snapped closed.

"Well I must be on my way." said the Prince as they both smiled and parted ways. The Prince walked along the street, hood up so commoners wouldn't see him that well, and only revealed his face to the guards at the gate. Walking onto the grounds of Bayren Manor, the small Keep, his eyes widened and the three elves kneeling on the ground surrounded by soldiers of the Royal Army.

"What is going on?" said the Prince and a cavalry trooper responded with a bow, "My Lord, we found these three Elves near the slain corpse of a merchant. We believe them to be murdering outlaws. But one claims to be the Son of an Elf Noble. Say's his name be Val-ur-yan, Son of Azur-yan." Elvish names where foreign to the cavalryman, and so he needed to sound them out openly to make sure they where correct as possible.

The Prince lowered his head in thought, trying to remember names, and walked up to the elves. Circling them, and saw they wore no heraldry discernible to him. He knelt down next to the Elf that the trooper pointed out to be the leader.

"So...You claim to the lord of the Elves across the water. Yet, I see no heraldry I know of upon you. So speak or accept the chopping block for your fate."

At this Valuryan lifted his head to the Man, and his reply came swift, "Look at my hand. You will see a white gold ring with the heraldry of a phoenix wrapped in flames. Symbol of House Tamerian. On my companions you will find them wearing similar rings of steel. Symbols of devout loyalty to my House. I ask you release us and we will make our way across Lake Ramiene back to our own people."

"What of the murder?" said the Prince.

"The merchant was a Werewolf, simply in the guise of a merchant I believe. We gave chase for several days. Unfortunately we only managed to catch up to him while within your lands."

The vindication in the Elf's voice was evident, if he was lying then it was a damn good lie. The Prince looked at the Elves hands and just like that he could see the symbols on the rings. His memory was good, and he remembered seeing such a symbol in the Book of Heraldry in the section of known Elven nobility. The Prince stood up, "I will send word to Raemaris of your situation. Until then you are my guests. Release them." said Aalen.

The troopers immediately untied the bonds and let the Elves stand. But they warily watched them as they followed the Prince into the Manor-Keep.

[Rudaslavia]

Slave Market
Paletinian Ar-Ashalesh

He'd found what he was looking for. The Faeran overlord, masked as a common human noble, purchased two High Elves for coin. They were perfection. They were exactly what he required. The heavens were looking down upon the Sorcalin "crusader." At least, that was what he thought.

Two High Elven slaves -- a handsome and robust man alongside a beautiful, young, and submissive female. They were chained at wrist and ankle, forced into a military cage of iron that was set upon a coach purchased in the settlement's outskirts. Hitching his steed to the vehicle, Othralas set off with his property. His pain was nearing unbearable heights. The Faeran's shattered skeleton within was throbbing. He could hardly take it...and the journey homeward was so damn long!

But his will could not be broken. He was a monster.

Snapping the reins, the Fire Elf in disguise drove northward towards his mountainous domain.

[Krugmar]

Army Encampment
Kalzmere Mountains
High King Izzun I

Izzun was unsure about what his next move should be, he grabbed his pint of mead and began to drink heavily. Ser Nettraz was sat by his side, his newly appointed champion and personal bodyguard. Lords Galyun and Ekenzav sat opposite him, reading parchments and attempting to help him. They were in a tricky situation, Izzun's agents in Fulgrun and Targen had told him they were announcing support for Drogul-Zen. Great care would have to be taken in order for the war to be won. The Zennar had to be defeated, if they were allowed to take control of the Fulgunnar and Targennar armies they would be unstoppable. Dur-Targen was close enough to reinforce Drogul-Zen and catch his besieging army by surprise, a defeat was possible and that was unacceptable.

"We could head for Dur-Fulgrun, but this presents a large amount of problems, tactically it would be useless" said Lord Ekenzav.

"I agree with Lord Ekenzav, Dur-Fulgrun is unneeded at this time. Drogul-Zen is our true problem but we cannot take it by besieging it. Not only would it take years at best, the damned Targennar would surround us and possibly butcher us" said Lord Galyun.

"I'm not sure I like this talk of sieges your majesty, we are true warriors and we do not simply starve out our kin" added Ser Nettraz.

"I agree with you all, a siege of Drogul-Zen is a waste in every way but we cannot deal with the other cities until the Zennar are crushed or dead" answered Izzun, this truly was proving to be a puzzling question.

"The Zennar are honourable warriors, but they will not risk an open fight that they would likely lose" said Lord Galyun.

"What if we draw them out? They will not remain in their citadel in the face of insults and the prospect of losing that honour" replied Ser Nettraz.

"They are not fools, honour means little to the dead and they know that. Though perhaps they would not back down from a personal challenge" said Lord Ekenzav.

Galyun shifted in his seat slightly and said "What kind of personal challenge?".

"Our champion against theirs for the fate of their Kingdom" replied Lord Ekenzav.

Ser Nettraz let out a great laugh, then said "They would never uphold a promise like that even if our champion did win".

"We don't need them to, perhaps we can send them into a fury if we kill their champion and mock them with it. It may boost our soldiers morale and weaken theirs" replied Lord Ekenzav.

"Even so, who would willingly fight against a Zennar warrior? I exclude you from that of course Ser Nettraz, we all know of your wish to die in battle" said Lord Galyun, making them all chuckle.

Izzun however did not chuckle, he was giving the matter some serious thought. He eventually said "I will be this champion, I shall face their King and cut him down in front of them". His advisors looked at him in a mixture of awe, horror and a sense that it was a joke. Izzun however, was completely serious.

"Are you sure your Majesty? I do not doubt your fighting abilities at all, but these Zennar live and breathe battle" asked Lord Ekenzav.

"I am sure, I was trained my entire life to be a soldier, my skills have not diminished in my old age. Should I fail I have a good son to replace me and my council to guide him. Though, I shall not fail" replied Izzun. He motioned to Lord Ekenzav and continued "Draft up the letter to their King, do not hold back. Taunt, mock and force him into action".

Lord Ekenzav wrote the letter in a great hurry, laughing and sharing some of the insults he was adding with the others. Soon the letter was finished and was sent off with a messenger to Drogul-Zen.

To the most despicable, horribel and outrageous "King" of Drogul-Zen

You hafe decided to remayn a coward. You cowre behind yorr walls rafer than face us honourably. However, our most gracius monarch, his Majestie the High King of all Durognar has invited you to face him in singel combat. He prays for your healf, for he would not wish diseas to kill you befor he can. Reply in a way suitable for a Durognar warrior and King, not fur a cowardly Zennar. We expecte your answere soon.

signed, Lord Ekenzav of Durognarin

Izzun took another swig of his drink. He could feel his age creeping up, but he had practiced almost daily and felt confident in his skills with hammer and axe. He would win this fight, win back his Kingdom and become Lord of all the Mountains. It was his destiny. No Zennar would take that away from him.

[The Abel Imaginarium]

Intermission Midsummer's Pilgrimage- Sun's Wood

Sir Gregorian nodded and looked at Taluria, looks like she would be returning to Raemaris at a later date. Gregorian wheeled his mighty warhorse around and pulled up within the retinue of the Elvenking. Taluria put herself next to Ardruil so she may answer him without need of raising her voice.

"The Queen has done well, long has our realm prospered bountifully in harvest and wealth, and the High Elves have prospered your grace in recent years, however my father seems to grow weaker from his old wounds. Otherwise our lands seem to be in peaceful slumber, long has it been that grave danger has assailed us, but I fear that may change. In my recent travels to the Fortress I have seen strange...portents. A cold wind from the North is rising it seems, and I fear it may not be the winds of Winter."

Taluria had lost herself in thought, remembering the surreal visions that assailed her dreams of late. She had not told her dreams to anyone before, but she knew that having the same dream of cities burning, a stag shot by many black arrows, and fire spreading across green fields must mean something. Yet, she was no fool. The Histories of Eonwaris taught that dreams are...highly interpretive.

She looked up at Ardruil and all his earthly glory, his visage grasped her like the most gentle of gauntlets, and she felt secure in the presence of the Wood Elves. So she hazarded a question to the Elvenking.

"How...How goes your realm Your Grace. Nargothror has always proven to be a land of mystery to me, only my brother Valuryan and my Father on their ranging have ever pierced the veil of the Great Forest. Though, he seldom tells me anything."

Ardruil Illuvien

The Journey Continues....

503 AL - Sun's Wood

The pilgrimage slowly turned around a corner to reveal that it was approaching the edge of the Sun's Wood forest. Meanwhile, the Elvenking listened politely to all that was being said and gave comment when the need arose.

"Very good. I'm pleased that our kindred in the upper north are doing well for themselves. My sympathies to your father however. Old age can be looked upon as a blessing or a curse to those who have them, especially among the Adaenari with our longer-lasting span of life. But pray tell me more about this cold wind from the North you've mentioned? If it is not the frigid touch of Winter than what is it?.....your expressions tell me that it is far more worse than the Frost Queen's welcome."

When hesitantly inquired about his realm, Ardruil smiled softly to her and replied. "A land of mystery is Nargathror and one that has intrigued the likes of outsider kings, queens, adventurers to even the scum of the earth like orc raiders & thieves. But remain hidden it must for secrecy is our greatest strength and the less the outside world knows about the Wood Elves of the Great Forest, the more they fear us and wonder at what kind of monstrous powers we keep within our obscured nation. To answer your question though, my people are contented and happy for now. After hundreds of years of unrest they have finally been granted the peace that they have desired and of course deserved. However.......I feel that this will not be for long and so I must request for an audience with your Queen as soon as possible."

With that, the Elvenking refrained from saying anything more and rode silently and in deep thought for the remainder of the ride.

[Bentus]

Keiana - Midsummer's Pilgrimage

---

From the moment that she had set off from the World Forest, time had seemed to race by for Keiana. Whilst the realm of the Wood Elves was not too different from their client state living beneath the Verdani, every town and every sound seemed to be intoxicatingly new to the young Green Priest. She had been humoured by the merchants who were being paid to escort her to the pilgrimage, although the weight of coin in their purses was likely at least in part responsible. Even if the Wood Elves were common visitors to Omashu and ensured that she’d heard so many tales from Vaemidia of her homeland that she may as well have lived there. Regardless, none of this was enough to dampen Keiana’s enthusiasm. By the time they’d arrived at the departure point for the pilgrimage itself, her excitement had only grown. Looking out from the thickly packed trees and dense shrubbery of the Great Forest onto rolling hills and plains in the distance, Keiana felt distant lands beckoning to her – she’d waited her whole life to explore the continent, and now with the chance before her, she was relishing each single step.

Of course, that was before she’d even discovered that they would be accompanied by the greatest of honours. As the pilgrimage ventured beyond the Hidden Empire’s borders, Keiana felt herself gradually become accepted by her Nargathorian neighbours and even managed to join in with some of the traditional songs that the druids weaved upon the winds. Yet, however calm and collected she may have appeared on the outside, on the inside Keiana was screaming incoherently – her heart pounding with nerves. There, not more than a few horse lengths away, was Ardruil Illuvien – the Elvenking himself. For as long as the Green Priest had been a friend of his daughter, her father had remained a distant, almost mythical, figure. He was the liege of all the Great Forest and had guided Nargathor throughout the age, to think that she had by the folly of the Gods been hurled into his midst was unthinkable!

She rode with each action carefully considered and thought out, acutely aware that any mistake or accident she made would be in full view some of the most esteemed nobility within all the realm – but at the same time Keiana couldn’t believe her fortunes. It was because of the luck of her positioning within the great procession, that she witnessed the pair of High Elves approach the pilgrims and all the events that followed. She knew that the words being exchanged were not meant for her ears, but she couldn’t stop herself. The Order valued knowledge and curiosity above all else; so when her ears heard of unspoken fears and chilling winds, her mind was unable to shut itself off. Keiana bit her lip silently, uncertain how to react to what she was hearing. Her first instinct was to delve into the Verdani as soon as she could, to share these whispers and perhaps see what her brethren would make of it. But perhaps that wouldn’t be polite? Keiana shifted on her mount, some of her unease showing through.

[New Armarzia]

Abandoned City
Northernmost Kalzmere Mountains
Northern Wastes

As the whispers began to be heard, the guards closest to the gate began to back away towards it, but with its design it was closed and the guards on the other side who did not know what was going on wouldn't open it without Drakysis's commands. Some of the guards within prepared their weapons expecting some evil manifestation to appear while a few of the less brave minotaurs lowered their weapons as they backed up against the wall. Drakysis merely stood still, mesmerized by the dancing shadows.

Drakysis seemed oblivious to the two armored beings, some of the undying followers from the Fallen Champion Zeal, disintegrated and were consumed by the stone. To Drakysis, nothing existed in the room save for the clear voice that spoke to him. The other minotaurs who did not hear the voice were horrified as they saw the two followers of the hydra turn to dust and vanish before their eyes. But the fear washed away from all of those who were in the room. All distractions faded away as their focus turned to that of the stone which now sat there peacefully, calling for them. Drakysis approached the stone, motioning for the others to stay back so only he would be able to take it.

Different from the rest, The Memories of the Fallen did not immediately turn to love the stone. The armor that helped shaped the shadow fell to the floor and all that was left was a violently changing mass of smoke. Screams of the little girl would have been heard if the minotaurs were not so entranced by the stone. The mind of fallen champion was the site of battle between two manipulating force as that which had controlled the mind for so long desperately attempted to keep its hold from this ancient darkness.

The Vault of Memories
Sigmund's Hold
Kalzmere Gap

Laying on a stone pedestal in complete dark was a sword and hilt lying motionless as it had been for just over a century. The Shadow of Elyrium or The Sword of Avalar as the jailers of the sword called it because of the scene they found around the sword when they first attempted to retrieve it. But that named enraged the sword, it refused to be associated with any of the Gods that would allow the history the sword suffered to pass. The hour was near for The Shadow of Elyrium who once brought fear to the hearts of these men to rise again. Not much time was left before the sword's plan would spring. And just on schedule a familiar presence appeared outside the room...

...Outside the room a knight of Saelerdon's Light walked down the halls of the cryptic prison. He was taking over the night watch as he always did in this dark vault of ancient evils that are best left forgotten. The day watch passed by him, giving the man a threatening look as he passed by, but after the day watch passed he seemed to not even be aware he passed the knight who was taken over the watch. The knight, Strauss, grumbled as he continued on, one day he would have to do something about that.

He continued on his path, which wasn't much as it was just a hall full of large doors he was not allowed to go in. He was the only one on watch and nothing ever happened, so as usual Strauss decided to sit down against the wall by a vault to some sword. Why The Enlightened One would caged up some sword was beyond Strauss. After a while, the usual visions began to happen. A ghost of his child sister who died so long ago ran down the halls, his parents began to speak with. Each time Strauss would have to close his eyes and focus which brought an agonizing headache. This watch was driving him made, perhaps he would have to do something about these grievances sooner rather then later...

[The Starlight]

503 AL
Twilight Fortress
Queen Irithren Terembor

Irithren and her company rode quickly but relatively softly out of Valtmeris, the hoofs of the well groomed horses only touching the ground lightly before rising again. The company took only short breaks, the elves all being accustomed to the cold and the growing altitude and the conditions that came with it. As they neared Mount Valaheim, upon which Twilight Fortress stood, a bastion of the elves and Vaemidia against any evil which would assail the elves of Menevrion, the company slowed, following their queen single file as the elves rode due to the narrowness and steepness of the path. But they had traveled it before, and so they avoided most of the difficulty that came with riding up Mount Valaheim, their elven bred horses jumping agilely from rock to rock when necessary.

After several hour, they soon reached the peak of Mount Valaheim, and beheld Twilight Fortress in all of its glory. Its radiant star as a steeple shined brightly, smoke rising from the fireplaces inside, which could be seen through the perfectly clear windows. A view of miles, nay, hundreds of miles could be seen from the peak of the 19,500 foot mountain. On the stone and base of the Fortress itself, elven runes from known and long-forgotten tongues were carved lightly, the result being a ethereal glow upon the stone. Riding up to the entrance, Inyel the Lady of War rode forward. Knocking lightly on the gate, she spoke, "Open the gate, trusted friends and allies! The Queen approaches!" There was silence. Riding back to her liege's side, the Company waited. Slowly, the magnificent gate groaned open, its wide and thick doors opening wide. Riding slowly in, Irithren hailed the guard with an arm, the knights of the fortress saluting back, their grand pennants and flags waving proudly. Dismounting, Irithren led Acran to the stables, and after caring for the white stallion, walked with Skyblade still in its sheath, Riverspear being stored in her custom quarters in the Fortress.

Walking across the glade, Irithren nodding to the Knights as they greeted her, Inyel following close behind. The rest of the Queen's Company had gone to their own quarters and were released from duty for the time, being allowed to use the time they had at their leisure. Entering the hall, Irithren knelt before the symbols of Vaemidia, offering a prayer for herself, Lord Azuryan and Menevrion. Rising, she inquired of Eonwaris and soon found him. Greeting him, Irithren explained her presence.
"We have heard from the elves of the Sun's Wood that a pilgrimage of the Wood elves have been spotted, traveling for Twilight Fortress. The Queen Mother of Nargathror usually attends and I believe that it is nigh time that we opened up relations with our brethren once again. Also, I have grave news." said Irithren.

Moving into a more private room, she continued, "I received this Faeran coin from a owl, though I know not who sent it. It is proof that some remnant of the Sorcalin Dynasty remains. As allies, friends and independent members of Menevrion, I wanted to alert you of this and ask for your advise. What say you, friend?" asked Irithren.

[Rudaslavia]

Northwestern Deszyan Plains

Rest was not an option. Othralas's pain was growing far too quickly. He was able to cast minor healing spells upon himself, but he required the Faeran enchantments at Vilvarion to fully restore his body to normalcy. His mask of human wrinkles and age was becoming irritated. He longed to remove it -- to reveal is handsome face tot the world once more. His flamboyant wig was scratching at his long Elven ears. By the gods above, this was a most painful disguise.

But it was effective. He embodied the true image of an old human nobleman, and he did not stop speaking with his fabricated accent. The Faeran and his newly acquired slaves encountered several travelers on the isolated roads. Othralas treated them kindly and with a distinct politeness so as not to be suspected of wrongdoing. His slaves remained utterly silent throughout each of the ordeals.

However, the male High Elf spoke up once the coach reached the northernmost borders of the Deszyan Plains. "Just who are you?" he asked rather boldly. Othralas did not reply. He only snapped the reins and growled like a beast. The slave spoke again. "Did you hear me, you human bastard?"

"I...heard you...quite clearly, my...handsome specimen." Othralas responded with a tone similar to that of a rattlesnake's vile hiss. It was difficult to resist torching the slave and leaving his burning body to rot in the mud. "I am...only a dying prince...with far too much gold to spare."

The conversation ended there, and the journey continued. Home was still so far...

[Imperialisium]

Twilight Fortress
503 AL

Eonwaris, wizened beyond measure, snatched the coin with some trace of grace reminiscent of youth. He took the coin, and brought it into candlelight. Examining the coin's luster, color, every crack and fissure in its surface. After a solid three minutes he frowned and turned back to the Queen slowly.

"Its authentic, I will tell you that, but I fear the coins authenticity proves a valid point. Some holdout of the Sorcalin could exist. Though, I have heard no news from the realms of Men or the Moon Elves that wander near the region. My best advice is to be wary. Be vigilant, I will pass on this to the Order's of Vaemidia and Avalar. They will keep watch and spread word to whomever of their member they can."

Abandoned City
Northern Kalzmere

The voice from the stone was like a hammer, yet, strangely soothing. Its voice was supple, and almost godly in grasp. It partook in creating thoughts for wholeness, love, pleasure, glory, conquests, and power beyond measure any mortal could attain. It was like a vice slowly closing its grip, playing on the mixing emotions, thoughts, and twisting the logic in the minds of those in the room.

Sun's Wood
Midsummer's Pilgrimage

Taluria nodded to the Elvenking, "Then let us be on our way. The Fortress should be within view, or at least a portion of it able to be seen from this side of the mountain. It is a wonder, truly, My Lord. It is partially built into the mountain, and about it. Said to be the place when the Valatar showed themselves to the Elves some three thousand years prior. A sign that the Ones still watch over us, and protect us from evils beyond imagining. The guards will let us in without pause, they know of the heraldry of many nations about the known world."

[Rudaslavia]

Kalzmere Mountains

The pain was too great. Othralas had reached his limit. He could no longer stand it -- resting upon shattered bones and internal wounds. The Faeran bled within, and he could feel his life force draining. If he were to delay any longer, it would be his permanent downfall...and he was not yet ready for his own downfall.

And so he would sacrifice one of his greatest treasures: the Faero Magnam. It was a powerful artifact crafted by the founders of the Sorcalin House. The amulet contained overwhelming amounts of magical energy. Even Othralas could not comprehend how the device was forged. He had never planned on utilizing its power. It was a symbol of his ancient family, and he could hardly bear parting with it; for using the Magnam for the purpose he required would wipe the piece of jewelry from existence.

But Othralas had to use it. He couldn't handle the pain.

So the wounded Faeran, still under the guise of an old human noble, drew a circle of enchanted salt around himself and his High Elven slaves. With a prayer to the gods of Faera, he held the amulet high and shattered it upon the earth. The magical energy combusted. A blue-and-gold mushroom cloud erupted from the Kalzmere Mountains. The earth shook violently, swallowing Othralas's horse and carriage whole. The catastrophe could be seen and felt even from the edges of the continent.

Hours later, when the arcane smoke had finally cleared, Othralas and his slaves were gone. He had transported himself back to the Sari...but at the price of one of the most valuable Faeran artifacts on the planet.

Vilvarion Castle
Sari Mountains

A small portal tore through the blizzards of the Saris. From this portal, Othralas and his slave were hurled into the snow. The magical gateway immediately closed behind them. The Fire Elf groaned in excruciating pain.

The two slaves, still bound by chains, rolled through the snow in confusion. "What..." grunted the male High Elf. "You are...no common mortal man!"

Othralas hobbled to his feet with tears of physical pain and emotional regret flowing over his mask. "No," he responded, this time speaking wit his natural Faeran accent. "I am not!" He took hold of the High Elven slaves by their shackled collars and dragged them over the steps leading to Vilvarion's gates. He was finally home.

[Elerian]

Lord-Commandant Theomar Uldryden
Lord Commander's Apartments, The Great Desert
503 Al

Theomar eyed Suleyk warily, looking for any hint of betrayal. No sweaty palms, no avoidance of eye contact, For all Theo knew Suleyk was acting normally. The Commander sat up in his bed and listened to the man as he spoke. Theo cleared his throat and looked the man up and down one last time, this time to size him up.

"The dragon, where is it? Did it hatch? Is it healthy?" Theo blurted faster than he intended. Taking a moment to gather himself he asked one last thing; "were my efforts for naught?" Theo glanced at his burned arms as he asked.